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Midnight Ch. 01

By: ms72vt



Author's Note: This is a relatively short introductory chapter to an ongoing story line I would like to write. There is no sex in this chapter--that will come later.:) The purpose of this chapter is to introduce you to the main characters, and hopefully pique your interest. Feedback and comments are very welcome! Please let me know if you'd like to read more about Midnight . . .

*

She heard the screaming in the alley . . . just in time. She was about to head back to her apartment, strip off her costume, and take a long, hot bubble bath. She hadn't expected to encounter any problems tonight—she envisioned just taking a quick, easy swing around town to get in a good workout, keep her timing sharp. It had been quiet lately, crime was down in the city. With a certain sense of pride, she liked to think she had played a part in that.

She hurled the grappling hook toward the ledge of the office building across the street. It gripped tightly, just as she knew it would. Once she had trained long enough, hard enough, once she deemed herself ready, she was determined never to miss. And she hadn't. 

Leaping off the rooftop of the old paper mill, Midnight swung across the street, a lithe form in the glow of the streetlights. If there had been passersby, they would have witnessed a world-class acrobat, a fearless athlete, at the peak of her abilities. 

But there was no one. Just the blacktop, still wet from the evening's passing shower, the blinking yellow traffic light, the dark store fronts in this old, crumbling, seedy section of the city. 

She landed perfectly, exhibiting the perfect combination of balance and strength. But she didn't have time admire her skills. The screaming below was coming and going, coming and going. Angry men's voices kept saying, "Shut up! Shut up, you bitch, or we'll fuckin' kill you!"

From here, it was a ten-foot leap to the sidewalk. No problem. Midnight had jumped from structures two times that height. She didn't hesitate. She jumped, and in one motion, hit the ground running—toward the alley, toward the crime being committed. The screaming had stopped, but she still heard the men talking, swearing, laughing.

She arrived at the mouth of the alley. A dim lamp attached to the side of a building gave off just enough light for her to see. Two men, big, burly, were assaulting a woman. One of the men was behind her, his hand covering her mouth, the other arm pinning her against him. The woman was struggling, but obviously wasn't strong enough. The guy's pants were down, and even from twenty feet away, she could see his erection.

The other guy was on his hands and knees, his mouth covering the woman's privates. His hands were extended up to her breast, which were freed, her top and bra tossed to the side. The site made Midnight want to vomit. Vermin like those men deserved to be punished, tortured, even. Nothing she could do to them under the law was severe enough. 

She raced toward them. It was the woman who saw her first. Her eyes bulged, and there was a pleading in them, an alarm call for help. 

The guy pinning the woman saw her, too. He scowled.

"Hey, what the fuck?" he said.

The other guy, the one who was feasting on the woman's pussy, turned around. Midnight didn't hesitate. She kicked him in the face. The feel of her boot-heel meeting his nose was satisfying, especially the resounding crack that told her his nose was broken. Blood gushed forth, spilling onto the potholed pavement. 

"Fuck, you broke my nose, you fucking bitch," he said, and rose to his feet. By now the other guy had tossed the woman aside, and faced Midnight. Two against one. She liked those odds.

She eyed her opponents, waiting for them to make the first move, to telegraph their punch, their intention. She figured the one with the broken nose would try something first. He wanted revenge.

And he did. He picked up a jagged piece of glass, the remnants of a beer bottle someone must have tossed into the alley that morning or the night before, or the night before that. He charged her, aiming the jagged glass at her face. It was child's play to sidestep his clumsy attack, stick her foot out, and trip him. He landed with a thud on the pavement, and dropped his weapon.

"I've read a lot about you," the other guy said. Midnight noticed that the woman had put on her bra and top, pulled up her pants. But she was glued to the spot. Midnight didn't like that. She should be running away! One of these bastards might grab her again, use her as a human shield. She needed to deliver the knockout blow quickly, before they had the chance to try anything like that.

"You must think you're one tough broad," the guy said. The other one, the one with the broken nose, was just getting back on his feet. "What the fuck you think this is, bitch? A fucking comic book? I mean, look at you! Fucking wearing a mask and a skin-tight body suit. Nice tits, though, baby. Maybe I'll let you live long enough for me and my buddy to fuck you. You owe him one, after bustin' up his nose."

The woman let out a squeal, and Midnight shouted at her, "Get out of here! Run away, now!"

But the woman stayed put. She was riveted. Damn.

The guy who still had a nose in one piece lunged at her, throwing a haymaker. She ducked underneath and kicked him in the balls, all in one fluid motion. He collapsed in a heap, his hands cupping his groin. 

"Ahhh," he croaked. "Fuck."

The other guy charged her again. She jumped into the air and kicked him in the nose again, before he could react. He dropped immediately, and she approached him.

"No," he said, holding out a shaking hand. "No more."

She grabbed his hair—greasy, sickening to the touch—and yanked him up. She didn't like the fact that the woman was still hanging around. But since she was, and since these guys had had the fight knocked out of them . . .

She led him to the woman, who still had those deer-in-the-headlight eyes. 

"Apologize to this lady," Midnight instructed.

The guy said nothing, and she elbowed him in the ribs. He screamed. 

"You want another one, buddy? Next time it'll be somewhere more sensitive."

"No more," he pleaded. The front of his shirt was soaked in his own blood, which still streamed out from his mangled nose.

"You have three seconds," she said.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry," the guy said. "Good," Midnight said. "Now go fuck a cockroach!" She threw him down, and he collided with the brick wall of the building behind him. 

The other guy still held his balls in his hands, but she wasn't through with him, either. She pulled him up by the shoulders—he had no hair—and led him to the woman.

"You tell this lady you're sorry, scumbag, you got it?" 

"You must be fucking dynamite under the sheets," the perv said, and she greeted that remark with a forearm to his face. He toppled over, but she didn't let him stay there. She yanked him back up again.

"You got two seconds, you worthless piece of shit. Now you tell her you're sorry."

He did, and she tossed him aside like a sack of garbage. 

"You want to press charges?" she asked the woman. 

The woman shook her head, apparently just wanting to forget about this, put it all behind her. Midnight understood, but seethed. That was the trouble. Bastards like these two guys too often got away free. But then, that's why she was here. That's why she had finally launched her crime-fighting career six months ago. To deal with the scumbuckets who managed to escape the law.

"C'mon, then," Midnight said. "You need to get out of here."

They walked out of the alley, turned the corner onto the deserted street. It was brighter out here, and Midnight got a better look at the woman. She was pretty, blonde hair, frail, petite build. And young. Probably no more than twenty-one.

"You live close by?" she asked her.

The woman nodded.

"I'll walk you home," Midnight said. "It's the least I can do. What's your name?"

"Zoe."

"I guess you know I'm Midnight," she said. "Sorry we met under these circumstances. Forgive me for being so blunt, but those two bastards didn't actually . . .?" She couldn't bring herself to mouth the words.

"No," Zoe said. "No, you got there before they had a chance to . . ."

Well, thank God for that small favor, at least.

"Are you going to be okay, Zoe? If you need someone to talk to . . ."

The woman shook her head, offered a sorry excuse of a smile. "I'll be okay."

Would she? Midnight wondered. This young woman appeared frayed at the edges, and not just because of what had happened tonight. She needed someone in her life, someone to trust, someone to be a friend. This was the hardest part. Meeting the lost and lonely ones, the ones she could only help in a superficial way. 

They arrived at a tenement building, the façade worn and smeared with graffiti. The woman turned to enter the building.

"Thank you," she said. "You probably saved my life tonight."

Midnight smiled. "You just make sure you're okay, you hear? And if you change your mind about needing someone to talk to . . . just go to the police, okay? They'll let me know."

"Okay," Zoe said. But Midnight knew she's never hear from her again. She didn't hear from any of them again. "Thanks."

"Take care, Zoe."

She looked at herself in the mirror. The black costume, hugging her substantial curves, showing off her tall, athletic figure, the long legs, the graceful form. The mask, which covered the top half of her face, down to the bridge of her nose, was also black—midnight black. In the back, her light brown hair was wrapped into a pony tail. She had considered making her mask more substantial, covering her mouth and hair—but the thought of that was claustrophobic. The half-mask was sufficient—no one would recognize her, figure out that she was really Jennifer Hutchins, studious technical writer who worked at a software company on the east side of town. Still looking in the mirror, Midnight unfastened the mask, pulled it off. 

"Hello, Jen," she said to her reflection. She always felt weird talking to herself, but it was a habit she had started as a little girl, and had never gotten over. Besides, sometimes she wondered who she really was anymore. Jennifer Hutchins, girl next door? Or Midnight, the after-dark crusader whose mission was to protect the weak, to fight on behalf of those who couldn't fight for themselves?

She undid the pony tail, and her long hair, freed, billowed out behind her, cascading over her shoulders like river water, cool and brown in the woodland shadows. She examined her face, the first faint hints of creases forming on her forehead, the smile lines around her mouth perhaps a bit more pronounced than in years past.

"Welcome to your thirties, kid," she said to herself. She had just turned thirty last week, and there had been a big party with family and friends. She appreciated it, surely, but at the same time, was thirty really something to celebrate? She felt like her life was frittering away, like sand in an hourglass. She lived alone, had no boyfriend. She didn't like to admit needing a guy in her life. She felt like she should be above that. But she wasn't. When she went to bed every night, alone, she thought about what it would be like to have someone beside her, touching her, holding her . . .

"Oh, get off it," she snapped. "You're acting like an idiot. You don't have time for a relationship, and you know it."

That was definitely true. Not to mention the fact that she now had a new secret identity to protect. How could she allow anyone to get close to her? What would she do if she fell for a guy, but too often had to cancel their planned dates? Say she couldn't make it, that she had to change into her costume and go prowling around the city, looking for trouble? Yeah, that would go over well. And she couldn't risk having her identity revealed. As soon as someone she helped to put behind bars or someone she had beaten the crap out of learned who she was, she'd never be safe anymore. What's worse, her own family wouldn't be safe. They'd become targets. No. She couldn't allow herself to get in too deep with anyone.

But still. What about some old-fashioned, casual sex? She did have needs. Maybe a FWB was what she needed. Hell, even a one-night stand. . .

She remembered what Janice, her friend at work, had said last week, about a Web site she had discovered. Janice was as sex-starved as any woman she knew, so she had brushed the suggestion off. But maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. Janice had said you could create an anonymous profile with a screen name of your choosing, and that it was free to join.

"Oh, come on, a sex site?" Jennifer asked the mirror. She had by now stripped out of her costume, and was looking at her naked body. She had to admit, she was in great shape. Years of martial arts and acrobatic training and athletics had sculpted her. And now, beginning her crimefighting career, she had whipped herself into the best shape of her life. 

"Not bad for thirty," she said, with a smile. She was glad, too, that, even though she was toned and had six-pack abs, she had been able to maintain her feminine softness. Her ass was curvy and tight, her breasts high and ample. She wore a 34C bra. 

She prepared her bubble bath, and luxuriated for over an hour, enjoying the warm water, feeling the stress drain out of her body. As she sat there, she found, with some surprise, that her fingers had worked their way to her pussy, and she was pleasuring herself. She rubbed her clit, her fully shaved mound, stuck her fingers inside her vagina.

"Mmmmm," she purred. That sex site was sounding better and better. It had been years since she'd been with a guy.

"Why am I so horny tonight?" she said to the empty bathroom. She didn't get it. She had just roughed up some would-be rapists a little while ago, for crying out loud. How could she be thinking of sex at a time like this? Need, she supposed. She just had a need. She couldn't deny it. And now that she was thirty, she was feeling more horny than ever. She had always heard that women reach their sexual peak in their thirties and forties. Maybe that was true.

After towling off and throwing on a bathrobe, she went to her PC, flicked it on. The first thing she did was check her e-mail. One from Mom, rambling about the sewing club she was in and gossiping about the other ladies. One from her younger brother, Richard, who lived across the country, on the West Coast, and who rarely contacted her, or anyone, for that matter. E-mails from him were treasures. He wrote that he was doing well, and that the California weather wasn't up to snuff lately. Only 75 degrees yesterday with a bit of a chilly breeze. Yeah, real funny, Richard. Ha ha. He knew damn well that she was stranded here in the Northeast, and that it was October. Last night there had been a frost warning. Tonight was overcast and warmer, but soon enough there would be snow in the forecast. 

Other than that, there was the usual assortment of junk mail, which she deleted without reading.

Then she logged on to the Web, and visited the sex site Janice had told her about. On the Sign Up page, a twentysomething in a blue lace bra smiled at her.

"Charming," she said, and then felt a warm, furry body rub up against her shin.

"Hey, Mitsie, did you finally wake yourself up to greet your mama?" Mitsie purred as she pet the cat behind her ears. She'd had Mitsie for five years now. She discovered her on her front steps one morning, and took her in. She'd had no collar, no tags of any kind. She was skeletal at the time—a skin-and-bones gray and white tabby. Now she was full and healthy, and totally spoiled.

"Now don't watch what I'm doing, okay? I'm being kind of naughty here." But Mitsie, oblivious, plopped onto the floor, cuddling up with Jen's foot.

She needed to create a user name. Hmm. Something sexy but not trashy, not desperate. Callmecallme6969, she chose. She giggled, keying that in. 

Then she created her password, and pressed Enter. She now needed to fill out her profile. God, what was she getting herself into? Well, she wouldn't put a lot of effort into this. She was just doing it for the hell of it. 

Under the Describe Yourself section, she wrote, "Single, sexy, and wanting to have some fun. Think you can keep up with me? Tell me about it." There, simple, and to the point.

Under the "Ideal Person," who-she-was-looking-for section, she wrote, "Be single, I'm not going to help you cheat. Be under forty and over twenty-one. Be in shape, and be ready to have some NSA fun." There. That would do. 

She filled in the rest of the profile, and then noticed the Upload Photo button. Uh oh. Should she? Well, why not? A couple of body shots wouldn't hurt anything. Besides, this felt kind of sexy.

She grabbed her cell phone, removed her robe, and snapped a handful of pictures. Three of her chest, one of her butt, and one of her shaved mound. God, she felt like a slut. But they were just body parts. It's not like anyone would know it was her pussy. No one would see her face. And why shouldn't she show off her body, anyway? She had worked so hard on herself, dedicated herself more thoroughly than most professional athletes, she was certain. Why not have guys drool over her?

She uploaded the photos, and voila! Her profile was up and running. The site told her it might take up to twenty-four hours to approve it, though, so she logged off and decided to go to bed. It was Friday night, so she didn't need to get up early tomorrow, but she was exhausted. She could use a good night's sleep.

When she drifted off a few minutes later, she wondered if her profile would get approved overnight, and if she'd have any messages waiting for her in the morning. . . .

♣

Julian P. Covington logged into his account to see if he had any mail. He didn't. Damn. He'd sent out a dozen messages yesterday, too, and even tried to personalize them, based on what the profiles actually said. Women. Tough to figure out sometimes. 

Not that his experience on the site had been all bad. He'd joined three months ago, and had met five women for sex. Most of them weren't very good—fatter than they had let on, or older, or uglier. But one woman was pretty good. She orgasmed three times with him, and said she definitely wanted to see him again. He'd e-mailed her a bunch of times since then, and nothing. Nada. Maybe her husband had found out. Oh well. She wasn't the only one out there. 

He clicked on his New Matches icon, and scrolled through the candidates. Most looked like spambots—he had an eye for the fakes. The others didn't look too inspiring, for one reason or another. He was about to close out when he spotted someone intriguing.

Callmecallme6969. He chuckled. Cute. Real cute. And her display photo showed off an awesome rack to boot. He clicked on her, and her full profile opened up.

He went through her pics. She was a hard body, all right, assuming the pics were real. He sensed that they were. They didn't have that studio feel to them. Looked like pics snapped from a phone. Hmm . . . great ass. Damn sexy! Thirty years old, single, looking for NSA fun. Hell yeah! That's what he was talking about!

He clicked on the Send Me an Email link, and began to craft his message. He wished he could send along a face pic, but he didn't dare. He was a reporter for the Herald, and a high-profile one at that. Half the city knew his name, and his face. He couldn't just send his picture out indiscriminately. But he was sure to include a healthy dose of dick shots on his profile. He was proud of his dick. Eight solid inches of throbbing man-meat. What wasn't to like?

As he wrote his message to CallmeCallme6969, his mind wandered . . . Sexy as she was, she wasn't the woman he desperately wanted to meet. No, that would be Midnight. Ever since she had donned her form-hugging Spandex costume and embarked on her vigilante style of justice, he had been trying to figure out who she was. He'd written editorials about her, arguing that the city had a right to know her identity. It was dangerous having an anonymous citizen taking the law into her own hands.


Midnight Ch. 01



Please note: There is no sex in this story for the first few chapters. - Virtual Atheist

MIDNIGHT

A Tale of Misfits, Colour, Education and Science

PROLOGUE

Hiya, I'm Usiku Wa Manane. Manni to my friends. Well, what's to say? I'm a less than typical Yorkshire lass with a less than typical life. It's basically been a journey from a slut to a princess and back to slut again.

There's more to it that that, obviously. After all nobody can describe themselves in a single word.

I've been a swot, a slut, a nigger (not too keen on that one), a barmaid, an executive assistant, a princess, a wife, a mother, a doctor and a slut... Yes, I know I said slut twice.

I'm highly intelligent. That's not a boast, merely a statement of truth and I'm incredibly well organised, with a love of learning. These things play a huge part in the way things panned out, so please understand that I'm really not trying to blow my own trumpet, it's all part of the rich tapestry that I call my life.

Sound interesting? Maybe you'd like to hear about it. I hope so, otherwise my time here on the patio with my laptop and a flask of strong coffee is a bit of a waste.

Anyway, here goes...

CHAPTER ONE

Where to begin? At the beginning I suppose.

My parents came over from Kenya as a young couple looking to improve their lives. They could have tried to emigrate to America. Maybe if they had, I'd have been a Valley Girl or living next door to Disney World in Florida. But nooooo, they had to move to freezing, fucking Yorkshire!

Not only that, but they moved to Kingston Upon Hull, a proper shit hole of a place. If the planet needed an enema, then Hull is where the tube would go. Now there are cities in the north of England with a large ethnic population, but at the time, Hull wasn't one of them. So my parents stood out, to say the least.

My parents, Siwatu and Chiku Mwenye both managed to find work rapidly, at the time it was easy to get a job, if it was one that not many people really wanted to do. Dad got a job on the docks and mum ended up on the production line of a factory across the road from it that produced aerosol paint sprays.

They were hard working people and although they started their married life in this country in a tiny council flat on the Bransholme estate, a place where the council normally put 'challenging families' if you know what I mean, they scrimped and saved and got the deposit together for a small, two up-­two down in a little side street, just off Newlands Avenue, near the University on Cottingham Road.

Yes, I know that's a rather select area of Hull now, but it wasn't at the time. It was a different world back then. I'll give you an example; Because there were very few black people in Hull at the time, my parents were known locally as the nignogs at number seventeen. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't racist ­ Well I suppose it was ­ But there was no hatred, no rancour. It was just descriptive, like 'the fat bastard who ran the chip shop' or 'the gaylord with the antique shop'. I know it wouldn't happen now, that innocent, casual bigotry... Like I said, it was a different world. The racism I faced later on had a much sharper edge to it.

Anyway, into their little lives came me. Born on the stroke of midnight between 28 and 29 February. The midwife asked my parents if they wanted the time 'adjusted' so I was born on a particular day rather than in between as it were.

Dad wanted to change the time to 00:01 29 February, his reasoning being that it would save a fortune on birthday presents. He was joking, or at least he always maintained that he was.

Apparently mum went fucking ballistic. Hardly surprising I suppose, after thirteen hours of labour and a rather difficult delivery, she had a bit of a sense of humour failure.

Dad bore the brunt, but he managed in his own way to calm her down, what with his easy smile and his cheerful, disarming manner. It helped that he loved her to distraction, and she knew it! I know for a fact they fancied the pants off each other too! I've lost count of the number of times that I was kept awake, by the banging of a headboard against the shared wall, and the shouting and wailing of two people going at it like the World's about to end.

But anyway, that was Dad all over, even at the most emotional of times, he was always ready with a bad joke. At least back then he was... And that's how I prefer to remember him.

Actually, it was how I got my name.

Although it sounds like it should be, Usiku Wa Manane isn't a traditional African name. It's Swahili and it means 'Midnight'. Dad thought it was appropriate and Mum just liked the sound of it.

Don't for one second think that you can call me Midnight though!

Jimmy Parker in primary school found that out the hard way, but he was just the first of a few... Arseholes... Who thought my name and my skin tone were some sort of a joke. It didn't take long for me to stop volunteering the meaning of my name unless somebody asked, and people rarely did.

If that made it sound like I was some sort of deadly street fighter, it wasn't supposed to. What I meant was that I could have a bit of a temper, but normally restricted myself to shouty words. If it came to a proper punch up, I had maybe one good slap in me, but after that I'd be in trouble.

Fortunately for me, I wasn't in many arguments that got physical.

I was only ever called Usiku Wa Manane by my Mum, and only when I was in the shit.

One... And only one person calls me Midnight, and that person isn't you!

My childhood was normal I suppose. I had my circle of friends from starting at infants school, most of whom stayed in my life up to secondary school (that's high school for our colonial cousins), and apart from the occasional altercation about my name that was it.

Well, not quite. The thing is, I'm top heavy if you know what I mean. I hit puberty and my bosoms grew and grew... And grew... And then just to go from the sublime to the ridiculous, grew some more. By the time I was sixteen, when they eventually stopped expanding I reached 44G. My figure was curvy, I was never a slimline gazelle, and finally stabilised at 44GG­30­38.

Sound sexy? Yeah, but not from where I was standing. Look, I was fully grown, 5'8" thanks to my Swahili heritage, but even on my tall frame, my tits looked like a dead heat in a Zeppelin race! Back ache, ill fitting bras, never able to find trendy clothes to wear without spilling out all over the place... And the comments from dirty old men. Honestly! It didn't take long for that shit to get old.

I also hated my hair. I was determined to change it to the 'natural' Caucasian style, A bit like Beyonce's hair... Only I did it first, she pinched the idea from me. Okay, I suppose Diana Ross beat both of us to have it 'natural', or was it Aretha Franklin? Oh fuck it! Who cares? Anyway, it was my idea to dye it.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

So there I was fully feminine with dyed, straight, blondish hair with red highlights, that I liked to wear in a ponytail for everyday. Chocolate brown eyes, and skin the colour of my name. My complexion could only be described as glossy. At night, you could see me a mile away. Not joking, black skin shines at night, did you know that?

S'true.

That's why black soldiers (contrary to the old wives tales) have to use camouflage cream, just like white soldiers do. Although I couldn't see it myself, my African features were regarded as quite pretty. Not beautiful, but pretty.

I know, I know. Easy to blow my own trumpet, but like I said I always thought I just looked ordinary. It was my girlfriends who told me I was pretty, and more than a few of the boys... Although I suspect they had ulterior motives for buttering me up, but more on that later.

Anyway, like I said, I had a normal childhood, Barbie dolls, boys were smelly until I was thirteen and then they were more interesting, make up, fashion and giggling with my friends about how Marlene Moore had been caught being very naughty with Dave Wilkes and wasn't allowed out for a fortnight.

All in all, I just had a very normal childhood. I never rebelled against my parents, they never beat or starved me. In fact the only time I was in real trouble was when Mum caught me smoking when I was fourteen, "Just you wait until your Father gets home!" she shouted, dragging me by the ponytail from Sally's garden shed back up the street to my house.

I was mortified. Not only because all of my friends saw the whole embarrassing episode, but also because I was certain Dad was gonna kill me. I mean, I thought he was going to stand me in the street and run me over with his car or maybe, beat me to death with a claw hammer.

He didn't, obviously. What he did was sigh deeply and give me a look of disappointment. One that broke my heart worse than any beating ever could. Then he forced me to smoke a whole pack of Capstan's full strength, unfiltered cigarettes... And then clean the vomit up when I got to number eleven. And yes, he did make me finish the pack, afterwards!

I never smoked again!

In fact, I can't stand to be around people who are smoking. The smell makes me feel sick to this day.

I always did well at school, not just because I was intelligent and I worked hard, but also because, like I told you, I love learning new things, always have, always will. I had a Saturday job at a local cafe, just across the road from the main entrance to the University. When the going was slow I'd often find myself leaning on the counter and staring out of the window at the students going in and out of those hallowed halls of learning. It was my dream to go there after my A Levels to study either history or archaeology, I hadn't decided yet.

My social life was hectic too, but I was always able to manage. You see I learned very early to organise my time effectively, I never set out to do it, it just worked out that way. Good genes I suppose, that and the work ethic that my parents instilled in me.

I passed my O Levels at sixteen and went on to the Sixth Form to study for my A Levels. The plan being to get good passes and hopefully go on to university.

So there I was, just turned seventeen, halfway through my A Levels... And my whole world fell apart.

I was in double History when Mr Willis, the Headmaster came in and pulled me out of the class. I knew from his sombre expression that something was wrong.

"What is it? What's happened?" I asked.

"Miss Mwenye, I have some bad news for you..."

I was starting to panic, "What?"

"There's been a fire at the factory where your mum works."

I started to cry, "Is she okay?"

He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before saying as gently as he could, "I'm sorry Manni... She's dead."

I almost collapsed. I don't remember much about what happened in the next few hours. I know I was screaming and sobbing. I know the pain and grief were overwhelming and I know that Miss Weatherall, one of the PT teachers took me home in the school minibus and waited there with me until my Dad could come home.

It took some time as Dad had been taken from the docks to the hospital, he had the job of identifying the body.

When he did get home, I could tell that he had been crying too, but was trying his best to stay strong for me. Miss Weatherall gave us both a hug and told us both not to hesitate to ask if we needed anything. Then she left us in our grief.

I don't like thinking about this part of my life. Mum's funeral wasn't the only one I had to attend.

Sally Thomsett, a friend who had started at the factory when she left school at sixteen, died in hospital a few days later. They told us that she had suffered awful injuries and that her jeans had actually melted to her legs.

The papers reported that nine people died in the fire, and that Mum had indeed not suffered. An electrical fault had caused a spark that ignited some spilled chemicals in the aerosol store. Mum had entered the store with a pallet transporter just as the cans exploded. That is at least one small mercy. She was dead before she even knew there was a problem... Didn't make it any easier on me and Dad though.

After the funeral, I spent the next few months in a daze. Shame really, if I'd been more together I might have noticed... I might have been able to help Dad. I still blame myself. In my heart of hearts, I know I'm not responsible, but I still carry a lot of guilt.

I never saw him smile again, not the easy, beaming grin that he wore most of the time before the accident. Oh he smiled at times, but it wasn't the same, it would be just a sad, half smile that never reached his eyes.

He started drinking too. Something he'd never done before.

I found myself taking on more and more household duties as well as juggling schoolwork, my part time job at the cafe and my social life, such as it was by that point. Not only that, but our finances began to suffer as well.

Dad started to drop into the pub on the way home from work every day, drinking all his pay and more and more often failing to give me enough to buy groceries. It lead to some massive arguments I can tell you.

We couldn't afford to pay the electricity so it was cut off, then the gas went. We would have lost the water as well, if it wasn't against the law for them to stop our water supply, but they sent us many, many shitty letters.

I must admit, one of the lowest points was when I went to my money box to get a few bob for some milk and found it empty. Dad had taken every last penny I owned so he could nip to the Spotted Dog and get drunk... Again. I started hiding my money after that.

Can you imagine that? Having to hide your money from your own father so you knew you'd be able to eat for the week.

Something had to give, and sadly it was my schoolwork. My grades suffered and I simply couldn't afford to stay in school, so I asked at the cafe if I could work full time.

I took myself to bed and cried my eyes out. The door had just been slammed in my face. I wasn't going to pass my A Levels and I wasn't going to University. All my hopes, all my dreams were crushed and I knew I would never escape from this shit hole of a city.

When Dad fell in through the front door that night, I went absolutely ballistic at him. I mean I went for the fucking jugular! Although I may as well have not bothered, he was so pissed up he could barely understand a word I said. I rarely spoke to him after that, he stopped speaking to me all together. The best response I could ever hope for was an unintelligible grunt in response to any question.

It made no difference. He continued drinking, lost his job because he was found to be drunk at work whilst he was driving the container lifter. So he went on the dole and got a cheque every two weeks... That he immediately went out and drank.

It was killing me to see this once happy, vibrant, hard working man change before my eyes into a shambling wreck. He never washed or changed his clothes. I stopped going into his bedroom to try and keep it as clean as I kept the rest of the house. The smell in there was sickening, the best I could do was push the door slightly open and spray air freshener inside to try and stop the stench from seeping out on to the landing.

I honestly thought my life couldn't get any worse. I was wrong, not only could it get worse... It did.

We started getting red letters from the mortgage company. Dad hadn't paid it in months. At first they were antsy, but now they were getting serious.

I'll never forget the knock on the door that afternoon. I'd just got home from work and started running a bath for a nice long soak as my back and my feet were killing me. I was shocked to see two very large men at the door. They had a piece of paper that stated the house was being repossessed. I was going to be thrown out of the only home I'd ever known.

But that wasn't the worst, they were also there to empty the house of furniture to cover several other household bills that hadn't been paid.

I had to stand and watch as every stick of furniture was removed. One of the men supervised me as I filled two small suitcases with clothing and escorted me from the house before they secured it with new locks. Several curtains twitched and more than a few of the neighbours came out to openly gawk.

I was burning with shame.

The humiliation of standing there in the street seeing the expressions on faces ranging from pity, to the outright glee of a small bloke who lived three doors down, who had never made a secret of the fact that he hated us.

Yep! Being made homeless was my eighteenth birthday present. That's right, in less than a year, my life was destroyed.

All I could do was sit on the kerb with my head in my hands and listen to one of the bailliffs advise me that if I needed money, there were always spots available in front of the railway station in the city centre... That was where the cheap prostitutes plied their trade.

I must admit the other bloke was a bit nicer. He offered me a card with some numbers for the housing department of the local council.

Eventually, I made my way over to the council offices, stopping off at the Spotted Dog to properly tear into Dad in front of all his alcoholic friends. I told him that I never wanted to see him again.

And I never did.

A few days later, he walked out of the pub, straight in front of a bus. To this day, I don't know if it was just because he was out of his tree on cheap whisky or if he did it on purpose. All I know is, I didn't mourn his passing. I was all cried out. I was numb.

Anyway, the housing clerk told me that my name had been added to the waiting list and as a single female, I was quite high up the list. She told me that if I wanted to increase my chances of getting something decent, I should nip out and get myself pregnant. I didn't tell her to go and fuck herself... Not quite.

For the next few weeks, I slept where I could, a few days on the couch of a friend here, a spare bedroom there, but more and more often I made myself as comfortable as I could in the small concrete yard at the back of the cafe. I had to be sure that I made myself scarce in the morning, before the cafe opened. I really didn't want my employers to know my predicament. I still had some pride after all.

I used to sneak into the gym at the University to use the showers. I had to keep myself clean somehow.

Eventually, the council placed me in a small flat in one of the high­rise blocks on the Orchard Park Estate at the north end of Hall Road. It was a complete dump. Cheap nylon carpets. No cooker, just a two ring electric hob in a small kitchenette. A tiny living room that lead on to a concrete balcony and a pokey little bedroom. I did at least have a bathroom again and the place was furnished... Massively cheap and shabby furniture, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

My main problem was, even this basic flat was beyond my means with just the cafe job. I needed to find something else to bulk my income up a bit. The rent and utilities would eat up my meager savings in just a few months.

Another problem was the estate itself. It was a slum and a dangerous place to live, especially for a girl on her own and it didn't help that I was black. I lost count of the number of times that the graffiti on my front door was added to. More often than not it was a variation on the theme of 'Niggers Out!' and I heard the cry of, "Fuck off, Nigger!" pretty much daily. After all, your average racist scumbag isn't really known for his imagination.

The lifts never worked, so I had to make my way to and from my seventh floor hovel down several unlit flights of steps that stank of piss, and had more than their share of used condoms and syringes scattered around.




Midnight Ch. 01



Once I was in my flat at the end of the working day, I never dared go out again until the morning.

It was bad enough in the daylight to be honest. I was regularly accosted in the street by the local skinheads that roamed the place like packs of wild dogs. I knew it was only a matter of time before I got my head kicked in, or worse.

Every day was the same routine:

1. Out of the flat.

2. Down the stairs.

3. March across the carpark to the bus stop.

4. Eyes straight ahead, no eye contact with anyone, don't give them the excuse to have a go. Speak to nobody.

5. Ignore any abuse.

6. Wait quietly for the bus, trying to make myself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

7. Work my shift.

8. Come home with exactly the same precautions.

9. Never ever leave my flat once I got home for the evening.

I wasn't living, I was merely existing and more than just a few times, I wondered why I bothered at all. Some evenings I would cry myself to sleep and wonder how my young life had come to this and wondered if it might be easier to just follow Dad under a bus.

I'd been there about four or five months when it happened. It was early evening, I got off the bus and was making my way across the litter strewn carpark when I was surrounded by five skinheads in their typical uniform; boots, white t­shirts and bleached jeans held up with red braces.

"What do you want?" I asked. I'll admit right now, I was shitting myself.

The leader, a skinny bastard with an acne scarred face snarled, "Hand over your cash, Nigger!"

"I haven't got any money," I quavered. Which was true. I rarely carried cash if I could avoid it.

He stormed forward and punched me in the face. I cried out and fell to the floor, the others swarmed forward and I knew I was going to get a kicking. I curled up into ball, sobbing with fear and pain, and tried to protect my head with my arms. I nearly wet myself, knowing that several people had died from the beatings they had received on this estate.

It was then I heard the most beautiful sound in the universe. It was a gravelly, menacing voice that simply asked, "You cunts are doing what exactly?"

The kicking never happened, I risked opening one eye and made out the figure of a giant of a man looming... And I do mean looming over the gang. All of whom seemed to have suddenly lost their bloodlust.

"I suggest you all fuck off now. The lady's my friend, and she's OUT OF FUCKING BOUNDS!"

The gang fucked off... And they fucked off rapidly, leaving me alone with the giant. He leaned down and looked at me with an expression of concern, "Are you okay?"

He reached out a hand the size of a leg of ham and helped me to my feet. I carefully touched my cheek, it felt hot and I knew it was going to bruise, but apart from that I was unharmed.

"I'm good, thank you."

It was then that I got my first proper look at him. He was a scary looking bloke. All of 6'10" and clearly muscular, I mean body builder muscular, if the sheer bulk was anything to go by. I'd estimate somewhere in his late twenties, he had a bald head, brown eyes and a nose that had clearly been broken many times. The sides of his wide head were decorated with cauliflower ears. I noticed as well that his right hand had HCFC tattooed on the knuckles, so he was a rugby fan... This was Hull, of course he fucking was!

The man was smartly dressed in a white collared shirt, black trousers and highly polished black shoes. Over the top he wore a black greatcoat that had some sort of ID badge in a clear plastic case on his left upper arm. I'll be honest, he wasn't pretty, he had a face only a mother could love, and then only with a few drinks inside her.

"I'm Alan... And you are?"

I was surprised at how quietly he spoke. Even though he had just saved me, I was still intimidated by his physical presence. It didn't help that I was still shaken by the attack, I answered meekly, "Manni."

He grinned, showing a gap where a front tooth was missing, "Pleased to meet you," he glanced

around and then said, "Come on, I'll see you to your door."

We made our way to my front door and he swore quietly when he saw the graffiti. I noticed that a badly drawn hangman now adorned the wall above the words 'kil da wogz', but after long months of this shit, I was inured to it.

He examined the graffiti and murmured to himself, "Whose fucking stupid idea was it to put a black face in Orchard Park... Fuck sake!"

I was puzzled, "Why did you help me? You could have got hurt."

He regarded me carefully and I watched as his eyes drifted into space. A troubled look washed over his features and I knew he was accessing a memory and not a very nice one. Presently his eyes refocused back on me and he answered, "I just don't like bullies... Anyway, I wasn't in danger. Not from those wankers!"

As I opened the door, I asked him if he wanted to come in for a coffee.

He barked a laugh and there was a twinkle in his eyes, "Subtle."

I stammered, "I wasn't... I mean... I didn't..."

He laughed again, "S'okay, I'm kidding."

I grinned back weakly, "I know, it's just... Look, you're the first person that's spoken to me in months outside work and I'm..." I broke down in tears, "I'm so fucking lonely!"

He wrapped me in a crushing bear hug and said, "Hey now, less of that."

Alan steered me into my flat and kicked the door closed behind him and just held me until I calmed down again. I should have felt embarrassed at my display, but strangely I didn't. To this day, I really couldn't tell you why, but we just clicked, it's as simple as that. Not in a sexy way. Looking back, I don't think we ever saw each other as potential bed mates, we were friends.

After I made a couple of mugs of coffee, we settled down on the sofa and just chatted. I found myself relaying my life story to him and in turn, he told me about his entirely normal upbringing with two loving parents. I found out he was an amateur rugby player and with his giant stature came a natural ability at dealing with violence. I also found out about his dream of starting his own security business and the fact that he loved Shakespeare, Dickens and Wordsworth.

One thing he did mention that caught my attention, was that as I was now eighteen, I could do bar work in the evenings and the nightclub where he worked security were always looking for staff.

"And I'll tell you what Manni, you especially, could earn some good tips."

I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, "Why'd you say that?"

He flushed slightly, "Well... Don't take this the wrong way, but you have two obvious qualifications that are always a hit with the drunk punters."

I looked down and light dawned on my marble head, "Ah. My chest mounted megapuppies with the plum coloured noses."

Alan grinned and then said, "I mean it. Wear something that shows off a bit of cleavage and trust me, it'll boost your pay no end," he gave me a serious look, "And in your current situation, every little helps."

Alan glanced at his watch and then stood up, "Sadly I've got to head off to work."

I thanked him again for his help and went on tiptoes. He brought his head down to let me plant a kiss on his cheek.

Before I closed the door, he turned round and said, "Think about it. You can definitely earn a few bob working the bar at Romeo's," he glanced around at the graffiti once again, "And don't worry, I'll pass the word that you're a mate of mine."

As I lay on my bed that night, I thought about what he had said and decided that maybe a second job for a couple of evenings a week couldn't hurt so I would definitely stop off at the nightclub tomorrow. I wasn't sure about what he meant by 'passing the word'. But for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

And that is how I met Alan Hardcastle, who is to this day my bestest buddy in all the world.

Anyway, after I finished at the cafe the following day, I made my way to the Romeo and Juliet Nightclub and rang the bell at the service entrance. A head popped out and said, "Yes?"

"Erm, hello. My name's Manni and I was wondering if there were any vacancies for bar staff going? Alan Hardcastle told me there might be."

The young woman opened the door fully and said, "Follow me."

She lead me to the manager's office where I met a middle aged bloke called George Radcliffe, the manager. He was a bit of a state if I'm honest. Mutton dressed as lamb if you know what I mean and a proper letch if ever I met one. More than once, I wanted to point to my face and say, "Oi, sunshine! Me eyes are up here!" but I didn't, I needed a job after all.

There were a few questions about serving experience and whether I knew how to work a till. My answers seemed to satisfy him so he nodded and then asked, "Okay. What nights do you want to work?"

"Thursday, Friday and Saturday please."

"Right, be here Thursday night at eight o'clock sharp and wear something to show your tits off."

I know, right? If only all interviews were that easy.

I must admit, I was more than a little bit nervous, my interview meant that I had to get a later bus back home and it was starting to get dark.

I stood at the bus stop and looked around at the car park that separated me from the safety of my flat. Unfortunately there were several small groups of youths dotted around the place, drinking and shouting. I steeled myself and made my way home, and was more than a little surprised to find that although I got some wicked stares, nobody made any move to interfere with me. I discovered that being Alan's friend had some real value to it.

So that was my work routine set for the next two years. Working four days a week in the cafe, including every other Saturday and then the busy nights behind the bar. Alan was right about the money, as well as the tips, we were also regularly told to get ourselves a drink when some punters got a round in. As we weren't allowed to drink on the job, we'd ring in a shot of vodka but annotate it on the touch screen as a staff drink, then the computer did some maths and we'd get an envelope every month with our pay packet and a cash amount to cover the 'drinks' we'd had.

I also discovered that low cut tops really did help. The more cleavage on display, the more pound coins disappeared into it. One night I found over twenty quid when I took my bra off for bed, and that extra money really helped. For one thing it meant I could start putting a little away every month for a rainy day and I could also start living again. I was far from wealthy, but I could at least now survive and also inject some much­needed fun back into my life.

At the end of every night, we'd all muck in to clean the place ready for the next day, and maybe get a portion of chips from the kitchen along with a soft drink. Then we'd sit around and chat until security had finished their sweep of the club and moved the drunks away from the front of the building.

Alan always gave me a lift back to Orchard Park in his car and we'd laugh and chat all the way there. We also enjoyed going out to one of the quieter pubs on our night off, usually once a fortnight, just to catch up and continue the giggles.

We tried a few, but settled on the Green Ginger Man. It was a quiet place and when you walked in the front door, it was like stepping back in time. A highly polished oak bar ran from one end of the bar room to the other with a few old fashioned hand pumps dotted along it. The furniture and decor seemed to be dated sometime in the 1930's, and there was a huge open fireplace set in the north wall.

Ernie and Mavis were a middle aged couple who owned and ran the place, and they too seemed to be stuck in the past. Mavis was always immaculately turned out, with a Beehive hairdo and a dress from House & Garden magazine 1963. Ernie usually wore one of those yucky, fawn coloured cardigans with chunky brown buttons.

The Green Ginger Man was always quiet, They always had music playing, but it was background music, never loud. You never needed to put your mouth next to someone's ear and shout to make yourself understood, like in most of the other pubs in the city centre. Another good thing about the place was the lack of trouble even though Ernie never had to subscribe to a security service. Most of his clientele were blokes who worked the doors around the city centre and more than a few off duty coppers. People who wanted to be able to go out, have a drink and a laugh with no drama.

Don't get me wrong, occasionally a troublemaker or two would find themselves in there, but due to the 'self policing policy' of Ernie and Mavis' customers... Well... The interruptions to the calm atmosphere were short and sweet.

I also discovered sex.

Some evenings I'd go out with one or two of the girls and paaaaarty! Get drunk... Well they did, I tended to (but not always) stick to pineapple juice, shout, dance and pick up some random hottie for a bit of casual sex, sometimes back at my flat or theirs, but sometimes in an alley over the bins. I know, classy huh?

I must admit I did actually get a reputation as a slut. I preferred to see it as having a healthy interest in sex, but to everyone else, I was a slut. Basically, I became the 'go to girl' for a blow job. Having massive tits helped when it came to being a hit with the blokes. If I had a penny for every time I've had some bloke's face between them motorboating, I'd be a millionaire!

A psychologist might say there was some deep seated reason why I went out for regular dose of strange, maybe it was daddy issues or looking for an affection surrogate. Dunno, all I know is, I liked getting fucked. Well not always, one bloke was so gifted I didn't stop eating my fish and chips all the way through his stellar performance.

Don't get me wrong though, easy I may have been, but stupid I most certainly was not! I had my golden rule, and that was, no party hat... No party. If the bloke refused to use a condom then he didn't get near me. I wouldn't even blow without one. Never had any complaints though.

The downside was that while I was getting plenty of humping, I never got invited back to meet Mother and rarely had a second 'date'. The only exception to that was Steve Metcalfe. He was a good looking bloke, a bit on the arrogant side. A bit of a Jack­the­Lad, know what I mean?

Oh we were never boyfriend/girlfriend, we just semi­regularly got together for sex... We were fuck buddies. Usually when he was between short term girlfriends. His idea of a date with me, was to go out drinking with the boys and then collect me later on, take me back to his place and fuck my brains out.

I'll be honest, I enjoyed it most of the time. I mean he had a huge cock. Massive! It was like being fucked with a steam powered Pringles tube. And he gave me good orgasms just about every time. But he was a selfish lover and when he got over excited he tended to be a bit rough.

I don't mean he intentionally hurt me, but when a cock like that is hammering into you, it hurts when it bashes up against your cervix.

Also, when I gave him a blowjob, he sometimes grabbed my head and tried to ram his meat right down my throat. And, just like all my other conquests, he never went down on me. I was expected to nosh him off, I was the 'BJ Go To Girl' after all. But it still galled me that nobody ever wanted to return the compliment.

But still, on the whole the pros outweighed the cons. Even though it was always on his terms. He would turn up when the pressure built and he needed relief. He was what you might call an Alpha Male, it was always all about him.

Anyway, that's enough about him for now.

The only real constant in my life was Alan, well that and spending my days off at the library, learning about local history and wandering the city matching up buildings and places with what I was teaching myself from the books.

Interesting stuff, history. Did you know that Hull started as a simple dock on the river Hull where it meets the River Humber in 1193? Or that we have the only public toilet that's a grade II listed building? We have the smallest street in the world as well, it's called the Land of Green Ginger.

See? Fascinating... Well I think it is, so bollocks to you!

