Intrusion

"So, this is my room..." Marcus knew that he was babbling as he led Georgina into his place at the Hall of Residence, but this was such an unusual experience for him that he didn't quite know how to handle it.

"We didn't come here to talk about your room," the spiky-haired brunette told him, firmly shutting the door behind him, and then pushing him up against the wall.

They kissed, passionately this time, Georgina's tongue twining up against his, her body pressed tight against him. This was moving so fast... they'd barely known each for more than an hour, and for much of that he'd been focussed on someone else. How far did she really want to go tonight? All the signals were suggesting that she was happy to go all the way, but that seemed so unlikely this soon that he still couldn't quite believe it.

This sort of thing didn't happen to him. Attractive young women did not throw themselves at him on a first date! It was almost as if this unexpected desire of his had come out of nowhere. Sure, he'd thought she was pretty from the moment that they met, and, once they'd really got talking, he found that he liked her a lot, and not just for her body. Although, having said that, his own body had reacted to her presence in a way that... well, that she was surely well aware of by this point, given how closely she was pressed against him.

He awkwardly put his hands around her, experimentally putting a hand on her bum to see how she would react. Even given how she was kissing him right now, and how her hands were rubbing his back through his shirt, he didn't want to get in trouble by going further than she wanted on a first date. That sort of thing could get you in deep trouble, even aside from the fact that he liked her too much to want to ruin his chances.

"Jesus!" said Georgina, pulling away from him, and causing Marcus to suddenly release her in alarm. "You really are tense, aren't you?"

"It's just... this is kind of sudden..."

"Take it as a compliment. I don't go throwing myself at every guy I meet, you know. In fact, this is kind of a first," she paused, and put her hands on his shoulders, looking seriously into his eyes, "but if you're not interested, just say."

"Oh, I'm interested," he said, with some feeling.

"Good." She snuggled up against him again, and they kissed, more slowly this time.

Marcus still wasn't sure where to put his hands, although he was acutely aware of the shape of her small breasts pressed up against his chest, only a few layers of clothing between them.

"Hmm..." mused Georgina, pulling away just a little bit this time, "I think I know how to relax you. Go sit over on the bed."

He did so, watching as she pulled off her leather jacket and hung it over the back of the chair sitting in front of his desk. She actually glanced briefly at the papers lying on top of it, partially propped up by copies of Fundamentals of Statistical Signal Processing and Observational Astrophysics. Given that most of what he'd written yesterday was in mathematical notation, he suspected that even that cursory glance would be enough to solidify his reputation as 'uber science geek' in her mind.

Which, he reflected, as she sashayed towards him, that charming smile on her face, evidently didn't worry her in the slightest. And, to be honest, it wasn't as if radio astronomy was uppermost in his mind at the moment, anyway.

"Now..." said Georgina, moving forward to the edge of the bed and leaning over him for a soft kiss, "let's see what we've got here..."

Her right hand moved to his crotch, and deftly unzipped his flies, popped open the button above them, and pulled down his boxers. If Marcus had been wondering before whether or not he was misinterpreting her signals, he had to admit that he was finding it difficult to come up with an alternative explanation for that one.

Georgina looked down, and licked her lips as she trailed two fingers along the length of his rock hard shaft. Marcus watched her silently, enjoying the soft feel of her touch. Then Georgina knelt down on the floor, using both hands to pull his jeans and underclothes down so that she could gently cup his balls.

"Relax..." she whispered, leaning in towards him.

Oh my God, she wasn't going to...?

One hand on his balls, the other behind his shaft, Georgina slowly licked him, the tip of her tongue running up his length inch by inch. All the time, her eyes were on his, watching his reaction. Those eyes, that beautiful face, were even more his focus of attention now than what her tongue was doing, even as she flicked it against his sensitive tip.

And then those soft, kissable lips, that framed such a lovely smile when she wanted them to, closed about the head of his cock, as Georgina bent down over him.

Marcus let out an involuntary groan of delight. He didn't have anyone in his past to compare her to, but nonetheless, Georgina was good, everything he'd ever fantasised about. Her tongue caressed his shaft, lips gently sucking against him as she stroked his balls. Sometimes she slid up, so that only his head was inside her mouth, lips pressed against his glans, and at others she pushed herself down, taking most of his length inside, the tip deep inside her moist warmth.

