Roswell Fanatics

Roswelllostcaus - Thank you!
L-J-L 76 - All of your questions will be answered. In time. Btw, I couldn't help but notice that you gave fb on ch 1+2. Just wanted to make sure that you hadn't missed the update of ch 3 last week Thank you for your feedback
Eve - Hun, that's no problem. I know what it means to have your real life interfere with your hobbies… It's what kept me away from this place for a very long time. I hope you're enjoying your new work and I'll enjoy your feedback when you find the time to read Thank you!
Evans3 - Thank you!
Sarah (HypnotiqBlueEyes) - Thank you and welcome

Okay, you guys. I'll post two chapters this week as well, since I realized that chapter 5 was very short. We're still kinda building up the background and the characters; the interesting meetings between our favorite characters will come later

Thank you all so much for the feedback. It sends warmth through my heart and down into my toes. <3


CHAPTER 4
Alex

It had started out with a fascination. Like a good mystery book. Because to Alex Whitman, Elizabeth Parker had been a mystery. And the more he learned about her, the more the plot had thickened.

Alex had first met Liz when she had transferred to his school. The ‘Nerd School’ as it was referred to by kids going to the public school. When he complained about being different, his parents would tell him that he was special and that was the reason why he went to a special school. But no one wanted to be special at the age of sixteen. However, when Elizabeth Parker had joined his class, being special had jumped up the scale. Ms. Parker had suddenly made Alex’s existence so much brighter.

Alex Whitman was something of a mathematical prodigy and his parents had decided to move him to Simon’s Rock, a liberal arts college located in Great Barrington, for the eleventh year of his education. Whereas he had been considered a genius (although somewhat geeky) at his previous school, at Simon’s Rock he was in the company of the elite of brainy kids. He had fit in quite well, acquiring more equal-minded friends than the total number of friends across his years of living up until that point.

But no smart kid’s résumé compared to Ms. Parker.

The rumors followed her like a trail of crumbs from the second she set her foot in the academy. How she had presumably survived a horrific car crash that had killed her mother but had given her super powers. Well, super intellectual powers. Apparently, there had been small marks, the size of fingerprints, covering a vast majority of her skin several days after the accident. Her body had otherwise been unscathed. Even though they had lingually gifted kids at the school, no one came close to how quickly Liz picked up a language. There were even talks of how she could read minds. That one, obviously, was not true.

At first, she had been a specimen to observe from afar. To the girls, she was obnoxiously beautiful, but at a school where intelligence was prioritized, jealousy of one’s exterior held no true value so the girls had accepted her. To the boys, she was gorgeous and compelling. Somehow, she remained untouched. Many tried their luck, asking her out on dates, trying to steal a kiss and maybe more. Some succeeded, but none lasted.

In Alex’s eyes she remained untouched and out of reach. Like a butterfly that would lose its ability to fly if you were too rough in handling it, brushing off the powdery scales of its wings disabling its flight. So Alex held her very gently, treasuring the friendship that had started to bloom between them. To Alex, there had been non-platonic feelings blossoming as well, but Alex had never acted on it. Instead he had watched the trail of men move through Liz’s life, being tarnished in various degrees by Elizabeth’s indifference and aloofness.

Ms. Parker seemed unable to connect. Unable to trust.

Alex would rather not experience that first-hand, hence he had remained the friendly bystander to her romances. But his feelings had lingered, never really evaporating.

“Ms. Parker,” Alex announced with a smile as Liz walked towards him with assertive steps. The black skirt was billowing around her knees, the bright green and white dotted blouse flattering while effectively covering her upper body as if designed specifically for Liz’s alluring mysterious nature.

She responded to his welcome with a warm smile of her own. “Mr. Whitman. How do you do?”

He focused briefly on the warm pink gloss on her lips, feeling a familiar longing tighten in the center of his body, before he moved to her warm mahogany eyes. After almost six years of friendship, those eyes were as familiar to him as the ones looking back at him every morning in the mirror.

“Why, Ms. Parker. Looking ravishing today.”