I also started reading the classics. Normally one per fortnight, depending on time... And how difficult the book was. I mean, Moby Dick took fucking ages and is quite possibly the biggest load of shit I've ever read. Herman Melville was so far up his own pretentious arse, it's unreal. Silas Marner on the other hand... WOW! What a right riveting read!

Anyway, that was the pattern of my life for those few months; Work, Alan, party, fuck, learn.

One night, after a particularly giggly evening in the Green Ginger Man with Alan, we were heading back to the multi­storey and were just passing the Pink Poodle Parlour. That wasn't it's real name, It was actually called The Quadrant Club, but as it was the only gay bar in the city, it was known as the Pink Poodle Parlour.

What can I tell you? Northern humour is far from sophisticated.

Anyway, we were just past the Pink Poodle when we heard a slap, a scream and the sound of a body crashing into metal dustbins. We stopped and looked down the alley. In the gloom, we could see a tiny figure sprawled on the ground and six thugs stood around it. I heard one of them say, "Okay fag hag. Time you found out what real men can do."

Then a quiet, tearful woman's voice said, "Please. I haven't done anything to you."

One of the bastards took a run up and kicked her right in the guts.

It was at that point that I discovered how Alan had earned his reputation. He exploded into the alley straight towards them, I saw him glance down at the woman on the floor and shout, "You fucking cunts are in trouble now!"

Two of them raced at him, he simply reached out with his massive hands and smacked their heads together. They went down like the sacks of shit they were... Have you ever heard the sound of two heads colliding with vigour? It's unpleasant. They must have been from East Hull. Nobody in their right mind, who knew him would tangle with Alan, and everybody from Orchard Park down to the Marina knew my Alan.

It was the work of less than two minutes for Alan to deal with three more.

I know I'm making Alan sound like some kind of Ninja, destroying enemies with super speed, grace and skill. Trust me, that's not the case. What he had was a physical toughness that could soak up punishment and not let it stop him, a punch that could knock out a fucking buffalo and a ruthless kind of vicious!

His fighting style was effective, efficient and dirty... but not pretty.

That was the first time I ever saw him in action, and I'll be honest, I wasn't eager to ever see it again.

Anyway, the last one decided that he didn't want any part of the fight, so he dodged to the side and came barrelling towards me. Well not at me, but at the exit of the alley, I was just in his way.

I stepped to the side and then stuck my leg out. He tripped over it and sprawled onto the pavement, I think it winded him a bit and he was dazed when his forehead hit the flagstone, as he didn't move quickly to get up.

Big mistake!

You see, I was wearing my favourite heels that night, they had metal blakeys on the toe and heel... I love the clack clack sound when I walk in them. They're also good for hoofing bullies in the nuts. Which I did, several times and took the fight right out of him, and possibly the ability to procreate.

I don't know why I lost it like I did. Perhaps it was the fact that he thought six burly men against one tiny woman was a fair fight, or maybe I just needed an outlet for the anger that had been bottled up inside me for so long.

But I was kicking and kicking and fucking well kicking! I was calling him all kinds of a bastard as well.




Midnight Ch. 01



I wasn't going to stop.

Once I'd started, the red mist fell and I couldn't stop. It was only when a pair of giant arms lifted me up and away that I did.

It took me a second or two to calm down as Alan said, "Come on Manni, you don't want to kill him."

Anyway, me and Alan went back to see if their intended victim was okay, which apart from a bloodied and swollen lip and a somewhat painful midriff, she was. When we got her up and out into the street, I got my first proper look at her.

Just a smidge over 5 feet tall, petite, honey blonde hair and green eyes that I would happily kill for. She looked like a tiny angel. I'm no raging lezzie, I'm all about the cock. But she was so fucking gorgeous, if any woman could turn me to the Dyke Side, it would be her. She had delicate features that made her look like a china doll and even in her current state, she moved with the natural grace of a ballet dancer.

She told us her name was Erica, and it was obvious that she was very shaken up.

I asked, "Do you want us to call the police?" I glanced at the broken and in some cases unconscious scumbags strewn about the alley, "And maybe an ambulance."

She had a husky voice that sounded like it should have been promising all sort of naughtiness and what have you, on the end of a premium rate phone line, "No... No, I just want to go home."

She was on the verge of breaking down, that much was obvious, so Alan said, "Come on. We'll get you there."

As it turned out, she lived in the flat above her shop on the Parade not far from Orchard Park, so Alan dropped me off and then took Erica home.

The next time I dropped into the Green Ginger Man for my semi regular meet up with my BFF, I got myself a drink, then sat at 'our' table and waited. A few minutes later Alan wandered in and Erica was with him. He went to the bar for their drinks whilst she scanned the room, when she saw me, her face exploded into a thousand megawatt smile and she rushed over to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then she sat down and we talked whilst we waited for Alan to join us.

"I never got to thank you properly for saving me."

"Pfft! Don't look at me. Alan did the heavy lifting."

She reached out and rested her tiny hand on top of mine. Her nails were exquisitely decorated and very long, "Oh no," she said, "I saw what you did. You nearly gave that fucker three Adam's apples."

I giggled. It seemed strange to me that such a sophisticated and beautiful woman should speak in such terms, "Think nothing of it," I smiled.

Her expression turned serious and she said earnestly, "No. I refuse to think nothing of it. If you and Alan hadn't turned up, I don't know what would have happened to me... I really don't."

She fell silent and her expression became pensive, almost frightened. I must admit it embarrassed me a little so I tried to lighten the mood, "Well, we did. So no harm done."

Alan joined us at the table and slotted himself into the seat next to Erica, he put their drinks down and then allowed Erica to slip her tiny hand into his and I watched him give it a gentle squeeze. A look passed between them and for a split second I could see that they were the only people in the room. My eyes widened slightly and I put my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my hand, "Details. Now!" I barked.

They both regarded me with puzzlement.

"Okay," I said, "How long have you two been an item? Why isn't she wearing a ring? Have you even set the date yet? I'd better have an invitation to the wedding. How many kids are you having?"

Alan's mouth fell open and Erica merely giggled, "Not long. He hasn't asked me yet. I'm free next Thursday. Of course, you're my Maid of Honour. Enough to start our own rugby team... Next question."

I turned my attention to Alan and batted my eyelashes as I continued, "Does she make your heart skip a beat? Do you float in the air at the sound of her dulcet tones? Do you worship her during the dance of lurve?"

Then I turned back to Erica and my expression darkened, "And you! Are your intentions honourable? Are you gonna get him pregnant and then run off with the milkman? Are you aware that if you break his tender heart I shall hound you to the ends of the Earth?"

Alan laughed, "Oh fuck off Manni! We've only been together a week!"

That was the start of yet another fun evening, but it was even better, because now we had Erica to join the fun. I discovered that she ran her own lingerie shop, she was twenty nine, a couple of years older than Alan and she was a goldmine of pop culture references. The only downside was that she was a Trekkie. I of course made the appropriate gagging noises and then dubbed her to be a space cougar, and Alan her galactic boy toy.

Erica in turn vested me as the Official Gooseberry in the Order of the Third Wheel. And then we all got fucking smashed, I knocked back a fair few white wines, and a good night was had by all.

END OF CHAPTER ONE



Midnight Ch. 01



But she wasn't, not really. That was the thing. She had the full, if at times uneasy, cooperation of the police department, and what's more, she had publicly stated that she carried no gun, and did not intend to take anyone's life. She merely wanted to fight on behalf of the innocent. She would help to put criminals behind bars, to serve as an aide to the law. But she made it clear that she worked under the law . . . she was no rogue madwoman. 

Still, many people in the community were uncomfortable with the idea of a costumed night-fighter, swinging among the rooftops. Was this real life, or a Spider-Man comic book, one citizen was quoted as asking in one of Julian's op-ed pieces last July, when Midnight was still a novelty. Now, in mid-October, the city had become accustomed to her. While still a controversial figure, she had so far proven true to her pledge. She had not taken a life, and if anything, the city was safer than ever since she'd been on the loose. 

He had tried several times to get an interview with her, but she hadn't taken him up on the offer. Well, one day he'd find her out. He had sources, he had ways. 

And beyond her identity, she was just a great story. She made great copy. Who had ever heard of anything like this in real life? A sexy babe in a jumpsuit who prowled around town each night kicking ass? It was a gold mine for an editorial reporter like him—to the point that, if he did unearth her identity, he might be tempted to keep it to himself. After all, once she was discovered, her aura, her mystique, would evaporate. She'd still be a public figure, but the level of intrigue would no longer be there. It wasn't as if he needed to expose her identity anyway. That wasn't even important to him. He wanted to learn who she was for himself. It was a personal ambition. And mmm, think of the corner he would have her in. Imagine. The sexiest, most mysterious woman in the city would need to do anything he wanted for him to keep her secret safe. He got a hard-on just thinking of it.

But now, he needed to focus on the woman he was writing to. He doubted anything would come of this, he'd probably get no reply back, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. 

He wrote the following . . . 

"Hey, callmecallme6969, your pics are definitely sexy. You keep yourself in fantastic shape. And it looks like we're on the same page with what we're looking for. I can't send you a pic of my face, because I need to be discreet, but trust me, I'm no pug-ugly." (He wasn't, either. He had a rugged, strong jaw line, deep blue eyes, and black hair. Tall, dark, and handsome, that's how he liked to think of himself.) "I am up for meeting you for coffee sometime, and we can see how we click. If we click the way I think we will, we can then go back to my place. Or, hey, we can just talk. I'm in no hurry. Tell you the truth, I'm really looking for a regular FWB. I'm sick of the one-nighters, know what I mean? So if you want to have some sexy fun with someone on a regular basis, but without the hassles of being in a 'real' relationship, and without those damned strings, then I'm your guy!"

He went back, proofread his message (a habit he had formed after years of being a reporter), and clicked on Send.

"Well," he said. "Hope you write back, babe."

But even as he said this, his mind went back to Midnight. Damn, how he wanted to have her under his influence, controlled by his blackmail. It was hard getting fired up about the women on some Web site when he could one day have Midnight.

But he was horny. Before he could enjoy the main course, he at least needed to nibble on some hors-d' oeuvres.



Midnight Ch. 02



Jennifer Hutchins, aka the costumed crimefighter Midnight, aka CallmeCallme6969 on the swingers' site she had joined last night, logged onto her PC just after noon on Saturday. It was a gray, nondescript fall day, with leaden skies, a steady wind that rattled the eaves, and bare tree limbs reaching up, as if aiming to poke holes in the low-lying clouds. A lazy day, made for sleeping in, napping, curling up on the sofa with her cat, Mitsie, and popping in a DVD. 

But first she wanted to check her e-mail. She stretched her arms, yawned. She had only gotten out of bed a half hour ago—having slept the whole morning away. It was just what she needed, but she still was shaking off the cobwebs from her long night's sleep. She wasn't a coffee drinker, never had been. So it took her a while to become alert, get her faculties in full working order.

When she saw her inbox flooded with fifty-three messages, that did the trick! Her faculties whirred into overdrive. How could she have received fifty-three messages in just one night?

She scrolled through the e-mails. Nothing there at all except notice after notice from the sex site. One message informed her that her account had been approved. Duh! All of the other messages told her that someone had sent her a private message on the site. Good grief. Were her naked photos that much of a hit already? She felt a swell of pride—nice to know that the guys approved of what they saw. But still, the thought of logging into her account and reading over fifty e-mails from admirers felt a bit daunting.

She felt something soft and furry rub against her leg, and looked down. Mitsie. Sitting on the floor, staring up at her, eyeing her lap.

"Hey, girl," she said. "You want my lap? Well, what are you stalling for?"

Mitsie waited no longer. She sprang up, and landed perfectly, almost weightlessly, on Jen's lap. She admired the way her cat moved and leaped so gracefully. It was something for her to emulate, to strive to match herself.

Going through the fifty-odd messages was not as daunting as she at first feared it would be. The vast majority of the messages were one-liners, with subject headings like "Hot," "Baby, let's fuck 2nite," "Great rack," and "Hey, ur smokin'." And the accompanying text usually didn't have much else to say. "You want my cock up your fuckhole, don't you?" one message read, and the guy had attached three pics of his penis—two of it erect, one of it post-orgasm, shriveled up, the cum still fresh at the tip.

"Eww," she said, and clicked on the Delete button.

She had never seen so many dicks. One after another, after another—the sameness was deadening. She got to the point where she hardly even read the one-line messages anymore. She just deleted them.

But just when it seemed like there would be nothing to make her pause, just when she was about to close out of the site and likely never log in again, she spotted a message with more meat to it, and no cock pics attached.

She also thought the guy's user name was original . . . NotIronPyrite. Very interesting. Kind of egotistical, after a fashion—she supposed the guy was trying to say he wasn't Fool's Gold, but rather the real thing. Still, it was subtle, intelligent, showing a modicum of wit. Better than anything else she'd seen.

And his e-mail actually was composed of paragraphs instead of a single sentence. Reading through it, he sounded like a nice enough guy, though kind of conceited and presumptuous. But at least he was up front. She wondered about his unwillingness to send her a face pic, but she of all people understood the need to be discreet. 

She clicked on the link to view his complete profile, and sure enough, there were the dick shots. But at least he hadn't attached them in his e-mail, and she had to admit, his package looked nice. His dick was big, and he apparently was a meticulous manscaper. It looked like he shaved, fully, as opposed to just trimming. She liked that. It appealed to her sense of aesthetics.

One of the pics showed a part of his torso. Nothing to write home about, but at least he looked to be in passable shape—no beer belly. What he wrote in his profile mirrored what he'd written in his e-mail, with one exception. "I'm a nice guy, sane, I love ya, ladies. But in the bedroom, I like you to be submissive, and I like me to be dominant."

She giggled. Well, he had a fetish. She could live with that.

She clicked on the Reply button, wrote the following . . .

"Hi there. You sound nice, and I appreciate the whole paragraphs. You seem to be one of the few guys on this site who can compose more than two sentences! I'll be up front with you. I'm new here, and have never tried anything like this before. So let's start off slow, okay? Tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living? What do you like to do for fun? What are you into?"

She read it over, and it sounded lame to her. She sounded like a damn priss. This was a sex site, for God's sake! So she ended it with a little more flair. . .

"Hope to ttys! Like your pics, btw. Mmmmmmm. Nice.

Xoxoxoxoxo,

J"

Before she could think to delete that last part, she clicked on Send, and off her flirtatious post went into the virtual universe of cyberspace.

On her lap, Mitsie was giving herself a cat bath, right now nibbling on her paws. She stroked her back, and Mitsie looked up at her, annoyed, as if to say, "Hey, do you mind? I'm busy."

"Oh, Mitsie, Mitsie, what has your momma gotten herself into?" she said. But before she closed out of the site, she looked at NotIronPyrite's dick pics again. Without being fully aware of it, she licked her lips.

She closed out of the Web, shut down the PC, but was pinned to her seat. She hated to disrupt her cat's bath, so she sat there, swiveling her chair, turning toward the window. The maple tree in the front yard was stripped mostly bare now, the ground beneath it a carpet of fallen leaves. She'd need to rake those soon. But she quickly lifted her eyes from the ground to the tree itself. Something about it today . . . the lighting, the grayness, the mood. It brought her back, unasked for, uninvited. It caused her to look deep into the past, down the corridor of yesterdays, to that day, that terrible day, years ago . . . 

Mom, who was pregnant with Richard at the time, was spending the night at her sister's. So it was just Jen and Dad at home. She was six, a Daddy's girl. She'd been looking forward to this night alone with him for days. And now here they were, sipping hot cocoa, sitting side by side on the sofa, watching "It's a Wonderful Life." Dad said it was his favorite movie ever made, especially during the holiday season. Jen didn't much care for it—it seemed slow to her, and kind of corny—but she deferred to Dad. After all, she was just a kid. If Dad thought it was good, then it must be.

Outside, snow was falling. She had just got up a few minutes ago to look through the window, and the white, powdery flakes were illuminated under the streetlamp. She loved to watch it whirl and fall, like lighter-than-air popcorn. Christmas was five days away, and the snow served to ratchet up her excitement, which was already off the charts. 

She placed her head on Dad's shoulder, and he patted her hair.

"You tired, sweetheart?" he said.

"Nu-uh," she said, but yawned.

"Well, you can close your eyes, Jenny. I won't mind. I have Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed to keep me company."

She fought the tiredness. She didn't want to waste this special night with her dad by falling asleep. But then she felt his arm around her, so warm and comforting and restful. She snuggled up closer, and began to drift, drift, drift . . .

. . . until she was . . . 

. . . pushed, violently pushed away . . .

Was this a part of some dream? No. She shook her head. She was awake.

But Dad. Where was Dad? He—

"You got any money in here?" A young man's voice. And that's when any lingering tiredness left her as if chased away by a rattlesnake. Now she was alert, on edge, nerves tingling.

Two men wearing ski masks were pointing guns at Dad. At his head! And a third person, a woman, was standing in front of her, looking at her. She even smiled.

"Don't you worry," the woman said. She was also wearing a ski mask. "We don't want to hurt you, you're a cute girl. Just rob you blind, that's all." 

She saw them lead Dad out of the room, and she jumped up. But the woman corralled her and threw her back onto the couch.

"No, no," she said. "You stay here with me."

Jen couldn't speak, couldn't move. She just sat there, praying, praying, that Dad wouldn't be hurt. On the television screen, Jimmy Stewart stood on a bridge, contemplating suicide.

The woman pulled out a gun, aimed it at Jen's face.

"Hmm," she said. "Y'know, I could kill you. Should I? Or shouldn't I?" Something about her, the way she talked, didn't seem right. Jen didn't know or understand why—looking back, years later, she realized that the woman must have been high. 

The gun barrel stared at her, an unblinking black eyeball. 

"Tell you what," the young, masked woman said. "You move, even one eentsy, teentsy little muscle, and I'll kill you. How's that? Just blow that cute little head off."

From the other room, she heard someone getting punched. Then she heard it again. And again. And again. Dad? Was he getting the better of them? Had he forced them to drop their guns?

But then Dad came flying into the room, and he crashed into the wall, then landed on the floor in a heap. He was moaning, crying. His face was bloodied, and he was holding his left side. She had never seen her dad cry before, never seen him be anything but strong. He'd always been her rock.

The two young men walked into the room.

"Damn, you didn't push him hard enough," one of them said. "His brains didn't fall out of his head when he hit the wall."

"Well, I can fix that," the other one said, and without hesitating, he went to Dad and kicked him in the head."

"Daddy!" Jen screamed, and was about to jump off the couch when she heard a click. The woman. Cocking the gun.

"Don't do it, hun," she said. "Just sit tight."

Dad covered his head against the onslaught, but then the other guy began to kick his legs, his ribs, his back. Until all that remained was a writhing, crying mess. "Fucker said they only have a couple hundred bucks in the house," one of the guys said, and promptly kicked Dad again. This time Dad screamed. The cracking of his ribs was audible. Jen covered her eyes, no longer able to watch. She was crying now, feeling so helpless, so useless.

"Let's go," the other man said. "No use hanging around."

She took her hands away from her eyes, saw them head for the door. Then, at the last second, the woman pointed her gun at Dad, and fired.

Jen screamed. And when Mom came home later, and then the police, she was still screaming, the gun shot still reverberating within her skull. She was certain she'd never cease hearing the sound of it.

And she would never again watch "It's a Wonderful Life."

She realized that she was crying, one of her teardrops falling onto Mitsie's head. Mitsie didn't like that, and jumped off her lap.

"Oh, I'm sorry, girl," she said. "Just taking a trip down memory lane. Bad idea."

She closed her eyes, and in the darkness she saw the gun barrel pointing at her face, the empty blackness threatening to engulf her, snuff her out like a candle. And she again heard the echo of that one shot. Just one. But that was all it took. It had nailed Dad in the neck, and he was dead when she reached him.

From that day on, she hated guns. Would never pick one up, never touch one unless it was in the act of disarming an enemy. And she hated the way she had felt that night. Powerless, useless. Weak. Completely at the mercy of the attackers. She never wanted to be put in such a position again. She had spent the last twenty-five years of her life ensuring that she wasn't.

"I need some air," she said, and changed into a sweat suit. Yes, it was a day made for staying indoors, a day for curling up on the sofa, a day for watching reruns or listening to music. But she would spend the afternoon running. Maybe ten miles. Maybe fifteen. Maybe twenty. How long would it take to outrun her past, to race beyond the cold, endless echo of the gun blast that had taken her dad away from her twenty-four years earlier?

♣

Julian P. Covington closed his office door, ensuring his privacy so he could play. Why shouldn't he? Here he was, working on a Saturday. He always worked on weekends. It went with the territory, he supposed, of being a big-shot journalist at the Herald.

He'd already written a first draft for his op-ed piece that would appear in tomorrow's morning edition. It was a sharp, tautly crafted editorial, challenging Midnight to meet him and do an interview. Her fans (and, despite no lack of criticism directed her way, she also had legions of fans) were desperate to learn more about her. If she wouldn't reveal her secret identity, maybe she could at least tell the public a bit more about herself. What was she interested in, apart from kicking criminals' asses? What did she enjoy doing in her leisure time? Did she vote Republican or Democrat? Where was she born? Was she a native of the city? Hell, what was her favorite food? Why did she risk her life for the city—pure altruism, or some other motive? He ended the piece as follows . . .

"And so, Midnight, if you're reading this, why not come to the friendly offices of the Herald? We'll have cookies and drinks to serve. And you and I can talk. No pressure. No schemes. Just a simple Q & A session. I'll even send you the questions ahead of time, if you prefer. But you're too much of an icon to continually ignore the public's demand to know more about you. So, Midnight, the door of Julian P. Covington remains open. You just need to walk through."

He gave an approving nod. Good, tight copy. To the point. What the public wanted. 

He set it aside. The detailed nitpicky task of copy editing the piece could wait a while. He needed a break. And he knew where to get it.

Clicking on his Web browser shortcut, he accessed his account on the sex site he'd joined months ago. He knew he wasn't supposed to visit sites like this while on the job, but what the hell? He was Julian P. Covington! What would they do? Fire him? They wouldn't dare. Besides, he logged onto the site every day while at work. He'd been doing that for weeks, and no one had complained. He was sure they knew what he was doing. Big Brother always knew what Web sites you visited. But they also knew who buttered their bread, and as long as he got his editorials in on time, then who cared what sites he browsed, what women he solicited, or whether or not he jerked off at his desk? (And he did, usually at least three times a week.)

He had just one message waiting for him, but it was from the woman he'd e-mailed last night—CallmeCallme6969. Hmm. So she was intrigued with him. He snickered when she said she wanted to go slow. Yeah, slow. That just meant he'd be screwing her brains out after three hours instead of one. Once he turned on the charm, she'd be his.

He sent her a quick message, telling her he'd be happy to take it slow (he chuckled as he wrote this), and maybe they could meet tomorrow evening for dinner. He'd tell her all about himself then. And if she wasn't attracted to him when she saw him, she could walk. No hard feelings. They were two adults—no reason to play games and act like kids. 

He put the odds at 50/50 that he'd hear back from her. He just didn't feel up to exchanging endless e-mails. He'd gone down that road too many times with women who supposedly were interested in meeting up. Now it was put-up or shut-up time. If someone wanted to meet and have fun, great. If they were looking for a pen friend, they needed to look elsewhere.

He didn't have time for nonsense. He was a busy guy, in demand. And he didn't intend to make any more mistakes. The ones he'd already made were real prizewinners. 

He sat back in his chair, and a nagging, annoying voice from somewhere within his brain tried to tell him that he was aging, pushing forty, lonely. That he needed to find someone to settle down with, get close to, allow himself to be vulnerable. What, was he going to be a playboy forever? After a while, the casual sex began to feel empty and worthless, didn't it?

"Fuck off," he told his inner voice. "Just . . . fuck . . . off."

He had tried getting close to someone once, years ago. What good did it get him? A fucking broken heart, which was just lately in the last stages of mending itself. He had fallen in love, like a damn fool. And she hadn't felt the same way. He'd been so sure of everything, but when he got down on one knee, presented her with a ring, she had just bowed her head and shook it. She didn't say anything, didn't have to. From that day forth, he had made a vow. He would never let his guard down again, never let any woman snake her way into his heart. Sex, yes. He needed that. He needed to strap a woman in, tie her up, feel dominant over her. He needed to hear her whimper when he slapped her ass, and then orgasm when he continued his assault, when her ass cheeks turned red with his handprints, and her pussy juices flowed freely, streaming down her thighs like a lustful river. By the time he was through, she'd be begging for him to fuck her, and he would. Hard and powerful and fast. Nothing lingering, nothing romantic, nothing soft. Soft was for losers, for guys who didn't know any better. He'd never let a woman get to him again. Never allow a woman anything except to be under his control. If she didn't like it, she could take a fucking hike. He'd find another. . . .

"Mistakes," he said to the office walls, sparsely furnished. He liked his space to be clean and tidy and utilitarian. "Fucking mistakes." The falling in love wasn't the worst mistake he'd made. It had left its mark, but he was moving on now, he was in control now. But other mistakes were more permanent, more enduring. And more surprising. The kind of mistakes that popped out of thin air years after they happened, reintroduced themselves to you with a taunt and a sneer. Mistakes that you couldn't walk away from. But you could try.

And God knows he had tried.

The inner voice, the voice that too often wouldn't shut up, returned, again telling him he was a blind fool, that he had learned the wrong lessons. That he needed love just like anyone else.

"Bullshit," he said. "What a crock of steaming, reeking, putrifying bullshit. Love. Give me a fucking break."

He forced himself to think of CallmeCallme6969's body pics—the six-pack abs, the tight ass, the high, full breasts. Love. Who needed love when you could have fun with a body like that without the hassles and commitment? 

He picked up the printed copy of his first draft again, and began the second read-through, looking for minor things, now—a misplaced comma, a repetitious word—the nuts and bolts of the writer's trade, the minutiae that he disliked but knew he needed to do. 

"Damn you, Midnight," he said. "What can I do to get you to meet me?" 

He hoped this latest editorial would do the trick. She couldn't hide from the public forever. And when he finally got the chance to meet her, talk to her, he wouldn't fumble the ball. He'd ask just the right questions, study her every move, every gesture, every idiosyncrasy. He'd uncover, little by little, the secrets she was hiding. And then she'd be all his.

He smiled at that thought, feeling an erection coming on.

♣

Saturday night, and when most attractive thirtysomething singles would be out in bars, at restaurants or the theater, or meeting a lover for a night of fun, Jennifer Hutchins donned her Midnight costume and went out on the town for a night patrol. 




Midnight Ch. 02



Still no sex, sorry - VirtualAtheist

*****

Over the next couple of weeks, I saw Alan and Erica here and there. We met up for a coffee at Starbucks in the city centre and one evening, Erica and Alan had me over for dinner at her flat.

That was when I saw she had a complete DVD collection of Star Trek, The Original Series (digitally remastered), The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Voyager. She even had the complete collection of the animated series and all the films. I thought she was a fucking freak and told her so! She challenged me to a duel with Klingon Bat'leths.

What's saddest of all, is that she actually dug them out of her box room and showed them to me.

It was quite funny to see Alan and Erica together actually. They appeared to be joined at the hip, unless they were working, you never saw one without the other. It was hilarious to see them walking up the street holding hands, it was like watching Thumbelina with the Jolly Green Giant.

She also joined us for our usual get together at the Green Ginger Man. And it was then that I knew she was something special to Alan. I mean, in the time I'd known him, he hadn't been living like a monk. There had been more than one piece of arm candy hanging off him from time to time. But Erica was the only one who had ever been invited to 'our' time.

There was another thing that happened as a result of their relationship. Gina, one of the barmaids at Romeo's let me know that ­ as Erica was thought to have been a fag hag ­ Alan was now known as Big Gay Al... Not to his face though, at least not twice, obviously. Although the story grew over time. It was later said that Alan was to be feared because, not only would he beat you to a bloody pulp, he would also fuck you afterwards. When he heard that one, he laughed until he was crying.

That weekend, Alan didn't join us at the end of the night as usual, he simply signed off his hours and then went straight home. I had to get a taxi home and I was far from happy. And it was the same thing on all three nights.

Steve was there on Saturday night and for once his chat with the ladies didn't pay off, so I took him home, banged him senseless and threw him out on Sunday morning. I was limping all day and my pussy was on fire... Not in a good way. He had been particularly rough that night.

Anyway, when it was the evening for our usual get together, Alan turned up on his own at The Green Ginger Man and he looked, if not unhappy, then distracted.

I was a little concerned, "Where's Erica tonight? Are you two okay?"

He took a deep pull on his beer and answered, "We've got a bit of an issue at the moment."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"You gonna share it with me? Maybe I can help."

Alan rubbed his bald head and said, somewhat diffidently, "No... I can't."

That knocked me for six, "What? We share everything, Alan. What's so bad that you can't tell your bestest buddy?"

He growled, "You'd have to ask Erica that. It was her fucking secret!"

Alan refused to say any more, he simply stared at his pint in silence.

I was quite annoyed now, "Right! You've been in a mood since last Thursday. I'm fucked if I'm gonna spend my evening watching you sulk. I'm off!"

I stood up and marched out. Alan dashed after me and caught up outside, "Manni, I'm sorry... It's just Erica dropped a bombshell on me last week and I'm having a bit of difficulty getting my head round it. Come on. I'll give you a lift home."

Still annoyed, I replied, "No. You can drop me at Erica's. If you won't talk, maybe she will."

He sighed and then nodded, "Okay."

When he dropped me off at the Parade, he didn't even bid me goodbye, he simply drove away. I don't think he was being intentionally horrible, but something was definitely weighing on his mind.

I rang the bell to Erica's flat. After a few seconds, she opened the door and her appearance shocked me. She was wearing a white terry towelling robe and no make up. Her hair was a mess, tangled and knotted and her eyes were puffy and red from crying.

"Hello Erica, can I come in?"

Without a word, she pulled the door open wider and then walked back up the stairs to her flat. I followed her and went straight into the kitchen. I made her a mug of Lapsang Suchong with a twist of lemon and myself a milky coffee with three sugars. I took them back into her lounge where she was sprawled on the sofa staring at a small slip of card. Placing the drinks on her oak coffee table, I sat next to her and glanced at the card. It was one of those strip photographs that you get in a booth for passports and what have you. It was four pictures of her and Alan and they were laughing heartily in three of them. The last picture was of them kissing.

I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and said, "Okay. Talk to me."

She dragged her eyes from the photographs and looked at me, "I had a talk with Alan last week... I had something I needed him to know so that we could... could... be together," her eyes filled with tears and she sobbed, "And I've lost him. I think he hates me."

Erica threw her arms around my neck and sobbed into my shoulder. I didn't say anything, I just held her and stroked her back until she was able to regain control.

Eventually, she calmed down and pulled away, she wiped her eyes with a tissue and blew her nose, before taking a sip of her tea. Erica glanced at me and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sure you have better things to do that sit here with me."

I grinned at her, "My friends have a problem. What sort of a mate would I be if I didn't try to help?"

She smiled back sadly but didn't say anything.

I asked, "You wanna share? Maybe I can help."

Erica stared at me for a long moment. I could see that she was thinking hard. She took a deep breath and came to a decision, the she stood up and said, "Instead of telling you, let me show you."

Erica pulled her robe open, slipped it off her shoulders and threw it on to the sofa next to me, "Look at me," she said, her face glowing red with nerves and embarrassment, "And tell me what you see."

Even with her long, yellow hair in disarray and her face red and blotchy from tears, she was a vision. That's the only word for it. She was beautiful. Her skin was milky white and I couldn't see a blemish anywhere on her smooth skin. Her breasts were not small, but they weren't big either, I'd say she was 34B­24­32 and her legs were long for her diminutive height and nicely slim. Fuck me, but I was so jealous of those legs.

She was wearing lacy yellow bra and panties, they were thin and wispy and I could just make out the pale pink of her nipples. Erica had a flat stomach with just a subtle hint of six pack that was clearly the result of time spent exercising.

"Erica, you're like a little china doll. I can't see a thing wrong with you."

She said softly, "Look closer."

I shrugged and scratched my head, but then tried again. I studied her from the top of her head and worked my way slowly down her body and muttered to myself as I checked her over, "Face, lovely. Arms, toned. Hands, tiny... Love your nails, you gotta tell me where you get them done."

She grinned at that one.

I continued my inspection, "Boobs, just right for your size. Curves in all the right places and I am so jealous of your legs, I might just break them for you. I see you decorate your toenails too."

I shook my head slowly and my eye fell on the only place I hadn't really inspected. I took a closer look at her panties, they were just as sheer as her bra and if I screwed up my eyes I could make out just a hint of blonde landing strip.

And then I saw it.

The gusset area was opaque. She was wearing something underneath and there was a slight bulge.

She could see where I was looking and said quietly, "It's called a gaff or a cache­sex. You wear it inside your panties to keep things tucked away."

My eyes widened and my mouth fell open, "Erica... Are you... Are you a man?"

She answered sadly, "No, but I'm not a woman either."

"Transexual?"

Erica retrieved her robe and put it back on before sitting down next to me. She stared into space and then said, "Not a Transexual no. I'm a Hermaphrodite."

"What's that?"

"I've got both. I've got women's plumbing and men's as well."

Shocked, I remained silent and let her speak, "I was born with both sets of sexual organs. My childhood wasn't a happy time. My mum was happy to follow the doctor's advice and let me decide whether I wanted to be male or female when I was old enough to make my own decision."

She took another sip of her tea and continued, "But my Dad wasn't standing for that. He was desperate for a son and tried to force me to live as a boy. Football, dressing in male clothing, playing with boys toys and he wouldn't allow a doll in the house." 

Erica blinked back tears at the harsh memories, "It caused no end of arguments, I remember that. School wasn't easy either. I had a special dispensation so that I was excused games."

"Excused games?"

She nodded, "Yep. Couldn't have me using communal showers after sports. Actually I was quite pleased about that. You see, it didn't matter how much my Dad tried to force me into the male role, I knew... I knew from the age of seven years old that I wanted to be a girl... But there was no telling him. I went into therapy, I saw psychiatrists, psychologists and every other fucking 'ologist' you can think of... All of them agreed with me, I was meant to be female."

Her shoulders started shaking and I had difficulty understanding her words as her voice was thick with emotion. I gently stroked her back, "Come on," I said, "Let it out."

"But Dad just wouldn't listen. HE WOULDN'T FUCKING LISTEN! I lost count of the times that I've sat at the top of the stairs listening to my parents have knock down drag out fights for as long as I could remember. And I knew that almost all of them were about me. Do you have any idea how much guilt I carried? Knowing that the main cause of most of the fights throughout their marriage was me! And whether I was a boy or a girl."

Erica took a deep breath, gathered her thoughts and murmured, "It came to a head when I was twelve. I went to my Mum when Dad was at work and told her I wanted to live as a girl, I didn't feel like a boy and that I never had."

She held her hands up in front of her and lifted her legs so her feet were on the coffee table, "See? I have women's hands, women's ankles. I'm not like those Frankenstein monsters you see that look like a bloke with false tits in a dress."

"I think you have lovely hands."

"Anyway, Mum gave me a hug and brushed my hair back. I always wore it long even though Dad was always shouting at me to get a nice short back and sides. Then she bundled me out of the house and dragged me down to British Home Stores and took me straight to the girls clothing section. She told me that she'd had enough and if Dad didn't like it, he could go and fuck himself!"

Erica snorted back a laugh, "That shocked me more than anything. I'd never heard her swear before. Anyway, we spent two hours looking at clothing and trying things on. You have no idea how I felt, the first time I looked at myself in the changing room mirror in a summer dress. I was so happy I could have burst."

She took another sip and found her drink was cold. I told her to wait and nipped into the kitchen to get two glasses and a bottle of white from the fridge. Once I'd poured two healthy measures, I let her continue, "We got some funny looks I can tell you. Some woman coming in with an effeminate looking boy and trying on the girl's clothing. I'll always remember my Mum being taken to one side by a shop assistant and exchanging a few quiet words. The look on that woman's face was a picture. Then they both came back to me and the assistant asked me if I minded her joining us in the changing room. I said I didn't mind, so back she came. I slipped the dress off and she saw for herself that I was growing little buds on my chest. She said, 'I think you need a training bra'... I could have cried."

Erica placed her hands on her chest, "See these? They're real! I've never had a scalpel near them. Admittedly I had hormone injections to help, but these are home grown."

After a swift glug of wine, she continued with her story, "When we got home, Mum had me put on my new underwear and a yellow dress with puffed sleeves and a nice pair of sandals. She brushed my hair out and gave it a bit of styling with her curling tongs, she helped me with makeup. When I saw myself in the mirror I couldn't believe what I saw. I saw the girl I was always supposed to be. Mum was in tears and I'll never forget her words... She kissed me on the cheek, held me in her arms and told me that she'd be proud to call me her daughter."

Erica stared into space for a moment and then glanced at me with a half smile, "That was the first time in my life I was happy... Truly happy. The only thing was, we didn't know how my Dad would react. Mum told me to wait in the kitchen and let her talk to him... Prepare him before I came into the living room."

Her expression darkened, "I listened to Mum and Dad talking, I couldn't hear what they were saying at first, but I could hear their voices getting louder and louder until I heard Mum shout, 'She's supposed to be a girl and you are just going to have to fucking deal with it! Erica (the name on my birth certificate was Eric) come out here please.' I must admit, I was shitting myself, but I stepped into the living room to face my Dad. I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't think he would ever do what he did. He was furious and he slapped me so hard across the face that I fell down. He shouted that no son of his was going to be a 'mincing fucking gay boy!'"

Erica ran her fingers through her hair, "Mum went mad! She picked up the first thing that came to hand, which was a brass coal shovel from the fireplace and attacked Dad with it. She smacked the living shit out of him and she was screaming and screaming, 'I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! DON'T YOU EVER RAISE YOUR HAND TO MY DAUGHTER!' Then she threw him out. He stormed off upstairs, packed a suitcase and left. That was the last time I ever saw him."

"I was screaming too. I thought it was all my fault... I was sorry... I didn't mean to be bad. Mum just gathered me in her arms and held me..."

I watched as she sat staring at her glass, lost in her thoughts. I must admit I was misting up. I mean at least I was on the cusp of adulthood before my life went to rat shit. I took a sip of my wine and said, "If this is too difficult..."

Erica smiled sadly at me, "No, it's good. I've never told anyone about this before... I think it's helping to talk about it."

Another sip and she went on with her story, "Mum kept me off school for the next couple of days and went in to speak to the headmaster. Apparently they had a meeting and agreed that it would be best for me to attend a different school. She told me that he himself had no problem with me coming to school as a girl, but he thought it best that I went somewhere where they didn't know about my issues. Children can be fucking cruel... My words, not his."

Erica stared at nothing for a moment and then said, "Anyway, that's what happened. Mum even moved house so we lived in a new part of the city, where nobody knew me as a boy. The new school were made aware and yet again I was excused sports. It was okay I suppose, but I still couldn't fit in... Not quite. I mean I had my circle of friends, but I couldn't do what the other girls did. No boyfriends, no kissing and making out behind the bike sheds. It would only take one misplaced hand and my secret would be out. Once I was fully developed the surgery could start. My Adam's apple needed a minor readjustment to reduce it's prominence. I was lucky actually. That and the surgery I haven't had yet were the only ones I needed."

A single tear made its way down Erica's cheek, "I really should have been born a girl. Anyway, that was my childhood."

I massaged the back of her neck and said, "So how come you haven't had the surgery... Down there?"

"Because I was frightened. The surgeons have told me that it could be quite risky. My plumbing is quite complicated. I thought it best to have a good reason to have it done... You know I've never... Done anything... With a man. I always thought that nobody would want to be with me because I was such a freak! So I didn't go through with it. Never thought I'd have a good enough reason to take the risk."

Erica picked up the strip of photographs and stroked Alan's face with her thumb, "And then I met Alan. How does he do this to me? Three weeks I've known him. Three fucking weeks! I finally found someone to love and who loved me back. Yes, I fell in love with this big, ugly bastard in three short weeks. Didn't mean to... Didn't want to... But I did anyway. I finally found a reason to complete my surgery... And he never let me tell him. He just stormed out before I could explain."

She dropped the photographs back on the table, put her head in her hands and whimpered, "And now he won't talk to me. He hates me."

Well, what can I tell you? We finished the wine and started another bottle. I wasn't concerned, tomorrow was my day off from the cafe and Erica could open her shop late if she wanted, and we talked long into the night. About lots of things, she went into great detail about her condition.

Fucking complicated!

Did you know there are grades of Hermaphroditism?

S'true. Some are mostly male, some are mostly female and some are half and half. Erica was mostly female.

I was quite startled. But we also drifted off into other areas, you know, girl stuff. She put Titanic on to play on the DVD and we were gonna watch it, but as it turned out, it just became background noise while we chatted.

I asked her why she only ever went to the Pink Poodle before she knew us.

"I never felt safe going anywhere else. You know that's one of the things I love about Alan. I have been frightened my entire life, never felt safe, not really. And then I met you and Alan and I got two things. I got you... I got a friend. I've never had a friend before."

She reached out and placed her tiny hand on my shoulder, "Thank you for being my friend."

Well that set us both off. We cried, we hugged and we cried some more. After we calmed down and glugged some more of her wine, she said, "And then there was Alan. Apart from the love, you know what he gave me?"

"What?"

"When I'm with him I feel safe. I'm not scared... Of anything. Oh a little scared maybe, but only about my secret, about what would happen when I told him. But I wasn't frightened of the outside world. He has this way of making you feel... Protected, you know?"

I nodded, "I know exactly what you mean. Trust me on this."

Erica glanced at the clock and exclaimed, "Shit! Look at the time, it's nearly 1 AM! I'm not having you walking back to your flat on your own at this hour. Do you want to stay the night?"

I looked at the sofa, it was plush leather and I knew it wouldn't be too bad for sleeping on, "Sure, thanks."

Erica blushed slightly, "Actually I was going to offer you one side of my bed," she must have seen something in my face so she hurried on, "Just to sleep. It'll be more comfy than the sofa."

I grinned, "You're not gonna jump my bones in the night I hope."

She laughed, "You're safe Manni, trust me. What is it you say? I'm all about the cock... And I don't mean mine!"

We went through to the bedroom, and got undressed. Erica saw my bra and screwed up her face, "Ewww! That thing looks like it's made of scaffolding!"

It was true, it was nothing like the yellow confection she was wearing, "Not my fault. I can't get lovely undies in my size. I need loads of support for these great funbags"




Midnight Ch. 02



"Pfft! We'll see about that!"

Anyway, we stripped down to our panties and slipped under the duvet. She switched the light out and murmured, "You know, this my first ever girls night in."

I lay on my front and pushed my arms under the pillow as I snuggled my face into it, "Well, if they're all as much fun as this was, it won't be our last."

"Night night... My friend," I could hear the smile in her voice.

I grinned in the darkness, "Sweet dreams, Pal."

We drifted off to sleep, but a sound woke me a short while later. I was laying on my back with my legs in a figure four. I looked at the bedside clock and saw it was 3:32 AM. Next to me, Erica was laying on her side facing me. She was curled up slightly, rocking and moaning. Her face was screwed up and she looked like she was terrified.

Her moaning increased and I could just make out a word here and there, "No... Mmmfff... I'm sorry... Please don't... Mmmff phphp mmmm... You're hurting me..."

I slipped my arm underneath her tiny body and slowly drew her to me. Her legs straightened out and her arm snaked over my stomach. As her head rolled on to my breast, I held her to me with one arm and stroked her hair with my free hand. In gentle tones I murmured, "Shhh. It's okay. You're safe here. I got you. Shhh."

Eventually she calmed down and her face relaxed. I stopped stroking her hair and just held her against me as I stared straight up. A street lamp outside sent its light through the net curtain of the window and made a pattern on the ceiling. It was almost hypnotic. In normal circumstances it would probably have sent me straight back to sleep, but not this time. I glanced down at the tiny, fragile woman snuggled into me and gazed into her face, now that it was relaxed in deep, restful sleep, she looked like a little girl. She had ten years on me, but I felt a maternal instinct towards her. She was emotionally broken, but with a heart the size of Texas and all the love in the world to give to the right man.

And I knew who the right man was, even if he didn't... But tomorrow, he was going to be told. Oh yes! Tomorrow I was going to tear Alan Hardcastle a new arsehole and put that fucking idiot back on the right track.

It made me think about my own life so far. Yes, I'd faced tragedy and I was nowhere near where I'd hoped to be at this point in my life. But all things considered, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Not ideal... But not bad. And it wasn't too late to start making some changes of my own.

Decision made, I drifted back to sleep.

When I woke up again it was about half past nine. Erica was still cuddling into me, but her leg was thrown over mine with her foot between my knees and her hand that had been on my stomach was now cupping my left tit. As she lay there gently snoring with her face pressed into my right boob, I carefully moved her hand off my breast and back down to my waist. She looked so peaceful, I didn't want to move and wake her up, so I just waited for her to wake naturally.

I watched as her eyes drifted open and smiled to myself as they came into focus and she realised where she was. She looked up at me and I murmured, "Good morning," with a smile.

Erica blushed and slowly moved away from me. Then she stretched like a cat. Clearly embarrassed, she replied, "Morning... That was the best night's sleep I've ever had. I hope I didn't crowd you."