The blissful delight continued, and Marcus gazed down at his partner's face, whispering her name as he lost himself in her eyes, running his fingers through her spiky hair, almost unable to believe that this was really happening. Had they both been consumed by some unaccountable desire? If so, he hoped it wouldn't wear off in the morning, because he didn't want this to be their last time together.

As he watched, Georgina moved her free hand down to the hem of her tight, dark trousers. The edge of the bed blocked Marcus's view, but he heard the sound of her loosening them, and then a rustle as, he assumed, she slid her hand into her knickers, pleasing herself while she continued to please him.

"Hey," he said, finally regaining the power of speech, "just so you know... oh... ah..." he gulped, before managing to finish his thought, "I'm more than happy to return the favour."

Georgina slowly let his cock pop free from her mouth, and stared up at him, a delighted smile on her face. He'd do anything for that smile.

"You wanna sixty-nine?" she asked, eyes sparkling.

"I'd love it."

"Wow, that was said with conviction! You're on, lover boy!"

The young film student stood up, pulling off her top, then grappling with her trainers so that she could remove her trousers. She was slim, almost skinny, her skin pale and clearly unused to much in the way of sunlight. He noticed a tattoo of bluebells on her left calf, the shade of the flowers matching the dyed highlights in her hair. She clearly liked blue, then.

Marcus hurriedly removed his own clothes, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt in his excitement, and in his desire not to take his eyes off his partner as she continued undressing. Her bra came next, revealing slight, smooth mounds tipped with pert rosy nipples, their colour surprisingly distinct against the pallor of her skin.

Georgina knelt on the bed, now clad only in a pair of black knickers, already partly off one hip, her eyes wide with anticipation as Marcus pushed his clothes away and lay back, gazing up at her. That ravishing smile was still there, and doing at least as much for him as the sight of her body.

"I've always wanted to try this," she confessed, climbing properly onto the bed now, and slipping off her last remaining item of clothing, "I can't believe I didn't have to be the one to suggest it. Right on, Marcus!"

That was putting pressure on him that he really didn't want. It had been a spur of the moment suggestion; he'd never actually gone down on a woman before. Of course, nobody had ever gone down on him before, either, and there was no doubt that he wanted to make her feel just like he had... he only hoped he would come up to her expectations.

Georgina was manoeuvring herself round on the bed, knees either side of his chest, head facing towards his feet. Her pale buttocks were in front of him, another tattoo, this time of a butterfly, revealing itself just above the top of the crease. One with blue wings, of course.

He glanced down as Georgina leant forward onto her elbows, face just above his cock. Her breasts hung down, looking larger than before, under the influence of gravity. And those lovely pink nipples of hers looked positively swollen as they dipped towards his abdomen. Okay, he had better make this good, for her.

The blackness of her bush was in stark contrast to her skin as she lowered herself down. Marcus gazed between her thighs -- he could see little else from his position -- finding her lips moist, engorged, and slightly flushed with red. Tentatively, he ran his tongue down their length, and Georgina shivered in response, letting out a quiet "oooh..." of pleasure as she did so.

Emboldened, he gave her another lick, firmer this time, and she whispered his name, stroking his cock with one hand as she wriggled her body against his, nipples hard against his belly. So far, so good, he thought, and pressed his tongue deeper, sucking on her lightly with his mouth. Her slender hips bucked against his face, pushing him further inside as he tasted her wetness.

Georgina's mouth closed around his cock, pulling him further in than she had before, lips reaching the top of his balls. It felt magnificent; she tasted magnificent. As he began to experimentally move his tongue around inside her folds, he only hoped that she was enjoying at much as he was. Judging from the muffled sounds coming from down below, she certainly was.

Dammit... now where was her clit? He should be finding that, right? It had to be round about... what if he sucked just there...?

"Oh, fuck yes!" cried Georgina, letting his cock slip free from her mouth again, "right there, right there!" Her thighs were trembling, body quivering against his. A moment later, she was sucking on him again, tongue moving with increased enthusiasm, and, he thought, desperation.