Liz fluttered her eyelashes in line with their traditional exchange, playing her part to the tee. “Thank you most kindly, Mr. Whitman.” She scooted around his shopping cart and touched those admired pink lips loosely to his cheek. “Hello, my friend.”

His somewhat thin lips briefly touched her cheek. “Hi, Liz. How was first day at work?”

She pulled back and her face shone brightly. “Absolutely amazing.”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “That good, huh? So you picked the right firm, I presume?”

A faint shadow played across her face, unnoticeable to most, but Alex documented it and shelved it in his memory bank to ask about later. “I have a really good feeling about this one…”

The way she let her statement linger told Alex that the time to ask her about that fleeting moment of darkness across her face was now. “But..?”

She shrugged and quickly jumped subjects. “Let’s talk about it later. What are you getting?”

Alex watched her out of the corner of his eyes as she helped him search out his groceries, wondering what was off about her new job. Liz might just be the most intuitive person he knew and he was afraid that she might have stumbled onto something that might jeopardize her future at the architectural firm of her choice. But apparently, that discussion was not going to happen now.

As they continued their walk through the grocery store, things ‘not on the list’ were added to the cart, the cashier added up the total and they left the store to spend the night in front of Alex’s humble TV in his modern apartment.
They had been discussing everything except what was actually bothering Liz. Alex could tell by the fact that Liz never allowed herself to truly relax that night. She usually laid down on the sofa, resting her legs on Alex’s lap (something that was both delightful and tormenting for Alex), while popcorn and chips would end up on his floor and between the cushions of his sofa because she would continuously drop snacks on the trip from the bowl to her mouth. Today, her back was as straight as if it had been nailed to a wooden board, as she supplied Alex with bits of information about her first day at work while apparently watching the movie.

Alex had not been fooled. A quarter past ten he wouldn’t allow her to beat around the bush anymore. “Come on, Liz. What happened?”

She turned large eyes to him, going for the theatrical surprised look. “What do you mean?” She really wasn’t a very convincing liar.

“Something happened at work, didn’t it?”

She shrugged. “Nah. Just nerves, it being my first job and all.”

“You might be able to convince your father about that, him believing every word you say, but not me.”

Liz paused and unconsciously worried her bottom lip. “There’s this man at work.”

Alex felt a chill rush through him. He didn’t like her grave tone. It was a foreboding of bad news. Leaving only silence as a reply, Alex waited for Liz to continue. “Unfortunately he’s my boss’ right hand and he’s the person in charge on my first project.”

She was pushing back the cuticles on her left thumb with her the nail of her right thumb, her voice taking on a soft hesitant tone. “He… he scared me, Alex.”

There was a sheen of moisture in her eyes as she looked up at him, which awoke a fierce protective streak in Alex. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” she swallowed and shook her head. “Nothing.”

Alex frowned. “Then how-“

“It was just a feeling,” Liz interrupted. “The way he was looking at me… I don’t know. Like he had plans for me.”

Alex guffawed, despite himself. “Plans? What kind of plans?”

She shook her head again, “It’s ridiculous.”

“Tell me,” Alex encouraged.

Liz paused, now working over the cuticle of her left index finger. “Like he wanted to eat me.”

At a loss of an appropriate reply, Alex gave a short laugh, “‘Eat you’?”

“Devour me,” Liz clarified, deadly serious.

Alex felt the chill run down his back, spreading goose bumps in its wake. “You’re serious?”

Liz nodded. “I can’t explain it better than that. His eyes…” She turned introspective, thinking of David Perkins’ black eyes and how they had burrowed into her soul, seemingly draining her of warmth. She shivered in the warmth of Alex’s apartment.

“Did he make any advances?” Alex asked, his tone authoritative. He might have to have a little chat with that man…

Liz answered in negative, “No.” She retrieved the blanket from the back of the sofa and started to spread it across her suddenly cold legs. “Not yet.”

“But you think he will?”

“Either that or kill me?”

Alex laughed again, a humorless and disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding.”

Liz closed her eyes and leaned back against the back of the couch, no trace of humor in her countenance. “It’s probably nothing.”

