Ember Burn Seductive Interlude

First : Chains

Angie turned off the lights in the livingroom after a final look around. Everything was in place... like always. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she walked up the stairs to the two empty bedrooms... and her own private sanctuary from the madhouse that was every day.

The bedroom looked as it always did... neat and ordered. The large wooden posts that cornered her bed showed little sign of its true age. The bed itself rested between two large, currently shade-drawn windows. The deep blue comforter, crisp as if it had never known a human body, lay over the queen-sized bed with near-perfect military corners. Two nightstands flanked the head of the bed, each supporting a simple light and alarm clock. To the extreme right, tucked into the corner, sat her computer desk. Left... and slightly offset... was the open door to the spacious bathroom.

* * * *

Asleep.

The Dream again.

She doesn't recognize the room. Bone-white walls. The scene outside the Window changes... but the overall theme does not... Dangerous. City streets... nighttime images of small towns with deep and foreboding woods... stretching as far as she dared look.

She knows he's there. Somewhere. She can feel him. The bed looks rather plane. The smoke-gray comforter lounges on the bed, crumpled and lazy. Like he Looked... to others.

Fingers drift gently through her hair. She closes her eyes... and Saw. Saw her body in his arms again. Felt the power ripple the flesh and muscle... the strength deep and ever-lasting rumbling through his bones. Angie tried to hold the image... tried to cling to the powerful form she knew was there...

Then... The Pain.

It came slowly this time. So slowly she was able to see herself turn to watch its approach. Slow enough that she Felt her humiliation creep into her... banishing even the Feel of his touch.

The Pain came. First... a burning line across her back. And in that instant... the Chains gripped her. Her arms flung wide...

Angie tried to scream. She tried to call his name... but could not. For she did not know it. She Knew only what would come next.

Again the Pain. This time... the sting of the whip graced her breasts...

Speak His Name.

^ ^ ^ ^

It was different. It was the voice of her grandfather. Old. Odd. But someone she always though of... as wise beyond his years. His Eyes...

She Remembered. Remembered those eyes. The way they looked at her...

through

her.

And a Memory...

^ ^ ^ ^

The bar was typical. She... was not. It was an impulse... one she still struggled to Understand. She seldom drank. And

never

hard liquor. This night... she ordered a rum and Coke.

She wore a white blouse and a black skirt. Conservative. The stockings matched the image... but were only part of the Whole. She'd worn garters... a change. Only that one time. It was the time she'd seen Him.

The Pain... but she dismissed it. Easily. She forced herself to Remember. To see his face. Boyish... but only just so. It... moved... through Time. Pain... she ignored it. She remembered how he stared at her. How those eyes slid over her body... looking through her. Somehow... she knew he Knew she wore garters. His eyes caressed her flesh. Her form. Then... they Looked into hers.

Pain...

Speak His Name.

It was Fantasy. Just a flight of fancy. But... he'd Seen something in her. She Knew it. Her heart pounded in her chest. She could Feel the heat from his body as he stepped up to the barstool beside her. Even through the heavy black duster... dripping wet and breathing cold from the temperature change inside-out. He Looked Inside of her. That's why he spoke. She Knew. She knew her size did not matter... only enhanced his ardor.

The Pain... only this time... it faded. She remembered watching his right hand roll onto its back. The fingers twitched... then... Flowed. She watched him for some time... Watched the hand... and the imaginary smoke that Formed and Flowed with his movements. It... and his fingers... were One.

Then... she saw the Chains... those on her wrists. The followed them. She knew where they would lead. Hoped she was wrong...

Memory betrayed her... for the Chains lay at his feet.

Speak His Name.

* * * *

Morning.

Sweat covered her form. Her breathing came in deep gasps. Angie tried to focus... tried to remain calm. Her eyes darted about the darkened room. She rolled over... or tried. Shame slapped her...

She closed her eyes... The Dream. The Memory. Corrupted... but all too true.

For it was as a child that her grandfather punished her for wetting the bed. She ran. He chased her. Caught her. Held her as his belt rose and fell time and again on her bottom. She remembers the pain... and the other. She'd only told one other... and he was no longer a part of her life.

Angie sighed heavily as she set about cleaning up the mess.

Again.

* * * *

Angry skies covered the city. The streets smelled of pre-storm hurry. A cold clung to everything... making even those willing to risk the trek move with rude purpose.

