A thud echoed across the room, causing heads to raise from their respective
studies and fire a volley of disapproving glares at the source of the noise.  
One pair of eyes rose a moment later, the smile creasing the features of his
face, a sharp contrast to the sea of unwavering frowns and sneers. Like the
others however, the eyes rested on the same person, following the lines of her
form straight down to the floor before rising again and anchoring on her face. A
soft sigh escaped his lips, lost amidst the soft rustle of pages turning and the
constant tattoo of pen to paper.

Another flurry of noise followed shortly after the first as she yanked a chair
free from the table, its legs screeching in protest and rewarding her with a
chorus of Shhhhhs and finger pointing.  She offered an apologetic smile, turning
her back on every one else and retreating into her mountain of dog-eared books
and frayed notepads.  The ritual continued as always, a few minutes of rummaging
through her backpack producing a gnawed pencil, two colored highlighter pens and
a chunk of eraser.

Her hands fell to her side, smoothing the black skirt that spilled along her
legs, nipping at her ankles.  Her lips parted in a yawn, fingers wiggling and
arms pointed toward a bank of buzzing florescent lights. The oval lenses hugging
the bridge of her nose caught light as her neck turned, stretching in
anticipation of what looked like a long study session.  From beneath those same
lenses blue eyes peered upward, head falling reluctantly forward and focusing on
the first book waiting on the que.

Others in the room quickly lost interest, turning back to their own studies as
soon as she had settled into her seat. One pair of eyes remained, a smile still
resting a few inches below them.  They drank in her every movement, every rise
and fall of her chest, every sniffle and sigh.  The paperback book that
half-veiled his expression drooped closer and closer to the table's surface,
touching down as he reached up to brush a few errant strands of hair from his
eyes.  The ritual continued to unfold, his fingers knitting together on the table
before him as she moved on to the next book.  The room around him seemed to blur
and fade away, the lines of her body drawing his gaze repeatedly to the soft
swell of her breasts.  The watcher began to study her openly, confident that she
would only offer an awkward smile in response to his stare, if she noticed at
all.

She began to shift in her seat, stretching as she glanced down at her left wrist,
a frown creasing her features.  Her admirer dipped a hand into the pocket of his
overcoat, tugging out a small charm bracelet and dangling it before him.  His
gaze grew lazy as light danced between each charm, bringing them to his lips and
pressing a soft kiss to each in turn.  He dropped the chain to the table, sliding
his palm over the metal links to keep them out of sight.  The press of something
that had been so close to her coaxed his eyes completely shut, a soft sight
escaping his lips and creating a soft rustle among the slips of paper covering
his desk.

Involuntarily he pressed down harder on the bracelet, the weak metal giving in
until it was pressed almost flattened, jagged bits of once finely crafted
keepsakes drawing blood.  His lip twitched violently as a flicker-flash of images
paraded across his mind's eye, drawing several more deep breaths before his eyes
inched open once again. They narrowed immediately at the sight of the woman
across the room, crimson tendrils snaking from his fingertips as he drew his hand
away from the bracelet.

He turned his hand over, watching the liquid collecting in the creases of his
flesh, flowing over old scars and along his pinky until pooling at the tip. 
Reaching into his pocket with the other hand he withdrew a handkerchief, wrapping
it quickly around the damaged hand and re- depositing the bracelet.

Across the room, She began to rise, collecting her books and making as much noise
leaving as she did upon her arrival.  The Watcher blinked several times, glancing
at the clock as his subject slipped out of the library.  He watched the doors
open, sheets of rain slamming into the quarry as she slipped out. She let out a
shriek and settled the stack of books atop her head as she began sprinting down
the sidewalk, using the books as a makeshift umbrella.  The thud of her boots
echoed loudly for some time as she fled from the storm.

Inside, The Watcher took one last glance of disbelief at the clock and rose. 
There was a dull ache in his left hand as he gathered up his notes, shoving them
unceremoniously into a small satchel. As he slung the bag over his shoulder he
took one final survey of the library, weaving his way through the network of
desks and information booths.  He paused at the door, peering out before pushing
his way out into the storm.

