Passion of Eria Christensen

The Passion of Erika Christensen, Chapter 5: Free Katie,

by AchtungNight.

Celebs:

Erika Christensen, Keri Russell, Katie Holmes, Alicia Witt.

Codes:

rom, MFF, anal, fist, oral, F-solo, toys, FF, reluc, voy.

Standard disclaimer: This story is a satirical fantasy. It is fictional, even though its plot is based on actual events. All characters that mirror real people are fictionalized. All celebrities in the story are impersonated — poorly. I, the author, have no actual connection to any celebrity mentioned in this story other than being their fan, and I acknowledge that they do not act in real life the way my characters based on them do. I did not write this tale for financial profit and I expect none from it. This story contains controversial adult themes and situations, so it should not be read by those who are close-minded or under age 18.

Intro:

Welcome. A while back, I had a personal burnout and decided not to continue this series. Over two years later, the burnout has passed and the threads I left dangling have been nagging me. Thus, I decided to finish things. The concluding chapter is long because there are many threads. This is not the story I set out to write in the beginning — time and readers' desires have changed quite a bit. It does conclude the series, though. For me, that is enough.

No other story is necessary reading to understand everything that goes on in this one. However, my other tales may key you in further on past developments. Thanks to the many people who helped me research, write, and publish this story. Thanks to you as well for reading. Feedback is welcomed.

***

The Passion of Erika Christensen, Chapter 5: Free Katie

London, England. January 2009.

"Inside Out, this is Frost-Fire speaking."

"Doug, John Travolta. I was hoping I'd get you."

"John, hey," the club manager said. "I heard about your son. You have my deepest condolences."

"Thanks. I got your card. It was nice."

"How are you holding up? Are your wife and daughter okay?"

"We're persevering, with help and good will from mutual friends. I'm still shocked it happened."

"I can imagine. My own mother has a seizure disorder, and she's had poor reaction to medication just like your son did. I often worry about her health."

"Is your mother a famous adherent of a religion whose members are schooled to consider themselves perfect, the rest of the world be damned?"

"No." Doug grimaced. "I suppose your situation is worse."

"You bet it is. I got idiots thinking they can extort money from me by threatening to cast my son's death in a negative light before the world. Other folks are calling me a bad parent, acting like they know more about my situation than I do. They're at least partly right. If I weren't a bad parent, my son would still be alive. I should have gotten him a full-time nurse, the proper medicine. I should have educated myself more about his problem. Why couldn't I do that? Why did I let him die?"

"John, take it easy. You loved your son. The right people know and will acknowledge that. You weren't expecting him to die the way he did, and some responses to the event have been despicable. I don't think you should let those who would exploit your loss get you down."

"You're right. I'll live past this." John muttered something unintelligible and then recovered. "There's another matter on which I need your input. You remember what you told me about your past? Before you ascended to your current position in our society, you were a cop. You read the disturbing information about Scientology online and took it upon yourself to do something."

"I infiltrated the local branch of your church," Doug recalled, lowering his voice. "I had to find out if you were really as bad as people thought, and shut you down if you were. It only took me nine and a half weeks to learn I had the wrong idea. Your faith wasn't something I needed or wanted to be part of directly, but you were capable of as much good as you were evil. The picture I had was distorted and biased. It still is in many ways."

"That's our fault as much as yours. Sometimes we're difficult to understand."

"You still exist and are part of humanity. One day those who criticize you will learn to understand that, as I did. More people will gather friends from across the divide."

"Will they? Doug, you accept your stance on Scientology because you're in love with one of us. You make concessions for her, and vice versa. Not everyone has such a luxury."

"I'm not the only one who cares about someone in your church. There's also the ongoing initiative the Friendship has to aid you."

"That's why I'm calling. Forgive my disrespect, but when the heck are we going to enact that plan? I mean thoroughly put it forward. Scientology is messed up, and it seems only the victims and their advocates are paying attention. Those who can fix things won't."

"We're working to change that."

"So I hear. I have faith in our society. I chose to remain in Scientology because of that faith and the benefits I thought I perceived. Now look at what that decision has cost me."

