Author's note: This is quite a long story, and as a result it takes some time to get to the 'good bits' (the sex). As with most of my submissions I have tried to make it a complete story, which involves plot, characters and a good amount of sex. It is a romance; so don't expect anything too kinky. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it. All feedback is greatly appreciated -- BB1212
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The Alarm.
It's four fifteen on a Friday afternoon, and I'm in my office, trying to get through the paperwork in my in tray before the weekend. I never really wanted to be a bank manager, but here I am, sitting in the chair and doing the job to the best of my ability.
It's strange really, the way life drags you kicking and screaming off in an entirely different direction than the one you had planned.
The alarm screams, shaking me from my thoughts. I look around in panic, trying to remember which one it is. Fire alarm I decide, and the sprinklers turn on just in time to confirm my suspicions. I rush from my office, still taking the time to carefully lock the door behind me. The vault is not yet sealed, and as the most fireproof place on the twenty-first floor I don't want to lock it until I know every person is safely out.
There's panic outside, in the main office. Men and women screaming and rushing at the doors, jamming them tight in their selfish struggle to make sure they are the one who gets out first.
"STOP!" I cry, and because my voice is the one they are used to taking commands from, they at least pause and look at me. "Slowly out the door in an orderly fashion," I say, a little quieter, trying hard to remember the script from the fire drills. "Do not use the lifts, but check the stairwell for smoke and heat before using it." The familiar instructions seem to calm them. "This might just be a surprise drill," I say, knowing full well that on a Friday afternoon it can't be, "So go down the stairs in an orderly fashion, and don't run." At least the exit to the doorway is less crowded now, as the people behind, who were pushing have slowed down to listen, and the pushing has stopped. I watch and supervise as the office staff leave, their smart business clothes saturated from the sprinklers, their hair wet and water dripping down countless pairs of glasses.
Finally the main office is cleared, but the alarm is still screaming as I check all the other offices, all the toilets and even all the cupboards that are big enough to hold a person. It is dim, the power has gone off and the emergency lighting has come on. The floor is empty now, and I think about the vault. I could seal it now, but then it won't open again until Monday morning, and I still have another floor to check. I lock the main doors behind me, and walk down the deserted stairs to the twentieth floor, second from the top, and the rest of my branch. I can hear the bustle, the strained voices and the hurried footsteps way below me as people rush for the exits. On the landing, halfway down a woman is sitting, just holding her foot with her face contorted in pain.
"What happened?" I ask. It would be silly to ask if she is OK, she obviously isn't.
"Someone pushed me and I fell, then someone stepped on my ankle." I nod.
"I have to check the next floor below," I explain, "but I will come back for you when I'm finished." She looks frightened.
"Promise?" she asks, her eyes pleading.
"Promise," I say putting my hand on her shoulder reassuringly. She is shivering. I leave quickly, there is still work to do and she is just going to make it harder for me to get out, so now I have to do it faster.
The floor below is deserted, but two of the teller's stations have not been sealed, and the cash drawers are open. It looks like someone has taken some cash. Sighing I find the camera in the supervisors drawer, and I hurriedly photograph the stations before closing them and sealing them. Everything else is in order, and once again I lock up as I go around. My head is aching from the screaming alarm, and my suit is sodden, and it clings unfashionably to my body. I look out of the window in one office, trying to see what the situation is and I gasp in surprise. The road below is packed with fire engines, police, ambulances and people. I see my building reflected in the glass sides of the building in front of me, and the fire is massive. At least four floors have flames billowing from the windows, and there is only a gap of three or four more to where I stand. I stare momentarily, and for the first time I wonder if I am going to survive. I have to remind myself not to panic and run, as I lock the doors and head back out to the stairwell. Smoke billows from the door when I open it, and I take a deep breath and go through, heading up as I promised. The woman is in a heap as I approach, and I think she is unconscious, but then she turns to me with obvious relief.
"I thought..." she starts to say, but I pick her up quickly and put her over my shoulder, still holding my breath. I have no impression of weight; the adrenalin in my system handles the load with ease. I pause, up or down I wonder, but the smoke from below is thickening as I watch. If it were safe to go down there, then there would be firemen here by now I decide, and I head up. The safest place for us is the roof. From there we can be rescued by helicopter. The woman is gripping my arm firmly, almost painfully, but she stays quiet, seemingly she trusts my judgement. I just hope I live up to that trust. The smoke is getting worse, and I cough, as I finally have to breathe in. We pass the twenty-first floor door and head up one more flight to where the ladder is that will take us to the roof. I gently place the woman onto the ground as I search for the rope in the dim light. I pull the rope firmly, to bring the ladder down, but it doesn't budge. Damn, I curse inwardly, the maintenance people are supposed to make sure this works OK. I pull again harder, and then harder again. The woman is coughing weakly, and watching nervously as she realises what the problem is. Finally the rope breaks at the top. We now have no way to get onto the roof. Thinking quickly I take off my suit coat, and then my tie and shirt. I tear an eighty-dollar shirt in half and wrap half around the woman's face so the damp cloth can filter the smoke. I do the same to myself with the other half and then pick her up again. As we head down I can see the red glow of the fire, it is in the stairwell. There is only one hope now, and I rush to the door to my floor. I unlock the main doors to the bank, but fall as we go through. At leastt the air in here is still clear. I gasp for air as the woman kicks the door shut behind us with her good foot.
"We're going to die, aren't we?" she asks weakly, sounding more resigned to her fate than worried about it.
"Not if I can help it," I gasp, and I struggle back to my feet. She shakes her head and points, and my eyes follow to look out of the window at the end of the corridor. The fire has come up at least one floor, and it seems to be growing. I nod.
"The safest place in the building now is the vault," I say, and hold my hands to her.
"Really?" I can see she doesn't want false hope, and I think she has been somehow let down in the past.
"Really," I say positively. She looks at me curiously.
"And just how do you expect to break into a bank vault before the fire gets to this floor?"
"I'm the manager," I explain, and she looks surprised. I'm used to that, I'm thirty-eight, but people still think I'm in my twenties. I keep fit and I just have a young face. "I haven't locked it yet, in case I couldn't get everyone out." We can feel the heat radiating off the door and smoke is seeping through the door. She holds her hands up, and I take them and pull her upright. She winces as she gingerly puts her weight on her sore foot.
"Then what are we doing out here?" she asks, with a glimmer of hope.
Into the Vault.
I can see her starting to panic as I pull the massive door shut behind us.
"Can we just leave it open a bit?" she asks nervously.
"The door is only fireproof when it is shut," I tell her gently.
"Is it airtight?" At least she is asking logical questions.
"Yes," I say, "and we have enough air in here to last six people for about four days." She nods, and I turn the wheel, sealing us in this room until half past eight on Monday morning. I hit the alarm button, now they will know we are in here. We unwind the tattered shirt from our faces, breathing the clean air with relief. Even the fire alarm is quiet now, with just a slight buzz and a small flashing red light in the roof of the vault to indicate that the building may be burning down around us. The woman is looking around. The room is small, maybe half the size of my office, and each wall has shelving attached with a couple of rows of locked heavy duty drawers and shelves with big bundles of cash just stacked on them. The space left in between is going to be just big enough for the two of us to lie down head to head when we have to sleep. For now we sit, one at each end of the vault and just look around, trying to avoid looking at each other. It is very dark in the vault, with just the alarm indicator and one emergency light on. It was already on when we came in.