"Oh please! I've shared my bed with Barbie dolls that were bigger than you!"

Erica let me shower first. Then, while she was under the spray, I helped myself to her kitchen and prepared bacon and cream cheese bagels and a pot of coffee. When she bit into her bagel, her eyes opened wide and she destroyed it in record time, "I've never heard of bacon and cream cheese before," she looked longingly at my plate, "Do you... Erm... Need any help finishing yours?"

I picked up the butter knife to warn her off, "Back off Bitch! This bagel's got my name on it."

She grinned and then retrieved a carton from the fridge and filled a glass with a dark liquid. I watched her down it in one and then wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Prune juice. A warrior's drink!"

I shuddered, "If you say so."

Erica glared at me, "Romulan!"

I raised a hand in a stop motion, "What. Ever!"

She laughed, then drained the last of her coffee and reached out to pat my hand, "Thank you, Manni. For everything."

I smiled back at her, "No problem. After all, what are friends for?"

I got another one of her nuclear smiles before she asked, "Anyway, what's your plan for the day?"

"Well first, I'm gonna head to the University and check out some of their night school courses."

"Cool! Then what?"

I gave Erica an evil grin, "Then I'm gonna visit a mutual friend and read him the riot act."

Her face lost its smile,"You don't need to do that."

My expression hardened and I looked at her with flinty eyes, "Yes I do."

Later that morning I was at the administration office for night school and checked out the curriculum. My dream of being an archaeologist was out the window, but there was nothing stopping me from doing something else to improve my life. After all, I didn't want to be a cafe assistant and a barmaid for the rest of my life. So I signed up for touch typing, and a shorthand course. I also looked over one or two others that could give me qualifications that could begin a career instead of just having a job. Something that could earn me enough to escape from my shitty flat.

Then I hopped on the bus and headed back to Orchard Park to give Alan a piece of my mind.

I waited after tapping on his front door, until it opened and Alan stood there looking forlorn. He was unshaven and was clearly very unhappy, "Hiya Manni, what are you after?"

I bristled, "I'm here to slap some sense into the world's stupidest cunt!"

His eyes widened in surprise, 'cunt' was a word I never used. I hated it, so for me to have called him a cunt, he knew that this time, he was in deep shit.

I followed him to his lounge and watched as he stood looking at himself in the mirror over his fireplace. He looked miles away.

I flopped down into an armchair and said, "So, you don't even offer me a drink any more?"

"Sorry."

Alan disappeared into his kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of coffee and handed me one. After I'd taken a sip, I looked at him and said, "So?"

"So what?"

"You and Erica. What's going on?"

Alan squirmed uncomfortably, "I'm just a bit upset, I'll get over it."

"Do you love her?"

He refused to meet my gaze, "No. Don't wanna see it again."

My mouth dropped open, "Alan Hardcastle, I'm surprised at you!"

Alan snarled, "Why? Because I was taken in by some ladyboy."

I snapped back, "No! Because you're a fucking liar! And another thing, Erica isn't a ladyboy, she's a hermaphrodite."

"A what?"

I placed my drink on the floor at my feet and replied, "If you'd bothered to let her finish explaining, you'd bloody well know!"

I made a point of stressing 'she' and 'her' on purpose.

Alan didn't say anything, he just sat on the sofa looking miserable so I continued, "Look Al, I saw the way you two were when you were together. I've never seen you look at any of your birds the way you looked at Erica. And she's the only one you ever brought to the Green Ginger Man."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Yeah, well..."

"There's no 'yeah well' about it. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you and you'd be a fucking idiot to throw her away."

"She should have told me­"

"SHE FUCKING TRIED!" I took a deep breath and softened my tone, "But you wouldn't let her. You just ran away before she could tell you the whole story."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I spent last night with her and­"

He interrupted with a snarl, "Any good was she?"

I stared at him and the temperature in the room dropped below freezing, "Alan Hardcastle, I'm ashamed of you right now. I know you're a hard man and all that. I know you can be vicious when you need to be... But I have never known you be intentionally cruel, especially to someone you care about. You do care about Erica, and you can't deny it."

He didn't speak, so I continued, "She explained it all to me. It's all about X's and Y's and chromosomes and whatnot. It's not black and white, it's shades of grey. Trust me on this, Erica is a woman. Fuck sake, she's more feminine than I am!"

Alan placed his head in his hands, "It's difficult for me."

"You fucking coward! Do you think she's having a party? Look, she's had it hard. She's spent her life being frightened and lonely, but you know what? Broken as she is, she still has all the love in the world to give to the right person. She gave her heart to you, Alan... And you shat all over it."

He almost shouted, "I just don't know what to do!"

"I'll tell you what to do. Go and see her. Now. Talk to her and more importantly let her talk to you."

"I don't know..."

Time for the big guns, I thought to myself, then I said, "Alan, if you don't at least listen to what she has to say then you're not the man I thought you were," he looked at me in shock as I continued, "And if you don't, then it's the end. Our friendship will be over. I mean it!"

He was angry, "So you're gonna blackmail me into going out with her?"

"That's not what I said. Don't you dare put words in my mouth! Look, if you go and see her, listen to what she tells you and still can't get past it then fine. Well not fine, but you know what mean. But you must at least talk to her. That's all I ask."

I could see he was weakening so I pressed my attack, "And you never know. You might get past it... You might have something fucking special."

"I'll think about it."

I stood up, "Don't think too long. This is a limited time offer. I'll see you later, Alan... Maybe."

A short time later I was stood on my balcony looking out over the carpark. I saw Alan walk towards his car and climb in. As he pulled away and drove towards the exit, I was silently willing him to turn left, not right. Right led towards the city centre, left towards the Parade.

I punched the air, "YES!"

Alan had turned left.

I didn't see either of them for the next few days, but whilst I was at work later in the week, I was busy putting the sausage rolls in the hot rack when a man walked into the cafe. He placed a huge bouquet of roses arranged in a basket on the counter. I looked at the card, it said simply, 'Manni, Thanks for pulling my head out of my arse, Your bestie Alan.'

"How lovely," I thought.

Well, my first thought was, "How the fuck will I get this home on the bus?"

My second thought was, "How lovely."

A short time later, Erica popped in carrying a box wrapped with a red ribbon. She dropped it on the counter and said, "Just a little thank you from me."

I smiled, "So things are good then?"

"Oh yeah!"

I was about to open the gift when Erica stopped me and grinned, "I think you'd better wait until you get home."

We chatted for a short while longer and she was effusive in her thanks, to the point where she was embarrassing me.

After she left, I started making preparations to go home and discovered that I was right, the bus ride was a nightmare, I even had to buy a ticket for the flowers because they took up a seat.

Once I was firmly ensconced in my flat, I placed the bouquet on the floor by the fire place and then sat down on the sofa to open Erica's present. I lifted the lid and saw a note resting on top of the layer of dark blue tissue paper covering my gift. The note said, "Manni, I told you that you don't need to wear scaffolding, All my love Erica'.

Puzzled, I slid the tissue paper back and removed a delicate looking yellow bra and panty set. A small label on the bra said 'Rigby & Pellor'... Whoever the fuck they were.

I must admit, the undies looked beautiful. Much nicer than anything I owned. I rushed through to the bedroom and stripped off, then I put my new things on and had a look at myself in the mirror.

To say I was amazed was an understatement. The bra that had seemed too flimsy to be able to hold my boobs in place, or offer any support at all, looked lovely and it held everything in place. It really did. My breasts were high and pushed together forming a vast expanse of cleavage and I could see my plum coloured nipples through the delicate lace of the cups. Then I examined the panties. They were cut high on the side and the narrow gusset barely covered my pussy. The view of my thick thatch of pubic hair was the only downside and I determined there and then that I had to start shaving.

So, I took my undies off and ran a bath. Then, after a nice long soak with some of my fragrant oils, I set to work with my razor. I was very careful and took my time. Initially I thought I'd leave a landing strip or a Laurel Canyon Sweep, but then I just thought fuck it! And shaved the lot off.

After I was finished, I rubbed my pussy area with my fingers and couldn't believe just how soft and smooth it was. I sighed, this was going to cost me a fortune in disposable razors.

I must admit, when I went to bed that night, I couldn't keep my hands off my pussy and had many wanks before I eventually nodded off to sleep.

Anyway, life went on.

I continued with my night classes and once the touch typing course was finished, I made a point of setting time aside at the library so that I could keep my hand in. I'd normally type out a few pages from whatever I was currently reading. Got my speed up to 35 words a minute if you're interested. Not top of the range, I know, but better than a kick in the tits.

I did the same with my short hand, normally listening to a talking book and transcribing it in real time. Then I would type out what I'd written to make sure I was doing it properly.

Of course, once those courses were done, I needed something else, so I booked myself on to the Microsoft Office courses and a basic bookkeeping course.

What with all that, work and my regular evenings with Alan and Erica, life was pretty full. Once or twice, Steve had reappeared and I had been forced to forego a fuck. He wasn't happy. His words, "You don't ditch me. I say when it's over!"

I didn't take him seriously, I knew that if he was up for it and was unattached and I was able to accommodate then he'd be filling me up before you could say 'fuck me sideways'.

Anyway, like I said. Life went on.

And one day, out of the blue... My world changed again. I didn't know it at the time, but it did.

I had just turned up at the cafe for the afternoon shift, planted myself behind the counter and glanced around the place. It was a Wednesday, which was a quiet day normally, so I was there on my own. There was an old couple sat in the far corner sharing a pot of tea. They had plates that needed removing, but I'd wait until they were done. The side table under the chalk board had four workmen having a mid afternoon sandwich and the table by the window had a single occupant.

From where was I could see he was well if casually dressed. About thirtyish I suppose. Slim and quite tall, just shy of six foot if I was any judge. He had dirty blond hair that was worn short and neat and I could see that his face was attractive rather than handsome. The table was covered in papers and one or two text books. He was busily writing in a spiral­bound note book. Every so often, he would knock a book off the table and hastily grab it and search for his place again. At his feet, he had a battered briefcase that had clearly seen better days. There was a dirty plate and a mug on the table as well, so I decided to get rid of them and give him a bit more space to work.

I wandered over and said, "I'll get rid of your empties, shall I?

He looked up at me...

Those eyes. Those fucking eyes!

I couldn't believe just how gorgeous they were. The irises were an icy, almost translucent blue, the colour of arctic ice when the sun hits it just right. The pupils were pure black and each iris was rimmed with a tiny black line that delineated the edge of the iris against the whites, which looked like they had been painted on with brilliant white gloss paint. They were set off by narrow golden eyebrows arched perfectly over gorgeous orb.

A long moment passed and then he said, "Excuse me? I didn't catch that."

I felt like I was pinned in place by his intense stare. And that's what it was, he didn't seem to blink enough and I found myself unconsciously blinking for him. I know his eyes sound cold the way I described them, but... It's strange... They didn't feel cold. Not to me. There was a warmth there, they twinkled, they sparkled. And they had an intensity that was beyond belief. It felt like he was reaching deep inside me, right to the back of my mind, scooping out my thoughts and examining them in detail.

I stammered, "S... Sorry. I... I said, shall I get, get, get rid of your... Erm... Empties?"

He glanced down at the plate and the mug and then returned his gaze to me. He gave me a little half smile that slightly raised one corner of his lips, "Please. That would be a help."

I collected the dirty crockery and turned to leave, when he said, "Actually..."

"Yes?"

"Do you think I could have another coffee?"

"Of course."

I couldn't place his accent. It sounded quite cultured, but not plummy, if you know what I mean. All I did know was, he certainly wasn't from Hull or even Yorkshire.

I supplied him with a fresh mug and then made myself useful around the place. Making sure the cakes were straight in the display case, counting the sausage rolls, clearing empties where required and dropping the dirty pots into the sink out the back and wiping tables.

Every so often, I felt an itch between my shoulder blades. He was watching me, I just knew it!

Even when I wasn't facing him, I could feel those fucking eyes staring at me. When I looked back at him, he would simply display that almost embarrassed smile of his, pin me into place with that diamond drill stare, then he would direct his attention back to his work.

Every so often I would throw a glance his way as he wrote in his notebook. He would stop and look into space for a moment and then turn his weapon grade peepers back at me, throw me the smile and then return to his notes.

I nipped back into the kitchen and quickly washed the plates, leaving them to dry on the draining board and found myself having to control my breathing and trying to keep my hands from shaking, as I thought about the enigmatic man by the window.

What the fucking fuck was he doing to me?

I picked up a cloth and made my back out to the tables. I started wiping the table next to his, more for something to do rather than any need for hygiene. I stared doggedly at my hand as it made circular motions all over the plastic surface when I heard a voice say, "Do you have OCD?"

I glanced up at him and was once again frozen in place, bent over the table facing him. I knew that my blouse had fallen and my tits would be completely open to his gaze, but still I couldn't move.

"Sorry?" I asked.

The corner of his lip raised again, "I asked if you had OCD. It was a joke, but it's just that you've wiped that table four times now in the last," he glanced at the clock on the wall, "half an hour and nobody has sat there."

If I was able to blush I'd have been redder than a stop light. I stammered, "I... I just... I just like to keep busy."

"Ah. I see."

He continued to stare at me. I felt a spasm in my triceps and a shiver ran down my spine. He glanced again at the clock, "Look at the time. I need to get back to my office."

He gathered everything up and stuffed it into his briefcase, then stood up and headed for the door. He paused and said, "Pleasure meeting you."




Midnight Ch. 02



Automatically I answered,"Likewise."

I watched him wait at the edge of the kerb, look both ways and then cross when it was safe. He walked into the university campus and along the path into the distance. When he was little more than a tiny dot in the distance, I saw him stop and look back at me. Before continuing into one of the buildings.

Obviously, I couldn't really see him when he was so far away. But I knew... I just knew he was looking directly at me.

What the fuck?

And then something hit me. During the few times we had interacted, he had always looked me in the eye. Not once had he talked to my tits. Even when I was bent over the table in front of him.

He was looking at me!

After the last of the customers had left, I finished the washing up and then swept the floor. It was then that I found the notebook. That strange man had left it on the floor by his table, when he went to drop it in his case without realising that he'd missed.

I picked it up and looked inside. In neat copperplate lettering it said 'Property of Dr N Smethwick. If found, please return to Earth Sciences, Building G5, Hull University.'

Flicking through, I found it full of unintelligible notes and scribbled diagrams and drawings. I suppose that I really should have left it behind the counter in case he came back for it, but on a whim decided that maybe I could return it to him.

I placed the takings from the till into the safe, locked the place up and then headed over to the university. Just inside the gate was a large sign with a colour coded map of the campus. I quickly identified the building I needed and made my over there.

END OF CHAPTER TWO



Midnight Ch. 02



"What am I doing?" she asked herself as she swung through the city, rooftop to rooftop, with the precision she had mastered after long years of sacrifice, endless practice, rigorous training. "I should just be home, reading a book or something."

It was a question she asked herself from time to time. Why did she do it? Little did she know that Julian P. Covington, op-ed writer with the biting wit, the cutting criticism, had asked the same question about her in his piece that would appear in tomorrow's paper. 

She liked to think she risked her life because she was a concerned and caring citizen, striving to make the night-time streets a safer place for law-abiding individuals. That sounded great, and it was a nice pat answer. But it was also a lie. Not completely, certainly. She did want to protect innocent people. She was driven to it. But ah, that was the real question. Why was she driven? Why did it mean so much to her? It wasn't normal. She was on the fringes of society, and she knew it. She was the very definition of extreme.

Maybe she was trying to avenge the murder of her dad. But if that were the case, she was an utter failure. She couldn't avenge his death. Nothing she did, no one she saved, would bring her father back. 

Maybe she was striking out in rage the best way she knew how. Her dad's senseless death had eviscerated her, and she had ever since felt anger. Anger at the scumbags who had robbed them that night, pummeled Dad to the point of tears. Anger at the woman who shot him. But mostly, perhaps, anger at herself, for being so unable to prevent the attack, to protect the one man she had ever truly loved, to do something that might have saved his life. She tried to reason with herself—she'd been only six years old. What could she have done? But it was no consolation. She should have done something. Anything. But all she had done was sit there, frightened, worthless, covering her eyes against the onslaught.

Even back then, in the sickening aftermath of Dad's death, as she puttered her way through the days like a sad marionette, Jen knew what she wanted to do with her life. She wanted to resist the forces of evil, of malice. Never again surrender control. Never again feel so useless. She wanted to hit out, strike, punch the bastards who inflicted harm on the innocent and the weak.

The more she analyzed herself, the more she came to realize she was, in actuality, a slave. The decision to devote herself to becoming Midnight, the long years of preparing her body, her mind, her skills for this insane career . . . none of it was based on free will. She was driven. She could no more give up being Midnight than she could quit inhaling oxygen. Midnight was a part of her, perhaps the most ingrained, substantial part. Midnight was a living, breathing, restless entity—she had to exist. There was no way to bottle her up. She couldn't "retire." As long as Jen lived, as long as her body remained strong and agile and fast, Midnight would live right alongside her.

She swung down to the sidewalk. It was a quiet night, especially for a Saturday. She always made a point of checking out the seediest areas of the city, where crime rates were high. But she had encountered nothing tonight, and didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed. It was good to know the streets were safe for one night, at least. But she thirsted for action. The raging part of her, perhaps even a somewhat maniacal part of her, felt such a rush when she bashed in heads, broke noses, and generally beat the crap out of the criminal lowlifes who infested the neighborhoods like human fleas. When she let loose with a kick, felt it connect, there was such a sense of exhilaration.

"Maybe I should go see a therapist," she said to the empty street. The only sounds were her boots as they came into contact with the pavement, a steady rhythm that for some reason made her feel like dancing. "It's probably not healthy, the way I am."

She eased her pace, walking slowly now, her mind drifting, drifting, remembering things. Images, like movie clips, raced across her eyes . . .her dad, smiling, laughing. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think of him. Why? Why did he have to be killed? Why did that woman do it? Was it the drugs? Or was she just evil?

Suddenly, she heard footsteps, very close behind her. Stupid! She should never have allowed her mind to wander, not here, not now, not on the streets. Not when she was in costume. Not when she had so many enemies hell-bent on paying her back for all she had done to them or their buddies. Carelessness like that was intolerable, and potentially deadly.

Quickly she took stock of her surroundings. She saw no one in front of her, not even a late-night pedestrian or a street bum. To her left was a 24-hour Laundromat, the lights on, but no patrons inside. On her right, a row of old houses brooded in the gloom of the streetlights. A few lights were on, behind drawn curtains, but most of the houses were dark. Truly she was alone, save for the footsteps behind her. 

There was a whistle. She turned around, ready for anything.

Four men, all young, stood there. She recognized two of them—a couple of punks who had been trying to rob a house a couple of weeks ago. She'd caught them in the act, beat the snot out of them, but as usual, no charges were pressed. One of them, probably not even twenty years old, still moved with a slight limp from the blow she had delivered to his knee.

"Well, well, well," one of the men, someone she'd never seen before, said. "If it isn't Midnight. In the flesh." Again he whistled. She saw that he had no front teeth. His cheeks were coated with stubble. He wore a red bandana on his head, a black retro leather jacket, and motorcycle boots. He also carried a switchblade. In fact, all of them did. "And damn, that's got to be some smokin' flesh, if I do say so myself. Why don't you show us, bitch? Strip that fuckin' jumpsuit off, show us what you got."

"Yeah, yeah!" one of the others said. He was a blonde, with a baby face but a cold glint in his eyes. "Free those fuckin' tits, you cunt. And then we'll cut 'em right off and take 'em with us. You know, like souvenirs. And then maybe we can make a fuckin' killing by, like, selling 'em on eBay or something." He laughed hard at this, and the others joined him. 

She wanted to drop-kick him right in the nuts. But acting rashly wouldn't serve her. Four against one, all of them armed, and she wasn't as fresh as she might be—her long run earlier had left its toll, no matter what kind of shape she was in. Still, this shouldn't be too difficult, but she needed to be smart. Let them make the first move, tip their hand. Then she would react with a swiftness and violence they could not match.

"Whatsamatter, baby?" the guy with the limp said. "You too scared to talk?"

She wouldn't be baited, didn't reply. She had learned a long time ago that the best fighter is not careless, is not blinded by impulse. Keep a level head. Be clinical, yet alert.

The bandana-wearing guy was clearly their leader. She expected him to strike first, and he did—in predictable fashion. He charged her, slashing at her face with his knife.

Rather than backing up, as he might have expected her to, she stepped forward, caught his wrist mid-sweep, and squeezed. The guy grimaced, and dropped the knife. She kicked it behind her, elbowed him in the jaw, swatted him in the nose. Down he went, holding his face in both hands.

"You fucking bitch!" he said. Then, to his three partners, "What are you fuckers waiting for? Get 'er!"

All three charged, all three brandishing switchblades that gleamed in the faint light of the streetlamps. They were clumsy movers, without balance, coordination. To her, they seemed almost to be moving in slow motion.

She slipped to the side, outflanked their charge, and easily disarmed the blond kid. The knife dropped to the pavement with a clink, and she picked it up before another move could be made.

The bandana-wearing leader had by now returned to his feet, retrieved his knife. Four against one once more, but this time she was armed.

She whirled the knife in front of her, slicing the night air. It served no purpose save to intimidate, to show them how skilled she was, how she could do things with the switchblade they could never duplicate. She didn't want or intend to actually cut anyone. And wouldn't unless it was absolutely necessary. But if she could scare them off like this, so much the better.

"Yeah, you're good, bitch," Bandana Head said. "But we'll get you. You fuckin' hear me? When we're through with you, you'll be fucked . . . really fucked. You got it coming."

He charged her again, while the others stood their ground. She wasn't in the mood for this to carry on. And, thanks to this guy's stupidity, she now saw a way to end it quickly.

She kicked, more swiftly than he was ready for, and her boot connected with his wrist. There was a loud snap, and his knife fell to the pavement. In one motion she retrieved it, then grabbed her attacker, pinning him against her, her knife at his throat. The guy was holding his wrist, moaning.

"Fuck. You broke it. I can't believe it. You fuckin' broke my fuckin wrist . . ." he said. "I'll do more than that if your friends don't leave," she said. She pressed the blade against the soft flesh of his throat. 

He swallowed, looking at his buddies for support. They just stood there, wide-eyed, shell-shocked. 

"You . . . wouldn't cut me," he said. "I heard about that vow you took. Never to kill anyone. . ."

" . . . unless I have to," she added. "Or didn't you know about that little add-on?" She looked at his three partners, hoping her bluff would work. "Drop the knives," she said. "Drop them." She increased the pressure on his neck, the steel of the blade hard against his throat. "Don't make me tell you again."

Now it was their call. How much nerve did they have? Bandana Head nodded at them, and they dropped the knives.

"Good," she said, and pushed him away from her. He stumbled onto the ground, landing on his fractured wrist, howling in pain. She wasted no time, hurling her grappling hook onto the neck of a nearby streetlamp, hoisting herself up. From there she would take to the rooftops and make a quick getaway.

As she swung away, she heard the men yelling at her, threatening her, telling her that she was a dead woman walking. Her time would come. They'd get their payback.

She was accustomed to hearing such warnings. They rolled off her shoulders like harmless mist, dissolving into the chilly mid-October air. 

She couldn't believe she was going through with this. What did she know about this guy? Except that he had exuded confidence, could express himself with intelligence, and had a nice, cleanly shaved dick? He could've been a psycho for all she knew.

"Well, I've dealt with plenty of those," she said to her reflection, thinking of last night, of many nights, of the fights she had won, the punks she had humbled. 

She looked at herself in the mirror. He had said to meet her at seven, at Casey's, a classy place uptown. She didn't own many upscale dresses, but the one she had on now was one of her best. A sleeveless, navy blue silk affair that showed some cleavage. It was fairly short, too, reaching only to mid-thigh level, exposing plenty of leg. 

She chuckled at the glasses she wore. She always wore them when she left the house. Her eyesight was perfect—better than perfect, actually. 20/10 vision. The glasses had no magnifying power, no prescription. They just served to portray an image, to protect her secret. After all, who would ever suspect that Midnight wore glasses when she wasn't in costume? 

It was funny, too, because she liked the way she looked in glasses better than the way she looked without them. Sometimes, just walking around the house, she would put them on for no reason. She was used to them, too. She wore them to work every day—ugh, work. She wished she didn't have to go in tomorrow, or any day. Her technical writing job was all right, but she would rather not be bothered. If only there were some other way to earn a living . . .

That thought caused her to reconsider an offer that a men's magazine had posted on their Web site last month. It quickly spread to the mainstream news media, and even national figures like Regis and Kelly and Conan O'Brien joked about it. The magazine was offering Midnight a sizeable sum of money if she would pose for them in a photo shoot. Masked, of course. Jen had brushed the idea off as nonsense when she first heard about it. But she wondered. How much money? Maybe she should contact them. . . .It wasn't a naked shoot, after all—just sexy lingerie.

But for now, she needed to focus on tonight. Meeting Mr. NotIronPyrite. He still hadn't even told her his name (of course, she hadn't told him hers, either). Only that he'd be waiting outside the restaurant at seven. That he had short black hair, clean-shaven face, and would be wearing a beige sport jacket and matching dress pants. He said he was tall. Six feet three, which she liked. She was five eleven, and didn't really like to be paired with a shorter guy. 

"Well, here goes nothing," she said to her reflection, and then took a deep breath.

She heard a piercing meow. Mitsie, at her feet.

"I know," she said. "My sentiments exactly, dear."

She arrived at Casey's promptly at seven, and there was indeed a tall, dark-haired man standing near the entrance. 

She felt her heart race within her chest, told herself to quit being so nervous.

"I feel like a schoolgirl going on a first date," she said. It had been too long, she supposed. That was the reason for the nerves.

But when she got closer and saw just who it was who stood there, she felt like turning around and leaving. Of all the people in the world to meet anonymously . . .

"Hey," Julian P. Covington said, with a bright, practiced smile. "You must be CallmeCallme6969, right?"

She smiled, nodded. 

"Hmm," he said. "You seem a little disappointed. Remember what I wrote to you. If you don't like what you see, you don't have to humor me. Just tell me."

"No, that isn't it," she said. And it wasn't. She'd never stood next to him like this before—she's just seen his picture next to his column and watched him on local TV from time to time. She always thought he was handsome. But up close, he was gorgeous. "It's just . . . well, you're Julian Covington."

"Now you know why I wanted to be discreet," he said. Just then a gust of wind picked up, a car horn honked, another horn retaliated. "But hey, I think it would be much nicer if we continue this inside, don't you?"

She blinked, wondered if she should cut out. This was the guy, after all, who had made it his duty to call out Midnight, ask her to reveal her identity. Heck, in the morning's paper, which she had read with Mitsie seated on the tabletop in front of her, he had requested an interview with Midnight. He was dangerous. He'd be looking for clues. Still . . . how would he ever know who she was? How could he ever suspect?

She pushed her fake glasses up the bridge of her nose. They were always falling down—that was the downside to wearing them. It was a real pain, always having to adjust them.

"Well . . .?" he asked, gesturing toward the door. Clearly, he wasn't a man used to waiting for anyone.

"Okay," she said.

After being led to their table, a private corner booth, candle-lit, she took off her jacket, placed it on the back of her chair.

Julian gave an approving nod. "Damn, you're dressed to kill," he said. 

"Thank you," she said, as she sat down. 

"You know what?" he said. "I don't even know your name. You have me at a disadvantage, knowing mine."

"It's Jennifer," she said. "But everyone calls me Jen. Well, except my mom." She groaned to herself. God that was lame.

"Hmm, well, if you don't mind, I'm going to side with your mom. I like the name Jennifer. So, Jennifer . . . tell me. What do you think of my editorials? Are you a fan?"

Just then, the waiter came to their table, rescuing her, if only temporarily. What could she say? She honestly could not think of one thing he had ever written that she agreed with. Not just concerning Midnight, but anything.

She avoided the topic as best she could, and they ate. She found herself inexplicably attracted to him. More than she ever imagined. It went beyond his looks. There was something about him. She couldn't put a finger on it. 

"You read my Midnight op-ed piece in today's paper?" he said at one point.

She was in mid-swallow and the food went down hard. She choked. 

"I . . . ummm . . . I think you're a bit too wrapped up in her," she said once her choking subsided. She had taken note that, while she choked, Julian had expressed no concern, not even an "Are you all right?"

He put his fork down. "You a fan of hers?"

She cleared her throat. Don't be stupid, she told herself. Be cool. Be cool.

"Well, I guess so," she said. "I mean, she risks her life for the city, y'know? Isn't that enough? I mean, why do we need to know who she is beneath the mask?"

He scratched his chin. She didn't like the way he was looking at her . . . as if he were studying her, examining her. She fiddled with her glasses. He smiled. 

"I think the public is very interested in her," he said. "Hell, I know I am. Forget her secret identity for a minute. Why not grant me that interview? What harm could it do? Aren't you curious to learn more about her?"

Again the probing gaze. But then, maybe he did that with everyone. He was a news reporter, after all. It was his job to observe, to critique.

She took another bite of the food. She'd ordered chicken parm, and it was as delicious as it was pricey. "Well, sure," she said. "But I mean, why pester her? If she wants to do an interview, she will. You can't force her."

"No. Of course not," he said. "But I can ask. I can persuade. I'm a persuasive guy, you know." Another smile. "And have you heard the offer that magazine gave her? Wonder how much money they'd pay her for the spread. Big bucks, I'd say. Lot of people want to see Midnight in a lace bra and panties. Hell, too bad Playboy didn't make her an offer. Maybe they will. Guy can hope, right?"

She adjusted her glasses again, and decided it was time to change the subject. "So . . ." she said. "How's your food? You like it?"

He laughed. "You don't want to talk about Midnight, is that it, Jennifer? Well, all right. But I'm not the sort of guy who does small talk. We met on a sex site, did we not?"

She nearly choked again. This guy was about as subtle as a hatchet blow.

"Well . . .I'd like to ask you, if I may be so blunt. You want to go back to my place once we get out of here?"

She was sure she'd say no. He was so arrogant, so sure she wanted him. And besides, he was Julian Covington! A thorn in her side ever since she'd donned Midnight's costume. 

But then that other part of her, the part that needed, that wanted, that had urged her to create an account on an adult site, made her pause. Why not? What harm could it do? A couple of hours with him. Maybe he was as good as he seemed to think he was. God knows she hadn't had a great sexual experience in forever. 

She decided to go for it. And if for some reason she wanted to back out, she could always leave. 

She nodded. "Sure," she said. "I'd like that."

He smiled again. "I thought you would. But let me warn you. You remember what it said on my profile? I like you to be submissive. I'm kind of kinky, Jennifer. You'll need to do what I tell you, or else it won't work for me. Trust me, if you play it my way, you'll have the time of your life."

Warning bells sounded in her head, but she was determined to go through with this. Didn't she deserve a little fun? She lived on the edge of death constantly, risking everything. Didn't she, of all people, deserve a night of just letting go? And if he got too demanding, too rough, she was no man's prisoner. Just ask the street punks she had schooled last night.




Midnight Ch. 02



"Another thing," he went on. "If you want it slow and romantic and sensual, if you want kissing, I'm not your guy."

"You don't like to kiss?" 

"Kissing to me means there's some sort of connection between two people," he went on. "I'm not looking for a connection, just hot, kinky, sweaty sex. Kissing would be for my girlfriend. And I don't plan on having one of those."

There was a coldness to his voice now, but she again reminded herself not to worry. She could protect herself, handle herself, if she had to. She feared no one. But she also valued forthrightness, so . . .

"Well, I do like to kiss," she said. "And it doesn't necessarily mean there has to be a connection. I mean, kissing could just be a part of the play. I think kissing is sexy."

He pushed his plate away, took a sip of water. "Really? I don't. You know what's sexy? You lying on my bed, your hands bound together behind your back, your dress on the floor, your bra-encased tits heaving as I slap that tight ass of yours. That's what's sexy, Jennifer. Now before you go bolting to the door, understand one thing. I'm no brute. I'm not into forcing anything onto anybody. So like I said, you need to be cool with this. But if you are . . . you're going to be handsomely rewarded."

He talked a big game. She was wondering if he could really back it up. Kinky she could handle. Spanking, even. He was basically challenging her. Was she up for it? You bet she was.

"Let's go," she said. "I'm ready."

He licked his lips. "You're my kind of girl," he said.

♣

He led her to his suite—a top-floor pad overlooking downtown and the river. The rent was exorbitant beyond belief, but then, you got what you paid for. Besides, it was worth it—conveniently located, no lawn to maintain. And the women all loved it, those fortunate enough to be brought back here, that is. 

He closed and locked the door, flicked on a switch. 

"Well, what do you think of my private abode, fair lady?" he asked.

She looked around, no doubt taking note of the bare walls, the lack of furnishings.

"Well . . . it's simple," she said. He smiled. She was cute. 

"I'm not into home decorating," he said. "Unless it pertains to the job. Like this." He led her to his glass coffee table. Sprawled on top were photos of Midnight—nothing great. Just dark shots of her swinging through the city at night, shot by a few lucky photographers who then sold their pictures to the highest bidder—and usually the highest bidder was Julian P. Covington.

She didn't say anything, but he thought she looked uneasy.

"These constitute just the proverbial tip of the iceberg," he said. "Most of the shots I have are on my PC. You know, this is a digital age we live in. Took me some time to get used to that. Child of the '80s. Getting old."

She cleared her throat. "I hope you don't mind my saying this," she said. "But you're kind of obsessive. Well, not kind of. You are obsessive. Is Midnight all you think about, Julian?"

If she had meant that as an insult, he hadn't taken it as such. Damn right he was obsessive. You had to be, in his line of work. He imagined Midnight herself must be obsessive, too. Anyone who did the things she did, must be. Two of a kind. God, he wanted to fuck her. Dominate her. But for now, he'd gladly settle for the hard body he was with.

"Not all I think about," he said. "I think about other things every now and then. You know, like how to bring a woman to the edge, just to the edge, make her want more, make her beg. I'm a well-rounded guy, Jennifer. Real Renaissance man."

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure you are."

He'd had enough. The time for talk was over. He wanted to get down to business.

"Take off your dress," he ordered.

Her head snapped back, as if she were slapped. "Excuse me?"

"Look. I told you already, I'm dominant, didn't I? So if you want to play with me, you have to be able to handle that. Earlier, you acted like you could handle me, Jennifer. Situation too much for you, now that you're here? Feeling insecure? Like maybe you don't have what it takes? If so, you know where the hall is."

He was being an ass, he knew that. But it was all a part of the feeling-out process. If someone wanted to have fun with him, she would need to be able to tolerate, even embrace, his antics. Usually, if a woman stayed in his apartment for more than five minutes, after she had endured his initial barrage and hadn't been scared off, he had her. If she couldn't deal with him, she usually left right away. 

"But if you're as ready as you said you were back at the restaurant, then strip. Right now."

"Right here? In your living room?"

"Right here." He looked at his wristwatch. "I'll time you, Jennifer. You have four seconds to do as you're told. If you don't start removing your clothes in that span, you're out of here. If you do, well, then, lucky you, girl. You'd have made the right decision. But make it. Or get lost."

She hesitated for a second, a look of defiance in her eyes. But then she reached up, pulled the thin silk straps over her shoulders, let her dress fall to the floor in one easy motion. 

He whistled. "Damn. Your naked pics were hot, but you're even better in person." He approached her, touched her stomach, rubbing her abdomen with firm, circular strokes. "That's a six-pack any guy would die for."

She blushed, said nothing.

"What'd you do to get a body like this, Jennifer?"

"Work like hell," she said. "What else?"

She was up for the challenge, this one. He could sense it. She had a strength to her, a pride. Good. He loved a contest.

"What would you say if I told you that in oh, maybe twenty minutes from now, I'll have you begging . . . not requesting, not wanting, not asking . . . but begging for me to fuck you. You'll be so at my mercy that you will do anything I say just so you can feel the pleasure of my cock deep inside your pussy. What would you say if I told you that?"

He noticed that her breathing was already growing more rapid. She might put up a good front, but he was getting to her. This one wasn't used to being dominated, that was obvious. Well, that was okay. She had come to the right teacher.

"I say, all you've done since we met is tell me how incredible you are," she said. "But so far, you haven't done anything to back that up. So you'll forgive me if I have my doubts."

"C'mon," he said. "Bedroom."

He grabbed her by the hair, and in an eyeblink, she swatted his hand away. It was such a lightning-quick maneuver, he had hardly had a chance to react. What's more, she packed a wallop. His hand throbbed where she'd struck him.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I . . . I didn't expect you to grab me like that. I . . ."

"It's okay," he said, massaging his sore hand. "You're quite an athlete, aren't you, Jennifer? What, do you think you're Midnight or something, moving like that?"

He laughed, and so did she. But she was tight. He could see it in the way she stiffened her shoulders. He imagined she was still a little nervous about all of this, and perhaps she was embarrassed over the way she had struck him. Or perhaps . . . perhaps she was hiding something. Something big. He knew all about hiding things, after all. He was something of an expert at the art. She showed all the signs.

But no. He was always so ready to jump to conclusions, make impulse judgments. He needed to, in his profession. He usually didn't have time to get to know the people he wrote about—he relied on his instincts, his gut. But there was no reason to be suspicious with this woman. She was just a horny girl, superbly shaped and athletic with great reflexes, yes, but still, just a horny girl taken aback by his masculinity and aggressiveness. Who wouldn't be? He'd break her in.

"Now, just to lay down the ground rules one last time, Jennifer," he said. "If you don't want to play by my guidelines, no one is forcing you. Look, I'm not going to hurt you or harm you. I won't lie. I play rough. It may sting a little when I give you the hard spanking you know you want. But I won't do anything to physically harm you. You can trust me. Hell, I'm Julian P. Covington, hot-shot reporter for the Herald. Do you really think I'd destroy my career by hurting you and having you then drag my name through the mud? Relax, babe. But know this. From this point on, you do as your told until your dress is back on. Then we're equals again. But in the bedroom, you're mine. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" she said, and gave a mock salute. Indeed, breaking her in would be a treat.

"Now get that tight little ass of yours into my bedroom," he told her.

She was breathing faster, faster, as he swung his ping pong paddle and slammed it into her butt. "Uhh," she said. He smiled. She'd been at his mercy for just ten minutes, but she was already fully aroused. He'd probed beneath her panties a minute ago, and she was sopping.

He had her facedown on the bed. She was gagged and her hands were tied behind her back. She had resisted slightly at first, showing real reluctance to being bound and gagged, but she relented. And soon, very soon, he would remove the gag. But not just yet.

He brought the paddle down again, and she squirmed, that perfect body of hers jerking and writhing. She was panting into her gag. He loved the fact that she was wearing a G-string. The vixen. That had made things easier. Her full ass cheeks were exposed, and by now very red. But he had tired of the thin piece of fabric. It was time to remove it.

He reached forward, slapped her ass with his bare hand, and violently yanked her panties down. Fully naked from the waist down, she was without a doubt the most perfect female form he had ever laid eyes on. 

"Dear God, don't you ever splurge, Jennifer?" he teased. "Not a fucking ounce of fat on you. You need to live a little, baby. Eat that piece of cake sometimes." 

He may have teased her, but he admired her perfect form. She wasn't skinny—not by a long shot. She was beautifully toned, solid, her legs taut pistons, sinewy, and wonderfully long. Every picture he'd seen of Midnight suggested that she was tall, too. It was easy, looking at the sculpted body before him, to pretend that he really had Midnight right now, that it was Midnight, not just some girl named Jennifer, who was tied up on his bed, sopping wet, waiting for him to fuck her.

"One day," he said, under his breath. "One day."

He aggressively inserted his index and middle fingers into her cunt, and she squirmed at the intrusion. But beneath the gag, he heard her gasp. She was gyrating her hips, pushing back against his fingers. Horny, needy. 

He pulled his fingers out of her, climbed onto the bed, finally removed her gag.

"So," he said, "have I backed up my talk so far, Jennifer? Based on how hot and slick and oily you are, I'd say I have. Wouldn't you?"

She nodded, looked away, evidently embarrassed. He grabbed her long brown hair, and she let out another gasp. He forced her to look at him. 

"Tell me you want to suck my dick, Jennifer," he commanded.

She shook her head.

"Don't you want to?"

She didn't respond. Of course she wanted to. She knew it, and he knew it. 

"If you don't tell me what you want, you won't get what you want," he said, and got up.

He went behind her, again licking his lips at the sight of her butt. He grabbed the paddle, smacked her! Again, again, again.

"Uhhhhhhhh," she said, and he knew she was close to cumming. 

"You like that, don't you, baby?" he said, and slapped her again. "Now I'm sure you'll like my cock in your mouth even more. Tell me."

Smack, slap!

"Yes," she said. 

"Yes, what, Jennifer?"

Another slap. Her ass was a bright red from the abuse.

"I want to suck your cock."

"Good girl."

♣

As she sucked him, her mind was a whirling cyclotron of contradictory thoughts. She hated this. She loved this. She hated him. She was attracted to him like she couldn't believe, and would be ashamed to admit. She couldn't believe she had allowed herself to be tied up. At first she didn't think she could go through with it. She felt too much at his mercy, too powerless, too much like that little girl frozen in fear on the couch that terrible night twenty-four years ago. But then she reminded herself. She wasn't at his mercy. She wasn't powerless. This was her choice. She could break free from his crude knot anytime she wanted. Any illusion of power he held over her was just that—an illusion. He only dominated her because she let him.

But she didn't understand. Why did she like it? Whether or not she could break free at any time was irrelevant in a way. She was enjoying his authority, had willingly succumbed to it. If she hadn't, she wouldn't be bound on his bed right now, slurping on his dick, she wouldn't allow him to pull her hair and paddle her ass. But there was something about it—something about surrendering, submitting. . . . She couldn't put her finger on it, and couldn't figure it out. Maybe it was just a relief to allow herself to be taken for a change. She was always the one in control, assessing her situation, kicking ass. She hadn't even thought she was capable of letting herself go like this. She'd never let anyone have his way with her before. She couldn't remember ever feeling this turned on.

"Suck me, suck me, Jennifer!" he commanded, and she increased her tempo, her glasses nearly falling off, wanting him to explode in her mouth, wanting to taste the warm, sticky fluid that came from his arousal. 

She felt his hands in her hair again, yanking, pulling, so rough. But she didn't resist. She could have freed her hands without half trying, pushed him off of her, and immediately have him at her mercy. But she just let him pull her hair, let him fuck her mouth. And with each passing moment, her arousal grew.

And grew. And grew. . . .

♣

He was close now, very close. He increased the tempo, grabbed her head, forced his dick deeper into her throat. He felt her try to pull back, but he didn't let her. He would—he didn't want her to suffocate—but not yet. Not until she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who was in charge. 

She grunted on his dick, sucking, sucking, even as she tried to force her head back. He knew she was loving this. She was a wild one. Kinkier than he'd expected, more fun. Not just a glorious body, but a willing mind, too. Quite the combination.

Finally he let go of the pressure, and she moved her head back, took a breath even with his dick still in her mouth.

He grabbed her long hair again, pulled it hard, very hard, and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"Yes," he told her. "Good girl, Jennifer. Now you get me off. Make me cum in that pretty mouth of yours."

She was a dervish, moaning, sucking, slurping. And in no time at all, he climaxed, shooting his man-juice into her mouth. She held it there a moment, then swallowed. 

"Now get me hard again, so I can fuck you," he instructed. She didn't need to be told twice. She was at him again, and he was hard in less than a minute. She was a great cocksucker—very good with her lips.

His penis fully erect, pointing up toward his belly button, he maneuvered behind her, undid the bind that held her. She collapsed onto the bed, her glasses falling off, her arms sprawled out to the side. She was soaked with her own sweat.

"Quite a workout you're having, huh, Jennifer. But then, you're used to workouts, aren't you?" He smacked her ass with the palm of his hand, as if to emphasize his words. "Lie down on your back now, and reach out behind you, toward the headboard."

She hesitated, apparently unsure what he wanted.

"I want to tie your wrists to my headboard, Jennifer, and then ravish you. Any objections?"

She put her glasses back on, and did as she was told. Moments later, she was bound, her arms stretched out behind her. He had tied the knot tight, but not too tight. No reason to be mean. He mounted her, and he loved the lust, the need in her eyes. She desperately wanted him inside of her.

"Now . . . I can assure you that I'm clean as a nun's whistle," he told her. "No diseases. How about you, Jennifer?"

She swallowed. "I'm clean," she said. "Haven't had many partners."

He chuckled. "Well, it only takes one dirty, diseased cock to infect you, doesn't it? But don't worry, I will wear my rubber anyway. Can't take any risks, now can we?"

He saw her take a sigh of relief. "Fuck, I shouldn't have tied you up yet," he said. "If you want me to fuck you, the least you can do is put my sheath on for me."

With that, he undid the knot, handed her a condom—one that smelled like tropical fruit. He hated condoms, but he couldn't risk a drop of pre-cum infiltrating her. He couldn't risk getting her pregnant. He only wished he had been smarter about such things in years past. . . .

"Put it on, Jennifer," he instructed. "But first, suck it again. I think I've deflated, just a little."