Alex watched her contemplatively. “How long is this project for?”

Liz opened her eyes and met his worried ones. “Approximately eight months, give or take.”

“Great,” Alex murmured.

Liz held his eyes for a couple of seconds before mentally shrugging herself out of the depressive state of her thoughts. “It’s probably nothing. Of course it’s nothing. I’ve only just met this guy; I don’t know anything about him. Maybe we just don’t click. I mean, bad guys only exists in the movies, right?”

Alex smiled faintly, Liz’s darkness now having infected his thoughts. “Possibly.”

“Just forget I said anything,” Liz added and took a deep breath. “Let’s just watch the movie, okay? Could you rewind? I have no idea what this movie is about.”

Alex considered Liz’s words for another second or two before picking up the remote control. “We might as well start from the beginning.”

TBC… (in the next post)

CHAPTER 5
Michael

“What happened?”

Max looked over at his friend, closer to him than a brother, and was slightly surprised at his concern. It would be raining pigs before Michael Guerin would admit to being the worrying kind.

Max lifted the bun on his hamburger and dashed a generous amount of Tabasco sauce on top. “Apparently, I had a seizure.”

“You’ve never had a seizure before,” Maria voiced, sitting down next to Michael. Her concern, on the other hand, was more familiar to Max than Michael’s.

Max shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

Michael frowned, picked a soggy french fry off Max’s plate, and stuffed it in his mouth. He had known Max for about six years. He was one of the few people on this planet Earth that was privy to Max’s abilities. Michael had on more than one occasion been jealous of Max’s ability to manipulate matter, bend molecules according to his will, project protective force fields out of his hand (they were even a pretty nifty green color) and heal.

The biggest twist was Max having saved Michael’s girlfriend from dying some fourteen years ago, an act that Michael could never out rival (Michael could never quite accept that Max had done something for his girlfriend that he never would be able to) even though he was eternally grateful that Max had made it possible for Maria to live into adulthood. If she hadn’t, Michael’s life would have played out very differently.

But if convulsions were a new ability of Max’s, it was not going to make it onto Michael’s ‘Powers Michael wished he had instead of Max’. Just didn’t sound like that much fun.

Michael watched Maria reach out and take a hold of Max’s hand and a mild darkness zinged his heart. Maybe it was not so much the fact that Max had been able to save Maria from a malignant cancer that bothered Michael, but more the fact that his best friend seemed to have a special connection with his girlfriend. That was not something you wanted your girlfriend to share with another guy.

“Melissa said it was bad,” Maria said, her eyes flickering to Michael for support.

Michael pretended he had not noticed her silent request for support and reached for another potato stripe deep-fried in trans fat.

“The weird thing was; I wasn’t experiencing the seizure,” Max said.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, shoveling three French fries into his mouth.

Maria shot him a disapproving look and he glanced at her before expelling a defensive, “What, woman?”

She sighed, seemingly deeming him as a lost cause, and refocused on Max. “Melissa said it was a full blown convulsion. That you lost consciousness.”

That you peed your pants. Michael couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Oh Holy Thou Max Evans peed his pants. Yes, Michael had a bone to pick with Max; Max’s close sharing of information with Maria over these last couple of months having worked a deep itch into Michael’s relationship with Max. An itch that needed some serious scratching.

“I saw this girl.”

Michael straightened in his seat, quickly surveyed their surroundings (an old man two booths down, a noisy family of four at the opposite side of the diner), and lowered his voice. “You had a vision?”

Max roughened his hands down his face, a well-known sign to Michael. Max was troubled.

“I was in a city, at night-“

“An city on Earth?” Michael asked fervently.

Max looked at him impatiently. Michael instantly resented him for that look. “Yes. Of course it was a city on Earth.”

To his right, Michael saw Maria roll her eyes and felt that familiar twinge in his heart again. Trying to hide his hurt, Michael’s tone was cold as he asked, “So, what then?”

“She was running down the street, being hunted by a man. At least I think it was a man. I couldn’t see his face.”