He was soaked in a manner of seconds, his tennis shoes protesting with an
exaggerated squelch as he picked his way through narrow alleyways and
near-deserted streets.  Fingers ran through his hair, disheveling the patches of
tangled black.  He smiled to himself as he passed a store window.  The reflection
staring back at him was pitiful.  His beige overcoat hugged his body, pasted into
place by wave after wave unrelenting rain.  Battered tennis shoes continued their
wet clop as he splashed through rain- greedy potholes.  His pace remained casual,
there was no hurry.  He'd been following her home for months now, occasionally
renting a room in the motel across from her apartment.  The time for watching was
over.

He patted his left pocket as he crossed the street that was home to one of her
favorite coffee shops.  He peered briefly inside to make sure she hadn't stopped
in after her trip to the library as she did every so often.  His gaze danced from
one patron to the next in a manner of seconds. He could easily pick her out of a
crowd of hundreds.

Another quick scan confirmed that she wasn't there. He pushed ahead, tugging his
coat closer to his body.  He shrugged the small pack higher onto his shoulder, a
barely audible metallic clang echoing from it as it tapped a metal pole.  The
sound brought a sudden smile to The Traveler's lips as he spotted the silhouette
of Her building, gaze immediately finding a dimly lit window on the third floor.

He trotted across one final strip of asphalt, dodging a number of large potholes.
 Her apartment was nestled between several larger buildings, all of which looked
as if they might collapse in a strong gust of wind.  He shook his head, passing
through a pair of double doors and arriving at the bottom of a narrow stairwell. 
A row of battered mailboxes winked dully back at him under flickering lights,
dirt cached windows glowing as lighting flickered outside.

He began to climb the stairs at the same casual pace, his calm demeanor betrayed
only by the anxious curling and uncurling of his fingers as they dragged along
the stairs railing.  As he arrived at the third floor his hand dipped into his
jacket pocket, returning a moment later with the small bracelet.

He came to a stop at a door marked #304, in tarnished brass letters.  His fingers
closed around the door's knocker, tapping it three times.  His hand remained at
the knocker, the bracelet twined between his fingers and dangling directly in
front of the door's peephole.  As his hand left he brought the bracelet to his
face, studying it as his knocks went unanswered.  He continued the process a few
more times, his tri-thuds occasionally drowned out by the continuing roar of
thunder outside.

Finally, there was a flurry of clicks from the room beyond, followed by the groan
of the door as a sliver of light peeked from the entrance.  A gold colored chain
kept the door from opening entirely.  Without warning a half- face peered into
the hallway, boasting the same blue eyes, sans glasses, that he had studied less
than an hour ago.  The figure taking refuge behind the door asked hesitantly,
"Where'd you get that?"  A momentarily flick of her eyes tagged the bracelet as
the subject of inquiry.

The rain drenched figure offered her the most miserable smile in his repertoire,
sneezing a few times before answering, "You dropped it a few days back in the
library, spotted it by your table a while after you left."  He frowned as she
blinked several times at him, pausing momentarily, he continued, asking, "This is
yours isn't it?" His gaze ran over the bracelet, "It got smooshed a bit though,
think someone stepped on it.""

From behind the door she watched him, craning her neck slightly to study the
bracelet.  She gnawed on her lower lip, trying to bite back laughter at the sight
before her.   He would probably be attractive if left to dry out for awhile.  The
smooth lines of his jaw and lack of facial hair gave him a boyish appearance.  A
small puddle had begun to collect around his mangled tennis shoes, inching
towards her door.  He shuffled back and forth with a nervous energy that forced a
tiny smile to her lips.