She leaned forward, took him in her mouth. She still had her bra on. He loved the way women looked in their bra. Often better than topless. But he'd seen enough of it. He needed those fine tits of hers to be freed now.

As she sucked him, he reached behind her, unhooked her bra, threw it on the floor. She didn't disappoint. Her breasts were as perfectly formed as the rest of her, and her nipples were hard and pointy. He took one between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Her body jerked, but she continued sucking.

"That's enough," he said. "Now put this on me."

He handed her the condom, and she encased his dick with it. Then, without being told, she lay back down, extended her arms behind her, waiting to be tied again. Who was he not to oblige?

Once she was secured back in place, he climbed on top of her. She was panting, her need, her desire, oozing through her pores. He could smell the arousal. 

"What do you want, Jennifer?" He inserted his dick into her, half an inch deep, then pulled out. 

She writhed beneath him. "Fuck me," she said. "God, just fuck me!"

He pushed in an inch, two inches, three. She moaned. Then he pulled out. When she looked at him with frustration, he laughed. 

"Ask me nicely, and maybe I'll fuck you like you want it," he said.

Her breasts were heaving. She was beyond all reason, he knew. He reached for her, rubbed her nicely shaven mound, squeezed her clit, inserted his finger inside of her and pressed firmly against the folded grooves of her G-spot. She bucked like a wild mustang.

"Ask me nicely, Jennifer," he said.

"Please . . ."

He pressed her G-spot again, and with his other hand, he pinched her clit. "Please what?"

"Please . . . fuck me."

Now he grabbed her breasts, kneaded the soft flesh, mashing them together, pulling them apart. Then he grabbed both nipples, pulled on them, straightening them out, lengthening them, stretching them . . .

"Please, fuck me, what?" he said, and let go of her nipples. They bounced back against her tits, and he repeated the process—pinching them, pulling them, letting them snap back into place. Fun. Almost like playing with rubber bands, stretching, pulling, letting go. . . . "Address me nicely. With respect."

She was tossing her head from side to side, her eyes opening and closing behind her glasses.

"Please . . . fuck me, sir," she said.

He smiled. He knew she'd be begging for it. He had told her she'd be. He couldn't wait anymore. He needed to have her now. He pushed in halfway, and she gasped. Then he pulled out again.

"You want me to fuck you, Jennifer?" he teased. "That's true, isn't it?"

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

If it were possible, his erection stiffened even more, and he buried himself deep inside her, to the hilt.

"Oh God, yes," she said, and her hips rose to meet his thrust.

He wasn't a soft lover. He believed in fast, furious, hard action. He thrust with power and speed, drilling into her. She was moaning, groaning, thrashing, matching his pace with a sexual energy he had rarely encountered. This woman needed a release. She must have had a lot of pent-up frustration, tension. . . Well, he always had thought of himself as a humanitarian. Never leave a woman wanting. . . .




Midnight Ch. 02



He had chosen a thick condom, the sensations he felt dull to nonexistent. That was because he liked to fuck a woman for up to an hour, have her come multiple times before he did. This was no exception. She came quickly, he felt her vagina spasm, tighten, her entire body tense up like a coiled spring, and then . .. the release. She went limp, came with a shriek. But he was far from through. He continued to hammer home, brought her to a second orgasm, a third. Her wrists, bound to the headboard, pulled on the wooden bars, causing the bed to jerk and move, while the springs beneath them creaked and screamed in protest.

After her third orgasm, she was spent. Her body was glistening with sweat, to the point where she must have felt chilled. Her hair was a wild, disheveled mess from all the tossing and turning and twisting. She looked sexier than words could describe. He'd found a worthy fuckbuddy. It had taken a while, but he'd finally found her.

But he still needed to cum. He untied her, told her to get on her hands and knees, right on the floor. She still seemed to want more, the cum-slut. Worthy, indeed.

He took her doggie style. With one hand, he yanked on her hair, pulling her head back roughly. With the other hand, he fondled her breasts, which hung down, begging to be played with. Every now and then, he'd let go of her tits and give her ass a good, swift swat. But more than anything, he was focused on himself now. He wanted his release. He looked at her long, athletic body, her sweat-soaked skin, and perfect ass, and thought of Midnight. Thought of banging her, making her squirm, subduing her. He thought of her masked and naked and moaning before him, begging him to give it to her. That did the trick. As he continued to hammer away, he was getting closer, closer, closer . . . .

♣

She hadn't ever felt this exhausted, hadn't even known she was capable of multiple orgasms. And she didn't know that any orgasms could be this powerful. She had never felt so completely sexual in all her life. She just wanted him, his cock. And now, with him pulling her hair, taking her from behind, she sensed that he was finally close to his own orgasm. And then it would end. That thought left her feeling deflated. She didn't want it to end. She felt so alive, so hot, so sexy. He didn't respect her. He was just using her for his own sexual needs. But that didn't seem to matter, at least not tonight. After all, her own needs were being met in a fashion she hadn't thought possible. 

The entire evening, she didn't allow herself to overanalyze, didn't allow herself to overthink. She just wanted to get lost in the sensations, the newness of allowing herself to be taken, the novelty of letting someone else dominate her. She just wanted to revel in the feeling of his dick deep inside of her, his hands stimulating her, his words making her feel horny beyond belief. There would be time enough for rationalization, for reflection, for normalcy, later. But not now. Not with his dick sliding in and out of her like a throbbing piston, not with his fingers yanking on her hair, not with his hand pinching and squeezing her nipples. Not now. 

Behind her, she heard him groan, and then she felt his cock shrink and soften. With that, she knew it was over. . . . 

♣

"I'd like to see you again, Jennifer," he said. They were in the living room now, fully clothed, by the door. He wrote his private e-mail address on a slip of paper, handed it to her.

She took it, then hesitated. After taking a breath, she said, "Can I borrow your pen and paper?" 

"I'm glad," he said a moment later, taking the slip of paper she had just written on. "I think you're exactly what I'm looking for." This was an important phase of the evening. He had put away his aggression, his dominance. Now it was time to show her that it was all just a game, a part of his play. Away from the bedroom, he was simply Julian P. Covington, journalist, all-around sensitive guy. A very important point in the proceedings, indeed. If she thought he was really a jerk, she'd never be back.

"Well," she said, "thanks, I think." She smiled shyly. "I'm not even sure what I was looking for. But . . . I mean, I never experienced anything like this before. I don't even know if I like the fact that I enjoyed it so much. But . . .yes. I'd like to see you again, too."

"E-mail me, okay?" he said.

She nodded. "Talk to you soon, Julian," she said. She leaned closer to him, subtly, almost imperceptibly. Giving off signals that she wanted to kiss him goodnight. 

He backed up a step. He wouldn't take the bait. He had already told her how he felt about kissing.

She looked away, then reached for the door knob. "See you," she said.

"Ciao," he said.

After she had gone, he locked his door. He needed to take a shower, then head to bed. Busy day tomorrow. Mondays were always a bitch. He needed to be at the office by seven, at the latest.

That made him think of another editorial he had in mind regarding Midnight. He wondered. Where was Midnight on this Sunday evening? While he had been having fun, fucking CallmeCallme6969, where was the city's costumed vigilante? Probably out among the rooftops, or walking the streets, he figured. Damn, that broad needed to get away for a while. She needed to unwind, stop taking herself so damn seriously. A costumed crimefighter. The whole idea was absurd.

"Well, you'll be begging for my cock someday, Midnight," he said to the empty room.

He nearly walked past the answering machine without noticing the flashing red "1." He was sure he had no messages when Jennifer had arrived. Someone must have called while they had been fucking in the bedroom. 

He pressed the Play button. And his face, which had been feeling light and stress-free, as he enjoyed the memories of his night with a hot, sexy hard body, gradually hardened as he listened to the recording.

When it was finished, he pressed the Play button again, just to make sure he hadn't been imagining things. No such luck. The words were clear, firm, pointed like a freshly sharpened arrow. And very real.

Mistakes. Some you could put behind you, overcome, forget. Others never ceased to torment you. And now, apparently, someone else had discovered the one mistake he never wanted to face, the one mistake he could not erase, the one mistake he had fought so hard to conceal. No one could know of it. No one.

But someone did, and now they had him backed into a corner, pinned. Trapped.

He had two ways out. Neither was good.

He could either make a mockery of his considerable reputation as a hard-hitting editorial writer. 

Or he could turn a blind eye, ignore the demands, and stay in the background as an innocent person was murdered.



Midnight Ch. 03



No Sex until chapter 7 - VirtualAtheist

CHAPTER THREE

 It was getting on for six o'clock and there only a few people wandering around on whatever business they were on. When I reached Building G5, I stood outside and looked at the double doors that were still wide open.

 Don't ask me why, but I was suddenly quite scared. What did I think I was doing? I had no idea who he was and I was just inviting myself into his world. I knew that I had no business being on campus. That bus had passed three years ago when I had to drop out of school... But still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

 I took a deep breath, steeled myself and marched in through the doors. A sign inside on the wall directed me to the offices of the various doctors and professors who worked here. Under the heading Palaeontology I found the name Dr N Smethwick with an arrow pointing down the corridor to the right.

 I made my way along it until I reached an area that opened out with a desk with a computer sat on it and several doors leading into several offices, only one of which was open. I could see Dr N Smethwick inside. He had just tipped his briefcase on to the desk and was searching through the contents.

 Before I could make my presence known, he glanced up at me as I held out his notebook.

 Those eyes. Those fucking eyes!

 I stammered slightly, "I... I think you're looking for this."

 When he realised what I was holding, he sighed with relief, "Thank you."

 I handed it to him and then looked around the office. To be honest it was in a right state. Books and papers were just dumped in piles all over the place with no rhyme or reason. There were a couple of large bookcases covering the far wall, but they too were just piled haphazardly with books. I could see a very old wooden clock high on the other wall. It had a large brass pendulum that swayed to and fro with a gentle tick tick tick. His desk had a computer on it, but it didn't look like he had ever turned it on and his in and out trays were piled with neatly typed pages of script, hastily scribbled notes and more than a few stubs of flight and train tickets.

 As he skimmed over one of the pages in the notebook, I said, "You're not terribly organised."

 He nodded, "I know. I suppose I should try and sort it all out, I just don't have the time."

 "Being a Dr of Palaeontology is hard graft is it?"

 He glanced up at me quite sharply, but his expression softened when he saw the grin on my face, "I need an assistant really. It's not just the University stuff. I work in the field as well."

 I moved further into the office and glanced down at one of the papers on the desk, it was the first page of a treatise entitled, 'The Miocene Mammal Necrolestes Demonstrates The Survival Of A Mesezoic Nontherian Lineage Into The Late Cenezoic Of South America' whatever that meant.

 "What's this?" I asked, pointing to the paper.

 He glanced at it and said, "Oh that's a PhD paper. I was on the board for his defence of it... I keep meaning to file it. Just never have the time."

 "I see."

 I pointed to another pile of papers, "And these?"

 "That's my script for a presentation tomorrow... Or at least part of it."

 "Where's the rest?"

 Once again he looked directly into my eyes, pinning me in place. His hand reached out and waved towards the computer on his desk, "Somewhere," he said, "In that fucking thing!"

 I laughed, "I'm guessing that computers aren't your speciality."

 He joined in with my laughter and replied, "Definitely not. Give me a dig site full of specimens over a computer any day."

 The laughter stopped and an uneasy silence followed as we remained staring into each other's eyes. I don't know about him, but I simply couldn't look away. His eyes wouldn't let me.

 I murmured, "Maybe..."

 "Maybe what?"

 "Maybe I could find it for you?"

 "Feel free to try."

 I sat at the desk and fired up the PC. Once it was booted up, I asked, "What's the talk about?"

 "It's called the The Architecture of Ediacaran Fronds."

 My brow furrowed, "Can you spell Eddie Karen for me?"

 He did.

 Then I used the Windows search feature to see if that would find the document. After a few minutes, it did. I said, "Got it. You seem to have placed it in the recycle bin. I've retrieved it back to My Documents and it's printing out now."

 I smiled at him and he stared back thoughtfully. I got shivers down my spine again.

 "What?" I asked eventually

 He looked around the room and then returned his attention to me. He sat down opposite me and rested his elbows on the desk tapping the heels of his hands together rhythmically and gazed at me earnestly, "Tell me," he said, "If I asked you to sort this office out, what would you do?"

 "What do you mean?"

 "I mean. If you had to organise this space, tell me what you'd do. Step by step."

 I managed to drag my eyes from his, which I freely admit was fucking difficult and looked around the room. I said, "Would I be allowed to use the area outside the office at all?"

 "Temporarily I suppose, as long as you didn't inconvenience the other members of staff."

 I rested my my elbows on the desk as well and placed my chin on my fists. I blew out heavily as I looked around. Before I could say anything he added, "Also, think about how you would fit an extra desk in here."

 I giggled, "Do I have to stand on one foot as well?"

 Once again I received that little smile, "No. But I'm interested in your thoughts."

 "Right. First thing, I'd get all the books out of here and stack them against the wall outside the office so they didn't get in people's way. Then I'd collect all your papers up and stack them on your desk. Question. Are all of your documents on the PC or are some of them just paper copies?"

 "Why do you ask?"

 "Well, any that are on the PC can just be binned, unless you've made amendments in pen. No point gathering and sorting paper documents if I don't have to. Its just wasted effort."

 "They're all on the computer, but I'm not sure where."

 "Fine then. Make a note of the titles and try to find them on the PC. Once found, place them in your document directory if they aren't already there. Bin the hard copy, if not, keep the hard copy."

 "Okay, what else?"

 "Sort the books into alphabetical order and stack them on the bookshelves."

 "What about my ticket stubs?"

 "Do you need to account for them?"

 "Yes. But there's no system in place. I use a company to look after my accounting, but I'm very behind with my returns at the moment."

 "Okay, I would contact the company and find out when they last received your return. I'd need to know the yearly budget. Then I'd create a simple spreadsheet on Excel and start it from your total yearly minus your last return. Then I'd enter all of the costs for the tickets. Print off the costings for each complete month up to the current date and send it off to the accountants," I shrugged, "Then it'd be easy to keep up to date, as long as you entered the costings as and when."

 "Suppose I need to be in Sydney, Australia from 1 November to 17 December. I fly business class and normally stay in three star accommodation where available. But I'll sleep anywhere if I have to."

 I smiled, "The Internet is a wonderful thing. Loads of websites to book flights and hotels. They also allow you to price check so you get the best deal."

 "What if I need a car to get about?"

 "Car hire companies are on-line as well."

 "Can you use Outlook? "

 "Of course. I've just finished an MS Office course."

 He stood up and paced up and down a couple of times, tapping the heels of his hand together as he walked. Then he stopped and said, "This is going to sound strange, but... Would you be willing to come back to my house?"

 Shocked, I blurted out, "What?"

 He looked at me and said, "It's not what you think, and I know it's... certainly unusual, but I have good reasons. I don't just work here, I work from home as well and that space needs sorting too. Trust me on this."

 I'll admit, his request surprised me, and if I'm honest, going off to his place when I didn't even know his first name would be a fucking stupid thing to do... But... I have no idea why, I was seriously entertaining the idea. I can't explain it, but even after the short time I'd spent with him... I don't know... I got the same vibe from him as I did with Alan. I felt safe with him.

 I gazed at him as he looked out of the window and then came to a decision, "Okay," I said, "I'll check it out."

 He smiled at me and replied,"Good. You won't regret it."

 "Couple of things though."

 His brow furrowed, "What?"

 "First, you need to tell me your name."

 He laughed, "Sorry. I sometimes forget the social niceties. I'm Nathan."

 "And I'm Manni."

 "Charmed. And the second thing?"

 "You have to promise I won't turn up in tomorrow's papers as the latest victim of the Hull Strangler."

 His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he grinned, "I promise. Besides, I've run out of rope, although I do have some spare boot laces I can use at a stretch."

 He reached out a hand, "Deal?"

 When we touched it was almost as though a shot of electricity had shot up my arm. His grip was firm, yet gentle and his skin felt surprisingly soft. I saw his eyes widen slightly and his hand trembled very slightly too, but he didn't say anything. And once again I found myself falling into his eyes.

 I stammered, "D... Deal."

 I didn't want to let go of his hand and simply held it until he gently pulled away and led me out of the building and over to his car. I was surprised to see that it was a BMW X5 and going by the plates it was only a couple of years old.

 "Palaeontology pays well then," I said.

 Nathan shrugged, "I get by."

 The drive only took a few minutes as we travelled just a mile or so from the university to his house on Hall Road. It was at the Cottingham Road end, and a much nicer area than where Hall Road terminated at Orchard Park. We pulled into the drive of a rather smart three bedroomed semi-detached house and he led me inside.

 I sat down on a small sofa in his lounge and looked around. The room was separated from the dining room by a wide arch bisecting the space at the halfway point. The front of the room was dominated by a large wooden desk sat in front of the bay window. It too was smothered in notes, papers and textbooks as well as a top end Apple Mac.

 Although there was a fireplace, it had been blocked off as the house was centrally heated. The dining room had a simple wooden dining table with four chairs and the entire place was in just the same state as his office at the university.

 I watched as he rummaged through various documents and papers on the desk, when he looked over his shoulder and asked, "Would you like a drink?"

 I realised I was actually quite thirsty and asked if he had any fruit juice. Nathan wandered into the kitchen at the back of the house and shouted through, "I've got orange and grapefruit."

 "No pineapple? Ah well, orange please."

 After he'd supplied me with my drink, he sat down on the office chair in front of his desk and said, "Right Manni, have a look around and tell me what you'd do to sort this place out."

 I looked around and said, "I have absolutely no idea."

 Nathan gazed at me quizzically, "Why do you say that?"

 "Well for one thing, is this a living room or an office?"

 He grinned, "It's supposed to be a living space. I rather planned on using one of the bedrooms as an office, but it's just as much of a state up there. I just never seem to have the time to sort my life out."

 As he was talking, he switched on the Mac and shuffled a few papers around on the desk.

 I stood up and positioned myself behind him, I leaned down to look at the Mac, "Ooh! Shiny!"

 Without thinking, I placed my hand on his shoulder and once again felt a shiver down my spine.

 He turned his head towards me and we looked each other in the face once again. We were only inches apart and my nostrils filled with the scent of his aftershave and it was intoxicating. I'll be honest, it took all of my resolve not to kiss him. I blinked and then quickly stood up straight, slipping my hand back to my side, "Sorry," I murmured, embarrassed.

 He looked at the papers on his desk, almost as though he was afraid to look at me and said, "No problem."

 Suddenly, he spun round and fixed his hypnotic gaze upon me once again,"Tell you what, I'll give you the quick tour and then you can see what's what."

 "Okay."

 He led me upstairs and showed me the second bedroom, it had a double bed in it along with the usual furniture, but there were also several cardboard boxes piled in there filled with books, files and a few other things. He didn't show me the master bedroom, "Nothing in there you need to see," he explained, "It's just a bedroom."

 Then he showed me the single room at the front. It contained a couple of four drawer filing cabinets, both of which were battered, bruised and empty, and several more cardboard boxes full of palaeontology shit.

 "Right," I said, "I've seen enough."

 We headed back downstairs and I took up residence on his sofa once again. This time though, he settled down on the sofa next to me, but positioned himself at the other end, leaving a large gap between us. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles, then put his hands behind his head and said, "So? What would you do?"

 I took a sip of my drink and gathered my thoughts. I made sure not to look at him as I knew that would just set me off thinking about kissing him again. Besides, those eyes of his seemed to be able to drive all rational thought straight out of my head, "Okay. I can see that you don't have a telly, so clearly this room would be best suited as an office. For one thing, that room upstairs is far too small for you. What with all the reference material you have. I would use the upstairs room as a box room, but I would keep the filing cabinets in there."

 I pointed into the dining room, "I'd reorganise that area into a lounge/dining area. With only one person living here, I don't suppose you need any more space. This room... Get a few bookcases in. Tall ones to maximise the storage space and then sort all your books in order."

 "Anything else?"

 I looked at the Mac, "Is that connected to the University?"

 "Yes. I've got WiFi and the University uses an online document sharing system."

 "Do you spend a lot of time traipsing about?"

 His brow crinkled, "What do you mean?"

 "I mean, do you spend a lot of time in the countryside doing palaeontology stuff? Digging up dinosaurs and whatnot."

 He smiled indulgently and his eyes sparkled, "Yes I suppose I do."

 "Then you should get an iPad, one with a mobile connection. You'd have access to all your info from anywhere."

 "Anything else?"

 I looked around, "Yes. These walls could do with a coat of paint, and when did you last hoover your carpets?"

 Nathan laughed out loud. His teeth were pearly white and even. I found myself strangely gratified that I had made him laugh. What was it about this man? Why did I find myself so eager to gain his approval?

 His laughter died down and then he said, "Manni. I like you. Tell me, you've done the MS Office courses. Any others?"

 I nodded, "I've done a shorthand and a typing course and I've just about completed a basic bookkeeping course."

 "Ideal. Do you want a job?"

 I was startled, "What?"

 He gazed at his hands briefly as he tapped the heels together, I was beginning to understand that this was his habit when deep in thought, eventually he said, "I'm not sure why, after all I barely know you, but... We seem to click. I need an EA and I think you would be ideal."

 "EA?"

 "Executive assistant."

 "You want me to be your secretary?"

 "No, I'm offering you the job of my executive assistant. It's more than just a secretary. The money's better too."

 "Why are you doing this?"

 Once again his eyes held me in place like I was a butterfly pinned down in display case, "Honestly? I'm not sure. It's just... There's something about you," he glanced up at the ceiling and I could move again, he continued, "That sounded way too creepy," his eyes sparkled as he returned his attention to me, "Wasn't meant to I assure you."

 I thought about it briefly. This was incredible! Could it be that my luck was changing for the better at fucking last?

 Could this be the escape from the dead end of being a barmaid and a cafe assistant? I glanced around the room and thought about the state of his office at the university.

 Sure, it was a massive amount of work to sort out the shitty state he'd got himself into, but once I sorted that out... How difficult could it be?

 I looked at him, "Okay. I'd love to. Thank you."

 He gave me a beaming smile and my nipples became as hard as bullets.

 What the fuck?!?

 Nathan said, "I have to be in York all day tomorrow, but maybe you could be here tomorrow evening at say...Eight? We'll need to do some paperwork and then we can have a proper chat about what'll be expected of you. Okay?"

 Still confused about how he was turning me on so much with just a smile, I could only nod my agreement and murmur, "Eight PM."

 We made our goodbyes and I left the house. I stood in the street and thought about catching the bus home, but my nipples were still fucking hard. I rubbed the front of my jeans surreptitiously and could feel that my panties were soaking. I was so fucking horny it was unreal.

 "Fuck it!" I said to myself, "Looks like Steve's getting lucky tonight."

 Decision made, I set off towards Steve's house, it wasn't all that far from here. As I arrived there, I saw the side gate was open and I could hear loud voices coming from his back garden. I made my way down the path and entered through the open gate, before I came around the corner of the house, I heard a drunken sounding voice say, "Oi Steve. You still shagging that fat nigger?"

 I froze. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

 I heard Steve's voice respond, "No need for that sort of talk... And yes I am if you must know. At least when I can't get a decent bird."

 "Ha! Braver man than me. It must be like fucking an African elephant."

 I was mortified. I knew that Steve wasn't my boyfriend, but I thought he was at least my friend. I felt the tears well up in my eyes. I was so... disappointed. So hurt that he could be party to jokes like that at my expense. I'd been in such a good mood, so happy, so fucking horny. But not now.

 FUCK!

 FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

 I wanted to rush into the garden and give that utter bastard a piece of my mind. But I didn't. I simply turned around and walked away to the bus stop to go home.

 I cried myself to sleep that night. It should have been such a happy day and Steve had fucking ruined it!

 I was still in a bad mood when I woke up the next morning. I hadn't slept well and was feeling very tired. Still, I thought to myself, at least I had the new job to look forward to. That was at least a bright spot in my life. An opportunity to try and drag myself out of the shitty place I was stuck in.

 I got to the cafe and let them know I was handing my notice in. The manager couldn't care less about me working off the rest of the week, so she just told me to work my shift and then bugger off. There were always students looking for part time work.

 Suited me.

 I also rang Romeo's and told them not to expect me back there. Same story. This new job working for Nathan was my golden opportunity and I wasn't going to waste it. It looked like I was burning my bridges, but I really couldn't give a fuck. They were both dead end jobs and I was sick of them. I needed a challenge, I needed to be stretched and being Nathan's EA seemed like just the ticket.




Midnight Ch. 03



I'll admit it, the day dragged like a bastard. I couldn't wait for eight o'clock to roll round. So eager was I, that I actually found myself walking along Hall Road at half past seven. I'd finished work and then sat in a local pub with a pineapple juice until I just couldn't wait any more.

 I arrived at his house and saw that his car was in the drive, so I tapped on the door. He opened it, smiled and said, "You're early. I'm just finishing off my dinner."

 "Oh sorry," I replied, "I can come back later if you want."

 "No, it's fine. Come in, come in."

 We sat down at his dining table and I waited as he finished off the last of his Chinese takeaway. We chatted about this and that and he told me that he'd been to see a friend of his at York to discuss a dig they were both involved with down at Cheddar Gorge. Some sort of Neolithic settlement. The dig had been ongoing since the early 1980's and there was still a lot more to do.

 I mentioned that I'd handed in my notice and was available to work immediately.

 After he was finished eating, Nathan offered me a drink and then we sat down on the sofa. He went into more detail about what my job would entail. Taking notes and producing the minutes of weekly meetings that he held with his students and colleagues, creating Power Point presentations based on notes that he provided. Probably scribbled down on scraps of paper, that I would have to turn into easy-­to-­read typed scripts.

 I'd also be responsible for controlling his diary and making sure that there wouldn't be conflicts between the various digs he visited all around the world. Travel, hotels, car hire, you name it, I'd have to organise it. Not only that, but I would also be the funnel for all his correspondence and as I gained experience, try to filter the wheat from the chaff so he didn't get bogged down.

 I would be controlling his professional finances too, and would be required to report back to his accounting company, Farquharson, Daniels & Jones.

 To be honest I was beginning to feel a little intimidated at what would be involved and was less than certain of my own abilities. But I was also determined to make the best of it and do my damnedest to make it a success. If only because it meant spending time with Nathan... Eh? Did I just think that?

 As the evening wore on, we started to chat about other things. He went into a bit more technical detail about Cheddar Gorge, which sounded like 'Flurgle blurgle plomp whomp', but I just smiled and nodded. Nathan was actually very easy to talk to, we really did just seem to click. The only time I had any difficulty speaking was when he directed those fucking gorgeous eyes at me. More than once we found ourselves simply staring at each other in silence for long, embarrassing seconds.

 Nathan looked at his watch and exclaimed, "Shit! It's nearly midnight, where did the time go?"

 "Really?" I asked in surprise. I too had let the time slip past without noticing.

 He jumped up from the sofa and grabbed a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to me along with a pen, "I forgot. You need to fill this in so I can send it off to the accountants."

 "What is it?"

 "Just a basic form so they can bring you on to the company payroll."

 I completed all the impertinent questions and handed it back to him. He read through and then looked at me, "Usiku Wa Manane Mwenye? That's a name and a half. I can see why everyone calls you Manni."

 I laughed, "Saves time. We're all busy, busy executives on the go."

 Nathan sat down at his desk and completed the employer section at the bottom of the form. As he worked he asked, "Your name... Does it mean anything?"

 Here we go, I thought, am I going to get the usual jokes? I said, "Yes. It's Swahili and it means midnight."

 He murmured, "Midnight... Mid... night... Mmmidnight," almost as though he was rolling it around in his mouth checking the flavour, he went on absently, "It suits you."

 "What do you mean by that?" I asked more sharply that perhaps I intended.

 Nathan spun round in his chair and gave me a long meaningful look. I began to shiver slightly and wondered once again just how he could affect me like he did. He said, "Not because of your skin, if that's what you think."

 Suddenly embarrassed, I stuttered, "I d... didn't... I... I wasn't... I mean-­"

 Without warning, he leapt up out of the chair and ran upstairs. I could hear him banging about until he returned carrying a pair of the biggest pair of binoculars I'd ever seen. He motioned me to follow him outside into the back garden. It looked more like an overgrown rubbish dump than a garden. Nathan was clearly not the green fingered type.

 "Look up and tell me what you see," he said.

 I shrugged, "The night sky. The moon. A few stars."

 He searched the sky briefly and pointed at one of the tiny dots of light, "Tell me what that is."

 "A star?"

 "No. It's Jupiter. You can tell its not a star because it isn't twinkling. What you can see is the light from the Sun reflecting off it and reflected light doesn't twinkle."

 I was puzzled, "Ooookaaay."

 He looked through the binoculars at Jupiter and used the dial to focus, then he handed them to me and said, "Have a look at it through these."

 They were a lot heavier than I expected, but I hefted them up and viewed the planet. It didn't look much different to me, but I could just make out four other very tiny pinpricks of light in line with it.

 He said gently, "What you can see are four of Jupiter's moons."

 Nathan took back the binoculars and pointed them at one of the constellations. He fiddled about again and then handed them back to me. He said, "See that collection of stars? That's Orion the Hunter."

 I laughed, "Everyone knows that. I've seen Men in Black."

 Nathan grinned and then went on, "See the leftmost star on Orion's belt? Look about one finger width down and left from it and tell me what you see."

 Still not sure what point Nathan was making, I did as he asked. After a couple of seconds I saw it. My mouth fell open and I nearly dropped the binoculars. Luckily he managed to catch them. I took them back and looked again, "What the fuck is that?"

 "That," he murmured, "Is the Horse-head Nebula. Pretty good huh?"

 I handed the binoculars back.

 He said, "Understand? Use your naked eyes and all you see is darkness with a few dots of light here and there. You see very little of what's actually in the midnight sky. Use these binoculars and you get to see the hidden depths."

 I shook my head in confusion.

 He continued, "When I first saw you I just saw a beautiful young cafe assistant. But now look, after just a few short hours I'm seeing that there's more to you than meets the eye."

 He thinks I'm beautiful?

 He pointed straight up and said, "Hidden depths," then he touched my forehead with his fingertip, his touch once again caused me to shiver slightly and he repeated the words, "Hidden depths. And I think there's more still to discover... That's what I meant when I said your name suited you."

 He took one last look up into the sky and then turned to go back into the house, "Come on Midnight, finish your drink and then let's get you home."

 What the fuck? That cheeky bastard just called me Midnight! Nobody calls me Midnight! I was fuming! I was really... not... angry... at all. In fact, when he called me Midnight... I liked it.

 I finished my drink and then he loaded me into his car to drop me back at my flat. Nathan insisted on walking me to my front door, but as we approached the entrance to the block, a figure appeared out of the darkness behind us and an ugly voice slurred, "The nigger's back. Brought your customer home?"

 We both spun round and saw the acne scarred skinhead who had attacked me. He was swaying slightly and his eyes were glassy. I could see that he was either very drunk, or more likely very high. I grabbed Nathan's arm to stop him squaring up to the thug and asked, "What do you want?"

 He leered at me and replied in a slurred voice, "Maybe I want your cash, or maybe I want to see what it's like to fuck a monkey," he slipped a wicked looking knife from his back pocket and waved it around, "Or maybe I just want to open you up and see what's inside."

 Nathan stepped quickly forward and pushed the skinhead sharply on the chest, making him fall heavily on to his backside, "Run!" he said.

 I pulled the door open and we hustled inside. Nathan followed me up the steps to my flat. As we were halfway up I heard the skinhead shout up the stairs, "I'm coming Nigger, I'm gonna have to operaaaaate!"

 We could hear his heavy boots on the concrete steps as he chased us, the sound spurred us on to greater speed. We reached my front door. I scrabbled for my keys and in my panic couldn't get the door open. We could hear the shouting getting nearer. I finally got my fingers to work and opened the door, we fell inside and Nathan slammed it shut behind us. He rushed around the place looking for something to use as a weapon and shouted, "Call the police!"

 There was a loud thump as a boot kicked my front door, then another, and another. I heard the shout, "Gonna fuck you, Nigger!" and then the thudding again. By this time, Nathan had found my bread knife in the kitchen and stood just inside my lounge doorway watching the front door rattle in its frame.

 I knew there was no point calling the police, not for trouble on Orchard Park. They wouldn't get here in time, even if they actually fucking bothered! I was panicking and called the only person I could think of.

 The other end of the line seemed to ring for ages and I could hear the front door was beginning to crack under the onslaught, and still the thug was shouting his threats. Nathan was shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously, and I could see his knuckles were white as he held the bread knife tightly in his hand.

 Eventually I heard a sleepy voice answer the phone, "Huh? Whazzat? Do you know what fucking time it is?"

 I screamed down the line, "Alan! It's Manni! We're in trouble! He's trying to kick my door in! Alan you gotta help! He's got a knife!" I was sobbing now, "Please help!"

 Alan was instantly awake, "Hold on Manni. I'm coming!"

 The line stayed open as Alan had clearly just dropped his phone. All we could do was wait and watch fearfully as the front door started to give way at the hinges. Suddenly I heard a gravelly voice shout, "WHAT THE FUCK? YOU DARE PULL A FUCKING KNIFE ON ME?"

 We could hear shouting now and sickly thuds that sounded like large fists hitting a soft body.

 Then there was screaming. Suddenly the front door flew open the wrong way as the hinges snapped and the skinhead's unconscious body flew backwards through it to land in a bloody heap, one arm was held out oddly and was bent in a right angle halfway between the elbow and wrist. Alan followed it inside. He was dressed only in his boxer shorts, great coat and a pair of trainers. He launched himself forward and stamped heavily on the skinhead's blood covered head, "MOTHERFUCKER!"

 Alan turned towards Nathan and shouted, "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" as he stormed forward flailing his giant fists. I grabbed Nathan and pulled him back so that I was between them and cried, "Alan! He's with me! Alan! Alan! He's with me!"

 That calmed him down, but he was still breathing heavily. He looked down at me, "Are you okay, Manni?"

 I nodded as I too tried to calm my breathing. Then Alan turned towards Nathan, "What about you, Mate? You good?"

 Nathan looked like he was in shock as he simply nodded and let the knife fall from his numb fingers. Alan grabbed the unconscious thug, dragged him out of the flat and kicked him down the stairs. Then he came back into the flat and asked, "You two sure you're okay?"

 I looked at Nathan as he sat heavily on my sofa with his head in his hands. I was distraught. I couldn't believe it. I really thought my luck was changing, but first it was Steve and now this!

 Nathan had offered me a fantastic opportunity and I had done nothing except put his life in grave danger. I knew that there was no chance now of Nathan wanting anything to do with me. Not after this!

 I felt my eyes start to fill with tears, I whispered quietly, "It's not fair."

 The tears started to flow and my voice quavered as it got louder, "It's not fair! It's not fucking fair!"

 I couldn't help it, I started to sob and fell back on to the sofa next to Nathan, I covered my face with my hands and started screaming, "I can't do this any more! I FUCKING HATE THIS PLACE! IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!"

 My body was shaking uncontrollably as I struggled to breathe. My eyes were streaming and I could feel my nose and throat blocking up with mucus, but still I needed to scream, "ONE CHANCE I HAD! ONE FUCKING... SHITTING... BASTARDING... CUNTING, FUCKING CHANCE! AND NOW IT'S GONE!"

 I screamed.

 A wordless, primal roar of despair and rage.

 I felt a pair of arms enfold me, I had no idea whose. I buried my face into a shoulder and continued to howl. The arms just continued to hold me tight as the sobs racked my body.

 I knew I was stuck in this shit hole... This nightmare... For the rest of my fucking worthless life. I couldn't help but whimper, "I'm not a bad person. What did I do to deserve all this? What did I fucking do?"

 I felt the arms release me and I fell back on to the sofa. My hands covered my face as I cried. In the distance I could just make out a conversation.

 "You pack her some clothes. She can't stay here any more."

 "Have you got space for her?"

 "It'll be a squeeze but I can manage."

 "Tell you what, she can stay at mine. I've got plenty of room."

 "If you're sure."

 "Fucking right I'm sure. I'm not gonna let her stay on this estate any more."

 "Okay. I'll nip back to mine and get some clothes on. Then we'll get her and her stuff to your car."

 I heard noises, but they didn't really register, I felt a pair of huge arms gently lift me up and carry me like I was a baby. Dimly I heard voice say, "I'll be back for this fucker! I know who he is and I know where he fucking lives!"

 I heard the dull thud of a foot striking a ribcage and Alan's gravelly tones, "Cunt!"

 I was slid onto the back seat of a car and the door closed. A voice said, "You want me to come with you?"

 "No, I think we'll be okay."

 "You look after her. She's my best friend."

 "I will."

 An engine fired up and the I felt the car move. Some indeterminable time later, the sound of the engine stopped and I felt an arm tug me gently from the car. I was led upstairs and placed on a bed, someone threw a duvet over me and I felt a hand stroke the hair back from my face. The light went out and I drifted off to sleep.

 I woke late the next morning and looked up at a ceiling I didn't recognise. It wasn't covered in cracks for one thing and for another, it had many cobwebs. Raising my head I saw that I was in a bedroom full of cardboard boxes and then it all came rushing back to me. I sat up and looked around, then I crawled out of bed and made my way downstairs. Nathan was in the kitchen making a pot of coffee, he looked at me, "You okay?"

 I nodded briefly and then said, "I'm sorry."

 "What for?"

 "For all the trouble last night. For putting you in danger."

 "Don't be silly. It wasn't your fault."

 He offered me a mug of coffee and I spooned three sugars into it.

 "Where are my clothes?" I asked.

 He waved towards the lounge, I grabbed a couple of bin bags and just threw some stuff into them. They're on the sofa. We can go back to your flat today and get the rest."

 I shook my head sorrowfully, "No point. With no front door, the flat will have been stripped clean by now."

 "Oh."

 I placed my drink on the dining table, grabbed the bin bags, took them back upstairs and tipped them on to the bed to see what I had left. Five blouses, three pairs of jeans, seven skirts, one of which didn't really fit properly and couple of pairs of shoes, neither of which were my nicest ones. The other bag had a pair of trainers and the contents of my sock drawer in it. I couldn't see any underwear.

 Strangely, what upset me the most wasn't the loss of almost my entire wardrobe along with everything else I owned in the flat, it was the fact that I'd lost the fancy underwear that Erica had bought me. They were the only present I had received since my seventeenth birthday.

 I made my way back downstairs and finished my coffee in silence as I sat on the sofa. I heard a knock on the front door. Nathan answered it and then led Alan and Erica in to see me. I looked at Erica and burst into tears, "I'm sorry. I've lost the lovely undies you bought me."

 She rushed over and gathered me in her tiny arms. She said, "Never mind that. As long as you're okay."

 Eventually I calmed back down and brought my tears under control. Nathan made sure everyone who wanted one had a drink and then we took stock. Alan said, "I checked the flat... Empty."

 Erica asked me what clothes I had and when I detailed what I had upstairs, Nathan was flustered, "Sorry. I didn't think. I just grabbed a couple of armfuls. I didn't realise the flat would be gutted."

 "It's okay," I replied.

 "No it's not okay! It's my fault you haven't any clothes, so it's my responsibility to replace them."

 I shook my head, "No, I couldn't ask you to do that."

 Nathan grinned at me and fixed me in place with his eyes, "Good job you didn't ask then. So now I have to do it. And I won't accept no for an answer."

 "Okay. Thank you... I'll pay you back, I promise."

 He grinned. "Nope. Call it one­off clothing allowance."

 "I couldn't."

 "You can. You will. That's where this conversation stops."

 I found myself grinning back at him, "I'm not gonna win this one, am I?"

 "No, Midnight. You're not."

 Alan, flopped down next to me on the sofa and we chatted about what had happened and what I was going to do. Nathan wandered back through to the kitchen and put a frying pan on the stove for bacon butties. Erica followed him and I could see them talking quietly in the kitchen as he fried the rashers of bacon.

 Alan said, "So how come he's allowed to call you Midnight? Don't think I've ever known you allow that."

 I smiled, "I just like the way he says it... The way he means it."

 Alan looked like he was going to pursue it, but decided against it and merely shrugged. To be honest, I was pleased about that. The reason I liked it felt deeply personal to me. Very private, too private for even Alan to know. I couldn't explain it, but I wanted to keep it between me and Nathan. It was special. It was ours.

 The chat moved on to other things until Nathan and Erica came back in. He carried a plate piled high with bacon butties and Erica had a tray with four more mugs of coffee. They set the breakfast on the dining table and Nathan said, "Come on, dig in."

 As we ate, Erica said, "Manni, I'm taking you shopping when we're done here. You need a new wardrobe."

 Alan grimaced, "I hope I don't have to come. I've better things to do than be dragged around the shops."

 She laughed, "You don't have to. Me and Nathan have already sorted it out."

 After breakfast was done, we all piled into Nathan's car. It had to be explained to Alan, that we needed Nathan's car because the boot was bigger. That surprised me and I wondered just how many things I was going to buy today.

 When we got to the city centre, Nathan parked up in the multi­storey car park and then handed the keys to me, "You can load the car when you're done to save you carrying it all about."

 We made our way out to the High Street.

 END OF CHAPTER THREE



Midnight Ch. 04



No Sex until chapter 7 - VirtualAtheist

*****

Nathan popped into the bank and returned with a fat envelope, that he handed to Erica with the words, "You don't need to spend all of it, but I don't mind if you do."

Erica examined the contents and her eyes widened slightly, then she squared her shoulders and declared, "Right! Me and Manni are gonna spend, spend, spend. You boys can go and do whatever you want," she glanced at her watch and continued, "We'll meet at the Green Ginger Man at say... Half five?"

Alan's eyes lit up, "Sure! Come on Nathan."

With a wave, the boys buggered off, leaving me and Erica together, "Ok, where first?" I asked.

"First thing, we'll get Nathan's bits done."

She led me to an outdoors type shop and dragged me inside. I must admit, I was nonplussed, "What are we doing here?"

"Nathan's instructions. We're replacing your wardrobe, but he insisted we need a few things from here. So I'm getting it out the way and then we can have some fucking fun!"

I laughed. I still found it funny when Erica swore.

Anyway, we bought two pairs of heavy walking boots, several pairs of thick woollen socks, a Fair Isles jumper and some heavy shirts. when Erica started looking along a rack full of corduroy trousers, I exclaimed, "Cords? I don't wear cords! Why can't I have some jeans instead?"

Erica grimaced, "I know they're not pretty, but Nathan was most insistent about getting you some cords. You'll have to ask him why."

"Okay, I suppose."

Anyway, that was the beginning of a wild spending spree. We picked out dresses, jeans, shoes, a few smart business outfits, slacks, skirts, some lovely, dressy blouses... You name it, we bought it!

Erica paid cash for everything and refused to allow me to see the receipts. However, more than once, I'd seen the telephone numbers being displayed on the shop registers as my new clothes were rung in, and asked in dismay, "This is too much. How much money did he give you?"

She patted me on the cheek and said, "He gave me an envelope full of never you mind."

We stopped off at Marks & Spencer's and Erica grimaced as we sorted through the underwear section. More than once, she would hold up a bra in my size and offer her professional opinion, "Yuk! Think I'm gonna be sick."

For some reason, she only bought me a couple of pairs of panties and one bra, and wouldn't be drawn on why we bought so little.

I found out why two days later when a parcel was delivered the house addressed to me. Puzzled, I ripped it open and found a box labelled Rigby & Pellor that contained ten deliciously sexy bra and panty sets in a variety of colours. Oh boy! From that day on, I never wore any other undies, and the Marks and Spencer's crap went straight in the bin!

I stopped wearing tights too! Far too yucky for my new undies. Hold up stockings all the way for me, from now on!

Anyway, The last shop we visited was Boots, I needed toiletries and whatnot after all, and this hair doesn't get that lovely shine all by itself you know!

Then, weighed down with bags, we eventually made our way to the the car, dropped off our shopping and headed over to the Green Ginger Man.

As we entered, I saw Alan and Nathan sat at our table deep in animated conversation. Nathan had his back to us, he looked over his shoulder and waved. Then Alan noticed us and smiled as we approached. Nathan stood up and said, "I just need to pop to the gent's then I'll get your drinks. What are you having?"

As Erica sat down next to Alan, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek and threw Nathan a slightly puzzled look, before answering, "Half a lager and lime please."

Nathan smiled and then directed those fucking eyes at me. Once again I couldn't help but shiver slightly as I answered, "I think I'll have a white wine please."

He nodded and then headed over to the gents. He had a bit of difficulty, there were a group of people in wheelchairs that had taken over a couple of tables near the door leading to the toilets, so it was a bit of a squeeze.

I sat down and sighed, before telling Alan about the shipping order of clothes in the car and he politely pretended to care.

As we chatted, I felt the famiiar itch between my shoulder blades and glanced over at the toilets, to see Nathan coming through the door, looking over at me as he shook his hands dry. He had to wait for a short while as the disabled party were making their preparations to leave and took up all the walkway between the tables.

I turned back to Alan and Erica to see her looking at me strangely, "How do you do that?" she asked.