Angie let the cold freeze away the memory of the Dream... of the Abomination. She glanced down the street... and saw Him.

The Duster. The gray hooded sweatshirt. The baggy tan cargo pants that sported poofy pockets. As always... his eyes held her first.

He recognized her... and she watched as an easy smile pulled at his lips. Her hands, clasped in her lap, began to tingle. Then the flesh crawled... the Feeling moved... until it was around her wrists. Angie paused in her breathing... captivated.

Blink... and he is there. His words do not shatter the spell... only flow into it... until Reality is There. She enjoys the conversation... even as the odd sensation crawls along her back. One that is familiar...

They walk and talk. She finds it easy to let the words flow with him. His eyes inhale everything... See and Notice the small signs that would normally spell trouble... but to him... are only things of note. As the day fades into night... she finds it natural to move closer to him. As drops of vapor condense on the windshields and her breath comes in gray wisps... she finds warmth in his company.

She intended to spend a lazy day... not one of comfort. Angie spoke to him the entire day... and far into the evening. Her stomach grumbled, pulling a soft chuckle from his chest. He suggested a place... too upscale for his dress. Then she remembered... he was a cook.

The restaurant was definitely out of her pay scale. It was also some place he was known and respected. The Maitre'D smiled warmly... and honestly... when he approached. The table was in the main dining room... where the real money in the city ate their daily meals. Yet it was those same bodies... and the fact that they never seemed to notice two strangely dressed customers... that Angie found most disturbing.

They ate quietly. She watched him... he simply ate. Yet his eyes... Angie felt them everywhere... even behind her. She enjoyed herself.

And this... amazed her.

* * * *

He escorted her to her home. She cast a gaze at the lone security guard... who seemed overly curious about her companion. Her back stiffened... yet the guard simply sauntered towards them... tipped his hat... then continued on. She watched the figure's eyes... as they slid over the duster-clad form of...

Speak His Name.

Angie turned suddenly, her eyes locking onto the front door of her home. The Dream lay in wait for her. She could Feel the sting of the whip... Pain flooded her Senses... and Fear.

Then... she Felt it. Like the Cold burning of dry ice in the hand... it flowed from behind her. Warmed her. Angie backed up...

Into his arms.

* * * *

Confession.

The Words simply came. She watched his face... as it simply inhaled her words. He offered her true comfort. He sat there... and listened. He did not judge... he did not laugh as she cried over what now seemed so foolish and childish.

"You must think I'm stupid."

"No. Not at all."

Words. Words... that had Meaning. Words... Honest Words. Angie smiled... he smiled... and lay one hand over a wrist.

The Chains... were gone. Just... gone. She searched for their weight... only to feel his warm skin against her flesh.

She escorted him to the door. He didn't expect to stay... or to leave. She had need... he was there. She watched as the fog claimed him. The black form melted into the gray... reclaiming its kin.

* * * *

Night.

A Memory.

She was a child. Playing a child's game. With a young boy. She knew it was naughty. Dirty. Her parents would not approve. She did not expect her grandfather. The boy barely escaped. Panties still around her ankles, bent over, is how she was discovered.

A Memory.

The beating was intense... so intense she urinated on herself. Where there should have been Pain... there was also Pleasure. The lingering flutters of Playing Doctor. A young impressionable mind...

And a man's maybe secret desires. He flew into a rage when he felt her urine soak through his pants.

"SPEAK HIS NAME!!!"

Loyalty did not silence her tongue... the Pain did.

She wanted more.

Sleep claimed her...

There were no Chains. Only the memory. The arms that held her... without asking for anything more than the pleasure of the Honor of doing just that.

And when the Pain came... the Arms were there. She Felt... and was not ashamed.

Second : Insanity

Now normally... this is the part of the tale where I bump uglies with Morgana again.

Unfortunately... she took my advice. Nero... is dead. She let him stay that way. Raymond Burns... Ember? She's had enough of the Shadows. I don't really blame her. Especially not now... and she doesn't even know half of the tip. Think she Understands that... which explains why she never left a note. Just packed up and faded... on her own terms.

True... I can track her down. Easier now than when I was Nero. But... she made the choice. Not something I've seen people do these days. I respect it. Besides... it's kinda cheesy to break the tension with a good-bye boink.