Maria gripped Michael’s hand with her free hand and Michael felt a flutter of lightness ease up on the hot feeling in his chest. “Then what happened?”

“The girl ran into an alley, screaming for help, but no one came for her.”

“And you were there? With the girl?” Michael asked.

“Merely as a spectator,” Max replied, his voice pained. “I couldn’t affect anything. Couldn’t touch her, couldn’t push the man off her.”

Maria gasped at the picture Max was painting. “He hurt her?” Her grip on Michael’s hand tightened and he eased his hand out of her grip, earning him a hurt look from her direction, before he used his now freed arm to circle around Maria’s waist and pull her to his side. She relaxed into his side, grateful that he had understood her.

“Yes,” Max croaked. Apparently not wanting to go into details, Max added, “He hurt her and I could only watch.”

“What does it mean?” Maria whispered.

Max rubbed his right eyebrow. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”

“Have you talked to Isabel about this?” Michael asked. Isabel had experienced visions for about five months when she was twelve years old. The visions had been of a green sky, a large building with the appearance of a castle and large ballrooms. Isabel had never figured out what they meant and one day they had stopped.

Max shook his head. “I’m afraid it will work her up.” Remind her of the visions. The sentence hung between the men, unvoiced.

“She has to know,” Maria protested. “This might have something to do with…” she lowered her voice “…your past.”

A look transpired between Max and Michael. Michael knew what Max was telling him; protect Isabel at all costs. What could possibly hurt their sister was to remain unsaid. They needed to find out more first. Maria noticed the look and having been a part of the foursome of friends for a large part of her life, she had a good idea what it meant. She decided to partly redirect the conversation.

“And while you were having these…visions,” Maria murmured. “You were seemingly having a seizure? Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks. I mean, a lot of weird things happen to your body when you’re having a seizure.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed. “I’ve considered that. I’ve even considered my mind using images from my memory that I recognize, tricking me into believing this is a novel experience.”

Michael had decided to take a handful of Max’s French fries and dose them in a great deal of Tabasco sauce. Max wasn’t eating much anyway. “What do you mean?”

Max looked at him straight on and said evenly, “I recognized the girl.”

“We know her?” Maria breathed.

Michael remained quiet, watching the emotions play out in Max’s eyes. Max had never excelled in hiding his feelings.

“I know her.”

“What does-“

Michael interrupted Maria’s stricken questioning, “It’s from your dreams. It’s one of the girls from your dreams.” Not a question. A statement.

Max nodded.

“Hmm…” Michael breathed contemplatively, unconsciously tightening his arm around Maria. He was suddenly the one in need of comfort.

Maria, catching on, let go of Max’s hand to run the hand through her blonde large curls in a nervous gesture. “I thought they stopped. Your dreams.”

“They did,” Max replied and leaned back in his seat. “Look. Like I said, I’m not sure if my mind is playing tricks on me-“

“Considering our background, the rational explanation is not the simplest - or the truest,” Michael voiced. “We can’t rule anything out. We just have to wait and see if it happens again.”

Maria looked at him incredulously. “Wait? Until he has another seizure?”

“Maybe it’s not seizures,” Max answered, saving Michael from a scolding. “Maybe it is some kind of vision and the seizures is the outside camouflage of what’s going on. So that no one will question it.”

“Well,” Maria said. “In that case, I find that camouflage lousy.” She folded her arms across her chest. “For the record, I’m firmly against waiting this out and awaiting possible damage to Max’s mind and body.”

Michael shrugged, seemingly undisturbed by the premise of the experiment. “I say, let’s see what happens next. Maybe it’ll give us some information. It’s been awhile since we found out something new after all.”

But on the inside, Michael was worried. What if it really was seizure activity? What if it was an early sign of how years of using otherworldly abilities possibly had degraded a human body? What if it was a sign of something greater? Something dangerous?
He might not be a fan of Max Evans, most of the time, but Max was the closest thing he had to a brother and he would fight to keep it that way.

TBC… (in a week)

Liz listen to that feeling you got about David! Trust it! There is something off about him! Max, you got to find Liz! She is in danger!