My brow furrowed, "Do what?"

"How do you two know when the other one enters the room?"

I sat in silence for a moment. Did I? Nonsense I decided, it was just coincidence, nothing more.

I answered, "I dunno what you mean."

She didn't seem satisfied, but simply said, "Okay. If you insist."

Nathan had reached us by this time and placed our drinks on the table, and the chat continued.

Someone ­ I don't know who ­ suggested that we have a meal, so we did.

The food went down nicely, the wine flowed and the chat was fun. At some point in the evening Erica declared that Nathan was our D'Artagnan, seeing as we were quite obviously the Three Misfiteers.

Oh how we laughed... Well we were tipsy. That is, all of us except Nathan, seeing as he was driving.

Me and Nathan decided to leave Alan and Erica to it. They were in the mood to tie one on and get a taxi back. Alan would leave his car at our place... Our place? I'd only been there one night and it was only temporary until I could find another flat, so why was I so quick to think of it as our place? Anyway, Alan's car would stay at ours and he'd collect it tomorrow when he was in a fit state to drive.

Nathan wanted to get back and read a couple of articles. Besides, tomorrow I wanted to start earning my pay as his EA, so I thought it best to be fresh for the morning.

We made our goodbyes and Erica left us with the words, "Nathan, if she offers you bacon and cream cheese bagels for breakfast, say yes!"

I agreed that it was a good idea, so I made him stop off at the 24 hour garage for bagels and a pot of Philadelphia. After unloading the car at home (home, hee hee) we left all the bags in the dining room, except for my toiletries, undies and my new thick bath robe that were taken upstairs and thrown on my bed.

Then I made a couple of coffees and placed one on Nathan's desk as he sat there reading Palaeontology Today or Digger's Digest or whatever the fuck it was. I took a sip of my drink, then grabbed a pen and a sheet of printer paper and started making a list of everything I needed to do to sort out the rubbish tips that were Nathan's house and office.

I asked, "Which do you want me to sort first?"

"Sorry?"

"The office at the university or," I waved my hand around vaguely,"This shit pit?"

He laughed and replied, "The office first. I'm giving a lecture tomorrow afternoon, so I have to be there. Besides, it'll give you a chance to meet some of my colleagues and students, and we can get your admin done."

"Okay. Dress?"

"Jeans and a casual top will be fine. We don't stand on ceremony unless there's a big visit on."

"Cool."

Nathan spun round to face me and asked, "Do you drive?"

I shook my head without looking at him, as I scribbled out my 'to do' list, "Sorry. Why?"

He replied, "I think it'd be best if you were mobile. There'll be times when we travel about and it would help if you could share the driving," he stared into space briefly and continued, "Best we see about getting you a car as well... Once you pass your test, that is."

I looked up at him in surprise, "Really?"

He nodded.

"Nathan... All these things. The job, letting me stay here, the clothing and now driving lessons and a car... Why are you being so nice to me?"

Yet again I was transfixed by his diamond drill gaze, he said, "I see something special in you, Midnight. I can't quite explain it, but I think you'll be a great asset to me, so I need to make sure I look after you."

For some reason I couldn't put my finger on, I found myself stung by his words. An asset? Is that all I was? A tool? Merely an employee? I know it was silly of me, after all it wasn't his fault that he affected me like he did. I don't think he even noticed to be honest, although I found it strangely warming that he said he needed to look after me. Even if I was just an employee.

Taking care that I gave no sign that I was disappointed, I forced myself to smile sweetly, "Thank you."

He grinned, "No charge," and then returned to his magazine.

As we headed up to our rooms that night, he bid me goodnight with a phrase that was to become a feature of my life. As I pushed open the door to my room, he murmured, "Sleep well, Midnight," as he entered his own room, closing the door behind him.

The next morning, after we had feasted on bacon and cream cheese bagels, we walked into the Earth Sciences Building. He introduced me to the shared secretary, Paula, a somewhat overweight, middle aged woman. She had jet black hair that flowed in curls down her back and a cheeky smile permanently etched on her face. She was very friendly and personable and, I discovered, gossip central for the entire university. She always knew who was doing what to whom, and in some cases where, when and how often!

I liked her.

I met a few of the other members of the faculty, but I was unable to catch all of their names. Ah well. There was time for that. And I was also introduced to the two students that Nathan was mentoring. Luke Iverson and Allison McMasters. They were both in their middle to late twenties, which surprised me at the time.

Allison had long blonde hair all the way down to her backside, she was usually all smiles, bubbly and with a pretty, girl­next­door, fresh beauty, with a slim and leggy frame. Luke on the other hand was less to my taste. He seemed somewhat arrogant and supercilious. I imagine he could have been considered handsome, what with his mop of unruly dark hair and hazel eyes. But only if his attitude was adjusted.

Over time, I would become friendly with Allison, but Luke... Not so much. I knew he didn't like me, but for once, it wasn't because of my colour. I just think he thought I was not quite good enough, not quite bright enough to associate with the big brains of the Palaeontology Department. I noticed that he didn't have much time for Paula either.

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first. I had many forms to fill in for my University ID. I wasn't staff, I was an employee of Smethwick Palaeontology Services, but I would need access to the library, the computer system and a door card so that I could access the Earth Science laboratories.

After that was all done, I rolled my sleeves up and got to work sorting out the office. All the books were ferried out and placed in piles along the wall in Paula's office. The paperwork was simply gathered up and just dumped in a pile on Nathan's desk. That made it awkward for him to work, but hey, we all have to make sacrifices.

With guidance from Paula about who was who to speak to in order to get shit done, I had an extra desk, chair and telephone delivered by Works Services, and an order was placed for a PC for me. Unfortunately that would take a couple of days, but I wasn't terribly fussed, I had loads to keep me busy. All of the tickets and paperwork regarding travel and accommodation was piled in my shiny new in­tray and then... Then I could make a start on getting those fucking books sorted out!

We stopped for lunch and grabbed a quick sandwich at the campus coffee shop, then it was back to the grindstone. Sort the books into piles alphabetically and then place them on the bookcases.

And that was my first day as an Executive Assistant.

That night, after hearing the words, "Sleep well, Midnight," from Nathan as he sat working away at his Mac, I went to bed knackered and slept like a dead woman I can tell you.

The following day, I finished off putting the books away and then cracked on with the papers. I filled my desk and the floor with paper as I tried to make sense of which pages went with which.

More than once, Nathan need to help me as they weren't all page-numbered or labelled with the file name in the bottom left corner. That was fucking annoying and I wasn't shy about telling him so!

Nathan had the decency to blush and agreed that from now on, he'd make sure his documents were formatted properly. Anyway, once they were sorted properly, I stapled them together and put them into alphabetic order.

Job done?

Nope!

Then I had to sit at Nathan's PC and see if I could find them on the harddrive or in his shared directory on the University servers. I found most of them. So the ones that could be binned, were binned and the others were placed in a lever arch folder so that they could be recreated on the computer over time as a 'when I have a minute' job.

The next few days were spent at home making it 'more like summat and less like nowt' as we say in Yorkshire. I must admit that it was a slower job and ended up taking more than a few evenings as well. Not only was there so much more crap to clean up and sort out, but I also had to go mad with Nathan's business debit card on Amazon. Bookcases, replacement filing cabinets (his were broken), a desk and chair for me, a few bits and pieces of stationery and of course, my own Apple Mac. The Mac was more expensive than a PC I know, and I wasn't being greedy, it's simply that a Mac is so much better for the jobs I needed a computer for, and it took up less space on the desk.

I also bought his and hers iPads and iPhones... For when we would be out and about as Nathan said we would be as time went on, and showed him how to work them... Then showed him again.

Like I said, technology really wasn't his thing.

Once the furniture was in place, I could then link all of the electronic toys together.

Then it was the same routine as per the office at the University.

Nathan, I discovered, was something of a workaholic and more than once he would be working until 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning. Or at least he did, until I started taking more and more of the admin that was bogging him down off his hands, but he still put the hours in.

The tickets and travel documentation was sorted out and filed. I created the spreadsheet to start controlling them properly and the returns started being delivered to the accountants in a timely fashion every month... I received a very nice thank you card from them for that.

I also took on the task of going through the constant stream of emails. I didn't feel able to make any decisions about request for his attention at projects around the world, so I simply collated them into lists and passed them to him, so that he could decide which ones he responded to... Which was most of them.

Then I'd be online booking, trains, flights, hotels and hire cars.

Life was busy, life was good... On the whole.

I'll never forget my first pay packet either. Initially I thought there had been a terrible mistake, but Nathan looked it over and saw nothing wrong.

"I'll never spend all that!" I cried.

Nathan explained gently, "Look you're not a secretary or a personal assistant. You're an executive assistant and that carries more responsibility and more pay. Over time, I expect you to take on more authority and become part of the decision making process. Obviously, I'll let you get your feet under the table first. I know you're at the bottom of a fairly steep learning curve."

Well! I did the only thing I could do. I went straight out and bought new hair straighteners and an electric Ladyshave that I could use in the shower. Oh yes! I know how to live the high life, me.

Ooh ooh! I almost forgot, I also spent two hours every Tuesday and Thursday behind the wheel of a red Mini Metro, learning to drive.

At least once a month, I'd sit in on a staff meetings and take the minutes. And also the weekly informal get together with Nathan and his students, record the minutes in shorthand and produce a printed reports that would be kept as a record of their progress. Nathan also needed me to create PowerPoint presentations and the scripts to go with them. The technical wizardry required to import images and create bullet points were absolutely beyond him.

Call me petty, but I was secretly proud of being better at some things than Nathan, what with him and his brain the size of a planet.

But the best thing, the absolute best thing about my job was spending so much time with Nathan.

We would sometimes chat as we worked and sometimes we would sit in complete silence beavering away on what it was that currently had our attention. But it was always a comfortable silence. Sometimes, as I was creating a presentation, I'd feel his eyes upon me, I'd pause, glance at him and offer a shy smile. He would simply stare at me for a long moment, return that half smile of his and then go back to his work.

And every time I felt his eyes on me, I would shiver. Sometimes, brief images of a carnal nature would flit across my imagination and I would have to shake my head to return my concentration to my work, and at the same time ignore my hardening nipples and the dampening of my panties.

I wish I knew how it was that he could affect me like this. But I never dared imagine that the feelings might be returned. It would be too risky to even try to find out. After all, what would I do? Declare my affection with flowery words? Throw myself on him and cover his face with sloppy kisses? Really?

And what if I was wrong? What if I embarrassed us both?

I'd be mortified!

And I know that he wouldn't be able to keep me around. Not only would I be risking my job, but I would also be risking my home. And make no mistake, the house I now shared with Nathan was my home. I had only been there a month or so and I already felt more comfortable than I ever had at Orchard Park.

No. Nathan could never know how I felt about him. It was painful to me, but that was the way it had to be.

I still remember the first time I hugged him. It was completely impromptu and improper but I just couldn't help myself. I had just passed my driving test and when I told Nathan, he insisted on dropping everything and taking me into the city centre to buy me a car.

I know, right? He was buying me a fucking car!

So I threw my arms around him for a massive hug. And was both excited and disconcerted at the same time. I disengaged with as much dignity as I could muster, and was unable to look him in the eye as I murmured, "Thank you. You don't really have to get me a car you know."

He simply replied, "Yes I do."

We arrived at the used car showroom, I didn't expect or want a new car, so I started looking over the second­hand, little hatchbacks and whatnot.

Nathan gave me a strange look, "What are you looking at those for? You need to be looking over here."

He indicated the other row of vehicles, which were all 4x4's. My expression must have spoken volumes as he explained, "You'll be coming with me to some digs from time to time, so you need a car that can carry a big load, also, we may need to travel cross country to get to some of them and a poxy little Mini won't be up for the job."

I was wide­eyed and wetting myself as I looked over the row of mighty beasts in front of me... And then I saw it... I saw the car I wanted. It was an old Vauxhall Frontera. 2.5 litres of diesel monstrousness in the most lovely shade of dark blue. It was a really old one, you know the square body that looked like a box on wheels and it had a huge chrome bull bar on the front. But best of all, a previous owner had added silver flame decals down the sides. I fucking loved it!

Nathan laughed, "You know Vauxhalls are crap, don't you?"




Midnight Ch. 04



"Don't care!"

He sighed, "Okay."

We went inside and he did the deal. When he viewed the documentation, he laughed uproariously, "I don't believe you picked your car because of the colour."

When he showed me, I laughed too. The colour was listed as Midnight Blue.

"See? It's fate," I giggled.

I love that car. I named it Mofo because that's exactly what it is. A big, blue motherfucker!

Sometimes we would travel out in his car and usually share the driving. But the Mofo has one driver and one driver only... Me!

Unlike Nathan, I also kept my car spotless. And never, ever allowed him (Mofo is a boy) to miss a service. The fluids and tires are checked weekly and he gets washed and hoovered every month. My Mofo gets pampered, which is why I am still driving him to this day. I love my Mofo and he loves me... He does love me!

Anyway, life went on.

My social life suffered, there was no more going out with the girls, partying and shagging about.

And to be honest, I didn't miss it... At all. My life seemed to revolve around Nathan. It was almost as though I had cleaned up my act for him, like I was seeking his approval, like I wanted him to see that I was every bit as good as he seemed to think I was. The only thing that didn't change was my regular get togethers with Alan and Erica, and occasionally I would be able to drag Nathan along with me. After all, without me, he'd have absolutely no social life at all, apart from infrequent cocktail parties at the University.

One night I turned up to meet them at the Green Ginger Man and it was obvious that they were really getting along well. The clue was the rock the size of Texas on Erica's left hand.

I was fucking made up! Kisses and hugs all round and I insisted on hearing how Alan proposed.

"It was so romantic," beamed Erica, "We were at Mario's Restaurant and in front of everybody, he went down on one knee and said 'set phasers to marry me'. I held out my hand and answered 'engaged!'"

I gagged, "You infected my bestest friend with dweebyness! I won't forgive you for this. Fucking Trekkies! Shouldn't be allowed."

Then it was hugs and kisses all round again.

Another bit of news that night was that Erica had received her appointment at a clinic in London for her operation. She explained that it would be a two week stay in the clinic followed by another four weeks at home to recuperate. I promised that I'd make time to come and see her when she was back.

Life went on.

I got along fairly well with most of the people in Earth Sciences and I even stood in for Nathan sometimes on the weekly meetings if he was away out gallivanting around the place. The only flies in the ointment were Luke and Professor Johnstone, a twat who worked in Geology.

Both of them were the most arrogant and rude arseholes. Luke had a habit of either ignoring me completely when he came in the office and insisted on speaking directly with Nathan, who never seemed to notice Luke's rudeness, or when he absolutely had to deal with me, his attitude sucked. He made it perfectly clear that I was considerably beneath him. More than once I saw Paula mouth the word 'Twat' behind his back as he exited the office area.

Professor Johnstone had the same air about him. He wandered into our office one day for a chat with Nathan. He licked his fingers and his first words ever to me were, "You there, get me a tea would you? White, no sugar."

Nathan stared at him for a moment and then looked across at me as I sat in shock at this bloke's rudeness. He said, "Midnight, take your coffee break now. Give us twenty minutes would you please... And close the door behind you."

I snatched up my bag and legged it to the coffee shop.

I was mortified!

Apart from Luke, everyone had been so nice to me, especially Allison and Paula. My problem was, I didn't know how to combat it. I didn't know how to stand up for myself.

Okay! I admit it, these people intimidated me. I still felt like a fish not just of water, but halfway up a fucking mountain. I felt I was somehow beneath them, that they were so much better than me, because they were busy dealing with great mysteries and issues that I could never hope to understand. And what was I? A glorified clerk, besotted with a man who was clearly beyond my reach.

When I got back to the office, The twat had gone and Nathan was sat working at his desk in silence. He glanced, knee­tremblingly at me, but didn't speak. He merely gave me that smile and continued with his work.

I later found from Paula, that Nathan has surprised her by directing some very harsh words at Professor Johnston in quite forceful tones, who then left with a massive flea in his ear. The twat had reason to come back to the office for various reasons over time, but he never again spoke to me except when he absolutely had to, and then only in the coldest, most formally polite terms.

I started putting names to faces and more importantly I got Nathan organised so that he was able to concentrate on his actual job rather than get stuck dealing with administration.

I worked some fucking long hours, but I had never been happier... But it wasn't to last.

You see the thing is, as I took away the drudgery that was bogging Nathan down, it freed more his time for palaeontology and he filled it. There were more and more weeks away on various projects around the world. If he wasn't down at Cheddar Gorge he was jetting off to to Alberta in Canada or on the other side of the World to New Zealand and all points in between. Not only that, but his working hours at home started to creep back up as he worked on one important paper after another well into the early hours.

As I had pretty much set my routine in place and had organised everything to my satisfaction, I was now finding the time to start reading some of the articles and papers in the office. Don't get me wrong, almost all of them were very much over my head, but I did start to soak up snippets of information on various different aspects of history, archaeology and palaeontology, especially with the assistance of the reference manuals and glossaries of technical terms.

Sometimes, I would find myself staring into space daydreaming. There I was, striding across the Olduvai Valley dressed in a safari suit and pith helmet, discovering features and fossils that would unlock the history of man's evolution from Dryopithecus to Cro­Magnon, or perhaps wrapped in furs as I directed my team of diggers to chip the woolly mammoth from the permafrost, or even in a drysuit, deep in the Aegean Sea getting my hands on the Antikythera mechanism, that wonderful, mysterious device from Ancient Greece that shouldn't exist.

You see the thing is... Knowledge is like a drug to me. The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn. I suppose you could say that I was trying to fill the void caused by Nathan's frequent absences, and you'd be right. At least partially right anyway. But my thirst for knowledge was always there. A hunger that needed to be fed.

Once, I remember I was reading an article entitled 'A Closer Look at Lucy: Sexual Dimorphism and Speciation in Australopithecus' when Dr Murtaugh, the head of Earth Sciences wandered past the office. He looked in and glanced at the title over my shoulder. He was a lovely, old man and very gently suggested that perhaps it was a little beyond me. He then scribbled down a list of books available in the library that might be better suited for a novice.

He was right. They were.

When Nathan was at home, I could see that he was tired and there seemed to be just a tinge of sadness in his eyes. Those magnificent eyes that continued to make me weak at the knees.

More than once I would chide him that he needed to learn to say no. That he didn't need to accept every invitation that came his way. But he would simply give me that smile of his, now tinged with a hint of melancholy... And accept them all anyway.

His lecturing dropped off as more and more of them would need to be covered by other staff. And there was definitely beginning to be a disconnect between him, Allison and Luke.

Oh we still communicated. When he was home, I made a point of staying up with him as he worked, more for the company than for any real need on my part. And I always kept him up to date on what was going on when he was away. We video chatted via Skype, usually in the evening. Normally the conversations would start out as all business, but we found ourselves wandering off into other areas. Late at night, I would sit up in bed with a mug of hot chocolate and my iPad, chatting with him. The darkness made a cocoon of intimacy beween us, and I found that I was more comfortable telling him things about myself, sharing details of my life that had led up to this point. I don't know why, I just found it so easy and so comfortable to open up to him. He was a good listener.

It wasn't lost on me, that over the weeks and months I always seemed to share more than he did.

Oh I found out that he had a twin sister called Philippa, that his widowed mother, Hattie lived in a large house in Royal Buckinghamshire and ran her own business called Harper­Smethwick Holdings (Holdings) Ltd and that his father had died when he was ten years old ... But that was pretty much it. He was free and easy with information about his career history, but the personal stuff... Not so much.

Me on the other hand, I was an open book. I spared him nothing... The loss of my parents, how I ended up working at the cafe and at the bar, my reputation as a slut, how I met Alan and Erica, everything. The only thing I never mentioned was Erica being a hermaphrodite. That was her secret, and it wasn't my place to share it.

Sometimes as I looked at his face on the iPad, I would gently stroke it with my thumb as we chatted. And he always signed of from our calls exactly the same way, "Sleep well, Midnight."

The thought occurred to me once, that it was strange how we could could talk to each other so easily over Skype, but not when we were together in person. Don't get me wrong, we talked whilst he was home, but it seemed... How can I put this?... There seemed to be a distance between us when he was home, conversation seemed to be restricted to work and somehow stilted, almost as though we really had nothing to say to each other. But when he was away and we chatted over Skype, work seemed to take second place to our more intimate chat.

I got the scary feeling that maybe he had picked up on my feelings for him and he was attempting to keep things on an employer/employee basis, but also that he wanted to remain friendly... Even if it was only when we were apart. Is that strange?

I'll be honest, it was getting to me.

One day, I arrived back home from the university and stood in the home office looking around.

Nathan had been away for a week and wasn't due back for another few days, and I realised that even with my busy lifestyle, my full working days dealing with people in Earth Sciences and talking to Nathan on Skype... It was just like Orchard Park... I was fucking lonely!

"Fuck it!" I thought, "I need to go and get drunk."

So I had a shower, climbed into my professional drinking kit and buggered off to the city centre to one of the louder and more raucous pubs. I was well into my white wine and feeling no pain, when he walked up to me, "Well look who it is," he smirked, "Long time, no see."

I turned around on my barstool and looked straight into the face of Steve Metcalfe.

I'll be honest, I was less than chuffed to see him after what I'd heard the last time I had been at his house, and was quick to tell him fuck off and leave me alone.

He seemed genuinely astonished at my outburst, "What's the problem? What did I do?"

So I explained in graphic detail what I'd heard that night when I went to see him.

Steve was crestfallen and seemed upset about it. He said, "I'm sorry about that, Manni. But I didn't insult you."

"No!" I shouted, "But I didn't fucking hear you defend me either!"

"Well if you'd stayed a bit longer, you might have. I ripped into him for that. Just a shame you never heard it."

Well that was it. He turned on the charm, bought me a few more drinks and soon we were thick as thieves again.

Blame it on my loneliness, or my drunken state, or on the fact that I could be a fucking idiot, but the end of the night found me in his bed getting fucked senseless. He gave me several orgasms, but the mood was not sensual. He was very rough on me that night. There was no tenderness, no gentle caressing. The only way I could describe it is... He hatefucked me. Almost as though he was teaching me a lesson, for not being available lately to satisfy his needs on demand.

Also when he finished, he rolled over and said, "Look Manni, that was good. But I need to be getting up early tomorrow. Let yourself out, eh?"

Then he farted, rolled over and fell asleep. The man was a walking fucking cliché.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

I rolled off the bed, climbed back into my clothes and walked home despising myself all the way there. I didn't know why, but for some reason I felt like I had somehow been unfaithful to Nathan. I mean, I had no clue if he viewed me as anything more than an employee and perhaps a friend, and to be honest I was too frightened to ask. But there it is.

I got home and showered. I wanted to wash away the stink of sex from my body. I didn't want to share my bed with any trace of Steve. As I lay down, I picked up my iPad from the bedside table and saw three missed Skype calls from Nathan and that made me feel even worse.

I couldn't believe it! I had foregone time with Nathan, even if it was via the Internet for some tawdry, meaningless, painful and ultimately, unsatisfying sex with Steve fucking Metcalfe.

And then I had an epiphany.

These unfamiliar feelings. My need for Nathan's approval. I knew why I was so upset about shagging Steve. I finally understood why Nathan affected me the way that he did.

I had fallen in love with him.

I was deeply, irrevocably in love with Nathan and I hated myself for fucking that arrogant, selfish bastard when I should have been on Skype with the man I loved.

This was terrible! Even when my life seemed to be on the up and up, I'd find a way to fuck things up.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

My mood remained black for the next few days, I buried myself in work, reading articles and Skyping with Nathan. He never asked why I hadn't been there that night and I never told him... I couldn't.

Then the day rolled round that Nathan was home again. As he walked through the front door, it took everything I had to greet him with a friendly smile and to hide just how awful I felt. I was determined that there would be no clue... No hint of just how much I despised myself.

And then... After just a few minutes in his company I was walking on air. One look at Nathan's sweet smile and a glance at those fucking eyes and I was lost... Until the time he had to go away on a trip, as I knew he inevitably would.

As it happened, his next trip out was just a short jaunt to York University. He was going to give a talk entitled, The Discovery of Paralititan Stomeri - A Giant Sauropod to the students of a friend of his and he invited me to go with him.

The reason was that he was unfamiliar with their presentation suite, so he felt it better that I would go with him and control the electronic bits and bobs. I was very excited. Would you believe that in all my life, this would be the first time I had left the City of Hull?

Anyway, we jumped into his car and headed out. I made sure that I had a flash drive with his presentation on it along with a DVD holding a couple of short films. When we arrived at the Science Department at York, we were met at the door by the force of nature that is Dr Diana Pranaju.

As we approached I saw a rather attractive woman of about 5'2" dressed in a smart blouse and skirt. I guessed her to be somewhere in her early forties with brunette hair in a short style, not quite long enough to be a bob, that hung to about halfway down her cheeks and the ends pointed forward like daggers. She had a somewhat curvy figure, but there was very little spare weight that I could see. Her hazel eyes sparkled with intelligence and sharp wit. I could tell that this woman was not a person you wanted as an enemy. She had a thick Yorkshire accent. Not like mine, after all, the Hull accent, whilst clearly a Yorkshire dialect, is different enough from the rest of Yorkshire to make it unique.

She smiled warmly and threw her arms around Nathan, "Good to see you again. Been too long!"

He grinned and returned the hug, patting her on the back gently. I felt a twinge of jealousy shoot through me as I watched them, wishing it was me in his arms and not her.

He released her and then made the introductions, "Diana, this is Manni, my EA. Midnight, this is my good friend, Diana."

We shook hands and she gave me a quizzical look, "Why did he call you Midnight?"

I grinned, "Long story. Very boring... Call me Manni."

She shrugged, "Okay," and then led us into the building to the lecture room. I looked over the stacked system built into the lectern, switched it all on and readied the DVD and presentation.

Then I placed myself on a chair off to one side of the stage holding the remote control for the stack system.

People started drifting in and took their seats. Once the room was about half full, and everyone who was coming were seated comfortably, Diana made the introductions and then let Nathan give his lecture. I was following the talk on a printed script and called up the images and videos as per the cues. I'll admit that I felt somewhat self­conscious sat there on stage in front of all those people, but Nathan seemed well at ease.

I'd noticed that about him. In a social setting he could be something of a wallflower, especially with people he didn't know, and rather reticent about talking... But put him in a professional situation and he shone.

Anyway, the lecture went well and then he fielded a few questions from the floor whilst I retrieved the flash drive and DVD and switched off the equipment.

Then we disappeared off to a cafe on campus with Diana for a bite of lunch. As we sat there chatting I learned more about their relationship. Diana had been on the board that had grilled him when he had to defend his Doctoral thesis. She had recognised something special in him and they had become firm friends. Nothing romantic, I was very pleased to hear, simply good friends. I think she was his 'Alan'.

Nathan had to excuse himself to nip to the gents, leaving me and Diana alone. She sat in silence as though she was studying me and after an excruciating pause, said, "So, Manni... Enjoying your job?"

"Oh fu... I mean, yes indeed. I love it."

"He's a good man. I hope he's looking after you like he should... And that you're looking after him."

I'll be honest, I was more than a little uncomfortable and then, thankfully I got itchy between the shoulder blades, I turned to look at Nathan as he approached and flashed him a smile.

He sat back down and the conversation turned to other things. I must admit, Diana was a fascinating woman and I got the impression that she was a complete outlaw. Whilst the chat remained light, I did spot her flashing me a searching look more than once. Nathan, of course, never noticed.

The time came for us to depart, so we made our goodbyes. We both got a hug and she whispered into my ear, "Yes. I think you two look after each other just fine."

When I cast her a questioning look, she merely smiled and waved us away back to the car.

The next few days passed quietly as Nathan had more than a week before his next trip.

Also, by this time, Erica had come back from hospital, so one evening, I bought some flowers and headed over to her flat. Alan invited me in and led me up to see her as she rested in bed. I handed over the flowers, which she appreciated and chased Alan off for vase to put them in.




Midnight Ch. 04



"How are you feeling, Erica?"

She gave me a lopsided grin, "Could be better."

"Did it all go well?"

"Yes thanks. Although I'm not feeling terribly comfortable."

"Why?"

"Well for one thing you should see the nappy I'm wearing... And another, I love him dearly, but Alan is like a mother hen right now."

As if to prove her words, Alan reappeared with the flowers in a vase that he placed on the bedside table, before he started fussing over her. Was she comfortable enough? Did she need a drink? Pillows need fluffing? Should he empty her catheter bag?

Erica grinned and held out her arms to pull him into a hug, "Alan please calm down. I'm recuperating, I'm not a complete invalid," a thought occurred, "Although I am a bit hungry. You don't fancy nipping out for a Chinese, do you?"

After he left, Erica flopped back on her bed and sighed heavily, "I swear to fucking God, he's gonna kill me with kindness."

We laughed and then were soon deep in conversation. Don't ask me what about... It was girl talk, although she did give me a few details about her operation, and at one point pulled back her duvet and pulled up her nightie to show off the nappy she was wearing. I could also see a catheter pipe coming from the leg and leading down to a plastic bag in a frame at the side of the bed. She told me that she was stuck in bed for the next couple of days, but hopefully she was healing and the catheter could be removed and she could get a smaller dressing.

Another bit of good news was that the operation wasn't quite as difficult as it could have been. Her female reproductive organs were complete and apparently fully functional. Her male parts on the other hand were not. They were not connected in any meaningful way regarding procreation.

There were complicated issues with her male urethra, but that had been dealt with and she had been told not to expect any problems. Erica was especially pleased that her clitoris was complete, both external and internal.

"I'm looking forward to exploring my G spot," she crowed, "Not only that, but they told me that they saw no reason why I shouldn't be able to get pregnant," her eyes moistened, "I can give him a child."

"Is that on the agenda?"

"We haven't talked about it. We haven't been together long... Even though it just feels so fucking right! Still, let's not run before we can walk, eh?"

I grinned, "I'll bet you and Alan are looking forward to getting back at it."

Erica blushed a deep red, "Actually, we haven't done it yet... I've never done it, I'm still a virgin."

Somewhat surprised, I exclaimed, "What? I thought you two would be at it like rabbits."

She took on a serious demeanour, "No... Nothing below the waist for me. Alan couldn't handle it. He said he wanted to wait until nothing was there that shouldn't be."

"Oh. So you haven't even..."

She flashed me a cheeky grin, "We've been getting by. Mind you, I'm getting restless now. Week four can't come soon enough for me."

I laughed, "I'll bet!"

Then the conversation moved on to other things until Alan returned with the food. We all sat on the bed and munched, chatted and giggled the evening away. I must admit, it was a very nice way to pass the time.

A few days later I was sat at my desk at the University, I was working my way through the emails, making a list of the requests for Nathan's services and organised them in the order of priority as far as I could along with dates, locations and reasons he was required. Once I'd created the list I printed it off and dropped the sheet on to his desk.

Nathan stopped typing to glance at the list. He perused it briefly and said, "Okay. Yes."

Puzzled, I replied, "What do you mean, yes?"

"Well, yes. I'll do them."

Nathan turned his attention back to his screen and began typing again. I was annoyed now, "You can't accept all of them," I picked up the paper and read down the list, "Look. Some of the dates overlap. You can't be in New Zealand and Greece at at the same time."

He held out his hand for the list, ran his eyes over it and then handed it back to me, "No problem. I can go to New Zealand for two weeks, fly over to Greece for three and then travel straight back to New Zealand for the remainder. I even have a window at the end so I can stay there a couple of weeks extra if needed. What's the problem?"

I was annoyed, but swallowed my temper as best I could and sighed heavily, "The problem is, you need to learn to say no."

"You've said that before. Why?"

Without thinking, I shouted exactly what was constantly at the forefront of my mind, "BECAUSE I NEVER FUCKING SEE YOU­"

I bit off my words, but it was too late, they hung in the air between us, I could feel my skin warming in embarrassment and Nathan stared at me in shock, his fingers resting limply on his keyboard.

Time seemed to stand still. Without thinking, I had inadvertently blurted out what was on my mind, something that should have remained my deepest secret. Neither of us moved, but I could hear a slight rustle of paper as my hands shook. The only other sound in the room was the relentless tick, tick, tick of the old clock hanging on the wall.

I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and I turned my head to watch as Paula slid from behind her desk. She was blushing furiously as she quietly closed the door of our office.

I looked down at my hands. I couldn't face Nathan, but I could feel his unblinking gaze on me.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my hands to be still and then stammered, "I... I mean... Your students never see you."

Nathan still said nothing so I continued, "You have to cut down on your expeditions. In the past five months, you've spent about twenty days back here. If you're not working on a dig in the arse end of nowhere then you're down at Cheddar Gorge... You're running yourself ragged," I glanced at him, "You always look so tired. There's no point employing me to do your admin, if you're just going to overfill your days with more work!"

I sat down back at my desk and placed the list in my pending tray and said, "It's not fair on you, me or especially your students. Allison and Luke need you. You're supposed to be their guide... Their mentor. And you can't do that if you're not here!"

Nathan returned his attention to his screen and tapped a few keys before he stopped and murmured, "You see me all the time over Skype."

I placed my elbows on my desk with my hands together as though in prayer and rested my forehead on my thumbs. I took a deep breath and rolled my head to look at him. I murmured softly,"It's not the same."

Again we were staring into each other's eyes. And for once, Nathan was the first to look away.

The atmosphere was thick with emotion and I felt like I was choking. My chest felt tight and I couldn't breath. On the verge of tears, I snatched up my bag and headed for the door, "I'm going to take an early break. I need some air."

As I passed Paula's desk in the outer office, she mouthed, "Are you okay?"

I flashed her an embarrassed smile and nodded briefly, before I hurried out of the building and over to the campus coffee shop.

Sitting at one of the tables, I watched my caramel latte go cold as I swirled the froth aimlessly with a little wooden stick. I knew that I had probably ruined everything. Nathan wouldn't be able to let me continue working for him. Not after this.

There was somebody behind me and I knew who it was. I could feel his eyes upon me. Then I heard the squeak of rubber soled shoes on the plastic flooring as he approached. His hand rested lightly on my shoulder and sent a thrill down my spine.

"Fuck!" I thought to myself again, "How does he do this to me?"

Nathan said, "Maybe I should learn to say no."

As I heard him say those words, I knew I hadn't blown it. Everything was going to be okay. I hadn't just put myself out of a job. Placing my hand on top of his, I couldn't stop my head from tilting so I held both our hands in place with my cheek, "There's no 'maybe' about it."

"Come on," he said, "Let's get back and sort out my diary."

Which is what we did. Thereafter, Nathan agreed to a lot fewer digs, and spent more time with his students... And me.

END OF CHAPTER FOUR



Midnight Ch. 05



I must admit, I was a lot happier over the next few weeks to have Nathan around. We both visited Alan and Erica at the flat instead of meeting up at the Green Ginger Man as well. She was soon up and about, although she remained in her nightgown. But I was pleased to see her steadily improve.

When I popped over on my own a few weeks later, Alan was at work and Nathan was in Cheddar Gorge for a short visit, Erica answered the door. She was wearing a nice dress and a fucking huge smile.

"What's flicked your switch?" I asked.

She dragged me inside and said, "The wine's chilled and we have to talk."

As I flopped down on the sofa, it hit me. This was week four. Erica came in from the kitchen carrying a bottle of white and two glasses. My smile was as broad as hers, "Okay," I said, "Spill it! Was it as good as you hoped?"

Erica giggled, "Oh Boy!"

We got absolutely wankered. Alan had to stay at his own flat that night as I, clearly in no fit state to drive, shared the bed with Erica again. This time, we actually did watch Titanic.

Anyway, life went on.

Work continued apace, Nathan was involved with a symposium that was planned for this month, where delegates from all over the country were going to descend on Hull University. According to Nathan it was really just an opportunity for a bit of networking and a piss up with fellow palaeontologists, but it needed a few talks and lectures to lend an air of legitimacy to the proceedings. Obviously as Nathan was heavily involved, then I was too.

Also, Nathan informed me that Diana would be attending and he'd invited her round for an evening whilst she was in town. My only duty with regard to that was to make sure we had plenty of Laphroaig whisky in the house. I bought two bottles, which is just as well. Fuck me! For such a little woman, she can't half knock it back.

Anyway, the Symposium happened, it was a success and I was popular apparently. I'm guessing more for the cleavage than my palaeontological knowledge.

Funnily enough, it was the symposium that put the idea into my head. I spent three days with the world's supply of palaeontologists, and although most of what they said went straight over my head, I understood enough to know that I didn't understand enough, and that I wanted to understand more. I mean I really wanted to understand more.

After all, the brief glimpse I had seen of it all, helping Nathan, reading the text books and the articles. It was a fascinating subject.

We were sat at home working at our desks. I said, "Nathan, what do you think about me going for higher education?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean going for a degree."

He turned to face me, "To be honest, I'm all for it. A good education is a wonderful thing. But it'll be a lot of extra work. Would you be able to handle your job and all the studying?"

"Yes, I think so. I can fit my job around the courses. Long hours I know, but I've never been afraid of hard work."

"What would you study?"

"Easy," I smiled, "Palaeontology. I'm fascinated with it. Also I'd love to be able to understand what you are talking about for more than 10% of the time."

"Ah."

I frowned, "Ah? What do you mean, ah?"

"Midnight, you can't just go into palaeontology. It's a PhD level subject. You need to earn a degree in something else first."

"Like what?"

"Well, general earth science, geology or archaeology, and each one of those takes three years, followed by another year earning your Masters. Then you'd have to spend another three years earning your PhD... And that's if you get accepted. I don't think you understand just how much work is involved, or how expensive it can get."

I was crestfallen, "Oh. I didn't know that."

"I never said it was impossible. I just want you to understand that with a schedule of full time study and working for me, it would be a punishing schedule for at least seven years."

"Ah well. Forget it then."

Nathan gave me a searching stare and then said, "You really wanted to try, didn't you?"

I stared at my computer screen dejectedly, "Yes. I really did."

He grinned, "Then let's at least investigate it properly. Tell you what, you find out exactly what workload you'd have for whichever degree you want to earn and we'll see if we can work something out for you. Okay?"

"Really?"

"Yes. Really... Although there is one thing."

"What's that?"

"It won't be this year, because you'll need to pass your A levels first. You can do that at night school. Get that out of the way, three good passes and then talk to me again about a degree. Deal?"

I beamed, "Deal!"

That put me in a proper good mood, let me tell you!

An investigation of the degrees led me to plump for Archaeology. Contrary to popular belief, you don't need to go on digs, so it wouldn't mean extra time away from work, but also it was the one that interested me most.

However, Nathan was entirely correct, I had to complete my A levels before I could even contemplate a university course.

So, that was me signed up for English, Mathematics and History A levels at the night school. It was easy enough really, after all, the only change for me was that I simply had less time to read the unintelligible articles. But I knew that if I did pass my A levels and managed to study for a degree in Archaeology, it would be an entirely different matter.

Busy, busy, but life went on.

One day soon after that, I got a call from Alan asking if we could meet up with him and Erica at the pub that night. Apparently they had some big news for us. I realised that it had been nearly three months since we had a get together and I was embarrassed that I'd allowed things to slide, so I was quick to say yes.

I let Nathan know in no uncertain terms that his presence was expected as well. We had both been all work and no play and both of us needed some down time.

We turned up at the Green Ginger Man to see Alan and Erica already at our table. They waved us over and I could see that they were looking very pleased with themselves. We grabbed our drinks and then joined them. I noticed that Erica had a bottle of sparkling orange juice next to her glass.

The chat flowed as though we hadn't been apart, but there was definitely an excited undercurrent. Finally I couldn't take it any more, "Okay! Something's up and I want to know what it is."

Alan and Erica shared a smile and then Alan coughed and said, "We would like to know if you have any plans for the 10th of next month."

I pulled out my iPhone and checked the calendar, "Nothing that can't be rearranged. Why?"

Erica grinned, "Because I'll need a Maid of Honour and Alan will need a Best Man."

Two jaws hit the table and then it was squeals, hugs, kisses and handshakes all round. Nathan exclaimed, "This calls for a celebration. Who wants a drink?"

Erica quickly said, "Just a sparkling orange for me please."

Surprised, I grunted intelligently,"Eh?"

Impossible as it may sound, her smile became even wider, "I shouldn't drink in my condition."

It took a few moments before her words registered and then my eyes widened and yet again my chin hit the table, "Oh my fucking God! Really? How far along are you?"

"Yes really... About two months."

Then the screaming started.

I'll be honest. Neither Nathan, Alan or I were good for much the following day. Erica of course had no sympathy for us, but I suspect she was just jealous.

As it turned out, the wedding was a very small affair. It took place in a small church on Beverley Road, just along from the Parade. On the Bride's side were me, her mum and her second husband, now Erica's step­father, who I found out later at the wedding breakfast was a butcher from Grimsby, which is where Erica was originally from.

Who knew? I decided not to hold it against her.

Erica's Mum was a lovely woman, but I made it my business to keep on her good side and make sure there were never any blunt instruments within her reach.

On Alan's side were his parents, and a few of his mates who worked security with him. Him and Nathan looked very handsome in old fashioned morning suits with cravats and tail coats, and each of them wore a lilac rose in their buttonhole.

I was dressed in a lovely ivory and lilac dress with a floor length skirt and a rather daring neckline... Okay, I was spilling out of it. Satisfied?

The organist played the introduction to Here Comes The Bride and at the back of the Church Erica appeared on the arm of her step father. I've never seen a man look so proud.

But Erica!

What can I say?

She was a vision in white silk, holding a bouquet of white and lilac roses. Her dress was quite simple, cleanly elegant with a skirt that reached the floor. The bodice hugged her figure and it was long­sleeved with a high neckline. I could see she had a gold locket on a thin gold chain around her neck and her make up and hair were simply exquisite. The whole ensemble was topped with a gauzy veil that draped over her face.

She was achingly beautiful.

Even the jaded hardmen on the other side of the central passage were enthralled as she made her way up the aisle to stand next to Alan in front of the Vicar.

The service was quite short and then we retired to the Swan Hotel for the wedding breakfast.

Nathan made quite a hit with his speech and with the aid of some embarrassing stories supplied by a few of Alan's colleagues, completely destroyed the reputation and character of the groom.

Then everybody (except Erica) got absolutely wankered! My word, but those doormen can put it away!

A few days later, Alan and Erica went away on a two week Honeymoon to Gran Canaria. I have to say, Erica came back with a lovely tan but I couldn't help pointing out that she had a way to go to catch up with mine... Well I laughed anyway.

For Nathan and I, life went on. Oh and I started my A level courses at night school. To be honest I didn't find the extra workload to be too onerous, seeing as I had already done a year's worth of work for them in my youth, and after a few evenings, it all started to come back to me.

I was quietly confident that I'd pass them quite easily. But having investigated the workload for the Archaeology degree, I must admit that I was having second thoughts about it.

It was a normal day in the office, I'd just finished typing up the minutes to the monthly staff meeting and Nathan was reading through a paper that Allison had written, when the phone rang.

I could hear one half of the conversation but wasn't paying much attention. Nathan said, "Hello..? Hi Diana, what are you after..? Really..? Of course I will... When..? I can get there this evening, there should be a pub with rooms nearby... Really? Okay, I'll get there for tonight and be ready to work tomorrow... Yes... Okay, see you later... Bye."

"What was that about?" I asked

"That was Diana, she's asked if I want to help her with something."

"Oh. Okay."

I felt the familiar sensation of a diamond stare burning its way through me, so I turned to face him and asked, "What?"

"Do you fancy coming out on an overnighter?"

"What for?"

"Well, I just thought you might like to see what I do in the field."

I smiled, "Cool! Where are we going?"

"It's at a village about an hour and a half, north of York, called Drydenthorpe."

"That'll be nice. What is it we'll be looking at?"

"Tell you what, let's get home and pack a bag. I don't have all the details, but Diana's going to meet us at the pub where we'll be staying and she can fill us in."

So that's what we did. After we'd packed overnight bags, Nathan told me, "Okay. Dress is walking boots, cords and a warm top. Bring a jumper and a waterproof coat."

"Cords? Do I have to? Can't I wear jeans?"

"No. We always wear cords in the field."

"But I don't want to. Cords don't suit me."

"We don't wear them to make a fashion statement. Besides, I'm sure you'll look lovely."

"They make my bum look big."

"Oh, stop it! You have a lovely bum and they'll set it off nicely."

"Cords smell like warm sick."

He laughed, "They do not, you liar!"

He paused a moment and then said, "Midnight. You wear the cords, or you don't go... Don't you want to see your first real human skeleton?"

That stopped me in my tracks, "Really?"

"Yep. That's what we're going to examine."

"Yeah! But, why cords? Horrible bloody things!"

"Cords are more weatherproof than jeans, if they get wet they aren't as uncomfortable and also, jeans can waterlog and get very heavy. So, cords! Now!"

"Okaaay!"

I wore the cords. When I got back downstairs, I gave him a twirl. Feeling brave I twinkled, "So... Do you really think I have a lovely bum?"

He didn't answer me, but he did blush furiously.

And I was right, new corduroy actually does smell like warm sick.