That... and I Know... our Paths will cross again

* * * *

I was sitting at my favorite bar the day after... I think... Morgana vanished when my Thoughts strayed to Kandra. She was making quite a stir in the local school community. Seems they like having someone with a natural affinity for teaching, something she always had yet never developed.

The rest were making good progress with the Virgin Vault, though I doubt Nameless truly Understands what is happening to him.

It's interesting to watch the relationship between Razorburn and Kandra develop. She still hates me for being her Master, and does not Understand. Then again... she's never liked... or

needed

Pain.

She pops into view, a picture perfect corp slitch wanna be. Wannabe... only because of her size. While not orkish... you can tell from the guarded look on her features that she's more than accustomed to getting them. Too bad; I liked what I saw.

So... I let it show. At first, she glared lasers at me. Instead of getting offended... I simply nodded politely, letting my eyes slide until she was no longer in total focus. As she passed, I let my head turn slowly. Not quite tracking her... but it let her know that I was still interested in what I saw.

She slowed down. Most women do... when they know they're being ogled. Big women do it better, though. There's an honest air about it. Must come from being insulted by ditbrains.

Then... she ordered a rum and Coke.

* * * *

It came without warning. Without thought. Her entire life sprang in front of Eyes that Never Sleep. I Knew... and could not stop until I Understood.

* * * *

We talked. Just... talked. I forced myself to keep my Power at bay, but I could Scent the Lust in her. A stray thought... and I Knew she was wearing garters.

She is Sensitive. As is Kandra.

It helps to Know a Threat is there ahead of time. So... I talked with her. Walked with her... and eventually... she told me.

Control. I listened... and Felt. I Felt as she Felt... the Humiliation. The Confusion... everything. And the Hunger roared in my ears.

I Listened... but did not act.

* * * *

Three weeks. You'd think I'd be over Morgana by now. You'd think that the dates with Angie would help things. Not a chance. I still go to ground solo at nights.

But I don't let being single get me down. Can't; not with the Vault still a fraggin' timebomb waiting to blow.

I find myself sitting on the Throne of Bone more often than not. Every now and again, I actually remember to check these words... which seem to come whenever they choose... not when I decide. It's hard to confine my Thoughts when in this Form, but it is necessary.

It will also drive me insane. But... right now... having a body is a good sensation. Sure I can make myself look however I like... but I was

given

one form. Ember is as close to the original as I'm allowed by sensibilities... and even

that

grates. Fraggin' cost me the woman I love. Put me in this whole dating thing... right when I should be concentrating on the Vault. Which I am, though I'd bet solid creds that none of the others would believe it.

I Feel my cell ring... and Know who is on the other end. Angie.

And... for some reason... I Know it's raining.

* * * *

We both needed it. The gray skies never seemed to do much more than exist all day long. And they cam equipped with their own constant mist. Blah day all around... and Angie wanted to get out of her apartment. I didn't have any real plans... so I headed out with her. Rain' mist hit my face... and I Felt the Memories fade. Felt the Thoughts drift into the chill air with each exhaled breath.

She's dressed for the weather, the thick coat best suited for brief forays into the elements. My duster... never even noticed. But I Noticed.

Her face. It was devoid of makeup... and shone the brighter for it. Beauty Burned through the fog and mist and vain attempts at rain... I basked in the Power that vibrated from her... and let it wash over me. Around me. Through me.

Past me.

I opened my eyes... amazed that I'd forgotten that I'd closed them.

She smiled at me. Innocent. Questioning. Timid. It was her... when she didn't have to be Corp. When she wasn't just what everyone saw.

We walked. I did not touch her. Wanted to... but found that resisting... was easier than Thought. She wanted company... not affection. Same as I needed someone. Maybe not someone I Trusted... but... an ear.

We talked about ourselves without mentioning names or details. Stupid really, but it helped. Neither of us wanted anything more... than someone to Listen.

I'd learned that lesson from Morgana. I chuckled at something Angie said, the Memory bolstering my confidence. I don't remember how I asked... only that Angie smiled warmly as she accepted.

* * * *

I let my eyes wander around my apartment... looking for what I Knew would not be there. A flick of the switch, and the near empty livingroom was bathed in a dim yellow light. I chuckled, watching the frown play across her ghostly lit features.