I only found this story, and wow! Waiting for more.

Two really fantastics parts!

And there aren't seizures, I think but more visions he has because of their connection; him and Liz... as he saved her as baby!
Maybe thinking about the street, he will be able to help her! Thanks waiting for more

EVE

oh my

Glad you came back to this. I'm so excited. Wow so maybe Max is dreaming of Liz eh. I'm surprised about Marias feelings for max over Alex's for Liz. Obviously Alex and Liz share a intelligence connection. Max and Maria is just kind of eh. He saved her life and she's infatuated with him. Looking forward to this one. Can't wit for max and Liz to meet.

So glad you came back to finish this story........wish some of the others would have been so considerate.
The first meeting Max and Elizabeth had.........that was very touching.
Now we have fast forwarded.......I envy Liz with her knowledge of so many languages. Smart girl.

You have my attention...........Isabel has already discovered Liz......and what's with the seizures for Max?
Can't wait for move,
Carolyn

Hello everyone! Hope you're all enjoying your weekend

Roswelllostcause - You are very correct. Thank you for your feedback!
saori_1902 - Thank you, and welcome to this story
Eve - You're a very wise woman Thank you for the feedback!
Natalie - Thank you
AlysLuv - Welcome And very interesting reflections. Yes, Maria had more of a typical childlike crush on Max when she was little, while Alex has something deeper for Liz - considering that they were older when they met. Thank you for the feedback!
Carolyn - Great to see you here I completely agree with you that it would've been nice if some more authors were to finish their stories. I have a couple of favorite stories myself that I would really love for people to finish. Maybe that's why I can't leave you hanging… Thank you for the feedback!


Okay, so this next chapter is from Tess' perspective. Which in my world, is never a pretty perspective. So, you might not want to be eating while you read this chapter.

Introducing Tess Harding…


CHAPTER 6
Tess

His hands closed around her neck as he thrust into her. The innate need for air made her heart flutter in anxiety, but it was riddled with the taste of excitement. At first, his dominance during sex had frightened her. But the knowledge that she had the ultimate control (after all, he didn’t know that she exhibited extraordinary abilities that could kill him if he decided to take this thing too far), always calmed her and made it possible for her to surrender her control to him. At least momentarily.

“You like that, huh?” he breathed, biting into her earlobe hard enough to draw blood.

“Yes,” she moaned, gripping the edge of the small utility sink with her fingers to prevent herself from falling off. “Oh yes.”

His hands tightened around her neck and she suspected that his control was going to leave a mark this time. She looked up into his dark eyes (he was so turned on) and shivered with the danger she saw in them. Even though his grip was slowly cutting off her air supply, she was not afraid. She knew he would stop; he always had. He liked it rough, he liked to be the man in charge and have his woman subordinate to his demands. And if he didn’t stop, she would make him. As simple as that.

She had always been drawn to dark and mysterious men. She had not necessarily been drawn to dangerous men; but the mysterious had always seemed to go hand in hand with dangerous. David Perkins was the latest of her conquests. They had been bumping uglies for about a month now and the sex was still exciting and great. She didn’t see the relationship going further than that; David was not the best conversationalist and they didn’t have very much in common outside of the bedroom (or the utility closet at his work).

But it was fun and Tess loved to have fun.

The task of balancing her naked bottom on the sink grew increasingly difficult as David increased his speed, getting closer to culmination. As the muscles in his abdomen tightened in anticipation of the release, his fingers tightened around her neck and she instinctively angled her neck backwards, stretching it out in the search of air.

“Please, I can’t breathe, please,” she croaked, knowing that her helplessness would push him over.

“Yes, bitch. You’re loving this, you whore.”

Well, she could do without the name calling, but it was all part of the act. And David Perkins sure liked to play.

“Punish me,” she whispered. If he didn’t come soon, she’d have to bend his mind slightly, which would put a serious dent into the pleasure that was building inside of her now.