She nodded once, her own hair still damp from the storm and falling forward to
veil her expression, "Yeah, I thought I'd lost it." and snaked her arm out of the
door, palm up.  The stranger pressed his own hand to hers, depositing the band of
trinkets into hers and lightly brushing fingertips.  He smiled inwardly as her
fingers stuttered against his and she retracted her arm through the crack.  She
stepped away from the door long enough to tuck the keepsake away and return,
asking, "How'd you track me down?"

He pitched forward in a fit of coughing, offering her a smile as his gaze met
hers again, "I was headed into the library when I caught a glimpse of you."  His
speech was interrupted momentarily by a trio of sniffles, "It was a bitch keepin'
up with you, but I did manage to see you duck into the apartment."  He reached
into his pocket, pulling out a wad of tissues and blowing hard as he asked,
"Didn't you hear me trying to get your attention?"

She shook her head, studying him intently as if trying to figure out exactly what
to make of him, "No."

Laughing softly he shoved the wad back into his pocket, "Well it was a touch loud
out there.  Of course you have to live on the very top floor, and being the
genius I am, it took me a good ten minutes to notice the trail of rainwater
leading up to your place."  He smiled, "Anyway, having done my good deed for the
day I suppose I'll get going."  He raised his arm in a wave as he began to step
backwards, "Take it easy ... ?" his speech fading in implied question.

She glanced down at the chain, shaking her head as she slipped it off and pried
open the door.   One hand remained at the belt of the flimsy robe that hugged the
curves of her body while she extended the other in greeting and thanks,
"Stephanie Walters, and thanks, thanks a lot. The bracelet means a lot to me."

She shook her head again, "I have an umbrella around here somewhere, you look
like you could use it.  You can just drop it off sometime, or catch me at the
library."

He nodded quickly, splashing the door to her apartment in the process, "That'd be
great.  Don't suppose I could impose on you for a towel too?"  He added the last
with the same crooked smile he had greeted her with.

Her gaze once again traveled over his form, completing the motion with a slight
nod.   She replied quickly, "Not a bother.", and motioned him inside, pulling the
halves of her robe closer together as she slipped towards what the visitor
already knew to be her bedroom.

"Just a sec." She called over her shoulder as she disappeared through the
doorway.

He watched the movement of her shadow against a distant wall, smiling as she
awkwardly stumbled from one stack of clothing to the other.

"Excuse the mess, I'm in the middle of some major house cleaning."  The
silhouette scratched its head as phantom lips parted in speech, "I don't think I
caught your name?"

"Desmond." He replied, chuckling quietly to himself as he began locking the door
behind him.  As the chain slid into place he stepped away and began a leisurely
stroll towards the bedroom.   He paused at the phone, disconnecting the wire as
the shadow turned its back.

"Well, thanks again Desmond, that little trinket has been with the family for
quite aw--."  The spectre stooped down as something tipped over in the bedroom,
cursing softly to itself.

"I know.." was Desmond's response as his sneakers announced his arrival by
vomiting a small gout of water onto the bedroom floor.

She glanced up at him, head tilted in curiosity.  The robe had slid away to
reveal the entirety of her left leg.  The top of the robe had parted just enough
to expose a good portion of the stained white bra that appeared to almost bite
into her flesh.  Her face flushed red, first in shame, then in sudden anger as
she pulled herself up, cinching the belt of her robe tightly.

She pointed towards the other room, "Maybe it'd be better if you waited outside."
 Her anger dwindled with each word, dulled by the flash of the lightning outside.

Desmond's smile shone with a B-movie brilliance as he shook his head.  He stepped
forward, eyes dragging slowly over her, deliberately lingering where the robe
threatened to part again.   His voice was soft as he spoke, "I couldn't do that
Stephanie, not after all the work I've done."

The figure that had appeared so comical just moments ago now approached Stephanie
with a glance that could flay skin from bone.  She took an involuntary step
backward, the lines of her face merging into a roadmap of confusion and fear,
"What're you talking about?"  She pointed to the door again, "Get out, my
boyfriend will be here any minute."