"I live in my room," I said, making my way, still clad in my duster, to the bedroom.

That's when I saw the look. Apparently she'd pictured my room... and had come fairly close. I offered her a chair, which she took with a movement that was anything but Corp. She was totally relaxed as she flung her coat onto the archaic coat stand next to the door. I smiled as she crossed her legs casually... then checked her motion. Too late, but I let the slight impropriety slide.

We watched a movie. I was impressed when she took the offered joint.

"Rare pleasure," she sighed as the smoke from her first hit slid expertly over her upper lip... and into her nostrils.

"Damn that's sexy," I chuckled. It made her laugh... then lapse into a coughing fit.

Somewhen, during our Session, I found myself holding her. Horny... but I wasn't all that into the Horizontal Shuffle. At that Moment... I was holding a Woman in my arms. A rare pleasure indeed.

* * * *

That's how we fell asleep.

No... I do not Love her.

But I Love being able to hold a Woman in my arms at night. There is something... mystical... about that One Moment.

Maybe it's me.

Maybe that's why I find my Awareness so bothersome.

In that Moment... when I hold a Woman in my arms. Someone I care for...

Everything else... is Nothing. I don't Notice anything but the Moment. I don't Feel anything but that Moment.

Some would call this passion.

Not me... for there is no heat. Warmth and Cool. A Warm Soul... a Cool Moment. No worries. Nothing to inflame the Senses...

That's why I let my hands wander over her body. Aside from the feel of her flesh... there is something soothing to the way her body responds. The way I can feel her pulse through the breaths she takes. The faint changes in her scent as she drifts through dreams and nightmares and worse.

That's why the Beast growls... and I feel its power in my chest. It Scents her Comfort... in arms that have crushed the life from all manner of creatures... and a few humans as well.

That is why I find it easy to dismiss it. The Moment...

I pull her close... and Feel the Ache. That empty place... where Morgana still Burns within me. I smile... and let it pass. For I Have the Foundation.

And... that's enough.

* * * *

Epilogue:

I don't know who she is... but I can tell he Loves her truly. Only now... he's finally beginning to let go. Truly let go. I know how it feels.

Part of me wants him to stop touching me. Stop pleasing me so completely. It struggles... but there is no fire to it. I let my body enjoy the feel of knowing, caring hands. I can feel my nostrils flare every time his fingers glide over my thighs. I want him to turn me over and... take me. Not fuck or frag or rape... take me. The sex... the actual licking and sucking... they don't matter.

I Know I will Know True Pleasure at his hands...

But not now. She is still too close to him. He would not tarnish her... or me. I Know this. Believe it. The words were his... but they had this... power... to them. Honesty I guess.

Which explains why I didn't resist sleep when it claimed me. Nor his tender caresses.

And why I shed a single tear. He may never Understand... but I

do

have a clue about how hard it is to let go.

And start again.

Third : Catalyst

It's annoying how he moves so quietly. He doesn't mean to; it's Natural to him. Sometimes the only way I know he's there is when he mumbles something.

His voice... carries. No matter where I am I can feel the bass in his tone, though his voice is not overly deep.

Commanding.

THAT'S

the word.

* * * *

It had been one of

THOSE

days. Too many stupid mistakes... being tended to by clueless ditbrains with their own idiot agendas. Too many temptations... too much anger. All of it misplaced... naturally. Worse... it lasted for four fraggin' days. Doubles.

The day I got done, I went out and got trashed. Puerto Rican Gingerales... and a LIIT tossed into the mix for good measure. True... I could banish the haze in an instant...

but I wanted to be Human again. Just for a second.

As I'm walking to my apartment door I Sense Angie inside... and immediately the Beast makes its presence Known. The Hunger fills me.

And for the life of me... I simply stood back and watched. Watched as I opened the door, my form draped in Shadow. She never heard the maglock disengage. The door sweep across the carpet... and click shut with a deafening silence.

Instead... she went about washing the dishes. Oblivious to the Form that stood in the livingroom, quietly sniffing the air. Each piece of information I took away as soon as it graced my Mind. Why? Instinct. Duty. The words are countless... and useless. The form moved with purpose, shedding the fabric... but not the Shadows. It placed the clothes in a pile on the bed. The head turned slightly. Angie was moving... I was thinking. Planning. The Shadows grew as this happened.