He's losing it, Doug thought. I need to reassure him. "John, the goal of our operation is difficult. We have to transform your church, with regard for every issue that encompasses. We also would like to avoid war, persecution, and all the other evils the past has visited upon contentious sects. As I discovered during my time inside Scientology, such things are not the proper course. The alienation and intolerance they breed overshadows any good they might achieve."

"Did Erika help you come to that revelation?"

"I already knew it. She did enable me to admit it directly to Scientologists, though. Other Friends like you have helped."

John guffawed. "I wish more of our detractors walked your road. The plan is flawed, though. I don't think it's making much headway."

"You're wrong. There are things for which you aren't cleared."

"Doug, if I don't see significant progress in the operation soon, I may do something drastic. Kelly agrees it could be necessary. We're both ready."

"Are you contemplating departure?"

"That, and speaking out, the way others have. If I can find the right words and medium, it might get our executives' attention and not just that of the demagogues."

"Have you talked to Melissa about this, or Taron?" Melissa Prynne was the Scientologist cleric who was officially in charge of the operation they were discussing. Taron Lexton, a visionary Hollywood director, was her counterpart among the church's celebrity adherents.

"They said I needed to contact you."

"Oh. Well, what they wanted me to tell you is this. Scientology is on the brink of everything for which we have dreamed. We are at a crossroads. You remember your former director of special affairs, Melissa's mentor? He recruited numerous agents before he was forced to resign his post, including your Chairman's wife."

"She hasn't been seen in public the past three years."

"That's by her choice. She went into seclusion to work with the Friendship, devise a way to enact our hopes for your religion. Last September, she approached her husband and offered our consultation to reform Scientology. Others had made similar proposals before, but the Chairman wouldn't listen. He had the wrong mindset about us, and didn't fully comprehend his circumstances. On this occasion, however, things were different."

"Is he giving in?"

"He'll never attest to such in public, but yes. This information is restricted, John. You can discuss it with Melissa, Taron, your wife, and me. That's it. The Friendship is still bringing the Chairman over. We want to limit the fallout if our talks collapse. Success will take a certain blend of diplomacy and intimidation. It's delicate in the extreme."

"I can appreciate that. Our church critics are right to call the Chairman a Napoleonic bastard."

"He has things to answer for. At present, we're arranging dominoes to motivate him. I'll email you an overview. The decades-old wave of protests, press leaks, and lawsuits are all part of the process. Forgive us, but even your son's death will play a role."

"I expected as much. The Chairman's a nice target, but he's only the tip of the iceberg. What about the fanatics he condones and directs?"

"Our loyal Scientologists will influence them away from the dark side. You, Kelly, and everyone else are key elements of the plan."

"Will we be enough?"

"The Friendship and I hope so. You still want to jump ship?"

"We might. Kelly and I will take this new information into account, though."

"Okay. Be sure to give us advance notice before you do anything."

"Keep us posted. We appreciate the Friendship's efforts."

"I do too, no matter that I sometimes wish I was made privy to our initiative earlier. I didn't learn of it until I terminated my self-appointed undercover mission, left Scientology, and confessed to some higher ranking Friends what I had done. They introduced me to you, and helped me establish my club so I could give aid to celebrities the way I desired. In retrospect, I'm glad. I don't know how I would have handled things had I known before."

Silence reigned on the line for a few seconds. When John resumed speaking, there was fire in his tone. "Doug, what if I had a stratagem that could push our efforts forward? It might really get the Chairman to see things our way, and not just him either. There's a man who was a Friend once upon a time, before he got caught up in Scientologist fever. I'm talking about Tom Cruise. I think we need him back on our side."

"Tom Cruise?" Doug repeated. "He's the poster boy for the Chairman's faction, John. His outspokenness over Scientology has retarded our efforts in great amount. I know what you're going to say. He's been changing his persona recently because he ruined his own career. I'm not sure about that. It's one thing to quit being vocal about something to the media, and another to actually regret your behavior."