Laughter spilled from Demonds lips, a sick sort of mirth that caused Stephanie's
stomach to clench, "Your boyfriend?"    He reached out, fingers closing around
the wrist of her outstretched arm, "You're a pathetic liar, always have been."

Her brows once again knitted in confusion, `Alwa-" Her speech degenerated into a
gargle of pain as her arm has wrenched painfully around, pulling the rest of her
body with, her back towards her attacker.  She twisted in his grip but succeeded
only in bringing herself even closer to him. A pitiful, "No." was her only
protest as he pinned her arm to her stomach, pressing himself almost flush to her
back.

He caught a glimpse of her expression in the full- length mirror at the opposite
end of the room, the friction of her struggle causing a sigh of pleasure to
escape his lips and wash against her bare neck.  Her eyes were already wet with
tears, lids heavy as if trying to escape into slumber. There was a silence as his
free hand snaked along her belly, under her pinned arm and clawing for the robe's
belt.  This was followed by a flurry of movement as she whimpered in protest.

As she squirmed Desmond stamped a few light kisses to her neck, whispering, "That
feels wonderful Stephanie, you always were such the fighter.  I'm glad to see
some things never change." His fingers yanked at the robes binding, the strip of
fabric falling to the sides of her robe. Stephanie's body stiffened, breath
catching as his fingertips made contact with the newly exposed flesh.  His nails
dragged lightly over her soft skin, one finger circling her belly button.

Her tormentor continued to speak as he casually explored her body, "I bet it has
been a long time since anyone's touched you Stephanie, hasn't it?" His fingers
ran briefly over her pinned arm, stroking the fine hairs that were invisible to
everything but touch.  They climbed upward with every breath, index finger
tracing a loose arc where fabric once again thwarted his progress.

She began to swat his fingers away with her free hand, her movements only causing
her robe to fall open even further.  His neck craned as he planted a trail of
soft kisses along her neck, his fingers finding their way to her chin and forcing
her gaze to the full length mirror across the room.

The figure staring back at her sniffled, a steady stream of tears escaping the
corner of her eyes.  Stephanie felt a momentary twinge of pity for the miserable
creature across the room.  Her twins hair was still damp and occasionally slipped
forward, only to be pushed away again by the fiend pressed to her back.  Her body
was in fairly good shape, a slight pinch at her stomach speaking of an
unfulfilled promise to escape to the gym every so often.   Ample breasts were
held in place by a bra that appeared to be a size too small.  The taut fabric was
near threadbare and proudly boated what looked like a coffee stain.

The lower half of her body began with a dramatic flare of the hips, followed by
long legs that pressed tightly together to protect the soft swell nestled
between.  A pair of white briefs protected her from the probing glare of the
figure behind her.  Her whole body shook in fear, frustration, and rage as she
twisted in Desmond's grip, her subdued whimper gradually gaining strength and
transforming into a series of hissed curses.

Stephanie closed her eyes to escape the image, from the realization that the
figure across the room was her. Fingers ran through her hair, yanking her head
back to gaze into a pair of hungry eyes.  The thin lips settled below those eyes
spoke to her in a cold whisper as her own lips formed a small O and showered
Desmond's face with spittle.

He blinked several times before his tongue peeked out, washing over his own lips
as he laughed down at her, "You make such a wonderful show of it, but I am tired
of games now."  He shoved her head forward again, a foot pressing at the seam of
her legs, whispering, "Spread your legs like a good girl and you won't get
hurt..."

She twisted suddenly at his words, the elbow of her free arm driving into his
stomach and forcing him back a few steps.  Stunned and unable to comprehend her
freedom Stephanie simply spun, staring at Desmond as he pitched forward, his hand
clutching his stomach.  As the reality of her situation once again clicked she
rushed past him, knocking him slightly off balance in the process.

Screaming, she rushed to the door, her footsteps thudding loudly against the
floor.  As her fingers scrambled to undo the array of locks keeping her prisoner
she continued to scream, hoping to draw some attention to the tiny apartment. 
Her fingers closed around the last lock, her other hand tugging the door wide
open.