A final three hard thrusts and he came with an ugly groan. His body relaxed against hers and his fingers lost their strength around her neck. She took in great gulps of air, like a goldfish on land, and dropped her forehead against his shoulder. Her legs lost their grip around the back of his thighs (he was still wearing his dark grey slacks) and she felt him grow soft inside of her.

There was no cuddling, no pecks of affection or gentle touches, as he backed away from her, rearranged his boxes and zipped up his pants. She slid off the sink that he had pushed her up on just a few minutes earlier, becoming aware of the indention in the soft skin of her ass from the edge of the aluminum sink. She retrieved her torn panties from the floor and sighed mentally. A lot of money went into replacing panties nowadays and she rearranged her skirt around her exposed femininity.

“I guess I’m going commando again,” Tess said with a sultry smile.

She watched his eyes darken again as he momentarily looked up from straightening his shirt to let his eyes flicker to her skirt. Tess enjoyed that look more than she should. He could try and dominate her however much he liked, but there was no question who had the power in the end.

“Just don’t let anyone see that,” he warned with dark jealousy.

“It’s not easy to prevent,” Tess mused, noticing how the playfulness began to seep out of the room, drowning in the man’s possession of her body. “It’s quite windy outside. Mishaps are bound to happen.”

“If it does, I will punish you like the slut you are,” David murmured, walking up to her and surprising her by roughly shoving her up against the wall. The exhilaration was tightly married with the fear. He took a firm grip around her breast through her linen top and twisted her nipple. Not too gently.

Ouch. Just as quickly, Tess lost the interest in playing with the man. That fucking hurt.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to come over to my place tonight and punish me.” By tonight, she would be desiring his games again, she was sure of it.

He took a firm grip on her chin and angled her mouth to his, pressing down and kissing her possessively and abrasively. Stating his claim. “Count on it.”

He stepped back from her abruptly and tore the door open next to her. Without any words of goodbye, he was gone. Tess relaxed against the wall. He sure was a dynamic man.
Theresa Harding didn’t particularly approve of the private investigator she had hired. As he slumped down in the chair opposite her at the café, pressing his muddy-colored oily comb-over down in place with his sausage-shaped fingers (Tess shivered) and breathing hard as if he had just run a marathon, Tess was hit with the familiar feeling of disgust. But despite his similarity to an obese mole, with small squinting eyes behind round glasses that made his eyes the size of dinner plates, he was the best in his field. And Tess wanted the best.

With her perfect blonde curls lightly bouncing around her heart-shaped face which was painted to perfection with expensive make-up, Theresa Harding seemingly existed in another universe from the man sitting opposite her. She was a woman with high standards and she had no problem about being openly condescending to what she categorized as lower forms of human beings.

“Long walk?” she asked unkindly, lifting the wine glass to her full red lips.

She ignored the look of disdain that passed over the face of the overweight PI, knowing that his thoughts of her were probably equally low. But he had quickly learned that she wasn’t just a beautiful airhead, he couldn’t treat her like the perfect Barbie he had been tempted to when they had first met.

He didn’t grant her with a reply, instead cutting to the chase. “Let’s get down to business, Ms. Harding.”

She put the wine glass back on the table, nodding. “Sure. Do you want me to order something for you?” Even though she could be obnoxious, Tess Harding wasn’t raised in a barn. She still had manners. Some at least.You hardly need any food.

As if hearing her silent thought, private investigator Louis Mitchell shook his head. “No, thank you.”

He pulled his briefcase onto his lap, wiping a tendril of sweat off his forehead with his free hand. Tess grimaced and had too look away. Her attention was drawn back to the man as he placed a document holder onto the round table. It hardly made a noise when placed, being too thin to contain anything relevant.

Tess felt her disappointment grow tight in her gut. “That’s it?” Her tone was bitter and acidic.

The man leaned back in the chair, his breathing still slightly labored. Pressing the briefcase to his chest, he pointed at the documents. “Take a look.”

Having zero expectations, Tess snagged up the folder and opened it. On the front page a photo of a young man was staring back at her. Her heart jumped a beat. Forgetting her surroundings and the watchful eyes of the PI, she traced her perfectly manicured finger across the top of the glossy photo surface. The man looked familiar. Why did he look familiar?