Anyway, we hit the road a few minutes later, Nathan set the SatNav and after about an hour and a half, we were pulling into the carpark of the Drydenthorpe village pub. I'll be honest, it was a lot bigger than I was expecting and very old. Clearly it was an old coaching house and had one or two outbuildings that I took to be barns and another set on the other side of the main building that was clearly a stable. The sign hanging from a pole by the entrance to the carpark said 'The Hanged Man'... Which was nice.

I was surprised to see such a large set up for what was merely a village pub, but I later found out that it had fifteen rooms, as the area had several tourist attractions, as well as many tracks and trails that were very popular with hikers and mountain bikers. In fact business was so good, the landlord was thinking of converting the barns into more accommodation. The stable was a listed building, as was the main public house, so no changes could be made to it.

Diana met us at the front door and led us into the public bar. After we'd booked a couple of rooms, we settled down at one of the tables. It was distressed, as was every other stick of furniture in the place.

The walls were bare stone and there was a huge fireplace with a cast iron frame for holding the coal as it burned. The walls were decorated with the world's supply of horse brasses and the bar had several pewter mugs hanging from hooks above it. I didn't know if they were purely decorative or if they belonged to regulars.

Diana said, "Right. There's a huge spur called Offa's Finger that runs east to west just north of the village. It's a lot bigger than the others, most of which are about five or six miles long and maybe half a mile wide. Offa's Finger is nearly fourteen miles long and over two miles across at it's widest. Anyway, a local farmer owns some land that reaches across it and he let a mining company blast their way in."

"Why?" I asked.

"Apparently, their surveyors thought that there could be some minerals or possibly even coal in it. So they blew a huge lump out of the side, about 400 metres long and about 100 metres in. Then they dug it out. Turns out the surveyors were wrong and they found bugger all."

Nathan said, "The farmer let them destroy his field?"

Diana replied, "He wasn't using it. Apparently no good for crops and the side of the finger is too steep anyway, even if it was. The only grass that'll grow there is useless for grazing. So he just left it fallow and collects the EEC subsidies. Anyway, after the miners all buggered off, he went to have a look at it all, and found a human skull embedded in the side of the scar about two metres down from the upper edge. The police have already been informed and they've posted a guard up there. They've also marked out a path with mine tape. Then they called me."

I was surprised, "Why did they call you? Why not CSI or Quincy or whoever."

Nathan grinned, "Midnight, it works like this. If human remains are found in these circumstances, the police cordon the area and then call in the experts at retrieving them... The palaeontologists. We examine the remains and determine the age. If it's more than a hundred years old, we get it. If it's less than a hundred years old, its treated as a suspicious and Forensics get the job. But either way, it'll be down to us to dig it out... It's what we do."

"Oh I see."

Diana nodded and then reached into her coat pocket for a small plastic bag. I saw that it contained a rusty and discoloured brooch of some kind.

She said, "I've already been up and had a quick look and I found this. It's a cloak pin and I estimate 9th century, probably Jute, but definitely Saxon."

Nathan took the bag and examined it closely, "Not really my area, so I'll take your word for it."

Then he passed it to me so I could have a look as well. To be honest, it didn't look like much to me, so I just passed it back to Diana.

Nathan asked, "What about permission?"

Diana replied, "I've had a chat with the farmer and he's agreed to let us dig up whatever we want, as long as we don't go south of the wooden fence that separates the Finger from his grazing fields."

She grabbed a menu from a wooden stand on the next table and smiled, "Anyway there's nothing to do tonight, so we may as well grab a meal and possibly a drink or two."

The next morning, bright and early found us pulling into a huge field with a wooden fence running from the road to the distance in the west. Most of the ground on the north side of the fence was churned up, clearly the result of heavy tracked machinery and huge dump trucks being driven over it. The ground where we were was fairly flat, but to the north I could see the steep slope up the side of Offa's Finger as it disappeared off in both directions, east and west, as well as the huge, gaping scar that had been blasted out of it.

There was a police transit van parked up, containing two very bored­looking policemen. Diana wandered over to them and provided her credentials as well as, I assume, vouching for Nathan and I. She was carrying a large backpack and Nathan had his leather roll pack that contained his trowels and brushes.

We made our way to the eastern edge of the scar, following a path that had been marked with white mine tape strung between metal poles that had been jammed into the ground. As we reached the blast area, I could see that it had been dug out almost flat, but the edges followed a sharp curve leading up to the top of the spur, and there was a trail marked out from the corner where we stood that followed as shallow a path as possible up to the top.

When we got there I saw my first ever real, live human skull... Well not live, but you know what I mean.

I'll be honest, it freaked me out just a bit. It's a strange thing to look at a wall of earth and stones and see a the face of a skull peering back at you.

Nathan started examining it closely as he unrolled his tool pack, whilst Diana shrugged off her back pack and then squatted down to dig out what equipment she needed.

"So," I asked, unable to draw my eyes away from the eerie sight before me, "What happens now?"

Nathan selected a trowel and answered, "We'll carefully dig around the skull and remove it from the soil, then we'll test the age before we do anything else."

"How do you do that?"

Diana answered, "Well, I've brought my sonic screwdriver and I'll use it to send a graviton pulse through the warp engines, so the Cylons can check that the photon torpedoes are in sync with the Bat Utility Belt."

Okay so she didn't say that... But she may as well have, for all the fucking sense she made to me!

Nathan patted his pockets briefly and then glanced at me, "Midnight, could you do me a favour? Nip back to the car and get my notebook, please. I left it in the glove­box."

I nodded, "No problem."

His attention returned to the partially uncovered remains, "Thanks."

I made my way back down the path and along the track towards the car. I glanced down as I was walking and something caught my attention. I stopped and took a closer look at a small round protrusion in the hard packed earth. As I examined it, I noticed another similar rounded lump nearby, and then another, and another. They were all the same and were equally spaced. I scuffed away the soil between two of them with my foot, and saw that they were connected by what looked like a narrow, curved plate of... something.




Midnight Ch. 05



My face screwed into a frown. It was odd. I quickly made a knot in the mine tape that lined the edge of the track so I could find it again, and collected the notebook from the car.

When I returned to Nathan, I handed him his notebook and asked, "Can I borrow a trowel please?"

Nathan and Diana both looked at me. He said, "Course you can. What for?"

"Well, you'll probably think I'm silly, but I saw something down at the bottom and I just want to have a closer look at it."

He shrugged, slipped a stiff brush and a small trowel from his roll and handed them to me. With an indulgent smile he said, "Knock yourself out."

I could see that Diana wore a similar expression as well.

I'll be honest, I found their manner a bit upsetting. Feeling like a little girl being indulged by her parents, my face was sullen as I accepted the tools. I turned to make my way back down the path, stopped and faced them, "I just want to have a look at something. There's no need to be so fucking patronising."

As I stalked away, I heard Nathan behind me shout, "Midnight, wait!"

I stopped and let Nathan and Diana catch up with me. He grabbed my arm sending a shiver down my spine. I felt his fingers twitch as he held me and saw a strange expression flash across his face, before it was replaced with his curious smile, "Nobody was patronising you," he said earnestly.

Diana piped in, "It's true," she shared a look with Nathan and then continued, "It's just that we think you've been bitten."

"What do you mean? Bitten by what?"

She grinned, "You've been bitten by the Palaeontology bug."

They could both see that I didn't follow, so Nathan said, "Look. You've found something and you have questions, you want to know what it is. Could be something, " he shrugged, "More likely it's nothing. But you won't know until you look."

His pearly white teeth came into view as he gave me a broad smile, "Go and solve your mystery."

I couldn't help myself, I gave him a hug and felt him tense slightly and shiver. My nipples hardened and I quickly released him. Not quite able to believe I had just done that, I avoided his gaze and could see that he too was avoiding mine.

Diana watched the display and nodded to herself before she said, "We've got things to do, but we'll have a look when we come down later," she grinned, "Exciting, isn't it?"

She was right, it was. I really wanted to know what it was I'd found. I know it was probably just some entirely natural stone formation or maybe cow bones or something. But I really wanted to know. I hurried back to my mystery and thought that it wasn't the only thing that had excited me.

As I thought about my impromptu hug, I could feel my nipples were still crinkly and hard, not only that but my pussy was moist. A simple hug and I was so horny, so turned on by feeling Nathan's body pressed briefly against my own.

I arrived back at my discovery and thrust all thoughts of Nathan aside. I really wanted to know what this thing was. I squatted down and took a closer look at the circular objects poking out of the soil.

Taking my time, I used the trowel to carefully scrape the soil from around the points and discovered more and more of the connecting plates. Then I used the brush to clear the detritus from their surfaces.

I really had no idea what to make of it. I dug a little further along the line that the points made along the side of the track and just kept finding more. By the time I had found the last in the line, I estimated that it stretched about two thirds of a metre.

By now, I knew what they weren't. They weren't a natural stone formation and they weren't cow bones. But they definitely were the bones of... something.

Anyway, I set to work at one end of the line to see what else I could find. Slowly another shape came into view. It was an irregular shape and much larger than any of the other bones. It had a broad, almost diamond shaped plate with a circular socket in the thickest part of the bone.

Digging further along, I found nothing more, so I decided to dig a little deeper... And found what I knew was a vertebra.

Don't look at me like that! We've all seen a skeleton. I knew what vertebrae looked like. Anyway, my hands were beginning to shake a little. Diana was right. This was fucking exciting!

I used the trowel to clear more of the soil back from along the line of bones and could see more and more connecting bones and plates come into view.

I heard voices coming towards me from the path up the slope. It was Nathan and Diana heading back down. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was nearly six o'clock. I'd been at my digging for several hours. It occurred to me that I hadn't even had any lunch, but I didn't care. This was too exciting!

As they approached, I stood up and waved them towards me excitedly, "Come and see. You gotta see this!"

Both of them must have picked up on my excitement and immediately hurried over. I pointed at my handiwork, "Look! Do you know what it is?"

They both stopped and stared at my discovery. I was bouncing from foot to foot, "I found this. Is it good? What is it? Do you know?"

Diana's mouth fell open, she glanced at me and then stared in open wonder at the bones. Nathan had not taken his eyes from the display, he said, "Hylaeosaurus?"

Her head shook slightly as she replied, "This far north? I mean, certainly looks like it. Very small though."

I was almost beside myself, "What? Highly what?"

They seemed to ignore me as Nathan once again addressed Diana, "Must be a juvenile. But you're right, the only ones I've heard of were found in Sussex, never in Yorkshire."

I'll be honest, I could have punched the fuck out of both of them, "Grrr! Tell me! What is it?"

They shared a long moment, before Diana sucked her lower lip between her teeth and nodded.

Nathan turned to me and once again pinned me in place with his eyes, "Midnight, you've found a young Hylaeosaurus."

I shook my head slightly in confusion.

He said quietly, "You've found a dinosaur."

"YOU ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

I couldn't help myself. Without thinking I threw myself into his arms laughing. He automatically returned the hug and held me tightly with my face buried in his shoulder. I could feel him trembling slightly and once again my nipples hardened. They felt like bullets and I was sure he must have been able to feel them pressing into him even through our layers of clothing. Not only that but my panties were absolutely fucking soaking.

Without realising it our lower bodies pressed together and I was certain I could feel something hard pressing against my lower belly. I looked into his eyes and shivered in his arms.

Those eyes. Those fucking eyes!

They were sparkling like fresh spring water, burning blue and hypnotic, I couldn't look away. I couldn't tell what was going on inside his head, but I knew that he must ­ once again ­ be reading me like an open book. I moistened my lips with my tongue and hesitantly moved my face closer to his. My lips parted slightly and...

I came to my senses. What the fuck was I doing?

Suddenly chagrinned, I extricated myself and stepped away. He was my boss, nothing more. It didn't matter that I knew I had fallen for him. I would do nothing to ruin our friendship and our working relationship. I couldn't, I just couldn't. After all, I was merely an asset.

I looked at Diana who was just stood to one side smirking at me.

"What?" I snapped.

The smirk never left her face as she answered, "Oh, nothing."

Nathan cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the dinosaur, "Well, we'll need to get some more diggers here. This has just become a much more important place."

Diana looked from one to the other of us and replied softly, "Yes... I rather think it has."

We made our way back to the car park and Diana headed over to where the two policemen were sat in their transit van. I heard her say, "We've examined the skeleton. You can bugger off if you want, it's Saxon. No murders today."

The driver started up the engine, smiled at Diana and replied, "Thank God for that."

We watched the police drive away,then Nathan and Diana got on their mobiles to make the necessary calls to set up the site for an exploratory excavation. I was left to my own devices, until Nathan said, "Midnight, could you do me a favour? Take the car back home and pack a couple of suitcases, enough for at least two weeks."

"Eh?"

"Well we're not going to let Diana pinch your dinosaur."

Diana laughed and called out, "No fear. Hopefully, I'll have my hands full with the Saxons. You want the Hylaeosaurus, you get your own diggers."

Nathan grinned back at her, "Already done," he returned his attention to me, "When you drop the cases off at the pub, book another couple of rooms and extend our booking. I'll get Diana to drop me back there. Okay?"

I nodded, hopped in the car and headed back to Hull. It took nearly four hours for me to get everything done and travel back to the pub. Once there, I had a quick conversation with the landlord and sorted the rooms and reservations. I left the suitcases in the car and headed through to the bar to see Diana and Nathan deep in conversation at one of the tables. Nathan seemed to look into space momentarily and then looked up at me. He smiled and waved me over.

As I sat down next to him, he said, "Any problems?"

"Nope. The suitcases are in the car, we can take them up later."

"I feel a bit stupid."

"Why?"

"When me and Diana sat down to eat, I realised that you haven't had a bite since breakfast and I just sent you off on your errand. So I got the barman to make you up a sandwich... Drink?"

I smiled, after the excitement of the day, I realised that I was starving, "Lovely, thanks. White wine please," I glanced at Diana, "I don't drink much, but I think I'm allowed to celebrate today."

She grinned, "Definitely!"

We spent the remainder of the evening chatting about the dig sites and I'll admit it now, that sandwich didn't touch the sides.

The next morning we were all back at the car park waiting for the teams to arrive. I was sat on the tailgate of the car sipping a coffee from our thermos, whilst Nathan and Diana were deep in conversation. I'm sure that they knew what they were talking about, but to me it just sounded like 'murgle blurgle flobble whomp'. They may as well have been speaking Esperanto!

Anyway, about ten o'clock, two minibuses and a transit van turned up. They were from York University and it was Diana's team for the settlement buildings. I watched as she took control and directed them with their various tasks.

Nathan sat down next to me and accepted a coffee. We sat in silence as Diana and four of her students set up a 12x24 tent to house their admin and lab equipment. Two others struggled with a large diesel generator and dragged it into place. Whilst the last two unloaded trestle tables, plastic chairs and various metal boxes from the van and carried them into the tent, whilst Diana took a very pretty, oriental girl up to the top of the slope. They both carried heavy rucksacks and the girl held two large rolls of mine tape.

Whilst Diana's students turned this idyllic spot into a riot of activity, two further minibuses arrived.

I recognised Allison driving the first one and she threw us a beaming smile and a wave as the vehicle came to a halt. I waved back, but the grin left my face as I recognised the driver of the other vehicle. It was Luke.

Anyway, we headed over to greet them and started our own preparations. I say we, I mean they did...I just danced around the edges and tried to not get under their feet. I left them to put the tent up and just ferried boxes from the minibus.

Once it was up, we all started getting the furniture and boxes inside. Nathan was working on the generator, attaching cables and checking fuel levels as I carried a large case into the tent. I placed it just inside the flap. It was heavy and we needed to take a quick break. Nathan immediately snapped at me, "That's the ruggedised laptops. They're supposed to be at this end in the admin area. Try to keep up, would you, please?"

I bit my tongue and simply dragged it to where he wanted it.

Allison had walked into the tent behind me carrying a box of something or other and glared at Luke, "Why are you always such a dick?"

He sneered, "If Manni doesn't even know how to lay out an admin tent, " he glared at me, "Then maybe you shouldn't be here."

That upset me. Yet again, I felt two inches tall and had no idea how to deal with it. The way some of the university staff and students looked down on me because I was simply an Executive Assistant rather than one of the learned few of Academia. In the real world, I wouldn't have thought twice about standing up for myself in an argument, but for some reason, I just didn't know how to handle the bad feeling from these people.

I felt the pin prick of tears and quickly made my way out of the tent and back to the minibus. I grabbed a chair, but before I lifted it, I took a moment to wipe my eyes. I was determined not to let Luke know he had upset me.

Allison appeared at my side. She said, "Don't let him get to you, Manni. He's an arrogant prick. None of us like him you know."

She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, "Honestly. Everybody thinks much more of you than they ever did of him."

I smiled my thanks, but didn't speak. I simply continued with the unloading.

Once the tent was set up, all four of us headed over to my dinosaur. Allison had our mine­tape.

When we got to it, her eyes opened wide and a broad smile filled her face, "Oh wow! This is amazing."

Luke didn't say anything as he surveyed the scene, he merely shot me a dirty look.

We took the mine­tape and used it to break the site down into squares of about two metres a side. Allison placed a small stake in the corner of each one and hammered them into place, being careful not to go too deep and Luke followed her, attaching a laminated, alphanumeric card to each one.

The grid was centred on my bones and further mine tape was used to adjust the path around area. As we worked, Diana's students passed to and fro on errands of their own, in preparation of their investigation of the buildings and the Saxon skeleton.

I must admit, I was quietly pleased at the envious looks my dinosaur received.

Once everything was in place, it was time to start clearing the area. Allison settled herself into the square at the north­west corner marked A1. Nathan headed back to the admin tent to fire up the computers and began writing up the initial bits and bobs about the dig site. I followed him to borrow his digging tools, I was looking forward to uncovering more of my Highly Wotsit skeleton.

When I arrived back at the grid, I found that Luke had settled himself down and was already moving soil away from the neck vertebrae.

"What are you doing?" I asked, "That's my square."

He didn't even look up at me as he continued working, "This is a team effort."

"Yes I know, but I wanted to do this square. I discovered it after all."

He stopped and rested his trowel on the shoulder bone and glared at me, "You didn't discover it, Dr Smethwick did. You just found a bone. It was him who recognised it for what it is. You were lucky, that's all!"

"Well that's as maybe. This is my dinosaur and I want to dig it out."

Allison by this time had ceased her own work and was watching us as we argued.

Luke raised an eyebrow at me, "To be honest, I'm not sure why you're even here. You're not a professional palaeontologist. You're not even a student. You're just a secretary. Maybe you should stand back and let the experts deal with this."

Yet again, I felt under equipped to deal with the situation. Yet again, I was intimidated and unable to defend my position. And yet again, I felt the bitter sting of tears. This was my discovery and Luke was sucking all of the joy out of it. I retreated to the furthest square away from Luke and started to look at the ground there. I wasn't sure how to begin, but before I could do anything I heard Luke's voice again, "What's wrong with you?"

I looked at him, "What?"

He snapped at me, "You just walked straight across the grid! You're supposed to go round the edge. Don't you know anything? Why not just leave this too us? Go back to the tent and do whatever it is you're supposed to be doing."

I refused point blank to let Luke know he'd got to me. But I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to complain to Nathan, that would have felt like defeat. Before I burst into tears, I quickly stood up and rushed away back to the minibus. I sat in the back of it and couldn't stop myself crying. I'd been so fucking happy and Luke had spoiled it.

He'd ruined it.

END OF CHAPTER FIVE



Midnight Ch. 06



CHAPTER SIX

 I hadn't seen it, but Allison had watched me leave. Then she'd thrown her own trowel down in disgust and, ignoring Luke, followed me to the minibus. She said, "You need to tell Dr Smethwick. You shouldn't just let Luke get away with this shit!"

 "That'd feel like running to teacher. I'm supposed to be a fucking adult."

 "Rubbish! Dr Smethwick's your boyf­- your boss. If you can't go to him, then who?"

 "I can't. I just don't know what to do. Back home, it wouldn't be a problem, I just feel out of my depth."

 Allison gave me a knowing look, "Less than you think."

 "What do you mean?"

 She sighed, "I mean, you fit in better than you suspect. You're better than you think you are... Anyway, are you going to tell Dr Smethwick?"

 "I told you, I can't."

 She stood up and snapped, "Fine! Then I will. This can't be allowed to continue."

 All I could do was watch helplessly as she stalked toward the admin tent. I remained sitting in the minibus, unable to return to the dig and face Luke and even less able to face Nathan.

 A short while later, Nathan appeared in front of me carrying two plastic mugs of coffee. He handed one to me, which I accepted silently. Then he sat down next to me and placed his arm across my shoulders, causing the usual tremor down my spine.

 He said, "Midnight, why didn't you tell me what's been going on?"

 "I was embarrassed."

 "You have no reason to be embarrassed. And in fact every reason to be proud of yourself. Let's look at what you've done... You organised my life and made my workload so much easier... You make sure I'm where I'm supposed to be, on time and prepared... You're more than capable at covering the weekly briefings... Without you, my presentations would be complete crap," he gave me squeeze and grinned, "And now you've found a dinosaur. I should be your assistant!"

 I couldn't help but laugh.

 Nathan placed his hand on my cheek and gently turned my head to face him. His fingers felt so warm, I thought they would scorch my flesh... Until I realised that the heat was coming from me.

 The touch of his fingers teased me, excited me and made my blood boil in my veins. I really didn't understand how he could affect me like this and not know he was doing it. He fixed me with his unblinking gaze.

 Those eyes. Those fucking eyes!

 He said gently, "Listen to me Midnight. There is no shame in asking for help when you need it. And I will always be ready to help you. Okay?"

 Amazed at my own daring, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and smiled, "Okay."

 He looked quite startled and stammered, "I... Erm... Okay... I think you need to go back to your dinosaur and send Mr Iverson to see me at the tent please."

 As I made my back to the dig, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Nathan touching his cheek thoughtfully as he walked slowly across to our tent.

 I told Luke that his presence was requested at the admin tent and then settled myself back at my dinosaur and continued removing the soil. I could see that Luke had cleared away a lot of the soil going towards the tail, so I continued the motion, working to uncover it completely.

 Allison was back in her square using a griddle. I looked across at her and said, "Thank you."

 She grinned as she was shaking soil through the griddle and replied, "No problem. Maybe this will make the arrogant wanker change his attitude."

 I giggled, "Not gonna hold my breath,"

 About ten minutes later, Luke reappeared. He gave me a filthy look but didn't speak. He simply stalked past me, straight across the grid, and planted himself in the square labelled B1 next to Allison. I smiled sweetly at him and said, "Aren't you supposed to walk around the outside?"

 His ears went red and I saw a twitch of anger travel along his jawline, but he didn't reply and concentrated on clearing his square. Allison continued sifting the soil, but I could see her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. That made me feel better. One point scored by the black wench with the big tits.

 We continued to work in silence for a while. I was clearing what I think was the front right leg of my skeleton when I decided to ask Allison what she was doing. She placed the griddle carefully down and examined the contents. I saw her remove something with tweezers and place it in a resealable plastic bag. She said,"I'm not sure, but I think I'm finding eggshell fragments."

 Luke's ears pricked up at this point and he exclaimed, "Can't be. That doesn't make sense."

 Wearing a rather puzzled expression, Allison nodded, "I know."

 "Why?" I asked.

 Luke frowned and then looked at me, all animosity forgotten for the moment, "Well your dinosaur's a juvenile."

 It wasn't lost on me that he'd referred to it as my dinosaur, but I decided it would be petty to draw attention to it, "So? Explain it as though I'm a complete novice."

 Allison giggled, but Luke ignored her as he stared into space. His brow furrowed and then he spoke, almost as though he was talking to himself, "If this is a juvenile, then it won't be gravid, so there can't be any eggs... But... If there are eggs, then there shouldn't be any juveniles here... No parent Hylaeosaurus would allow any other creature near the nest... And if current thinking is correct... No eggs would be laid until the last of the previous batch of offspring had been completely driven away."

 Allison nodded in agreement.

 I scraped a bit more soil away from the leg I was working on as a thought occurred to me, "Maybe they're not connected. Maybe the eggs were laid and hatched and this fella died here later."

 Allison nodded, then said, "Possibly... After all, I've only found fragments so far. We don't know if the shells were hatched, destroyed by predators or crushed by the layers of soil and stones that covered them."

 Luke grinned, "Well if we find a complete egg then we'll know," he frowned, "And then we'll have more questions."

 Allison looked around at both of us, "God! I fucking love my job!"

 Luke looked somewhat pensive, "Manni?"

 "Yes?"

 He replied quietly, "I'm sorry."

 I smiled at him, "Ancient history."

 Allison griddled a bit more soil and then said, "You know what Luke? You're much more attractive when you're not being such a monumental fuckwit."

 He blushed fiercely and concentrated on his square with dogged determination. Allison grinned at me and then winked before returning to her eggshell hunt.

 We continued in silence until presently, Nathan appeared at the dig carrying a large tarpaulin and some small metal stakes, he said, "Okay, let's get this grid covered and then we can have a wash­up meeting back at the tent."

 Allison placed all of her eggshell samples in her griddle and moved it out of the way, whilst me, Luke and Nathan covered the grid with the tarpaulin and staked it down. As we were working, Diana and her team made their way past us on their way back to their own tent.

 "How's it going?" she asked.

 Luke grinned, "More questions than answers."

 Nathan laughed, "Par for the course."

 Once the tarpaulin was secured, we made our way back to the tent and discussed the events of the day. Nathan was particularly interested in the egg fragments and placed the bags on the trestle table next to a microscope. Nathan said, "Right! Tomorrow I want Allison to examine the fragments she found," he looked at Luke, "I want you to take over A1 and keep after eggshells, okay?"

 Luke nodded and then Nathan directed his gaze to me, "And we will continue digging out your friend. You good with that, Midnight?"

 I was excited, and not just because of what tomorrow would bring, but also because of the way Nathan was looking at me. My nipples became as hard as steel... I bet you knew I was gonna say that.

 "Fine," I said.

 That evening found our group sharing three tables pushed together for dinner back at the pub as we ate, drank and talked about our day. The CD player behind the bar was piping background music through the air, and added a mellow background to the conversations around the room.

 The chat around table was lively and I was having a good time. One of Diana's students asked me, "Have you thought of a name yet?"

 I was puzzled, "A name for what? Oh, you mean my Highly Wotsit."

 The table erupted in good natured laughter. I giggled, "I dunno... Dennis?"

 Diana asked,"So it's a male then?"

 I had no idea and Nathan jumped in, "We don't know yet, but we should know tomorrow, " he smiled at me, "So Dennis for a boy, what if it's a girl?"

 I hadn't really thought about it and Dennis for a boy was more a joke than anything. As I sat in silence momentarily, the tune playing through the speakers filtered over our table. Smokie sang, "Oh, I don't know why she's leaving, Or where she's gonna go, I guess she's got her reasons, But I just don't want to know, 'Cos for twenty­four years I've been living next door to­"

 "Alice!" I shouted.

 Diana cried, "Looks like we had a Lucy moment!"

 "A what?" I asked when the laughter around the table had died down.

 Nathan then explained to me how the partial skeleton of a female Australopithecus had once been found in Ethiopia. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by the Beatles was playing on the radio at the time, so they had named her Lucy.

 I grinned, "Well then. Looks like I'm following a fine tradition."

 As the round-robin chat continued, I glanced over at Luke and Allison who were deep in a private conversation. She had one arm across his shoulders and was using the other to shake a finger in his face, as though she was both chastising and comforting him at the same time. She reached up at one point and gently stroked Luke's jawline.

 Well! That was a surprise.

 I also looked across the table at Nathan, who had lapsed into silence and was clearly deep in thought. His elbows were resting on the table and he was tapping the heels of his hands together. I coughed to get his attention and said, "Penny for your thoughts?"

 His gorgeous eyes focused on me and his stare was one of the most intense he had ever delivered.

 Fuck!

 My panties were scorching!

 And once again I was silently begging to know just how he could do this to me. A single glance and I was soaking. No man had ever affected me like this.

 How the fuck does he do it?

 He said, "I'm not willing to put my thoughts into words yet, but I may do tomorrow."

 At the end of the evening, we all retired to our rooms and Nathan escorted me to my door. He said, "Sleep well, Midnight. Big day tomorrow."

 It seemed like there was more he wanted to say, but he didn't. He simply turned on his heel and walked next door to his own room.

 As I lay in bed that night I had to play with myself, thinking about Nathan and what it would be like to accept him into me. I was so turned on, I couldn't believe it. He had quite literally spoiled me for every other man and he had never even kissed me.

 I'll be honest. I masturbated more than once before I could finally get to sleep. To dream... About Nathan, touching me, caressing me, fucking me... Loving me.

 The next morning, we all headed back to the dig site. Allison planted herself at the microscope and started her examination of the shell fragments. I sat down at a laptop and worked my way through the emails. Luckily there was nothing of any urgency that couldn't wait and none of them required Nathan's attention. Suited me, I was eager to get back to my Highly Wotsit.

 Nathan and Luke headed over to the grid. And when I joined them later, I found Luke sat in A1 griddling more soil, whilst Nathan was clearing soil from the neck end of the skeleton. I could see another large bone coming into view.

 "What's that?" I asked.

 He glanced up at me and answered, "It's the skull... It may answer a question and ask a few more," he nodded too the other end, "grab a trowel and start clearing the pelvic girdle please."

 Which is what I did. We worked in silence until Luke cried out excitedly, "Dr Smethwick!"

 Nathan looked up, "What is it?"

 "I think I've found an intact egg."

 I stopped what I was doing and examined the soil in front of where he was kneeling. I could see a domed shape slowly coming into view as he brushed soil away from it. Nathan stopped what he was doing and moved around the grid to take a closer look. He examined it carefully and then said, "Well done, Luke. Dig it out and we'll have a look at it."

 Then he moved back to the skull and continued his own digging. I could see that he was deep in thought and watched him as he worked. He glanced up at me and I raised an eyebrow asking a silent question. He merely shook his head slightly and continued with his excavation.

 I didn't mind too much. I knew he'd tell me when he was ready.

 Over the course of the day, including a stop for sandwiches at lunch time, Nathan cleared most of the soil from around the skull and was clearing the top of it with a brush. I could see that several of the teeth were now in view. I had uncovered the pelvis bones and asked Nathan to have a look, "Can you see what you need to see?"

 Nathan stared at the pelvic girdle. He took a tape measure from his pocket and measured the gap within the bone. Then he asked Luke for the dimensions of the egg. He nodded at the response and then examined the skull carefully. I could see him paying close attention to the top of it. Then he lay down and examined the teeth very closely.

 He stood up, still staring at the skull and began tapping the heels of his hands together.

 Eventually he said, "Luke. Could you ask Dr Pranaju to come down here please, if it's convenient. I'd like her opinion."

 Luke jumped up and made his way up to the top of the slope.

 "What is it?" I asked.

 "I don't want to say anything yet. I need Diana to have a look at this, and find out if she sees what I see."

 "Like what?"

 Nathan continued too stare at the skull as he lightly tapped the heels of his hands together, he replied, "Patience, Midnight."

 A few minutes later, Luke returned with Diana in tow, "What do you need, Nathan?" she asked.

 He replied, " Diana, take a look at this and tell me what you see."

 "What am I looking for?"

 Nathan shook his head, "I'm not going to say anything. I don't want to colour your opinion."

 I glanced at Luke who shrugged, looking as puzzled as I felt.

 We watched in silence as Diana began her investigation, she was speaking aloud as she worked, "Well it's definitely a Hylaeosaurus, but I'm still surprised to find one this far north. Probably juvenile going by the size," she looked at me, "The ones down south were about five metres long."

 She accepted the tape measure from Nathan and asked me to hold the end of it at the nose.

 Then she carefully measured the distance to the tail, "One metre and fifteen centimetres."

 Her experienced eye travelled slowly over the skeleton from the tip of the tail to the snout and back again. Then she spotted the egg and she frowned. Carefully stepping around the grid, Diana squatted down and took the measurements of the egg, before returning to the pelvic girdle which she also measured.

 She stood back and rubbed her chin before glancing at Nathan who remained strictly silent.

 As she examined the skull, her eyes widened slightly. I could see that she was becoming more excited. Diana squatted down so that she could examine the skull closely, carefully running her finger over two lines in it. One ran from between the eye sockets to the back and the other was perpendicular, running across the skull. I could see they bisected directly in the top centre.

 She murmured, "Fucking Hell," then patted her pockets and asked, "Has anyone got a magnifying glass?"

 I raced back to our tent and grabbed one from a crate in the corner, returned and handed it to Diana. I didn't know why, but I was even more excited than when I had first found my Highly Wotsit. She accepted the glass and then sprawled down on the ground and spent long minutes examining the teeth individually.

 Diana stood back up and brushed the soil from her clothing with her hands.

 Nathan asked, "Well?"

 I was almost ready to scream. The tension was palpable.

 Diana regarded the skull for another long minute, she looked at Nathan, smiled and nodded. Then she said, "Let me get my boys and girls down here. They'll want to hear this."

 She raced back up the slope, whilst Nathan shouted, "Allison. Get your arse over here!"

 Allison's head popped out of the tent and then she came over, "Yes Dr Smethwick?"

 "Wait a minute. Dr Pranaju's bringing her students down."

 I was dancing from one foot to the other, "What is it Nathan? What's going on?"

 He grabbed me by the arms, "Calm down, Midnight. let's get everybody here before I run through it."

 His touch and his stare excited me even more and I could feel my stomach churning.

 Once Diana had returned with her students, Nathan began his explanation, "Right. Everybody, can you all see..? Yes..? Good. As you can see, on first impression, this looks like the skeleton of a juvenile Hylaeosaurus. Now as you know, the only other specimens discovered were all at the other end of the country. And we know that they grew to a length of about five metres."

 I looked around and could see from the facial expressions that this was very old news to everybody except me.

 Diana took over, "However. If you look, this one is only about one metre long, but there is also an intact egg. Clearly the egg is too small, it's nowhere near the size of those found in the south east. I measured both the egg and the pelvic girdle of the skeleton... They matched. Leading to the proposal that this dinosaur possibly laid this egg. Obviously, we can't confirm it yet, but the measurements match up, and it is definitely female," she glanced at me, "Manni, meet Alice... Alice, Manni."

 There was a ripple of laughter and one or two of the faces around me started to take on increasingly excited expressions.

 Allison piped up, "I can confirm that the fragments I've examined are Hylaeosaurus type eggs."

 Nathan nodded at her and then took up the narrative, "Now look at the skull. As you can see, the fontanelle is closed and the four quarters of the cranium have met and fused at the crown. Both myself and Dr Pranaju have examined the teeth and we have both arrived at the same independent tentative conclusion... Alice," he waved his hand at the skull, "Is a mature adult."

 Several of the students, including Luke and Allison were staring at the skeleton. Suddenly there was a cacophony of voices all asking questions, but I was unable to make anything out. Nathan shouted, "Calm down! Quiet please!"

 Once the babble died away, he looked at me and said, "Midnight, it's possible that you've just made the history books."

 I was almost crying, "What? What is it? Tell me!"

 Every eye was on me as Nathan said, "We may be jumping the gun, but Diana and I are 95% certain. You didn't just find a dinosaur, " he took my hands in his (I shivered) and he said, "We think... And this is still very much open to argument, but we think... you've discovered a new one."

 "YOU ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

 The cheer was deafening and all around me I could hear the excited shouting of questions thrown from all directions at Nathan and Diana. I could dimly make out her voice through the cacophony, but Nathan simply stood mute gazing at me with those beautiful, blue eyes. Several students hugged me and patted me on the back. More than a few of the male students, including Luke offered a kiss to my cheek. But I only had eyes for Nathan... And he only had eyes for me. We had shared many long looks over our time together, both in the real world and over Skype. But none of them seemed to have lasted as long as this one and none had ever seemed quite so full of meaning.




Midnight Ch. 06



I don't remember feeling my legs move, nor do I recall seeing him walk towards me, but somehow we were face to face only inches apart. Hesitantly I reached up and placed my hand on his chest. I felt his hand cover mine and hold it in place. The heat from his fingers almost burned me. My breathing became ragged and I closed my eyes briefly as sensations of pleasure radiated from my hand and up my arm. I almost moaned with the sheer joy of tenderly touching him.

 I licked my lips to try and moisten them, I was suddenly dry throated and thought my voice would crack as I tried to speak.

 "Really?" I asked.

 "Really," he murmured softly in response.

 Our faces drew even closer until our lips were inches apart. I was stuck between laughter and tears, both because of my discovery but also because I knew this was it. This was where I found out if Nathan had the same feelings for me that I had for him.

 It was painful. The love I had for this wonderful man was like nothing I had ever felt before and I was so scared that it wasn't returned. But if I kissed him... Then I would know.

 My lips parted slightly and then I felt a hand clap me on the back and I staggered slightly in surprise. Nathan moved as well and the face of one of Diana's students was thrust close to ours.

 He shouted, "We gotta have a party tonight!"

 Both of us snapped our heads round to face the interloper who was beaming broadly and the spell was broken. Nathan pulled away from me, I could see he was slightly flushed and he too flickered into a smile, aimed at everyone... Except me.

 "Yes," he called out, "The first beers are on me tonight!"

 Once again, the small crowd cheered.

 Both disappointed and relieved, I looked around at all the smiling, happy faces. But my attention was drawn to Diana who was stood slightly off to one side. I could see that she was scowling at the student who had interrupted us. I saw her take a nip from her hipflask she kept in her coat pocket and then mutter, "Fuck sake!"

 She saw me looking at her and then a smile gradually replaced the scowl, but I got the impression that it wasn't altogether genuine, at least to begin with. She walked towards me and gave me a big hug. When she released me, the smile she wore was both beaming and real.

 Gradually the noise died down and Diana said, "We'll get Alice dug out and sent to the lab­"

 "In Hull!" interjected Nathan amidst laughter.

 Diana joined in the laughter and then continued, "And if it turns out Alice is the first of a new species, then you'll get the honour of naming her."

 Puzzled I replied, "She's got a name. Alice. Duh!"

 "No. I mean a name for the subspecies. It won't just be Hylaeosaurus. You'll need to add to it for taxonomic purposes... Duh!"

 "What?"

 "She'll need a Latin name."

 "Oh. No problem, I'll just pull an English­Latin dictionary out of my magic arsehole, shall I?"

 More laughter ensued until Nathan said, "If you don't mind, Midnight. Would you do me the honour of allowing me to give her a name?"

 I smiled at him, "Of course you can. You know about this shit."

 "In that case, I suggest Hylaeosaurus Mediam."

 Diana rolled her eyes, "You soppy git! The committee probably won't allow that."

 He bristled, "I'll bloody well make them!"

 I looked from one to the other, "What does Highly Wotsit Medium, mean?"

 Nathan once again fixed me in place with a look and said, "Not important. It's just a technical term to differentiate Alice from her cousins down south."

 I could see his eyes were twinkling and Diana too had a cheeky glint in her eye, but for the moment I was willing to let it pass. I was simply too happy about finding Alice to worry. Although at the edge of my merriment was a tinge of regret. Our moment had been interrupted and I felt a little stab in my heart. Did Nathan feel the same way about me as I felt about him? I still didn't know, but now I was too scared to pursue it, just in case he didn't... That would kill me.

 That evening found everybody back at the pub. Nathan had stopped off to talk to the Landlord about opening the function room for our impromptu party. I think he may have allowed his credit card to do the talking. After all, it wouldn't be cheap and extra bar staff would need to be drafted in. He even managed to organise some basic party food as well, so nobody bothered going down for dinner.

 As I hadn't planned for a social event, my choice of outfit was limited. I eventually settled on a plain white blouse that had a rather plunging neckline and a thick, dark skirt that came to just above my knees. As it happened, I had packed a pair of black, court shoes as I didn't relish wearing boots in the evening if I could avoid it. I grabbed a quick shower, dressed and applied some makeup to beautify myself a bit. I also went to work with the straighteners and then my curling tongs to put a slight wave in my hair. I didn't want to have the usual ponytail tonight.

 I made my way to the function room and found that I was the first one there. The bar was still being set up and one of the staff was fiddling around in the far corner with a basic DJ station, connecting cables, checking the disco lights and opening case after case of CDs. Two large tables were sat against the wall running under the windows and each had been covered with white sheet. Stacks of plates and a cutlery tray were already in place at the end nearest the bar, but as yet, no food had been set out. Several square tables were dotted around the room with four wooden chairs to each one on the carpeted area. And there was a polished wooden dance floor in front of the DJ booth.

 I managed to sweet talk a glass of pineapple juice out of one of the barmen, even though he wasn't quite ready for service yet, and sat at one of the tables to wait for the others to get there.

 After a few minutes, the sound of Come On Eileen by Dexy's Midnight Runners came out of the speakers that were dotted around the walls and one or two of the students drifted in.

 A short while later, Nathan, Diana, Luke and Allison came in. They waved at me, grabbed drinks and joined me at my table. Luke snaffled a chair from elsewhere and shuffled it into place between Nathan and Allison.

 We chatted amiably for a while, watching as the function room gradually filled, until everybody from the dig was there. By this time, Duran Duran were wailing on about Girls On Film.

 "Christ!" shrieked Allison, "Does that bugger only have 80's Party Mix albums?"

 Luke grinned, "Could be worse. He could be playing wartime hits from the 40's. You remember those don't you Dr Smethwick?"

 Nathan was taking a pull of his beer and nearly choked. He laughed and said, "Looks like Mr Iverson doesn't want to pass this course."

 Allison elbowed Luke in the ribs and snapped, "Pack it in! Get him angry and he might flunk me too!"

 Then the two students shared a giggle with their heads together. We watched them indulgently for a moment and then Diana said, "We've got a Geophys team coming the day after tomorrow to scan the top field. When they're done, you want them to have a look at your area?"

 My brow crinkled, "Geophys?"

 Nathan said, "Geophysics. They use GPR... Ground Penetrating Radar to go over the terrain and help us identify buried structures and shapes, so we have a better idea of where to dig and what we might find."

 I flicked my hair back and said airily, "Ah yes, you see. Some of us don't need such new fangled devices. We rely on our natural talents of blind luck and ignorance to find the booty."

 Everyone laughed and then Nathan said, "Actually, might not be a bad idea. Saves me getting a team over from Hull. How's the settlement looking by the way?"

 Diana sighed, "Not much so far. We've got a partial skeleton, some trinkets and some broken pottery. We thought we might have a stone structure, but it looks like there's only a small portion of it left. I think it must have been placed where the explosive blew rather than going north.

 Hopefully the settlement, if there is one, is under the north field on top of the spur. If it went south from where we are..." she shrugged.

 "What?" I asked.

 Allison said, "If it went south, then it'll have been destroyed when they blew the up the site when they were digging."

 "Oh." I said, "Well, here's hoping."

 The conversation meandered, the wine flowed and the music played on. Eventually the DJ ran out of his goddamned eighties tunes and some better music started playing. Everything from Elvis and Bill Haley to Beyonce and Jessie J. He did attempt some Kajagoogoo later on, but he was told to fuck off and play something decent. Also the food appeared. A few hastily thrown together sandwiches and pork pies and large trays of roast chicken and chips. Basic stuff, but it was tasty, filling and it helped to soak up the alcohol.

 The students were getting hammered... Of course they were, they're students. But I must admit that I stuck to pineapple juice and both Nathan and Diana were drinking in moderation. All three of us wanted to be fresh for the morning.

 Or at least I think so. Once or twice I saw Diana eyeing up one of the barmen speculatively, she saw me watching her and winked.

 As the evening wore on, a few people took to the dance floor. I watched as Allison dragged Luke up for a boogie and then DAve, one of Diana's students, grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the dance floor. I must admit I enjoy dancing and I'm quite good even if I say so myself. I know what you're thinking... I'm black, of course I can dance. But that's an urban myth I can assure you. I've seen several black blokes throwing shapes who looked more like they were having an Epileptic fit than dancing. Dave was white, but boy could he move!

 Anyway, I was having really good time dancing with partner after partner. I don't know if I was a popular dance partner because of Alice or because my tits were bouncing about like rabid space hoppers. Either way I was enjoying myself. However, several times I got that familiar itch between my shoulder blades and I would glance across to see Nathan gazing at me. I would smile and wave him over, but he simply shook his head, give me that half smile and then return his attention to whoever was sat with him at the time.

 Diana had planted herself at the bar and was deep in conversation with the handsome, young target of her affections. I also saw Allison and Luke enjoying a boogie together and taking it in turns to shout a conversation into each other's ears.

 Time was marching on and it was getting quite late when the obligatory slow dances started.

 Thankfully with a reduction in tempo came a reduction in volume, making conversation on the dance floor much easier. I smiled to myself when I saw Allison and Luke moulding their bodies together as they swayed slowly in time with the music. And it didn't escape my notice that Allison had her arms draped around his neck whilst he had a firm grip of her rounded buttocks.

 My current partner started to pull me close when I felt the familiar itch between my shoulder blades and then a hand rested possessively on the small of my back. I tingled. Nathan smiled at the student and said, "Sorry, I've got rank and I'm pulling it," then he asked me, "Would you care to dance?"

 I melted into his arms, "I thought you'd never ask."