The knob of the door was wrenched suddenly from her grip as a foot slammed
against the door, hammering it shut once again.  She turned around just in time
to see a hand settle on her shoulder, fingers digging into her flesh and yanking
her towards and past Desmond's form.  She could hear the locks clicking again as
inertia carried her forward, depositing her on top of a wooden coffee table with
a deafening crack.  She screamed again as the piece of furniture collapsed
beneath her, ragged fingers of wood scraping a series of scarlet channels down
her back.

The robe, which had half-obscured her body, now dangled uselessly from one
shoulder, tripping her up as she tried to stand.  She collapsed a few feet from
the bedroom, tangled completely in the fabric as she tried to push upwards again.
 Without warning she was flung another several feet as a foot connected with her
side.  The force sent her tumbling past the doorway of the bedroom.  As she
raised her head she caught sight of Desmond's hand swooping down in a violent
arc, the end of which was the side of her face.

She rolled once again with the blow, her right leg coming up in a half-hearted
counter as Desmond circled her now prone form.  All strength fled her body,
unable to even crawl away from him she sat and panted.  She watched as he
circled, her cracked lips issuing hundreds of apologies at once, pleading for
impossibilities.  He looked disappointed as she continued to babble away, finally
pausing directly in front of her.

"You've disappointed me Stephanie, I expected more of a fight then that."  His
hands went to the buckle of his belt as he spoke, very slowly tugging the strip
of leather free.

She blinked up at him, tears clouding her vision as she croaked back at him,
"Please, I've got money, I can get more...I won't tell anyone..please.."  Her
speech faltered as she watched his hands, shrinking backwards as she continued,
"Please.."

The hands continued working, hands much too powerful to be attached to the
rail-thin frame standing before her.  Even with the force behind the earlier
blows she had sensed he had been holding back.  The sound of a zipper caused
Stephanie to slam her eyes shut, the motion doing nothing to thwart the flow of
tears.

"LOOK AT ME."  Desmond demanded as soon as her eyes closed.  As they sprung back
open she gasped sharply, the power of his voice against her mind more powerful
than any physical punishment he had subjected her to so far.

In his right hand was cradled an implement boasting an expression that mirrored
the rage stenciled across Desmond's face.  His hand pumped casually back and
forth along its length as he stared down at her, "Get the rest of those clothes
off and kneel before me."

She stared up at him in disbelief as she began to disentangle herself from the
robe.  It took her several minutes to accomplish the feat, her aching body,
coupled with Desmond's demand that she keep her eyes on the movement of his hand,
impeded her progress.  Trembling fingers finally cast aside her bra, its contents
almost spilling out as she leaned back.  Her thumbs slipped under the waistband
of her briefs, tugging them slowly off.

She struggled to pull herself up and into a kneeling position in front of him,
her whole body shaking as she wept.  A hand fell to the side of her face, fingers
pressed against her chin and guiding her mouth closer to him.  She had to
struggle to keep her eyes open, knowing that Desmond would be watching her every
movement.

Her eyes remained leveled as her lips were placed a few inches away from his sex.
 Her whole body trembled in the moment of silence that followed, each blink of
her eyes tempting her to shut out the sight entirely.  She could feel blood
running down her back, oozing from a cut in her lip. Tears and blood pooled at
her chin, falling in steady drops onto her folded legs.

The silence was broken by the sound of Desmond's voice, steady and controlled. 
He was confident as he spoke, secure in the fact that she would do anything to
save herself from any further harm, "Suck me off. The moment I feel teeth, you
lose them."

Her stomach clenched again and her lips parted in protest, the sound ending up a
soft gurgle as he pushed himself forward.  She opened her jaws wide to avoid
grazing him with her teeth.  Her eyes pitched upward, pleading silently with him
as he stroked the side of her face.

"Maybe I hit you a bit too hard?" He asked,  "For your own good I hope I didn't,
because if you don't start to suck in the next five seconds I'm just going to
have my fun elsewhere."  His foot slipped forward, the tip of his shoe prodding
eagerly between her legs.