"His change is real. The Friendship tasked me with watching him in the 1990s, when it first became obvious he was choosing Scientology over us. He wasn't quite as zealous back then, and now he's reverting. Other Friends have confirmed this, including his sister Lee Anne and his maid. They're monitors for Tom like I am. Lee Anne and Kelly helped me come up with this scheme. We can only arrange the players, though. We need you and Erika to do the big things that will win Tom over. I believe this plot will aid us no matter the result. It involves people who love Tom and vice versa. Do I have your support?"

Doug didn't take long to assent. "If the plan is good enough, you do. What are the details?" He listened for the next several minutes, smiled, and said, "John, I don't think we should reveal this conspiracy to Erika immediately. It would be better if she got involved on her own. She will. I've never known her to reject a righteous cause. You and the others set up your ends, I'll handle things here. I like the plan otherwise. Alea iacta est."

"What?"

"Latin for 'the die is cast.' It's an appropriate phrase."

"You believe this will work, then?"

"The possibilities are enough to try."

***

Los Angeles, California. That Night.

Soap hands. Pick up and soap dish. Scrub dish. Rinse dish and hands. Put dish in dishwasher. Repeat.

Repeat endlessly.

I should not be doing this, Tom Cruise thought. He kept up the motions anyway.

Katie asked me to do this, he reminded himself. She's tired. In recent days, she's quite often told me she's tired. I can't convince her to do anything. The kids can, and she plays with them as enthusiastically as ever, but with me, she's "just there".

I should be used to these periods, he told himself while washing dishes. Our relationship's been going on almost four years now. Whirlwind courtship led to marriage, and we've done everything we can to appear happy together since. The world has been watching us, it hasn't been easy. I like to think we've succeeded. Still, we both know we're not always happy. Katie's distant from me much of the time, in mind if not in body, and when she's with me, her emotions are like a rollercoaster. She's jubilant, then she's sad, and then she's "just there". Lately she's been "just there" more and more. It's getting so I hardly know what's going on with her.

It's because of who we are, he reminded his id. We're one of the most famous couples in the world. I'm a great actor with multiple blockbuster movies. Katie had a few good films in her day too, and a TV series that was a huge hit. We have billions of fans watching us wherever we go, idolizing or protesting our every move. We can't live without tension.

And I have increased that tension, Tom reflected. When I first met Katie, I was so attracted to her, so in love with her. With exuberance, I declared that love to the world, and the world shuddered. They called my relationship with Katie a publicity stunt. They called it doomed. They called what we have a tragedy for her, and they called me many awful names. Our latest film performances getting panned by critics did not help matters. Nor did my ill-advised public battle with Brooke Shields over depression, something I still regret starting to this day.

"That is over now!" he snapped, slamming a glass into the dishwasher's upper rack. He cringed, glad it was unbroken.

"Stop your rage," Tom commanded himself in a softer tone. He felt his heart calm.

It has been four years, he told his id. That battle is over. I apologized to Brooke, and she forgave me. The person who suggested I start the battle is gone. I never should have listened to her advice, and I never will have to again. I have a good life now. Katie has only been a benefit to that life.

Has she? Tom wondered, scrubbing hard at a pan. I don't know. I love her, Katie's great; but ever since we got together, my career has been on a downturn. My movies don't do as well anymore. The last one, 'Valkyrie', has done okay so far. However, its success was nowhere near as big as that of the films I've had in the past. The same is true for most of my films in recent years. If it wasn't for the sound investment advice I get, my finances might actually be in serious jeopardy right now.

Katie's career has suffered too, and although she denies it, I think she blames me. She says she loves me and is happy to be married to me and mother to our daughter and the other two children we've adopted. Still, though, she's emotionally distant from me all the time. She smiles, yet her eyes never light up.

Tom had to stop himself from slamming the dishes into their racks again as he recalled that nothing he had tried to change this had worked. He and Katie had attended every marriage course their advisers recommended, done every seminar and exercise. Nothing helped. Katie was still the same, loving but distant. She would not speak frank with her husband and she withdrew into herself rather than tell him what was troubling her. In his heart, Tom believed it a miracle Katie was still with him and often worried that one day she would change her mind.