Lifting at the edge of the photo, she looked at the document attached to the photo with a paperclip and read out his name.

Maxwell Theodore Evans.

The advanced class of Twenty Questions started to unfold in her mind as she skimmed the information.
…found on a desert road outside of Roswell, New Mexico…
…adopted by Philip and Diane Evans and moved to Boston…
…a girl of approximately the same age, presumed to be the boy’s sister, was found in the same state on the side of the road…
…no parents have been found or have stepped forward to claim the children…
…strange phenomenon…
…described as a prodigy…
…current occupation: EMT at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston

Finding herself speechless, Tess turned page after page. The life story of a Maxwell Evans ended and instead she found the photo of an Isabel Sophia Evans, the assumed sister of Maxwell. The account of her life was very similar to that of her brother.

Tess was about to turn the page to the next person of interest when a sentence at the end of Isabel’s biography caught her attention.

Current occupation: Administrative assistant at Elkus Manfredi Architects, Boston

Her current relationship with the not-really-sure-what-to-classify-him-as man David Perkins, had given her entrance to that same firm several times over the last few weeks. In fact, she’d been doing the nasty in the maintenance office of that exact firm not two hours earlier.

She looked up at the forty something man that was trying to be cool about the vivid emotions displayed across the young lady’s face. He fought not to let his elation at shocking her with his investigative capabilities show on his face.

“Where did you find this?”

He shrugged, shrouding himself in a mist of mystery. “I have my ways.”

Tess really wasn’t up for his evasive tactics. She leaned across the table and sneered, “Where did you find this?”

The man hesitated, taken back by the sudden animosity on the woman’s face. How a woman could turn ugly so quickly… “I have contacts…” he let the sentence hang, unwilling to reveal his sources. Particularly this source. What he didn’t know was that Theresa Harding had ways of persuasion that was unknown to the human race and he was about to experience it first hand.

Tess closed the document folder and smiled softly. A mean, frightening smile which had Mr. Mitchell squeeze the briefcase tighter against his chest. He had the errant thought of needing to find an immediate excuse to get away as his thought was interrupted. Actually, all of his thoughts were interrupted. Something was cutting into his brain like a butter knife slicing through butter. But the process was precise and less messy. This was not Theresa Harding’s first time. She would make sure that the man remembered nothing of the incident. After all, she didn’t want to end up in one of those document folders, her whole life on display.

She sifted through his thoughts, jumping from one irrelevant thought to the other like someone would surf the channels of their cable TV. She was disgusted by the more private thoughts of this man who was the last man she wanted to experience TMI with, but it didn’t take her long to locate the information she was after. Mr. Private Investigator had after all been thinking about what she wanted to know the exact moment she forced her way into his mind, sending out a beacon for Tess to follow.

She couldn’t help but be a tad impressed at what she found. Mr. Louis Fucking Mitchell had connections high up in the food chain. The source he had been unwilling to name was a man called Joel Martin, an FBI agent. Not one of the big shots though; young Joel Martin was the equivalent of an office’s coffee boy, but he had the opportunity to acquire information and was because of that slowly climbing the career ladder. Joel Martin’s gambling addiction, however, required a constant influx of money, which nosy private detectives could assist him with.

Tess easily abandoned Mr. Mitchell’s mind and watched him relax in his chair as she brought the wine glass to her lips. Only seventeen seconds had passed. To the outside observer, it had appeared as if the young pretty lady and the somewhat overweight gentleman merely had engaged in a prolonged staring contest.

To Mr. Mitchell, those seventeen seconds were lost forever. He would never know that the twenty something woman who was once again innocently sipping on her white wine had seen some of the most intimate moments between him and his wife. To Mr. Mitchell, his business responsibilities to this seemingly unpleasant woman had reached the finish line.

“Is it to your satisfaction?” he asked politely.

Tess lightly drummed her fingers against the cover of the manila folder. “You’ve done well. But I’m still intrigued by how you got a hold of this information.”