Panicking, she collapsed the insides of her cheeks, sucking hard in her
desperation and prompting him to laugh.

"I forgot. You've never seen a mans cock, let alone sucked one."  He said as he
watched the movement, "Well, we'll have you up to speed in no time."  His fingers
slipped into her hair as he said the last, tugging her head back then pressing
forward again as he spoke, soft moans escaping his lips.

She stared up at him as he guided her movements, almost choking as he forced her
to take his entire length. She began to pick up the movements on her own, trying
desperately not to gag.  She winced every so often as her teeth made contact with
his skin, prompting a series of hisses from Desmond, "You're going to pay for
that later bitch. You remember that."

She was finding it hard to breathe as he continued to pump into her mouth, the
movement of his hips occasionally crushing her nose into the thick patch of hair
between his legs.  His hands left her momentarily as he pushed his pants down
farther,  "You can do better than that Steph, use your tongue, you remember how
it's done. I know you do."

Her tongue flickered experimentally against him, the sigh of pleasure it prompted
speeding her movements.  She began to feel dizzy as his hips pressed against her
cheeks, her tongue dancing over him.  The room around her began to blur, his
words echoing over and over in her mind, "You remember...I know you do." 
Suddenly, she did, or something inside her did.

The room grew cold as she raised a hand, fingers slipping between his legs,
gently massaging him as the movements of her tongue grew increasingly elaborate. 
She abandoned herself to the feeling, the carpet under her knees growing even
colder in comparison to the rest of the room. There was a crackling sound
somewhere in the distance, and the faint touch of heat against her back.  The
carpet became stone beneath her.

Desmond laughed, his voice barely discernable through his moaning, "I told you, I
knew you hadn't forgotten...you'll always belong to me."  His hands found their
way to her hair again, his hips jerking violently as her fingers slid up and down
his legs.  There was another sound filling the room, a satisfied moan that seemed
to be escaping Stephanie's lips as her hands slid backwards, stroking Desmond and
pulling him ever closer.

She sucked eagerly at him now, the sounds of her pleasure drowning out his own as
blood and tears stained her face in equal measure.  She tried to fight whatever
it was that kept her lips pressed to him. A force that demanded she taste
everything he had to offer.  The constant sniffling coupled with the parade of
pleasured moans and half sighs emanating from the couple seemed to be carried
beyond the confines of the small room, amplified and hammered back into
Stephanie's ears.

Her shame blossomed as she shifted slightly, the thicket of hair between her legs
damp with need.  Her mind screamed for her to beg him for more. For him to take
her, for her to tear her lips away and spread herself open for him. Mind, body,
and soul.  Something told her it was right that he would be her first, that he
would steal her innocence.  That same thing told her that it also wasn't her
place to ask such a thing, that he would take her when he was ready.

It was on this thought that a warmth filled her mouth as Desmond pinned her face
against him.  She swallowed quickly to keep from gagging, writhing against him in
pleasure as she drank without question.  She continued to suck well after he had
spent himself completely, moaning in frustration as he pushed her roughly away. 
She watched him with a hungry glare, her breathing ragged as she rolled onto her
side.

Her own world began to snap back into focus, the confidence, the almost alien
consciousness which had guided the movements of her lips and hands slipped away.
She began to curl into a tight ball with the realization of what had happened,
growing dizzy with nausea and despair.  She stared blankly ahead as her lids
began to flutter shut, her mind dwelling over the only thing The Other had left
her.

She knew now that somehow this was her place and that she would never again be
leaving the side of the man she knew only as Desmond.  This thought did little to
comfort her.  It mingled with the unanswered questions that gnawed away at her. 
Her mind tried to make sense of the last hour as she grew increasingly tired. 
She grasped desperately at the remaining threads of consciousness that kept her
awake, finally letting out a defeated sigh as her body went limp and she drifted
to sleep.