 His hands rested lightly on my hips and I placed mine on his shoulders. We moved together in slow circles and I was gratified to find him surprisingly light on his feet.

 "You move well," I said, "I'm surprised you didn't join me earlier.

 He grinned, "I'm not keen on the fast ones. This is more my style... As well as the waltz. I do like a good waltz."

 "Maybe you can teach me, one day."

 "Maybe."

 We danced in silence for the next couple of tracks. I must admit it felt wonderful to be in his arms like that, simply moving slowly to the music. With our bodies pressed close together, I could feel the heat rising and my nipples became so hard, I thought they might be drilling into his chest. I felt his hands slide slowly around my body onto the small of my back and he pulled me even closer against him. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. My panties were damp with the sheer excitement of holding this man so close and I swear, I could feel something hard pressing against my tummy.

 Thoughts and images flashed through my head. I saw with my mind's eye that we weren't dancing, we were naked and entwined in the act of love. Giving, receiving and sharing pleasure. I felt my pussy begin to pulse and a heat was building in my womb.

 Fuck! I wanted this man so much! Not just for sex... I loved him. I loved him like I had never loved anyone. Ever!

 Soon, the DJ announced the last track and the bell rang for last orders. As the music faded, we stopped dancing, still holding each other close. We looked around at the students, knocking back the last of their drinks and filing out of the room. I noticed that Diana was heading out of the door with a half bottle of Laphroaig in one hand and her hottie barman in the other. That woman is such a fucking outlaw!

 I looked back into Nathan's eyes and whispered, "Well. That's it then."

 We shared another long moment before he answered, "Yes. The party's over."

 Neither of us made any move to separate.

 I said, "I suppose we should head up to bed."

 "Indeed. Busy day tomorrow."

 "Yes."

 "I enjoyed the dancing, Midnight."

 "Me too."

 Slowly, regretfully, we disengaged and then made our way upstairs to our rooms.

 I paused at my door, turned to look at Nathan with my hand on the door handle and said softly, "Well... Night then."

 Nathan's eyes burned into me as though he was looking deep inside my mind and reading my innermost thoughts, his expression unreadable. He replied, "Sleep well, Midnight."

 He leaned down, pecked me on the cheek, then turned and started along the corridor to his own room.

 That was the first time he had ever kissed me. My skin where his lips had brushed against me tingled and I carefully held my fingertips to my cheek, his brief touch had sent shivers through my body. I had the awful feeling that I was about to make a big mistake but I just couldn't help myself. I had to tell him, regardless of the consequences, I couldn't go another day without knowing if my feelings were reciprocated.

 I had to know.

 "Nathan, I need to say something," I called, unable to keep a quaver out of my voice.

 He turned and came back, "What is it?"

 Scared, I was unable to meet his gaze. I had never been so frightened in my life, even at the worst of times. I knew this could be a terrible mistake that would cause me more pain than I could endure.

 I rubbed my right fist in my left hand and stared doggedly at them. On the verge of tears I couldn't help shivering as I blurted out, "I want you."

 Nathan placed his finger and thumb on my chin and very gently tilted my head up so I had to look him in the eye, "What did you say?"

 I was mesmerised by those eyes. Those fucking eyes. My expression was a mask of nervous fear as I murmured, "Need you."

 Christ! I was so fucking terrified, I was shaking!

 His face was an enigma, I had no idea what was going on behind those icy blue eyes, until he slowly moved his face to mine and lightly brushed his lips against my own. In hushed tones, he answered, "I need you too, Midnight," and gently kissed me again.

 I thought my legs might give way beneath me. It had never felt like this! I was getting more of a thrill from a simple kiss than than I had ever experienced before. Still uncertain, I moved my hands up to cup his face and held him still so that the kiss could deepen. Our mouths opened slightly and I slipped my tongue between his lips, and let the tip stroke his teeth before sliding it across his tongue.

 His arms moved to enfold me in a tender embrace as my hands snaked around to hold the back of his neck.

 I didn't want it to end... Ever!

 The single­mindedness that Nathan applied to his studies, his professional life, his mentoring of students, was also unconsciously applied to his kisses. And I could feel it transferring to me through the contact of our lips, tongues and hands. There was no rational thought, no cares over who might see us, no worry about how our heads moved to make sure we didn't bump noses, no thoughts about what to do with our hands, and whether we should allow our fingers to start searching out more intimate contact.

 There was only... The kiss.

 After what felt like a thousand years, it ended and we placed our foreheads together even as our embrace tightened.

 Nathan sighed deeply and murmured, "I... I love you, Midnight."

 My heart lurched when I heard those words. I pulled my head back so I could once again gaze deeply into his eyes. I could feel a single tear make it's way down my cheek as I replied, "Oh God! I've dreamed of hearing you say those words to me. I love you Nathan. I need you. I need you like I need oxygen... Please... Let me show you how much I love you."

 I disengaged from his arms, took his hand in my own, opened the door to my room, and gently drew him inside.

 END OF CHAPTER SIX



Midnight Ch. 07



We stood next to the bed, I moved my face to his and kissed him again. His arms wrapped around me once more and he drew me close. Our lips parted and our tongues sought each other. Gently at first, but as our passion mounted our tongues moved faster almost as though they were going into battle rather than loving. Our breathing became ragged and I was moaning into Nathan's mouth.

Eventually, we separated and my hands came up between our bodies to start undoing the buttons of his shirt. I could feel his fingers sliding up and down my sides from hip to rib cage and my eyes closed briefly as the sensations of pleasure started to build. My nipples were so hard it felt like they were trying to push their way through the material of my blouse and I could feel the heat rising in my womb. My fingers stopped momentarily. I gazed deeply into his eyes and whispered, "How do you do this to me? I have never wanted anyone the way I want you."

Without waiting for a reply, I continued unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it open slowly. As each square inch of his lily white flesh came into view, it was covered with a gentle kiss. I pulled the shirt from his trousers and pushed it down his arms. His chest was smooth and hairless and his stomach was flat and toned. I placed my lips over one of his light pink nipples and licked it. As the tip of my tongue circled it, I could feel his nipple harden slightly and the texture changed from smooth to crinkly, and I heard him inhale sharply.

His hands were not idle either. I felt his fingers undo the catch at the top of my skirt and then pull the zip down. Before he was at the bottom, my skirt slipped down over my hips and fell to the floor. I carefully stepped out of it and kicked it to the side of the room.

My lips and fingers wandered slowly all over his torso. He tasted and felt fantastic and my nostrils were filled with the aroma of his manly musk. I could smell his excitement... His desire.

We drew together for another kiss and my hands found his belt buckle, even as his stroked my bare hips and around to lightly stroke the cheeks of my bottom. A million shivers travelled up and down my spine and I couldn't help but moan softly as I felt his fingertips inscribe delicate circles over my flesh.

Slowly his belt was released and I undid his trousers letting them fall to his knees The backs of my fingers brushed against his hard cock, still encased in his tight, white boxer shorts and I felt it twitch. It felt like a steel bar and I was eager to see it, touch it, taste and pleasure it.

He undid the buttons of my blouse as we continued our gentle kiss, lips joined together in anticipation of the joining of our bodies more intimately. My hands wandered around his body and I held him lightly, letting my fingers slide backwards and forwards on his sides. I briefly released him so that he could slide my blouse off and throw it to join my skirt in a crumpled heap.

Nathan stood back to look at me. His eyes were filled with lust as he took in the sight before him.

I was stood before him in only my lacy blue bra and panties.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked softly.

I could see him shaking slightly as he replied, "No. I love what I see."

As I took in the view before me, I whispered, "Me too."

It took all of my resolve not to just fall to my knees, pull his pants down and take his hard length into my mouth. But I didn't want to do that. It had always been my usual method, but tonight was different. Tonight was special. I had no desire to just blow him, I wanted to worship him, adore and love him.

I took his hands in mine and directed him to move so that his back was to the bed. Then I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down his thighs. His cock caught on the material momentarily, before it sprang free and let me see it. Thick and hard it reached to his navel, jutting straight up proudly. His balls were large and heavy and he had a triangle of sparse blond pubic hair on his underbelly, just above the base of his hard cock.

I felt him reach behind me and he struggled briefly to undo my bra. Once it was open, he slid the straps off my shoulders and down my arms. The cups fell away from my breasts and I could see the look of wonder in his eyes as he saw my huge mounds for the first time. He gently cupped them in his hands as best he could. The flesh spilled out to the sides because there was simply too much to fit in his hands. I couldn't help but inhale sharply as his thumbs brushed over my hard nipples. Tiny bolts of electricity shot through my boobs and I moaned once again. My eyes closed and I murmured, "That feels so good."

Placing my hands over his as he played with my tits, I stopped him moving and said, "I want to do something for you," I offered him a tiny smile, "Let me love you."

I pushed him back gently with one hand in the centre of his chest forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed. Then I knelt down and quickly removed his shoes and socks, then slid his trousers and boxers off his muscular legs.

Standing back up I whispered, "Get into the middle of the bed."

A troubled expression crossed his face.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I... Erm... I don't have any condoms. I wasn't expecting to..."

I paused for a moment, "How long since you've been with a woman?"

He looked uncomfortable and answered, "Must be over a year... I've been too busy I suppose."

"Well, if you had anything I should know about, it would have made itself known by now," I looked him right in the eye, "I've been with lots of men in my time... You know that... But I've never done anything without a condom."

He looked confused, "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying, I trust you and I want you to trust me... We're safe. I don't want to feel latex between us... I want to feel you. For the first time in my life, I want to actually feel the man I'm with. I want to feel you, smell you, taste you... I want to love you, Nathan."

He smiled at me and then I watched him shuffle his body round, so that his head lay on the pillow and he was stretched out lying straight out on his back. I let my eyes take in the view of his tight, white body and that cock... That beautiful cock. I had never before considered a hard penis a particularly pretty thing, seeing it merely as a tool to provide me with an orgasm more than anything else. In fact I had always thought they looked rather ugly or amusing. But here... now... Nathan's stiff cock looked beautiful and mouth­watering.

My eyes never left his as I moved on to the bed and crawled towards him. I lay on my side resting on my elbow with my head next to his. Then I planted a delicate kiss on the side of his neck and let my hand rest lightly on his chest.

Slowly, I kissed a trail down from his neck, over his collarbone, over the expanse of his firm pectoral, stopping briefly to kiss and lick his nipple again. I could feel him running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp as I worked my way down his body. I was getting beyond aroused. I could hear him moaning and his body twitched slightly wherever I planted a sweet kiss. As I moved nearer and nearer to his hard cock, I could feel the heat emanating from it, and the sweet aroma of his arousal filled my nostrils.

I turned my eyes to his and we stared deeply into each other's souls. I ran a fingertip along the length of his cock from the head all the way to his balls. He jumped slightly, but never broke eye contact. My pussy felt like it was flooding, both with the anticipation of what I was about to do for my lover, but also because of the way he held me with those fucking gorgeous eyes.

Taking a firm but gentle grip of his meaty length, I pulled it away from his stomach and placed a gentle kiss on the end. Then my tongue snaked out and I lashed at the head, covering it with my saliva. I was preparing it for my loving assault.

Still I maintained his gaze as my lips parted and for the first time in my life, I felt the sensation of hot male flesh enter my mouth. The texture of his smooth skin over the veins and flesh in my mouth sent needles of delight into the pleasure centre of my brain. Slowly I worked my lips further down his cock with every stroke in and out, I used my tongue to tease him, stroke and caress him as my hand slid down to fondle his balls.

I used every trick I knew, licking and nibbling gently along the length of it, teasing his balls with my fingers, lips and tongue. Taking just the head into my mouth and caressing it with the tip of my tongue, and of course taking the entire length into my mouth so he was touching the back of my throat.

His breath started to become a little ragged and his free hand was clenching and unclenching in time with my movements.

His moans increased in volume and excitement as I loved him with my mouth and fingers.

Bringing my hand back on to his achingly hard staff, I let it slide up and down, gently wanking him as I pulled my mouth free to murmur, "I love you."

Then I sank his hot pole back between my lips. Faster and faster I moved my head up and down.

His body was beginning to shake and spasm under my onslaught. I started to move further down with each stroke, inch by inch getting more of his hard prick into my hot, wet mouth until I was thrusting my head all the way along his length pulling back so that only the head was between my lips and then plunging back down so my nose was bumping into his light thatch of pubic hair.

After dealing with Steve's massive organ, it was easy to deep throat Nathan. It was easier and also much more enjoyable.

Where Steve had been rough and selfish, Nathan was gentle and loving. He never tried to thrust into my mouth, his hand on my head never tried to force me down, it simply held me lightly, lovingly and gently. I could feel his cock get even harder in my mouth and it started to twitch. I knew he was close, I knew he was going to cum and I knew that he was going to fill my mouth with it.

As his excitement grew, so did my own. My body felt like it was on fire, my nipples were painfully hard and my pussy was awash with my juices. My womb was pulsing and I knew that for the first time in my life, giving oral pleasure to a man was going to give me an orgasm of my own. As if trying to warn me, he moaned,"I'm gonna cum. You're making me cum."

Did he expect me to stop? Or maybe remove my mouth and let him squirt his juices over his stomach? That wasn't going to happen. For the first time in my life I was going to accept my lover's cum into my mouth and swallow it all.

It was a little thing, really.

Such a tiny thing to do for my lover.

To take his fluid into my mouth and swallow it, but for me at this moment it was the most important thing in the world. I was showing him that I wanted him... I needed him... I wanted to share everything that was Nathan and make it part of me.

So I never stopped moving my lips up and down his hard cock, until I felt him tense up, his fingers gripped my hair and his cock twitched in my my mouth. He exploded with a shout of joy and I felt stream after stream of hot, sticky cum hit the back of my throat.

I couldn't help moaning loudly around his cock as waves of pleasure rippled through my womb. I had orgasmed. Not a large one, but an orgasm nonetheless, purely through an act of giving. This was something else I had never experienced before.

Not for the first or last time, I wondered just how it was possible for Nathan to affect me the way he did.

Almost convulsively, I gulped it down. I wasn't sure what to expect, although I'll admit I wasn't keen on the creamy, sticky texture. But the taste? Oh my fucking God! I loved it. My Nathan was sweet and at the same time, salty. The flavour was quite unlike anything else I had ever tasted, but I knew that I would want to taste him again, over and over... For the rest of my life.

Greedily I licked and sucked on his cock, making sure I gathered up every last drop of his precious cum. I could hear him moaning and groaning as I devoured all of the warm, white fluid, leaving him completely clean.

More amazingly, I found that he never went down. His prick remained as hard after cumming as it was before I started.

I gently stroked his hardness with my hand as I looked back up his body to gaze at him. Nathan had forced his head back deep into the pillow and was staring straight up at the ceiling. His mouth was open and he was breathing heavily, trying to regain control of his body.

I released his cock and moved back up to lay next to him again, thrilled at the feel of his skin against my own. His eyes once again found mine. I smiled at him and then planted a tender kiss on his lips, allowing him to taste himself.

Suddenly, Nathan took charge and I felt his body weight gently push against me so that I was lying flat on my back with his body half on top of mine, kissing me deeply and passionately. Our tongues did battle as our open lips formed a seal.

Again I couldn't help but moan as I felt his fingertips start to explore my skin, raising goosebumps in their wake, and tiny bolts of electricity were shooting along my nervous system delivering pulse after pulse of pure joy into my brain.

Slowly his lips and tongue made their way from my mine, along my jawline to the side of my neck as his fingers continued their exploration of my flesh, inscribing flowing, lazy curves as they travelled over my arms, shoulders, down the sides of my rib cage and over my stomach. Every stroke, every touch, every kiss sent yet another bolt of electricity through me and I couldn't help but moan softly.

I was desperate for him to touch me in my sensitive, private places, but he didn't. Not yet. My hands stroked up and down his back and I couldn't help parting my thighs, wanting... needing him to invade me.

"Please," I whispered, "I need you... I need you inside me."

His mouth continued its slow journey from the side of my neck, across to the shallow dip in my throat, over my collarbone and then onto the curve of the top of my breast. His hand slid up my stomach and he gently cupped my heavy mound, gently squeezing and massaging me as his mouth finally came into contact with my nipple.

The sensation of his hot, wet mouth sucking and licking my rock hard nipple made me breath in sharply and then yelp as the pleasure washed through me. Without thought, my fingers formed claws and I couldn't help but dig my nails into his back.

My pussy was boiling with desire and I was starting to squirm. His mouth followed a lazy path to my other breast and his hand moved up to cover the tit he had just released, his thumb stroking back and forth over it, as he lovingly attacked both nipples at once.

My back arched slightly. I was so turned on, so excited, I cried out,"Oh God!"

Ripples of blissful delight were washing through me and I could once again feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe the indescribable pleasure that he was giving me.

As his lips continued their assault on my aching nipples, his fingers started travelling down my body following a slow curving path, I was so eager to feel his fingers stroke my boiling hot pussy, I couldn't help but start thrusting my hips up and down. But his teasing fingers bypassed my wetness and travelled over my hip and down the front of my thigh. I was moaning now in frustration and I spread my legs even further apart. I needed him to push his fingers inside me, to explore my dark folds and reach into the pinkness inside.

Then his hand slid onto the inside of my thigh and started moving upwards. His lips started planting tender kisses on my skin as his head moved down my body. His fingers moved onto my outer lips and I felt a finger slide up and down, parting my bloated pussy lips until it found my hard clit.

"Oh God!" I sobbed.

The stab of pleasure as he started playing with the hard button at the top of my sex almost made me scream. His fingers continued to explore my opening, until I felt him slide his finger deep inside. At the same time he shuffled around and his tongue found my aching clitoris. A second finger joined the one already invading my soaking pussy as he continued to lick and tease my clit.

He flicked it with the tip of his tongue and then lapped at it like a dog, alternating between the two motions, even as he continued to thrust his fingers rhythmically in and out of me.

The sheer levels of pleasure, the joy he was giving me as he lovingly attacked my womanhood were beyond belief. I knew that he was going to give me the biggest orgasm of my life from his oral loving.

I could barely breath, I was gasping for air and my hands were clenched tight as I gripped the sheet. Waves of pleasure were building, stronger and faster as I felt his lips and tongue slide all over my pussy from top to bottom, pausing every few strokes to lash at my clitoris. Then he stiffened his tongue and pushed it as deeply inside me as far as he could.

I cried out in ecstasy!

The floodgates opened as I came like never before. I grabbed his head and gripped his hair tightly as I tried to force his face into my soaking, red hot pussy. I couldn't stop my thighs from clamping together on his head as waves of molten gold joy spread through my entire body. My face screwed up, my eyes tight shut as I keened with a high pitched whine through clenched teeth. I was losing control of my body and my skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The heat I was radiating must have made me seem almost feverish and my breath came in short, ragged gasps.

Slowly, slowly I floated back to Earth and I was able to relax. Desperately I tried to speak, "Nathan... Oh God... I've never... Oh my God!"

He didn't answer me, he simply pulled away and moved around so he lay next to me, then he rolled over so that he was laying between my spread legs, supporting his weight on his elbows.

My pussy was still pulsing as I felt the head of his stiff cock bumped against the wet folds of my sex.

My eyes opened and I stared deeply into his beautiful eyes, just as he gazed back into mine.

I was almost crying, "Please... I need you inside me. Make me yours."

His hand slipped between our bodies and I felt him fumble with his fat cock, positioning it at my entrance, then without warning, he pushed his hips forward and slid his entire length deep inside my soaking pussy!

The sensation of my first ever skin­to­skin contact with a lover threatened to send me over the edge again. My spine arched and my arms and legs spasmed, stretching out stiffly. Then my arms surrounded him and I held him tight.

I threw my head back and through clenched teeth, I groaned, "Ohhhh Jeeeeesuuuuuuusss!"

Once again the joyous feelings were filling my senses and I couldn't believe just how it could get any better than this.

A few seconds later, I found out.

Nathan began moving his hips as he transferred his weight to one elbow, our bodies were in contact from chest to groin and his free hand cupped my breast as he slid his cock in and out of my slick, greasy hole.

My hands moved up to the back of his neck and I pulled his face to mine so that we could kiss savagely as we made love. He lightly pinched my rock­hard nipple, and another stab of pleasure flowed through my chest. It added to the bliss that was washing through me from the contact of his hard cock against the honey walls of my aching pussy.

Faster and faster he thrust in and out of me, building my levels of ecstasy once again. I stretched my thighs further apart, bent my knees and planted my feet flat on the bed. Then as our passion mounted to unbelievable heights, I started thrusting back up at him.

Faster and harder we moved as we slammed against each other. He pulled his head from mine so that we could gaze deep into each others' eyes. I snarled, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeeeee!"




Midnight Ch. 07



I felt his body tense up and his face became a snarling mask, through gritted teeth he groaned, "Gonna cum. Oh fuck! Gonna cummmmm!"

Nathan threw his head back and roared!

I felt his cock inside me become even harder as he slammed into me with all his strength one last time, our pubic mounds pressed hard together. Then his cock throbbed and fired stream after sticky stream of hot cum deep inside my womb. The sensation signalled the start of my own climax. My pussy clamped down hard on his pulsing member. Even if he had wanted to withdraw, my womanhood was gripping him too hard. My pussy was flooding, spraying him with cum. I was squirting convulsively all over him, covering us both where we were joined in my hot, sticky juice.

It felt like my body was on fire as pure, white­hot ecstasy flooded my system. Once again I arched my spine and held onto Nathan's body with all my strength. Sensory overload had sent me into orbit and I could see nothing as my eyes stared straight up at the ceiling. I could feel the blood rushing in my veins. The sound filled my ears and drowned out everything, except... Right at the edge of my consciousness I could hear somebody screaming and screaming and screaming in pure, animal lust!

As the rushing of the blood in my ears began to slow I realised who was screaming.

It was me.

Slowly, slowly I floated back to Earth and I was able to focus my eyes on the beautiful man in my arms. I could see that he too was battling to regain control of his body, and we both struggled to get oxygen into our lungs with deep, ragged breaths.

As the last of the sensations of my climax ebbed away, my body felt limp and my arms and legs were as weak as rubber bands. I released Nathan from the tight grip and let him roll off me to lay on his back. As his cock slithered out of me, I felt a mixture of our juices seep out of my pussy and slide down the crack of my arse to join the result of my incredible orgasm that had pooled on the sheet between my thighs.

With difficulty, I rolled over and snugged into Nathan's chest and hooked my leg over his, letting my hand lie on his now softened cock. I was taking joy from the feel of our bodies entwined together. His arm snaked under my body and I felt his hand on my shoulder blade, pulling me even closer into him.

This gorgeous man had, in one act of love, washed away every memory of every other man I had been with. He hadn't fucked me. He hadn't taken me or shagged me... He had cherished me, worshipped me, loved me. He had made me feel like a woman complete. I finally knew what physical love should be.

Then a thought occurred to me, a scary thought. My blood ran cold and tears made their way down my cheek.

He must have felt a tear hit his chest as he whispered, "Why are you crying?"

I sniffed and tried to blink back my tears, "Because I truly know how it should be."

"What do you mean?"

"Nathan, you have ruined me for every other man... It has never felt like this... I have never felt like this... And I'm scared. I'm so fucking frightened."

"Why?"

I raised myself up so I could look him in those mesmerising eyes, "I'm scared it will never happen again. I'm terrified that you'll wake up tomorrow and realise what a mistake this was."

He smiled gently and replied, "Trust me on this, this was no mistake. I intend to make love with you for as long and as often as you want me to... I love you, Midnight, and I never want to let you go."

I grabbed his face in my hands and snarled, "Say it again! You say it again and you make me believe you!"

Nathan didn't speak, he simply drew me in for a kiss. A deep, loving, toe­curling kiss that relit the fire in my belly.

My hand moved back to his cock and I felt it growing and hardening again. Without thinking I threw my leg over him and climbed on top, still we kissed as I positioned the head against the wet folds of my opening and then slid down so that he was once again buried deep inside me.

No words were spoken as we moved together slowly and gently. I sat up and balanced myself with my hands on his chest. Staring deeply into each others eyes, I could feel every inch of his hardness in my pussy and I could feel every inch of the love he had surrounding me, comforting me, just as my love surrounded and cherished him. His hands came up to stroke and gently pinch my aching nipples as I moved. Yet more spasms raced through me as I struggled against the multiple attack of pleasure assaulting my body.

Soon another huge, screaming orgasm washed through me as we came together and I collapsed forward, smothering his face with kisses, until I felt his cock soften and slither from within me, then once again, I moved over to lie snuggled against him, "I wish I had the words to tell you just how much I love you."

I felt him squeeze me in response. No further words were spoken... No further words were needed.

Wrapped in the warmth of shared love, we slipped into a deep, satisfied sleep.

I suppose you're wondering how I can remember such detail after all this time. Well let me assure you, that it was a night I will never forget. Every second of every minute of my first time with Nathan is burned indelibly into my brain. I could be laying on my deathbed at 97 years old, and simply close my eyes to be transported back in time to that room in the Hanged Man. I remember that night so clearly, because it was the night I stopped being a girl.

Forget reaching puberty.

Forget my first period.

Forget losing my virginity.

Forget my first orgasm.

That was the night I finally became a woman.

I woke up in the morning and found myself still entwined with Nathan. My arm was draped across his stomach and one of my legs was between his, which were crossed at the ankles, locking me in place. This was also something new to me. Never had I fallen asleep wrapped in a loving embrace... Oh I'd gone to sleep and woken up with a man in my bed before, but never had I shared such loving intimacy. This had definitely been a night of firsts for me... And I wanted more. I wanted to wake up like this every day for the rest of my life.

I moved my head slightly so that I could look down at our bodies as we were snuggled together and was silently delighting in the stark contrast of our skin tones, my deep black against his pale white. Nathan's breathing was deep and even, so I thought he must still be asleep until I heard him rumble, "Good morning, Midnight."

I whispered, "Morning, my Love."

We lay silently for a moment until he murmured, "Penny?"

I sighed, "Two things. First, my new favourite flavour combination is chocolate and vanilla."

Nathan raised his head to look at me quizzically before he too, saw the contrasting colour of our entwined bodies, "I see," he grinned, "And the other?"

I rested my head back on his chest and asked, rather more seriously, "Am I still living the dream, or is this when reality bites?"

He struggled briefly to untangle himself from me and I laid back on my side of the bed, my expression was carefully blank and my eyes never left him. He rolled on to his side facing me as he rested on his elbow. He drew a gentle finger along my jawline and I felt an involuntary tic as we regarded each other silently. He gave me that half smile, leaned down and kissed me gently, "It's a new day and nothing's changed... I love you, Midnight."

I smiled and touched his cheek, "Good."

Nathan kissed me again and I felt his tongue against my lips, I grimaced slightly and turned my face away, "Oh no! I have death breath. No kissing until I've brushed my teeth."

He laughed, "Don't care."

Then he pulled my face back towards his and kissed me again. I couldn't resist. My lips parted to accept his invading tongue. Once again, my beautiful man lit a fire in my belly and I moaned as his fingers explored my skin. And then... and then... I was lost.

Soon we were locked together, sharing our love in that most physical way. Wallowing in the lustful sensations that filled our bodies, we delighted in the giving and receiving of carnal pleasure.

Eventually ­ when the screaming stopped ­ we crawled out of bed and climbed into a shared shower. Taking our time, we made sure that we were clean, although I must admit it took a while, as both of us took many liberties with the other's person.

I had never shared a shower before, but vowed that I would definitely be doing it again! There is something so very intimate about sharing a shower with your lover. Touching, stroking and kissing your partner over absolutely every inch of their body and allowing them to do the same to you. Sex is deeply personal, but sharing kisses and showering together are deeply intimate... And yes! There is a difference.

I quickly dried and dressed and gave Nathan a peck on the cheek, before shooing him out to his own room so that he could brush his teeth and get dressed. I giggled as I watched him throw on a bathrobe and then scurry back to his own room next door.

Presently we found ourselves in the dining room for breakfast. We were running a little late due to our morning activities, but discovered that we were amongst the first to appear. Apparently almost everybody was somewhat worse for wear this morning.

As we sat in a comfortable silence eating breakfast and sharing smiles, I saw Diana appear at the door wearing a satisfied grin, she grabbed a cup of coffee and joined us at the table, "Good morning."

I answered, "Morning. Enjoy your whisky? And your barman?"

She laughed, "Yes and Hell yes! Younger men are good stress relievers."

I giggled, but Nathan blushed and was suddenly very interested in what was on his plate. Diana looked between us briefly and then broke out into a grin that I can only describe as evil. She said, "Tell me... Did you two enjoy yourselves last night?"

He almost choked on his food, but managed to swallow it and then took a sip of orange juice, "Wh.. What do you mean?"

Diana shared a smile with me and said, "Oh come on! I only have to look at you both wearing those 'I just got some' faces. You got busy last night and you can't deny it!"

I watched Nathan blush bright red and I found myself unable to meet Diana's gaze. Nathan spluttered, "I'm sure I don't know what­"

She interrupted, "Oh come on! I can see just by looking at you both. And you know what? It's about bloody time!"

Nathan glanced at me but remained strangely silent.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, but he simply shook his head and said, "We can talk later."

My face must have been a picture, because Diana looked from one to the other of us and said, "I, erm, need to chat with my boys over there... I'll leave you two in peace."

She moved to another table where couple of students were munching their way through a mountain of toast.

I frowned at Nathan, "What do you mean, we'll talk later?"

He stared at his breakfast, "It's awkward."

"What is?"

Still looking uncomfortable, he mumbled, "I'm just... It's... The thing is... I'm a very private person... I don't like people knowing about my personal business."

Suddenly suspicious, I said, "Nathan, are you ashamed of what happened? Of us? Of me?"

Nathan looked like I had just slapped him around the face, "Oh God! Midnight, no! Never that... It's just... I don't want us to be the subject of office gossip. I've seen before how much damage that sort of shit can do... I... I want our relationship to be discrete. It is after all, our business, nobody else's, just ours. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, I suppose it does... In a way," I sighed, "I think it's a mistake and I'm not sure I like it... But if you want to keep quiet about us, then I promise, I won't advertise it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. The way I see it, you're being over cautious, but if you want to continue the charade that we're simply employer and employee then that's what we'll do."

He still didn't seem happy, so I continued, "Nathan, I love you beyond belief, and if this little thing makes you happy, then I'm willing to do it... I won't advertise that we're together. But I also want you to understand, I won't lie... If somebody asks outright, I'll tell them the truth."

I received his smile, and once again his eyes had that mesmeric quality that held me in place so easily.

He smiled, "Deal."

I saw Luke and Allison come into the dining room, they looked very tired and were studiously ignoring each other. Allison waved, and wandered over, "Good night last night, wasn't it?"

Nathan busied himself with his breakfast and I smiled, "Definitely. Although you look like you really tied one on, Young Lady. Eyes like piss holes in the snow."

She gave us a mischievous grin, "Oh no, but I didn't get much sleep."

"Why not?"

She waggled her eyebrows and said, "I dunno if you realise, Manni, but my room is directly above yours. More than a few loud noises kept us awake half the night."

Nathan blushed furiously. His breakfast must have been fascinating. I grinned at him, "Uh­huh. Discrete. Yeah."

Allison giggled, but then stopped when a thought occurred to me and I stared at her.

"What?" she asked

"You said, 'kept us awake'" I flicked my eyes at Luke as he stood at the hotplate, and then back to Allison, "Something you want to share perhaps."

Allison's face was a picture. She blushed bright red and then stammered, "I... Erm... Oh look! Have they just put the sausages out? Mmmm yummy. Must dash."

I shared a look with Nathan and then we both laughed as Allison scurried away.

Later that morning, we were back at the dig site. Allison and Luke were already working their squares, whilst Nathan and I worked in the tent. He was writing up a report and I was going through the emails as usual. There were a couple that would need his attention, but no rush. It didn't help that I couldn't resist stopping work to smile at him, he would look back at me with those wonderful eyes and smile gently back and we would share a silent moment before returning to our work.

A small transit van pulled into the carpark and two workmen climbed out, then they unloaded a large crate and a couple of smaller square wooden boxes. Then they carried the crate past our dig and up the slope.

"What's that about?" I wondered aloud.

Nathan replied, "They'll be here to collect Diana's skeleton."

"Ah."

As I was finished, I made my way to where Alice was waiting and continued with my excavation.

And that was pretty much the day until the late afternoon.

I had cleared most of the earth from around the tail, body, skull and both right legs and was ready to clear away the remaining two legs. Allison was collecting soil samples from around the egg as she had not found any other complete eggs, and Luke had found another couple of bones in his square. He didn't know what they were from yet, but he knew they weren't Hylaeosaurus.

Presently, the workmen and a couple of students back back down the slope carrying the crate, obviously now containing the Saxon skeleton, followed by Diana and the others carrying the small boxes. None of them looked terribly happy.

After the crates and boxes had been loaded back in the van and it had left, Diana led her students to their admin tent and they went inside.

We three decided to finish for the day and headed over to the car park. We found the students sat around in their tent looking dejected and Nathan deep in conversation with Diana. He said, "Well you never know. Geophys are coming tomorrow, they might find something."

I asked, "What's up?"

Diana glanced at me and replied, "We have a partial skeleton, a few trinkets and bugger all else!"

"Nothing?"

"Nope! We dug deeper and had a look at what we thought might be a segment of wall. Turns out to be a natural rock formation, not man made."

"Sorry to hear that," I commiserated, "Still, like Nathan said, you have the Radar blokes coming tomorrow. Hopefully they can dig something up... No pun intended."

"Yeah, I suppose."

That night, Nathan and I were snuggled together in bed, after making love. I was still coming down from the high of my screaming orgasms and lay with my head resting on Nathan's chest. I could feel his fingers stroking lightly up and down my spine and I moaned softly. In my turn, my fingers were drawing invisible circles and flowing curves from where my chin was snuggled against his body down to the top edge of his pubic hair.

The aroma of our arousal was still heavy in the air and our bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. We laid there in silence for long minutes, simply enjoying the loving closeness, and I could feel rather than hear the gentle beat of Nathan's heart. 

I sighed dreamily and asked, "When did you know?"

"When did I know, what?" he murmured.

"When did you know that you loved me?"

He was silent for a moment and then replied softly, "To be honest, I'm not sure. I think I drifted into love with you without noticing. I mean, from the day I met you, I knew there was something special about you, but I was never able to put my finger on it. All I know is one day I was happy and contented and then the next I was in pain."

My brow crinkled, "In pain?"

"Yes. I knew that I was in love with you, but I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know if you felt the same way and I was scared to ask. I didn't want to risk offending you and maybe ruining things and losing you altogether. I was scared that if I told you how I felt, then you'd have to leave. I couldn't stand that."

I grinned, "We need to work on our communication skills."

He laughed briefly and then lapsed back into a thoughtful silence for a moment before he said, "I was in pain. I loved you and couldn't tell you. I couldn't stand the agony of being so close to you all the time without... I needed you in my life, but at the same time, I couldn't stand to have you so close all the time and still be out of reach."

"That explains a lot."

"What about you? When did you know?"

I thought long and hard before I responded, "I can tell you exactly when knew I'd fallen in love with you... And I also know exactly when I actually did fall for you."

"Go on. When did you know?"

"It was when you were away on your last trip. I was coming home from... I was coming home from an errand... and I couldn't help thinking about what you meant to me. It was the first time I can remember saying to myself that I was in love with you."

"Okay... So if that's when you knew, when did you actually fall in love with me?"

"Oh that's easy. I didn't know it at the time, but looking back, it's obvious... It was when I was stood in a certain cafe on Cottingham Road and asked if you wanted your table cleared, then you looked at me for the first time with those fucking beautiful eyes."

I could hear the grin in his voice, "You think I have beautiful eyes?"

I moved to rest my weight on my elbow and looked him straight in the face. I shivered slightly as I fell once again into those hypnotic, blue orbs. I gave him a soft kiss and murmured, "You have absolutely no idea."

His hand slid up from my spine to hold the back of my neck and one kiss turned into two kisses, which turned into many kisses.

Once again, we surrendered to the urgent need we shared and soon our naked bodies were moving as one. Our loving was gentle, it was tender... It was a delight beyond my capability to describe, and it wasn't long before my beautiful Nathan had me screaming again.

The next morning, we arrived at the dig to find the Geophys team setting up their equipment in a tent they had already erected. There were four young men working under the direction of a rather distinguished­looking, older gentleman dressed in tweeds.

They were clearly well practiced as it wasn't long before they had their computers up and running. Then I watched them unload what looked like a couple of homemade and overly large metal detectors. They were basically wooden frames with wires stretched across them and long rope handles, one on each side. There was a backpack next to each one, connected by a thick, rubberised cable.




Midnight Ch. 07



Diana introduced us the man in charge, "Guys this is Arnold Hendrik, he heads our Geophys at York. Arnold this is Nathan Smethwick and Manni Mwenye from Hull Uni."

We shook hands and then moved back to our work, whilst Diana instructed Arnold where to direct his search.

The two teams moved to the top of the slope with their equipment and started scanning the top field in straight line back and forth to about 100 metres north from the edge. Our little group carried on working on our grid, whilst Diana sat in a folding chair outside her tent. She was waiting for the Geophys team to provide her with some results before she could do anything. Her students were standing around chatting quietly and one or two came over to watch us work.

A couple of hours later, Arnold called Diana into his tent, then a few minutes after that she came out wearing a dejected expression. She flopped down back in her chair and took a nip from her hipflask.

I tapped Nathan's arm and then nodded towards her. We stood up and made our way over.

Nathan asked, "Bad news?"

Diana took another sip from her hip flask and then put it back in her pocket before she replied dully, "Complete bust. Absolutely no trace of anything," she rubbed her mouth, "If there was a settlement here, then it must have run south... Right where they fucking blew it up!"

She sat in silence for a moment and then spat,"Bollocks!"

I patted her on the shoulder, "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted to find something. But you still have the skeleton... That's something at least."

She sighed, "Yeah. I suppose."

Nathan asked, "So what now?"

"Now? We pack up and go home. I've already asked Arnold to scan your bit down here... May as well hang about and see if he finds something before we go, though."

Then she lapsed back into silence. We decided to leave her in peace and headed back to Alice.

It was getting to the point where I would need to stop digging her out. Her bones weren't connected together because connective tissue doesn't fossilise, and as I dug more soil away, there was a danger of them sliding about and possibly getting broken, mixed up or lost. I wasn't happy, but I knew that it was near the time when the experts had to take over.

Still, I thought happily, not yet. I could scrape away a bit more before Nathan pulled me away.

The Geophys teams started scanning our area. They started next to us and moved away to the west to the far edge of the slope about 400 metres away, walking backwards and forwards until they had covered the entire area.

Then they all returned to their tent. A minute or so later, they came back out and hurried past us wearing excited faces. We watched them scurry off to the far western slope.

Nathan and I exchanged a glance and then headed over to the Geophys tent. As we neared it, we heard an exclamation of surprise, "I don't believe it!"

We hurried over and as we stood at the flap of the tent, we stared at the Arnold as he appeared to vibrate with nervous energy. Yet again we heard him shout, "I don't believe this!"

Hearing the commotion, Diana came across and asked, "What's going on?"

Nathan said, "Don't know. But something's set Arnold off."

Realising that he had an audience, Arnold looked up from his computer screen and said, "Come here. You have to see this!"

All three of us entered the tent and crowded around his screen. I had no clue what I was looking at, but Nathan and Diana were very interested in the display.

Diana said, "Come on then, Arnold. Give us a clue."

He picked up a pen and pointed to various dark shapes on the screen, "As you can see there's lots of traces here. We can't move for them."

Nathan murmured, "So we've got a few more fossils down there."

His eyes sparkled as Arnold said, "I don't think you understand. Here, look!"

He clicked his mouse a few times and displayed several more screens of results. I'll be honest, it still meant very little to me, just blobs of black and varying shades of grey. But it was clearly starting to excite Nathan and Diana.

Diana whispered, "This is big."

"How big?" I asked.

Arnold was sweating now, "Huge."

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN



Midnight Ch. 08



All four of us stood in silence for a moment or two, then Nathan broke out into a wide grin, "Looks like we'll need a few more diggers."

Arnold glanced at his screen briefly, "When I say huge, I am really not joking."

I must admit, their nervous energy was beginning to infect me too, even though I still had no idea why. Again I asked, "Okay, so it's huge... How huge is huge?"

The Geophysicist faced me and said, "Are you familiar with a place called Zhu City in China?"

Confused, I looked from Nathan to Diana. Both of whom were now wide eyed.

"As big as that?" asked Nathan in awed tones, "That's fantastic!"

"What? What is it? What's Zhu City?" I asked.

Diana flopped into one of the folding chairs and stared glassily into space, she murmured, "Bloody Hell."

Nathan too looked somewhat shell­shocked as he stood there absently tapping the heels of his hands together.

Exasperated, I shrieked, "Why do I always have to ask twenty fucking times before someone answers me? What the fuck is Zhu City?"

Nathan zoned back into the room and looked at me. Abashed, he said, "Sorry Midnight... Erm... Zhu City is a place in China where they dug a trench about 300 metres or so and they found dinosaur bones... Lots of them," he grinned mischieviously at Diana, "I think we'll have enough to share."

Diana jumped up, "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"I see no reason why not."

Diana gave him a fierce hug. Clearly all thoughts of the lost Saxon settlement now driven from her head.

I coughed meaningfully, not altogether happy about Diana in a clinch with my Nathan.

She threw me a quick look and then stood away from Nathan, she was blushing, "Erm... Yeah... Sorry... Anyway, Zhu City. They found about 9,600 fossils. If we have that sort of number, we're looking at many years of work."

To our surprise, Arnold shouted, "No! You still don't understand! Zhu City was 300 metres long. We've scanned an area over 400 by 100 metres and we're still finding positive results. I've even sent my boys up onto the slope at the western end and although I can't be certain," he looked at me directly, knowing I would need extra explanation, "The fossils will be buried too deep there to be sure, but initial results suggest that it continues even further. Also, we have no idea how far north it goes under the spur. Anyway, if the results come back positive, this site doesn't rival Zhu City... It dwarfs it!"

I must admit I was smiling now, "So our dig site is bigger than this Zhu City place. Cool!"

Nathan took a firm hold of my arm, "Midnight, you... You may want to sit down for this."

"What?"

"Well, not only did you discover what is definitely the biggest dinosaur field in Europe... It's possibly the single biggest find in the world."

Oh fuck!

I needed a minute to get my head around this particular nugget of information.

So... I'd found a dinosaur... Cool!

Which turned out to be possibly a new one... Way cool!

And only one of many fossils... Better and better!

That could be the biggest find in the world... Nope! Can't handle this.

The rush of blood in my ears was deafening. My head was pounding, and my heart was thumping at a thousand beats per minute. My legs were turning to jelly. I held on tightly to Nathan, desperately trying to keep control. I was losing the sensation in my hands and feet and my arms started to twitch uncontrollably. Tears were flowing freely as I looked up into Nathan's shocked face and sobbed, "Shit like this doesn't happen to people like me."

My eyes rolled back into my head and it all went dark.

I came to surrounded by blurred images that slowly resolved into three concerned faces. Nathan was holding my hand, "Are you okay, Midnight."

Blearily I answered, "Think so."

"Do you know where you are?"

I glanced around, "Yes. I'm on the floor."

Nathan helped me to stand up and sat me in a chair that Diana pulled over from by the table. Arnold poured a coffee from a thermos flask and offered it to me. I took a sip and then screwed up my face, "Blergh!"

Arnold asked, "What's the matter?"

"You could have put some fucking sugar in it!"

Nathan grinned, "I think she's fine."

I looked at him, "Not sure to be honest. I had this strange dream where you told me I'd discovered the biggest dinosaur field in the world."

"That wasn't a dream."

"Oh."

I sat in silence for a moment. It was still too big a deal for me to take in. Eventually I asked, "So what happens now?"

Diana piped up, "Now we do some digging and then make some more phone calls. We've got a mountain to climb."

With that, she headed out of the tent and I could hear her shouting for all the students to congregate at her admin tent. Arnold returned to his computer and started printing out hard copies of his images. Then he too headed out to talk to the Geophys teams. Nathan and I remained in the tent. He stroked my cheek and said softly, "Are you sure you're okay? This must be a bit overwhelming."

I sighed, "No, I'm good. Still don't quite believe it though."

"Understandable."

Still somewhat shaky on my legs, Nathan helped me to stand and then we followed Diana to the admin tent. When we got there we saw Diana surrounded by the students as she addressed them, "Right kids, as you know, the Saxon settlement is a bust," she paused to shake her head sadly, "But that's by the by. I have new tasks for all of you. Working individually, pick a spot at random and dig until you find evidence of fossil remains. Don't dig it out, simply mark the spot with a stake and then find another one. Keep at it until you've covered the entire area out from Alice to a distance of 100 metres that way," she indicated direction with a wave of her arms, she watched her students who stood in confused silence, "MOVE!"

The small crowd scattered to carry out her instructions and Diana turned to face Luke and Allison, "If you could join them it'd help."

Luke and Allison glanced at each other, and then Allison said, "But Dr Smethwick told us to keep working on our grid..."