"You shouldn't think like this," he said. He rinsed another plate and put it in the dishwasher. "She still loves you."

She did, he knew. Tom had fallen in love with Katie from the moment he saw her, and he had known from her face that she felt the same. All the disbelief directed at their relationship was meaningless. The connection and attraction between them was undeniable. Neither his two previous wives nor his many former girlfriends had made Tom feel as happy as Katie had in the past four years. He had made every effort to show and tell her this, yet she was still distant. Even their recent trial separation, which had coincided with Katie's first stint on Broadway, had not changed that in the least. All the time they had spent together since the separation ended had not helped either. The goddamn media's fabricated stories made the situation even worse. They frightened Tom's wife and disgusted him. Earlier that evening she had complained about it. Maybe she had forgotten it by the present moment, or if not, she needed his comfort.

"She's upstairs in her room," he said to himself. "I should go there once I'm done here, sleep there tonight. I should be with her."

Maybe this would be the time, he hoped. Tom would break through his wife's shell and get her to tell him what she really wanted. He would give it to her, whatever it was. She would finally be happy with him after he did, and express that unprompted to his face. Their loving would be joyous, wonderful. He could be brave again and then go on to reclaim his past level of success. Katie would love him and he would be confident of that love.

"I can make it happen," Tom told himself. The short dark-haired handsome man turned away from the sink and clenched his fists, grinning with determination. Soap and water stains shone on his black turtleneck and jeans. "I can do this! I can make it happen! It will be so!

"Shit," he cursed as he turned around, "I better remember to take my Viagra!"

Yes, Tom Cruise needed Viagra. He was in his late forties, and despite being the very personification of macho in the past, his stamina had wilted in recent years. He could hardly believe it himself. Yes, he was a major action star with many high-testosterone films including "Top Gun", "Tropic Thunder" and "Risky Business". Yes, he followed a religion that discouraged the use of prescription drugs. No, he had never had trouble getting women attracted to him. For some unknown reason, though, to maintain an erection he still needed the damn little blue pill.

Tom closed the dishwasher and looked around after starting it, trying to recall where he kept his Viagra. I'd better take it if I want to get anywhere with Katie tonight, Tom told himself. She says that she doesn't mind my problem, but I know she's lying. I better find my medicine and get control of myself. I'm amped up right now, my emotions are high, and that never helps me gain power over my body. If I'm too pumped, I might even get stupid. I don't want that.

"Calm down," Tom told himself. "Where did I put it? Where did I put that ...?"

Ring!

He sighed and picked up the telephone. "Cruise residence."

"Tom!" a familiar voice answered. "How you doing, buddy?"

"Hey John," Tom greeted his old friend and fellow actor. "I'm okay. I just finished washing the dishes."

"Washing the dishes?" John Travolta asked, tone full of disbelief. "That doesn't sound like you."

"Katie was tired and the maid quit this morning," Tom explained. "Bella and Connor had too much homework and Suri's still too young for most chores. Come on. Don't tell me you don't get stuck with the dishes some nights."

"Yeah, but not if I can help it," John replied, laughing again. "I haven't talked to you in a while and I thought I should. Are you okay? You sound distressed."

Tom contemplated not answering and then shrugged. Why not? John had enjoyed a longer and happier marriage than his. He might know what to do. Maybe my soul reached out to him, Tom thought. I know that's possible. It has happened to me many times before.

"It's Katie," he told John. "She's distant from me and I want to change that."

"Uh oh! She's not making you happy?"

"No, John, she's making me very happy," Tom insisted. He looked around and relaxed when he saw no one watching him. "I just can't get through to her. Something's always bothering her when she's with me and I can't make her tell me what it is. We've tried everything. Hell, you know what we've been through. You and Kelly have gone through all the same things!"

"Well, I don't know about that." John lowered his voice. "Do you need me to fly in from Florida, take you out on the town like I used to do in the Nicole days? Get your spirits up?"