Her tone was softer than the last time she’d asked and Mr. Mitchell responded accordingly. By relaxing even further. “My lips are sealed, Ms. Harding.”

“I understand,” Tess smiled. “Protecting your source and all of that.”

Mr. Mitchell nodded, relieved. “Exactly.”

Tess finished her glass of wine and took the document folder off the table, fitting it snuggly into her Chanel bag. “Well,” she rose from the table with her hand stretched out and Mr. Mitchell followed suit. “It was a pleasure doing business with you. The money should be in your account by five o’clock.”

Mr. Mitchell gave the woman a tight smile as he shook her hand. He had a great deal of mistrust for the woman and was unsure if he would indeed find a payment of his services. “The pleasure was all mine.”

Tess refrained from rolling her eyes. I’m sure it was.
There was a knock at her door. Tess smiled to herself and put the wine glass down on the kitchen counter. She walked towards the front door, pausing momentarily in front of the full figure mirror in the hallway to admire her work. She pulled at the left black stocking and dragged her finger along the bottom line of her lip to smoothen the painted lip line. With a final bounce to the bottom of her curls, she stepped up to the door and peeked through the peephole. After all, she didn’t want to accidentally open the door to her 73-year-old neighbor while dressed in crotchless panties and a lacy black corset with advanced push-up function. That would surely stop the ticker in the old man’s chest in spite of the assistance from a peacemaker.

Mr. Perkins, dressed all in black, was standing outside. She felt heat tighten her core.

She opened the door as far as the security chain would allow and put on a surprised stupid expression. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not alone.”

David was not amused. His eyes caught sight of her unclad state (she wasn’t really doing a good job at hiding it) and his mouth set into a grim line. “Open the door, Theresa.”

It was a command and she shivered with pleasure at his authority. This was a real man.

“Fine,” she mumbled, pretending to be annoyed. She closed the door, took a deep breath, unchained the security chain and opened the door fully.

He stepped inside, seemingly taking command of the room. He always did that, Tess observed. He truly did own his space. He had a black duffel bag with him, which he slowly set down on the floor, his eyes never leaving her body. His gaze was really turning her on, just from how his heated gaze kept lingering up and down her body.

He closed the door behind him and pointed to the bag. “Open it.”

Tess made a show out of slowly bending down, angling her bare ass towards him as she did, and smiling satisfactorily as he softly groaned.

She was in control.

She slowly unzipped the bag and was slightly impressed that he had, so far, managed to keep his hands off her. Inside the bag she found a brown wig, ropes and a scarf.

“Put the wig on,” David ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

She frowned. He wanted her to be a brunette? Slightly disappointed (she was very proud to be a blonde), she pulled the wig over her head, pushing her blonde hair inside the cap, almost shamefully hiding it.

“And put some more clothes on,” David added, which caused Tess’ mood to dip further. Now he wasn’t only changing her hair color but didn’t approve of her body.

Straightening up, proudly straightening her back, she met his eyes without faltering. “Why?” Her tone was sharp, demanding.

He narrowed his eyes, not used to her talking back to him. “Because you’re not going to make it easy for me to fuck you tonight. This,” he gestured down her barely clothed body, “doesn’t put up much of a resistance, does it?”

Tess considered this and mentally took a step back from her self-respect. This was another game. A more elaborate one than usual with all this prop, but still make-believe.

“Fine,” she said sourly. “I’m game.”

He dragged a lazy finger down the line of her jawbone and gave her a cool smile. “Good girl.”

“I guess I’ll go and change then,” Tess sighed.

“Leave the ropes,” David instructed, nodding at the ropes and the scarf that were still in her hands.

“Whatever,” Tess replied, dropping the dominating gears on the floor.

As she headed into her bedroom, he called after her, “And your name is Elizabeth. And you are to resist me.”

Elizabeth? Tess snorted. He really had thought this through, creating a whole backstory and all. Ah well, as long as it resulted in great sex.

It never crossed her mind that the ‘story’ David Perkins was making her play out was based on true details.


TBC (in a week…)