Marcus held one hand on her bum, holding him against him as her hips bucked and her legs squirmed, her hands tightly clenching the bedsheets. He moved his other hand down her flank, over her ribs, feeling her chest move as she took deeper breaths accompanied by muffled whimpers of delight. He reached her breast, cupping it, feeling the swollen nipple between his fingers, rubbing it as he felt his own excitement mount even further.

He couldn't hold out for much longer, although judging from her reaction, neither could she. He wondered if he should say something, but he didn't want to stop what he was doing to her increasingly damp slit, even for a second. Knowing exactly what she liked now, as his own hips began to grind into her face, he focussed all his attention on teasing Georgina's clit.

His hips bucked upwards again, and she was right there for him, receiving him, sucking and licking for all she was worth. Marcus let out a groan as he finally found release, his cock jerking again and again as he came into the welcoming warmth.

And something indefinable rushed into him. Something from outside, not dampening the pleasure, but overwhelming him the split second that it was over. Controlling him, pushing down his thoughts as it subverted his neural circuitry, pouring from one host into another.

So Marcus was only dimly aware, in the back of his mind, at a mere subconscious level, of Georgina pushing herself up on her arms, grinding herself down onto his mouth and riding him hard for a few seconds before she climaxed, noisily and ecstatically, against him.

***

"Dr Ramprakash?"

"Yes, that's right, like the cricketer. But call me 'Nalini'," she replied as they shook hands.

"I'm Damien Harrington, neurology registrar. I'm afraid the consultant isn't here at the moment. I gather you wanted an update on the patient that was brought in from Medway yesterday?"

They moved into a side-room for some privacy. Nalini suspected from his age, that Damien must be nearing the end of his training, possibly even in the final year. He was several inches taller than her, although that wasn't particularly difficult, with blond hair, blue eyes, and an earnest-looking demeanour. Neurologists, she reflected, tended to be a little obsessive and academic, even by the standards of doctors.

"So, how is our patient?" she asked, as he shut the door behind them.

"Recovering, I'm glad to say. Although it's slow, and we can't say whether it's going to last, or if there might be a relapse. But his symptoms are lessening, and there are longer gaps between the bouts of hyper-stimulation and depression. He's still in intensive care, though, and likely to stay there for a while as we continue to manage his symptoms. Have you got any more information on what caused this? He's not in a fit state to talk yet."

"We suspect that there may have been an exposure to some kind of toxin, but that's all we know."

"Yes, I saw that in the notes. We ran a tox screen, but it came back negative. And the symptoms don't match any form of poisoning that I'm aware of."

"It's just a theory. It might be something else entirely. Right now, I suspect that we know less than you do. It's why we moved him here." They were, after all, in the best neurological hospital in the country... if they couldn't treat the victim of this alien incursion, then nobody could.

"Hmm..." said Damien, thoughtfully. "Actually, if you don't mind me asking, Nalini... what is your connection with the patient? That's not very clear from the notes."

"The local hospital called me in. I help to keep a track of unusual cases, in case of any wider safety concerns."

Which was, at least, broadly true. If Damien, or anyone else at the hospital, tried to run a check, it would come back to Public Health England, although that was really just a contact address, and any truly determined digging would reveal her employment at the MoD... and then hit the wall of the Official Secrets Act. Which would probably look suspicious, but wasn't going to give away her real function.

"That sounds rather vague."

Nalini shrugged, not wanting to get too far into that discussion, and instead changed the subject. "This may sound an odd question," she said, "but is there anything connected with sexual arousal in his symptoms, or that showed up in your diagnostic tests?"

Damien shifted, giving her an odd look. "That is an unusual question," he agreed, "is there..." he was evidently about to press her further on her reasons for asking, but apparently changed his mind. "It doesn't matter," he said instead, "the answer is 'no' anyway. At least, not directly. His brain scans show a lot of random activity, like a seizure, but more localised than anyone here has ever seen before. So, yes, I suppose brain centres relevant to sexual arousal would be involved, but so is almost everything else, at some point or another. And, yes, autonomic stimulation would be affecting that too... but, again, just along with a host of other symptoms."

"So nothing that stands out in that regard?"

"I can't say that there is."

"If you had to give your best guess, what would you say is actually happening? Never mind the 'why' for the moment, just the 'what'?"

Damien leaned back against the wall, his expression still curious, but evidently giving the question some thought. Whatever was going on was likely so far out of any human experience that he was as likely to be helpful as the consultant would have been, and perhaps less constrained by what he already knew from past patients and case studies.

"This is probably going to sound strange..." he said after a while.

"I like 'strange'," said Nalini, leaning forward, an encouraging expression on her face.

"Well, it's as if... it's almost as if something is purposely switching on and off different parts of his brain and autonomic nervous system. Like turning a dial on an old-fashioned radio... it looks as if there's almost a pattern in there, but never one that takes hold."

"You said 'purposely'."

"Figure of speech. I don't mean it literally," he gave a sort of half-laugh, knowing that what he had said was ridiculous.

"No," she agreed, "of course not."

She wasn't sure that she sounded very convincing.

***

"Hey." Rebecca looked up to see Kate stepping into the room, "I brought you a cup of tea. Is it okay if I bring it in here...?"

"Sure, I was just finishing up for the moment anyway. Let me wash my hands, though, and don't bring it over to the bench."

She was working in the section's small laboratory, analysing the strange substance she had sampled the previous day. The facilities here at headquarters were rather pitiful compared with what they had at Porton Down, but at least here she didn't have to wait for the report. And what was the point of being a Scientific Advisor if you didn't occasionally get to do at least a little bit of science?

Kate, she noted, had taken their advice and not dressed in uniform today. Instead, she was wearing a light-coloured shirt with dark grey trousers, business-like attire that would blend in with the London crowds. Which, to be fair, was probably more than could be said for Rebecca's own jeans and 'Trust Me, I'm A Scientist' T-shirt, especially considering that they were currently in Whitehall.

"How's everything going upstairs?" she asked, peeling off the nitrile gloves and heading to the sink.

"Brendan and Richard are still looking for our missing witnesses... or whatever they are. They haven't been home, and haven't taken their cars, either. So they could be anywhere, doing anything."

"How about our American guest?"

"Curtis? Apart from being excited to find the local branch of Costa Coffee, I think he's mostly just getting Helen's back up. The Americans clearly have a bigger budget than we do for this sort of work, and I don't think he likes the way we do things. Helen's got Brendan to stop making digs, though, which is a start. I'm not sure what the CIA expects him to do here, though, and I don't think he does, either."

"Just sticking their nose in, probably; Helen's likely right on that one. Thanks for the tea," she added, coming over and picking up the cup.

"Probably. How about you? Found out anything about that green slime from yesterday?"

"I can tell you that it's a mixture of lipids and glycoproteins, but I'll need the full report from Porton Down to get the real breakdown. Under the microscope, it contains some sort of fibrous network, although that's starting to degrade now. And vesicles of some sort floating about, too, which are where most of the colour comes from. It's really difficult to say what it is, but I'm definitely thinking organic. It's not, you know, lubricant or something like that; it's complex stuff."

"Any other effects...?" asked Kate cautiously. Rebecca knew what she meant.

"No, that's stopped. I'm pretty sure it was this doing it, though, not the sphere we found it in. I think the effect was already fading last night, and it had completely gone by morning."

"And no sign of what sort of... thing... was in it before the sphere opened up?"

"You know..." Rebecca paused, putting the cup down as she stared into the middle distance for a while before replying, "I don't think there was anything."

Kate frowned, "what do you mean? Somebody lobbed a blob of goo at us from orbit?"

"Something like that, yes... I think... I think this stuff was alive. And it isn't now. The green vesicles contain some sort of copper pigment, maybe an analogue of our haemoglobin."

"Copper-based blood? And what about the fibres?"

"Copper-based blood is blue on Earth," Kate raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt, "but still, I think so. It's one of the things I'll need a detailed analysis for. As for the fibres, they could be structural, or any of a host of other things. But the point is, I think this is all there was in the sphere. Some kind of organic, living material. That's why there weren't any footprints around it, this... I don't know... gelatinous matrix, whatever it is, is the living thing. It is the alien, if you like."