Diana smiled, " I know that, but there's a change of plan and a big game may be afoot. I'm asking you to help the effort. We need to get some information back and then we'll be in a position to tell you what we know. Okay?

Luke and Allison glanced uncertainly at Nathan who nodded and then indicated with a flick of his head for them to comply. They shared a confused look and then hurried away to join Diana's students with the new task at hand.

I looked out across the area to see the students moving around, digging into the earth with their trowels. I was amazed at just how many times the digging stopped and a stake was placed. In the distance we could see Arnold directing his teams to re-scan the ground as it sloped back up and out of the scar. Then he came hurrying back and disappeared back into his tent.

I looked at Nathan and said, "You know what?"

He turned to face me, "What?"

"When we get to bed tonight..."

"Yes?"

I gazed back out at the hive of activity unfolding before us, "I'm gonna suck you inside out."

He laughed and drew me into a hug, "I love you, Midnight."

At this point, Diana wandered back towards us, "Oi! Get a room!" she giggled, "Come on, let's go and see what Arnold's up to."

Making our way back into the Geophys tent, we could see Arnold once again transfixed by the information building on his screens as the teams transmitted their data back. We watched in silence until finally, Arnold waved us over, "Look," he indicated dark areas on his screen again, "I got the boys to boost the power. Probably gonna burn the scanners out, but we are getting deeper into the ground. Look here, here and here."

He swivelled around on his chair to face us, "The field extends at least another 50 metres west.

I'm willing to stake my professional reputation, my first born and the sexual favours of my wife that we've hit the absolute jackpot!"

All four of us raced back outside and looked at the sea of stakes covering the ground. Nathan shouted for everyone to come back in. Once everyone was back, he addressed them, "Right! Listen in please. From this point on, what you hear is in strictest confidence, no talking about this site to anyone outside this group," he waved his hands for silence and waited for the excited muttering to die down, "I can't stress this enough! Absolutely nothing to anyone without the express permission of myself, Dr Pranaju or Professor Hendrik."

He then went on to explain exactly what we had found. The crowd listened in shocked silence.

More than one mouth hung open.

Nathan finished off, "Okay. We're going to arrange for the Earth Science Departments of Hull and York to be informed of our preliminary findings," he glanced at me, "Midnight, you'll be coming with me. I'll need you to put together a PowerPoint okay?"

I nodded.

He then turned back to the crowd, "Professor Hendrik, if you could take a couple of strong backs for digging some test pits, see if you can get some better results on the western slope and if you could email me all the images as and when you get them. Diana, if I could ask you to remain here and supervise the investigation of the area we've staked," he paused as Arnold and Diana nodded agreement, he grinned, "And nobody, but nobody is to touch Alice... That's Midnight's job."

There was general laughter and an excited buzz of muttered conversations. Nathan asked Diana, "Can you arrange for as many of your people as possible to get to Hull tomorrow afternoon?"

"For this? We'll be beating them off with a shitty stick!"

"Okay, say 2 PM? I'll let you know which lecture theatre I can get."

She nodded and then bustled off to make her calls and then to take control of the students.

Nathan smiled at me and then made a call of his own, "Hello Paula? It's Nathan. Tell me, is there a lecture room free for tomorrow afternoon?... Good, can you book it for me. I know it's short notice, sorry about that, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important... Okay... Thanks... Can you put me through to Dr Murtaugh?"

He waited and when the call was picked up he explained the situation in as much detail as he could, he finished off, "Okay Paul? I'd like as many of the Earth Sciences faculty as possible to attend... Okay... Yes, Diana Pranaju's going to stay here in charge and she's getting lots of hers from York to attend as well... Yep... I know, it's amazing... Okay, see you tomorrow... Bye."

Nathan turned to me and said, "Right! Lets get some photos."

We both spent the next hour using our mobile phones to take photographs of anything and everything all around the dig site. Nathan insisted that I pose with Alice, something to which I was far from averse. She was my friend after all. But I also demanded that we had a photo of Alice with me on one side and Nathan on the other.

"That'll be for my desk," I smiled.

Once it was decided we had enough, we hit the road. Not even stopping at the pub to get our clothes, we simply headed straight back to Hull.

"No point," Nathan explained, "We'll stay at home tonight and be back here tomorrow evening."

To be honest, it amazed me how animated Nathan had become and I was also surprised at how he had immediately taken control of the situation, he was displaying a level of confidence that I hadn't seen before. It seemed to me that I wasn't the only one with hidden depths.

We arrived back home at about 7PM. Once inside, Nathan fired up my Mac whilst I popped out to the chip shop for some food. When I got back, he had already started extracting images from his emails from Arnold onto the Desktop.

We sat down together eating sausage and chips straight from the paper and discussed what he wanted for the presentation. I balled up my empty food wrapping, dropped it in the bin and then made a start.

It was a simple enough affair. Just a photo per slide overlaid with one or two bullet points.

Nathan said, "I'll just wing the meat and gravy of it," he grinned and wrapped an arm around my shoulder causing the usual bolts of electricity and shivers, then he continued, "I've never worked so fast. Still, we need to strike while the iron's hot. And we need some proper confirmation before it all becomes public knowledge."

Once the presentation was completed, Nathan insisted that I was credited on the introduction page, so I quickly added my name under his and saved it in the shared directory.

I looked at my watch, "Blimey! It's nearly ten. What are we going to do now?"

Nathan planted a quick kiss on my cheek and smiled, "I recall someone made a threat earlier today."

I gave him a predatory smile, "Oh yeah," I grabbed his hand, "I'll race you to your room."

He pulled me up short, "No."

I looked puzzled until he said, "I'll race you to our room."

My face was beaming as I dragged him upstairs and did my very best to wear him out.

I think we called it a draw at about 1:30 AM.

The next morning found us back at Hull University. As we stood at the back of the car, Nathan grabbed his briefcase. He closed the rear door with a clunk and then took my hand in his, "Remember Midnight, I'd really rather nobody here knew about us."

I smiled gently at him and said, "It's okay. I understand."

Together we started towards Earth Sciences and talked as we walked, "Honestly Midnight. I just don't want you thinking I'm embarrassed or ashamed. I'm really not."

I was smiling to myself, "Nathan, I get it. I really do."

As we neared the building, I could see Paula through the window, she was sat at her desk busily typing away. She glanced up and spied us heading towards the front door of the building, when a smirk grew on her face. I waved and grinned back at her.

Nathan didn't notice, he continued, "I just don't want our relationship to change the office dynamic."

I glanced at him, he was clearly ill at ease, but I was beaming, "We've been through this already."

I could see that Paula had ceased typing and sat watching us, with her chin resting in her cupped hands, her grin wider than ever.

Nathan said, "I just like to keep my private life private."

"Yes Dear."

Nathan chuckled,"Sorry. I know I'm being silly. It's just I don't like my personal business being the talk of the department."

As we neared the building, I laughed, "Oh, I think it's too late for that."

"What do you mean?"

I nodded towards the window. He looked and we could see Paula, still smirking at us as she chattered excitedly into her phone. Nathan was puzzled, "Eh?"

"Nathan my Love... Look down."

He did so and I watched as the light dawned, "Shit," he muttered, "It'll be all over the department by coffee break."

I smiled broadly, "And all over the university by lunch."

Nathan hadn't realised it, but he had been holding my hand all the way from the car.

Nathan sighed, "Oh shit!"

As we passed Paula's desk, she offered us a wicked grin, "Good morning Dr Smethwick, enjoying the dig so far?"

He glared at her, "Not a word!" and stomped into our office.

She winked at me and then shrieked with laughter before she returned to her typing.

Nathan fired up his PC and started checking through the presentation again. It was obvious that he was upset by the fact that our relationship would soon be common knowledge around the campus.

I stood behind him and started to massage his shoulders as he sat at his desk. Speaking gently, I said, "Nathan, I'm sorry but did you really think it would remain secret? Even if you hadn't held my hand?"

He sagged, "I suppose not. It's just... I like to keep private things private... You know?"

"Good luck with that. It's like living in a goldfish bowl around here."

Nathan laughed, "I suppose. Still I just hope it doesn't cause any issues. I don't want people thinking... I don't know... That I was unprofessional."

"What do you mean?"

"That maybe I pressured you into anything."

I couldn't help smiling, "Nathan my Love, the only pressure I was under, was the pressure of keeping my hands off you... Almost from the day I met you."

We heard a nervous cough and looked up to see Paula stood quietly in the doorway. She looked embarrassed and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to listen in, but I couldn't help overhearing..."

Nathan looked angry, "What do you want, Paula?" he snapped.

"Well, the thing is... I'm not sure how to say this, but... Everybody already knew."

He looked scandalised, "What do you mean?"

Paula smiled gently, "I'm sorry to have to say this, but you're a pair of idiots. You two have been an item since day one. I saw it and over the months, so did everybody else. Seems to me, the only people who didn't," she waved her index finger at us, "were you two."

Now both of us must have looked shocked as Paula shrugged,"Sorry. Just thought you should know."

Then, with a wink, she closed the door and I assume, returned to her desk.

Nathan looked like he was in shock, "Really? Everyone already..."

It was then that something occurred to me. When Allison had been talking to me in the minibus back at the dig site, she had made a slip of the tongue. She had started to refer the Nathan as my boyfriend, but then corrected herself and called him my boss. Looks like Paula wasn't wrong.

I leaned down and draped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, "Discrete. Yeah. Sorry my Love but the cat is well and truly out of the bag."

Nathan leaned his head against mine and laughed, "I was being a bit silly, wasn't I?"

"It's okay, even a super genius can have an off day... Never mind that now though, let's make sure the presentation's set up."

After lunch, we made our way to the Faraday Lecture Hall and found that Dr Murtaugh had already herded most of the Earth Science department there. We could also see a number of faces we didn't recognise filing in and taking seats.

Nathan watched them for a moment, "Must be the blokes from York."

I made my way to the stage to set up the projection system and then waited. Nathan joined after a brief whispered conversation with Dr Murtaugh. Then he called for everyone's attention and when he had it, launched into his presentation.

First he gave an overview of the area and then went on to talk about the possibility of a Saxon settlement, which turned out to be a bust.

And then he started talking about my discovery of Alice, and I was quietly proud to hear just how heartily he stressed that she was was my discovery. He covered the initial investigation of Alice and how both he and Dr Pranaju came to the same conclusion that Alice was the first example of what he had tentatively named Hylaeosaurus Mediam, obviously subject to confirmation by the committee responsible for ratifying names of new species.

Then he went on to talk about the Geophy results and mentioned Professor Hendrik's thoughts on how much more extensive the dinosaur field could be.

I must admit, I was once again amazed at just how animated he was when discussing the subject he loved and also how good he was at taking command of the situation... So very different than the behaviour he displayed in social situations, such as faculty cocktail parties, etc, very few of which he attended anyway. I had to admit, it was like watching two different people.

At several points, various people had attempted to ask questions, but he politely brushed them off and said that all questions would be answered at the end. But apart from those random interruptions, the room was completely silent as the audience sat, hanging off his every word.

He than said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, that's the end of our presentation. Are there any questions?"

After a long moment of silence, the room erupted.

Nathan was unable to make himself heard over the cacophony of questions being thrown from all quarters, so Dr Murtaugh and another man I didn't recognise, joined us on stage.




Midnight Ch. 08



Dr Murtaugh raised his hand for silence until the voices died down. Then he said, "On behalf of myself and Dr Lloyd, head of Earth Sciences at York," he indicated the man stood next to him, "I'd like to thank Dr Smethwick and Miss Mwenye for a fascinating and illuminating presentation. If you have a question, please raise your hand and we'll nominate. Thank you."

The room was immediately a sea of raised arms. Nathan nominated and answered the questions as best he could, most of which were very technical in nature, and I'll be honest, if Erica had been there speaking Klingon to me, I would have had more chance of understanding.

But none of them fazed my Nathan. However one question did make my ear prick up. Someone asked, "Why Midnight?"

Dr Murtaugh agreed, "Actually, yes Dr Smethwick. Why did you name the specimen, Hylaeosaurus Mediam?"

Nathan had the decency to blush as he answered, "Well, I named Alice after her discoverer. Miss Mwenye's first name is Usiku Wa Manane, which is Swahili for midnight. I just thought it fitting that as Miss Mwenye found Alice, if it's confirmed that she is a new sub species, it should be named after her."

There was general laughter in the room at that. More I suspect for the expression on my face than anything else.

Nathan looked at me somewhat shamefacedly, "Sorry, Midnight. This isn't how I meant you to find out."

My beaming smile told him he wasn't in trouble.

Once the questions were all done, Dr Lloyd then spoke, "Right, it seems that we have a great deal of work ahead of us. I'll stay behind for a meeting with Dr Murtaugh and Dr Smethwick. I'd like all heads of department to start working up plans of action and I'd like them on my desk no later than the day after tomorrow."

Dr Murtaugh then said, "The same for my people too please. I think that's us done here for now. Thank you very much ladies and gents."

The room emptied rapidly amidst a buzz of excitement leaving just us four on the stage. Dr Murtaugh said, "I think we should discuss this back at my office," he looked at me, "Manni, normally I'd get my secretary to take notes, but I think it would be wise if you did this time, since you're already in the loop. That's if Dr Smethwick doesn't mind."

Nathan grinned, "Of course not. Actually I was going to insist she sat in anyway."

Dr Murtaugh led us back to his office. As we chatted on the way, I heard him chuckle and I knew why. Without thinking about it, Nathan had taken my hand in his and held it all the way back to the Earth Sciences building.

Nathan and I arrived back at the Hanged Man at about nine o'clock that night and met up with Diana in the bar. We quickly filled her in on the meeting that we'd had with Dr's Murtaugh and Lloyd.

Then we had a drink or two and retired to bed. And before you ask. Yes. There was screaming involved.

Back at the dig site, the next day. I finally reached the point where I had to stop digging Alice out.

Just before lunch, a van arrived carrying a couple of faces I recognised, but couldn't name.

They calmly took over the retrieval of Alice. Taking the bones one at a time and placing them carefully in ziploc bags with sticky labels attached, which were then scribbled on with details of the bone it contained, the date, time and a reference number.

Each bone was placed in a crate that they had brought with them and surrounded with polystyrene packing as they were packed.

I must admit, I was sad to see her go. It was like saying goodbye to an old friend. Nathan must have picked up on my mood, because he threw an arm around my shoulders and said, "You'll see her again. They're taking her to Hull for the full examination."

I sighed, "I know. It just feels strange," I looked at him, "You'll probably think I'm being silly. But this is her home. This is where she belongs. Not on an examination table at Hull University."

Nathan smiled, "No. It's not silly... Come on, let them do their job. We've got other things to do."

The remainder of our day was spent on the phone or computer dealing with the initial organisation of what was going to be a very large operation indeed.

To be honest, at the time, we had no idea just how much of an impact this place would have on our lives.

Over the next few days, most of our time was taken up with visits from people who had been informed of the find, from personnel from both Hull and York who needed to have a look at the place to people from the Museums in London as well as the British Palaeontological Society.

We also received confirmation from the lab that Alice was indeed the first Hylaeosaurus Mediam to be discovered and that the naming committee had agreed the name... Nathan got it BIG TIME that night!

Then the portacabins started arriving. We had offices, labs, accommodation, a field kitchen and even a toilet and shower facility. They were delivered on the backs of low loaders and lifted into place by a huge crane. They were arranged in a U shape around the edges of the area we had designated the car park. Then, the camp was plumbed in to the water and electricity mains.

The tents that we had set up were struck and we took over some of the office and lab space in the portacabins.

I'll be honest, I wasn't enamoured about using the accommodation because it was ­ at best ­ basic. But Nathan assured me, that we would continue to live at the Hanged Man when we spent time here.

Yes I know! Having spent time living at Orchard Park and a stint on the streets, I should know better than to turn my nose up. But Nathan had spoiled me a bit. It's not an excuse, it's a reason. Anyway I make no apologies for it. Call it a character flaw on my part if you must... I really couldn't give a fuck!

Roughing it? Been there, done that. Once is enough and I'm never doing it again. Not if I can help it.

Anyway, the place became a hive of activity, most of which I didn't understand, so I spent most of my time smiling, nodding and trying not to get under people's feet.

Then the press conference was called. I had expected Nathan to play a part, but he opted to allow Dr Murtaugh and Dr Lloyd to handle it. Whilst he felt able to deal with his fellow professionals, he baulked at talking to the press.

Well, what can I tell you? We made international news... Briefly

And our names and faces were plastered all over the national news as well. I must say, it's the most bizarre feeling to know that millions of people around the world know your name.

We also go many requests from universities and museums around the world for a view and possibly the opportunity to send their own teams to help at the site. Dealing with that became almost a full time job on its own.

Whilst Hull and York would always have first pick, it was decided for political reasons that it might be wise to open up the site to other institutions. Access was limited as we didn't want the world and his wife trampling all over the place.

Another problem that reared its ugly head was amateurs turning up. Don't get me wrong, I am no snob when it comes to amateurs... I couldn't be! The problem was that they would often do a great deal of damage. One bloke was found trying to dig out the skull of a Baronyx that had been found in the north western corner of the scar. 

Point one: He was hacking at it with a pickaxe. 

Point two: How he expected to fuck off with it is beyond me. The skull was over four feet long!

The upshot was that we had to engage a security firm to patrol the dig site and keep the fossil hunters at bay.

Big as this all was though, it wasn't our whole life. Nathan still had his duties at the University as well as Cheddar Gorge and one or two sites around the word that he really didn't want to give up.

Allison and Luke were soon to leave us as well. Both of them were nearing the end of their studies and had to write their doctoral theses. And I... Was doing what I did to look after Nathan.

I must admit, after the excitement of the initial find, Drydenthorpe was becoming less and less the fun that it had been and I was rather glad to start getting back to some sort of normality.

Not least of which was the exercise we enjoyed in our bed at home. It had a memory foam mattress and was much more comfortable for bedroom athletics than the rooms at the Hanged Man. Like I said, I was getting used to the creature comforts.

So, life went on, but now with much more screaming on my part.

So that was pretty much it for the next few months. At least for Nathan and I. One bittersweet moment was attending Allison and Luke's graduation ceremony where they received their diplomas. Sweet because they had both completed seven long years of hard work to acheive their aim, and bitter because it meant they were moving on.

Luke had been shortlisted for a place at the Palaeontology department of the British Museum, whilst Allison had been offered a research position at Essex University. More than a few tears were shed that day, I can tell you.

Oh, Nathan had other students to mentor over the years, but only Allison and Luke formed such a deep bond with us whilst they were here.

I passed my A Levels, and now had to seriously consider taking on a degree in Archaeology. I had time. After all, Nathan had assured me that should I want it, a place would be found for me at Hull. Nepotism is a wonderful thing.

Also, Erica finally gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. They named him David, but as far as I'm aware, he was always called Davie. Her pregnancy was not a happy time for Erica, she had health issues from the beginning and it didn't help that her baby was huge. Far too big for her to give birth normally, so a Caesarean was on the cards to welcome Davie Hardcastle (10lb 9oz) into the world.

Alan point blank refused to put Erica through that again, and had the snip. They were not fated to be the parents of a rugby team after all.

We went to visit Erica in hospital and to present Davie with a giant teddy bear. Just looking at him in the bassinet by Erica's bed, his parentage could never be in doubt. He had blond hair and emerald green eyes, courtesy of his Mum and he was the size of a fucking grizzly bear, just like his Dad.

The same Alan who was terrified to pick him up in case Davie got broken in his huge hands.

Anyway, after a few long discussions with, and encouragement from Nathan. I decided that I would sign up for the degree course in Archaeology. I hadn't planned on going on any digs, but Nathan thought I should go on at least a couple for the experience more than anything else.

I must admit, I actually did want to go out to a dig or two if I was being brutally honest. Finding Alice had been one of the best things I had ever done and I was eager to repeat the experience.

Nathan told me that he could get me a six week slot at the Neolithic Settlement in Cheddar Gorge over the summer, and I would definitely be welcome at Drydenthorpe if I wanted to go there as a student, rather than as an administrator.

Sorted!

But we had a couple of blips to deal with before my courses started. The first one in particular left a bitter taste in my mouth.

We were working away in the office, when Nathan received a letter from Human Resources. It seemed that he had been accused of racism and had to face a disciplinary hearing. Nobody in the department from Dr Murtaugh down to Paula could understand it.

Neither could I.

Of all the people in Hull, let alone the University, Nathan Smethwick would be the last you could call a racist for one simple reason... Me!

Dr Murtaugh tried to find out what the charges were, but was firmly rebuffed by HR as the matter was in strictest confidence and nobody was allowed any details. Including Nathan. Yes you heard me. He had to face accusations of racism, but was not allowed to know any of the details until he faced the board of enquiry. The only information we had was the the charge had been laid by a Professor Deaks, who worked in the Social Sciences department.

I must admit, the term Social Sciences is one that Nathan hated. He would insist that any sentence with the word 'social' followed by the word 'science' was worthless and oxymoronic... well, maybe even Nathan had some prejudices.

As the day of the hearing approached, Nathan got more and more unsettled. He was upset that he could be branded a racist, especially as such things can have a deleterious affect on a career, even if unfounded. Once or twice I found him sat at his desk, staring into space whilst tapping the heels of his hands together. Clearly racking his brains for any transgression he may have made.

That's the thing about this sort of accusation. Political correctness shares something with Health and Safety at Work regulations, that is unlike any other part of British law, and that is, you are guilty until proven innocent.

S'true.

If you find yourself stretched out over the altar of either one, you can assume that your goose is not just cooked, but cremated... And under normal circumstances there is pretty much fuck all you can do about it!

We didn't have sex that night. I merely dragged him off to bed and held him until he fell asleep. It had been days since I had seen his half smile that I loved so much and his eyes seemed dull and lifeless.

I was getting angry.

The first thing I did was go straight to the horse's mouth to find out about this Professor Deaks character. By horse's mouth, I mean of course Paula, Gossip Queen of Hull Uni, or Chairwoman of the Nag's Network as I called her. She liked that so much, she let it be known to her friends that the Nag's Network was now a thing.

Anyway, I'm getting side tracked. Paula was able to tell me that Professor Deaks was a liberal and so politically correct, the term Loonie Leftie could have been invented for him. Determined to root out sexism, racism and intolerance wherever he found it and if he couldn't find it, it was claimed that he would invent it. Apparently, he had left his last position at Warwick under something of a cloud, but try as she might, even Paula couldn't get any details.

The day of the hearing arrived, so I accompanied Nathan. Although public access was allowed, it was discouraged quite heavily. Sadly for them, a pack of rabid hyenas couldn't have kept me out of there!

It was held in one of the smaller meeting rooms. When we arrived, we found three members of the HR department sat along one side of the meeting table, with the cursed Professor Deaks sat at one end. Nathan was asked to sit facing the committee and I was required to sit in a chair near the door.

The hearing was called officially to order by the chairman and then Professor Deaks laid out the charge. When I heard it, my mouth fell open. Apparently, someone had complained on my behalf, at the use of racist language by Dr Smethwick against his executive assistant, Miss Manni Mwenye. To wit, calling me Midnight. Which was clearly a reference to the colour of my skin.

Professor Deaks was like a machine, he shot question after question at Nathan, interrupting with more questions so that Nathan was given no real opportunity to answer one before the next was spat at him.

Professor Deaks was clearly an expert at this sort of badgering, whilst Nathan was not. My man simply couldn't defend himself effectively against the spite and vitriol that Deaks was pouring all over him.

More than once, the chairman had to rein Deaks in, but it wasn't helping Nathan's case. I could see that the other two members of the board were busily scribbling notes as Deaks scored point after vile point against Nathan.

He was even insisting upon official censure, removal from his position in Earth Sciences and possible criminal charges... Before Nathan had even been found guilty of anything!

I couldn't listen to another word. I was beyond angry... I was fucking furious!

Jumping to my feet, I approached the table and stood next to Nathan as he sat in his chair, I said through clenched teeth, "I would like to address this board, if I may."

The chairman said, "Well, it's highly irregular for­"

I cut him off, "Seeing as this board was convened to investigate a complaint against Dr Smethwick on my behalf, I think it's not unreasonable that I be allowed to speak. Do you? Especially as the one person you might expect to have some input... Me... Wasn't even asked for my opinion at all!"

The three panel members had a brief whispered conversation and then the chairman addressed me again, "Okay, Miss Mwenye, you have the floor."

I took a deep breath and tried to reduce my blood pressure before I looked at Professor Deaks, then asked him, "Tell me please. What's my name?"

He looked confused, looked down at his paperwork and answered, "Why it's Manni Mwenye, of course."

"Wrong! My name is Usiku Wa Manane Mwenye... Do you know what it means?"

Again, he looked at a loss for words, so I continued, "It's Swahili, it means midnight."

I let that sink in for a moment and then said, "Yes, it's Usiku Wa Manane, but that's a bit of a mouthful, so I normally go by Manni. Tell me, Professor Deaks, why is it that you didn't bother to find out what my name means, or even find out what my name actually is, before you started these proceedings?"

He spluttered, "But he calls you Midnight which clearly could be construed as a racial slur."

I glanced at Nathan who had remained silent and was looking down at his hands. Then I directed my attention back to the board members, "I find it strange that someone who decides to speak for me without my knowledge or consent, doesn't bother to check any of his facts, before bringing a potentially damaging charge against a colleague. So I call into question your fitness to remain on the faculty yourself, Professor Deaks."

He jumped up and shouted, "HOW DARE YOU!"

I shouted back, "I'LL TELL YOU HOW I FUCKING DARE!"

The chairman banged his gavel and said, "I'll remind you both that this is a formal enquiry and I expect all parties to act accordingly. Professor Deaks, you will refrain from shouting please," he waved at me,"And if I could ask you to mind your language please, Miss Mwenye."

I smiled sweetly at him, "Of course. I'm sorry, but please, call me Manni. My friends call me Manni."

I gathered my thoughts, "The reason I called Professor Deaks' fitness into question was purely due to the fact, that he's guilty of failing to carry out the proper research before beginning these proceedings. Something I find amazing, considering the nature of where we all work."

I glanced around the board and noticed more than one head nodding slightly, "Also, there is no charge of racism to face anyway. I allow Dr Smethwick to call me Midnight, after all, he is only calling me by my name."

Professor Deaks piped up, "So, Midnight, you say that­"

I held up a hand, "I'll stop you there! Not only do you fail to do the proper research, you don't listen either! I said, I allow Dr Smethwick to call me Midnight. My friends all call me Manni," I gave him the evil eye, "You may address me as Miss Mwenye."

I swear to God, I've never seen someone go purple in the face before. I noticed the chairman hide a smile. Then Professor Deaks spoke again, "So why, Miss Mwenye, do you allow Dr Smethwick to call you by such a contentious name?"

Honestly! How could someone so intelligent be so fucking dense?

"My reasons are my own and are deeply personal to me. I see no need to share them with you. Besides, who are you to decide how two people in a committed relationship address each other? Well?"

I placed my hand on Nathan's shoulder, he looked up at me and I smouldered, "Honky Studmuffin."

He blushed furiously and stared at his hands clasped together on his lap.

I scowled at Deaks, "Am I a racist now? Are you going to convene a board of enquiry against me?"




Midnight Ch. 08



He ignored the question and tried another tack, "You must understand, we are looking to protect minorities from racism in all it's forms and­"

I cut him off again, "So you're my protector are you?"

He seemed less certain of himself, unsure where I was going with this, "Well, in a sense, I suppose so. As modern, right thinking individuals, it's our duty to stamp out racist bigotry wherever we find it."

I grinned wolfishly, "Tell me, my Knight in Shining Armour... When I was thrown out and made homeless at eighteen years old, where were you?"

After a short pause I continued, "When the bailiff who escorted me on to the street advised me to become a prostitute, where were you?"

Every eye was upon me as I followed up with, "When I was informed I should randomly get pregnant to get a decent council flat, where were you?"

"I really don't see­"

I rather raised my voice again, "You have no idea what racism is! But I do... I've seen it up close and personal... When I was regularly accosted and addressed as 'Nigger' on the Orchard Park Estate, where were you?"

My temper was flaring again and I couldn't stop my voice from increasing in volume, "When I was surrounded by skinheads who were going to kick my head in, just because I've got a black face, where were you?"

This time he remained silent.

I paused to take a drink of water and felt Nathan gently squeeze my hand. I took another deep breath, "When I was in danger of being raped and sliced to pieces by a drug addict, who wanted to see what it was like to fuck a monkey! WHERE WERE YOU?"

I paused again and slowed my breathing. I nodded to the chairman, "My apologies for shouting," after taking another sip of water, I continued in a calmer tone," I can tell you where my Nathan was... he was stood between me and the druggie, doing his best to keep me safe," my attention fell back on Deaks, "When I was at my very lowest and needed help getting out of the shit pile that my life had turned into, where were you, Professor Deaks? Where were you?"

I glared around the board members, all of whom were now shifting uncomfortably in their seats, "Nathan Smethwick is the best thing that has ever happened to me. When I needed help, he fed me, clothed me, got me to safety, gave me a job, he even bought me a car... He saw the potential in me that nobody else did... He was the only one who even fucking bothered to look!"

The chairman interjected, rather gently this time, "Miss Mwenye, I'll remind you again to please temper your language."

I nodded, "I'm sorry. It just makes me angry that Nathan has been called here to face this ridiculous charge," I glared angrily at Professor Deaks again, "Makes me wonder if someone has an axe to grind. After all, if Nathan was such a massive bigot, would he have done all these things for me? Would he love me? Would he make me love him? The answer to all three is no. And anyone with half a brain should be able to see that!"

I gazed down at Nathan and mouthed, "I love you."

Nathan reached up and squeezed my hand as it rested on his shoulder.

I stared icily at Professor Deaks, "Dr Smethwick isn't a racist. He's not my enemy. He's the man who saved me. If not for him, I would probably be dead by now, because I was only a worthless nigger! So don't you dare accuse him of bigotry! You, Professor Deaks, are not fit to wipe the sh... not fit to clean his shoes!"

I looked from face to face around the table and said evenly, "That's it. I've said what I wanted to say."

The chairman coughed and then said, "Thank you Miss Mwen... Thank you, Manni. If I could ask you and Dr Smethwick to wait outside whilst we deliberate."

We left the room and sat outside in the waiting area. I held Nathan's hand and said softly, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in there, my Love. But I just couldn't sit still and watch that fucker railroad you."

He smiled and kissed me on the cheek, "Midnight, you didn't embarrass me at all. In fact regardless of what happens, know that I have never been prouder of you than I am right now."

I beamed. And if I could have blushed, I would.

After a few minutes, Nathan was called back in whilst I waited outside on tenterhooks.

A short while later, Professor Deaks stormed out with a face like thunder, closely followed by Nathan.

"Well?" I asked.

He gave me a hug and said, "Completely exonerated and they even offered me an apology."

"Woohoo!"

Nathan kissed me and said, "You were amazing, Midnight. I didn't know you had it in you."

I gave him my filthiest grin, "Well, later I'll definitely have it in me."

His grin was equally naughty, "Oh yeah!"

Nathan's expression turned serious, "Tell me. Should I... Should I start calling you Manni from now on? You know... To stop any trouble."

I grabbed his head and kissed him fiercely before replying, "No! I'm your Midnight and don't you ever forget it!"

He smiled, "Good."

END OF CHAPTER EIGHT



Midnight Ch. 09



For personal reasons, I'll be taking a short break. Expect the next chapter in the New Year - VirtualAtheist

CHAPTER NINE

 The results of the board of enquiry were confidential, so of course Paula knew all about it within half an hour via the Nags Network. She pulled me to one side that afternoon and told me that it was all around the university. Professor Deaks was a complete dickhead with his PC head jammed up his PC arse, and that I was Miss Usiku Wa Manane Mwenye, but everyone should just call me Manni. Her smile could only be described as evil when she told me that everyone on campus also knew that they should never, ever call me Midnight... Unless their name was Dr Nathan Smethwick.

 I thought that was the end of our problems with Professor Dick... Sorry, Professor Deaks... But I was wrong. My first clue was that my permission to use the University computer network was cancelled. The network administrators had been informed that as I wasn't a university employee, I shouldn't be allowed on the system.

 That took a couple of days to sort out and made life, if not impossible, then at least awkward.

 Nathan had to show the network administrators his contract which stated quite clearly that he was a contractor with the necessary computer privileges, not an employee either and that his contract covered all employees of Smethwick Palaeontology Services.

 Guess where their information came from. That's right... Professor Deaks.

 Then I discovered my technical library access had been revoked and my door card for the Earth Science labs had been deactivated by security. Why? Security had been informed that I shouldn't have access because I wasn't an accredited member of the teaching or research staff. Again, another couple of days to sort that out.

 Guess where their information came from. Yep... Professor Deaks.

 Dr Murtaugh received a summons from The Dean to explain why I, untrained in any of the Earth Sciences as I was, had been allowed unrestricted access to The Drydenthorpe dig site. I don't know what was said in that meeting exactly, but Paula told me there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. And at one point, Dr Murtaugh reminded the Dean quite forcefully that 'there wouldn't jolly well be a Drydenthorpe dig site, if it wasn't for young Manni and I'll be buggered if I keep her out of there!'

 I love that old man.

 Nothing more was said about it, but guess who'd been bending the Dean's ear... Of course... Professor Fucking Deaks!

 For someone who claimed to be my self­appointed protector, he had a fucking funny way of going about it.

 Then it all came out.

 It seemed that Nathan had reason to throw an incompetent Archaeology student off the site down at Cheddar, the year before. The great­nephew of a certain Professor Deaks, so he decided to make Nathan's life difficult. And Nathan's habit of calling me Midnight was just the ticket... Or at least that's what Professor Dickhead had thought. When I scuppered his plans and he couldn't hurt Nathan, he went for the next best thing... Me. It didn't help that I'd made him look foolish in front of the whole campus either.

 The eventual upshot was that a member of the faculty was asked to resign. But it wasn't my Nathan!

 Anyway, life went on... Without Professor Deaks.

 By this time, Nathan's responsibilities at Cheddar Gorge had been passed on to someone else, and the Drydenthorpe dig site was ticking over nicely. Also, I had a quiet window before my degree studies began... Yes. I had decided to go for it. Anyway, Nathan had received an email from his mother wanting him to come for a visit and also to attend some sort of party she was hosting.

 He said, "Midnight, do you fancy spending a week at Radleigh?"

 "Where's that?"

 "Royal Buckinghamshire."

 "Why? What's there?"

 "My mother."

 I grinned, "So we're at the 'meeting the parents' stage are we?"

 He didn't smile back, but replied, "I suppose. I'm in two minds about it actually."

 Suspiciously, I asked, "Why? We're not having shame issues again are we?"

 This time, he did laugh, "If you must know... Yes we are," seeing the expression on my face, he hurried on, "Not of you. Of her. Mum can be... difficult and I'm not sure it would be easy on you."

 I considered his words carefully, before I answered, "I'm part of your life Nathan, and so is your mum, so we'll have to meet sooner or later. Besides, how difficult could it be?"

 The silent look he threw me sent a cold shiver down my spine... And not in a good way.

 Anyway, we packed a couple of suitcases and set off on the Friday morning. The journey to Royal Buckinghamshire was uneventful. I found myself looking forward to meeting his mother but at the same time, nervous. I knew very little about his family. In fact other than their names and the fact that Hattie ran her own company, I knew nothing.

 So I did the simple thing. As we were travelling, I asked Nathan about his family. Forewarned is forearmed, after all.

 To be honest, it was like getting blood out of a stone. I eventually dragged out of him that his twin sister, Philippa was a failed fashion designer, now a freelance writer who spent her time travelling the world and following the fashion shows. She would be at Radleigh for our visit as she apparently wanted to meet me. I'll be honest, I couldn't understand why someone like that would have any interest in me, but I didn't say anything. Although it occurred to me, that Nathan must have told his family about me, even as he had totally failed to tell me about them. Made me a bit tetchy if you must know.

 Then he told me about his mother.

 Hattie Harper had met and married her husband, Richard Smethwick at university. She was studying for a degree in business, whilst he was studying law. Hattie graduated first, so started working for a company in London and supported him until he finished his degree and went to work for a prestigious old law firm in the City. He made very good money and so did she. But instead living the high life as many of their friends had done, they invested wisely, more by her skill and knowledge than his.

 It seemed that she had a nose for a good deal. So as well as stock market investments, she was always on the look out for a good prospect. A clothes shop looked like it would take off if it had a cash injection to expand, she'd invest. Someone had an idea for a better mousetrap, she'd help them form a company. Property became vacant in what she thought was an up and coming area, she'd buy it.

 Hattie formed her company Harper­Smethwick Holdings (Holdings) Ltd and ended up with all ten fingers in a wide variety of pies. She gave it that name as she thought a double barrelled name gave the company a certain gravitas.

 She even owned 55% of a sex supermarket in Bristol. Hattie didn't care what the business was, her only concern was that it was profitable.

 Whilst both of them were very busy, they still found time to create and raise twins, Nathan and Phillipa. Nathan was the first to agree that his early childhood was a very happy time, both parents doted on them and they wanted for nothing.

 Sadly, Richard was killed in a car crash when Nathan and Phillipa were ten years old... And that was then Hattie changed. Always the hard nosed business woman, the loving mother seemed to disappear. She became colder and family seemed to take something of a back seat to her business. She went into overdrive and turned Harper­Smethwick into a financial powerhouse.

 Then, she relocated to Radleigh and became something of a Matriarch of the social scene. Not that there was any impropriety. After Richard died, she had absolutely no interest in replacing him with another man. Hattie lived for her business, and only her business.

 Nathan sighed, "Don't get me wrong. We wanted for nothing materially, I mean me and Phillipa had our educations paid for and we still get an allowance. But ever since Dad died, she changed... And not for the better."

 He fell into silence. I rubbed his arm and said, "I'm sure it'll be fine. And even if it isn't, it's only a week."

 Nathan was noncommittal, "We'll see."

 I dug out my iPhone and searched for Radleigh, Royal Buckinghamshire on Google Maps... Nothing... "Ah well," I thought to myself, "This Radleigh place must be either really small or really boring."

 Eventually, I saw the sign for Radleigh.

 My first surprise was that it wasn't for a village, it was mounted on a stone pillar that held one half of the large, iron gates at the entrance of a long gravelled drive. We travelled along the drive that followed a sweeping curve and was lined with Poplar trees.

 My second surprise was the size of the fucking mansion that appeared in front of me!

 The drive terminated in a circle around a statue of a winged cherub. Not my cup of tea, but there you go. Nathan pulled up in front of the large double front door, where we were met by a middle-aged man with pepper and salt hair, dressed in a dark suit.

 The house was a surprisingly modern looking building and not the country house you might have expected in such a setting. It was an 'F' shape with the main entrance on the inside corner of the building. I discovered later that it had a master bedroom suite and a further eight bedrooms, all of them, except one were doubles with en­suite facilities and decorated differently. The exception was the Green Room, which was single at the rear of the house.

 The house was brick­built, but covered in a stone facing that gave it a rather rustic feel and the windows were large, plate glass rectangles that would maximise the light inside.

 Nathan smiled, "Mr Jenkins, how are you?"

 "Can't complain, Sir. Shall I attend to your luggage?"

 He held out his hand for the car keys, which Nathan handed over, asking, "Which room has she put us in?"

 The older man looked uncomfortable as he replied, "Mrs Smethwick has put you in the red suite Sir, and your companion," he nodded towards me politely with a small smile, "Miss M... Mo... Mowenny?"

 I smiled back, "Mwenye. Please... Call me Manni."

 "My apologies, Miss Mwenye. You've been placed in the green room."

 Nathan scowled and said, "Mr Jenkins, please put all our luggage in the red suite... I'll speak to Mother."

 "As you wish, Sir."

 Opening the back of the car, Mr Jenkins began unloading and paused briefly to say, "It's good to have you back, Sir."

 Nathan grabbed my hand and led me through the front doors into the entrance hall. The place was immaculate and airy. With high ceilings and the large windows, the room looked twice as big as it actually was. All of the woodwork was a brilliant, white gloss and the walls were a neutral calico or natural hessian. The colors in the decor were added with the detail, a few paintings of very realistic looking butterflies adorned the walls and one or two vases filled with fresh flowers sat on stands on either side of the staircase.

 "Wow!" I said in awe, "Your mother lives here? Looks like her company pays well."

 Nathan seemed less than impressed, but then, he'd seen it before, "I preferred the old house. I've got no good memories of this place."

 I looked around some more and then said slyly, "At least someone here knows where the hoover's kept."

 He grinned and then squeezed my hand, "Come on. Let's find her."

 Nathan led me through a highly polished door off to the right and into a large open plan area that housed a dining suite that could seat six people, beyond which was a lounge area with a huge fireplace that should have seemed out of place in such a modern design, but wasn't. Clearly a fortune had been spent on architects and designers. At the far end a set of large glass doors led out on to a vast patio area on which stood several sun chairs and side tables. Stone steps led down to a huge expanse of well maintained lawns.

 As we entered the room, Nathan's female clone came bounding up to us from where she had been sprawled on one of the sofas, "Nathan!" she squealed and hugged him. Then she turrned to me and crushed my ribs as well, "And you must be Manni. We've heard so much about you."

 Once I was able to breathe again, I replied, "And I'm guessing you must be Philippa," I gave Nathan a hard look as I continued, "About whom I know absolutely nothing except your name."

 Nathan had the decency to blush, as Philippa giggled, "That's our Nathan. Sooner get blood from a stone than get information out of him."

 "Hey!" he exclaimed, "I'm not that bad!"

 Philippa rolled her eyes, "Of course not."

 Then she grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the nearest sofa. As we sat down, she said, "You must both be thirsty after the drive. Coffee?"

 "Oh yes please," I smiled.

 Philippa pressed the button on an intercom unit that sat on the oak coffee table in front of the sofa and said, "Mrs Jenkins, would you be a Dear and bring coffee for three to the lounge, please?"

 A tinny voice replied,"Of course, Miss. It'll be five minutes."

 "Thank you."

 Then she turned to me and started talking and talking aaand talking. For twins, the difference between them was striking. Don't get me wrong, to look at them, it was obvious that they were twins, the only physical differences between them were gender, length of hair (Philippa's blonde locks were shoulder length) and eye colour. Where Nathan had his fucking beautiful blue eyes, hers were a colour somewhere between hazel and brown. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying she looked like a man... I mean... She was clearly the rather pretty female version of Nathan... Or he was the handsome male version of her... Bollocks! I know what I mean.

 Philippa's monologue ­ and it was a monologue ­ was interrupted briefly when a rather dumpy middle­aged woman entered the room pushing a small trolley holding a large pot of filter coffee, a small stack of cucumber sandwiches and a pile of fancy pastries with the associated crockery into the room. She quickly and efficiently unloaded it all on to the coffee table.

 Nathan reached out and grabbed a couple of the sandwiches, "Thank you, you're a diamond."

 Philippa smiled at the older woman as she poured out three coffees, "Yes. What would we do without you and Mr Jenkins. I'm sure the house would crumble into ruins."

 Mrs Jenkins grinned, "I'm sure you'd survive, my Dears."

 Then the door opened again and another older woman entered the room followed by a much younger woman dressed in a rather smart two piece business suit.

 The older woman was dressed rather more casually, but her outfit was clearly expensive and of top quality. She was talking rapidly to the younger woman, who was taking notes, "I want you to talk to the accountants and see what's going on with Brown and Co. Last quarter's numbers were way down on what they should be."

 "Yes, Mrs Smethwick."

 "And while I think of it. Can you get young Marlene to see what's happened to my gown for the do. It should have been here yesterday."

 "Of course, I'll speak to her this afternoon."

 They interrupted their conversation when the older of the two spotted the food and drink, she smiled at Mrs Jenkins, "Two more cups please, Mrs Jenkins, we're taking a break."

 Mrs Jenkins nodded and bustled away, to arrive back moments later with the necessary extras, then retired back to her kitchen.

 Nathan stood up and gave the older woman a hug, "Hello Mum," he nodded at the younger woman, "Georgie."

 The assistant smiled at him and then poured out two cups of coffee. She handed one to Nathan's mother, took the other for herself and retired to the other side of the room where she engaged in a quiet talk on her mobile phone.

 Nathan's mother said, "Nathan! It's been too long. You should visit more often."

 He smiled, rather grimly I thought, and replied, "Sorry. I've been rather busy. We had rather a good find in Yorkshire, thanks to Midnight," he indicated at me with a wave of his hand, "Sorry, I should introduce you. Mum this is Manni... Midnight, this is my mother."

 I stood up and held out my hand, "Pleased to meet you, Mrs Smethwick."

 She looked at me, the smile faded from her face and the temperature dropped to sub fucking zero! She took my hand in hers for the briefest of touches and replied, "Ah yes. Your secretary."

 I saw a tic of annoyance travel along Nathan's jawline, "No. Midnight's my partner as well as my executive assistant."

 "Of course. My mistake."

 I'll be honest, she had a way of making me feel two inches tall and that first meeting was the longest, most painful thirty minutes of my life so far. Don't get me wrong, Nathan's mother wasn't overtly rude, but it was obvious that she didn't like me at all. She was coldly polite, but every time she looked at me, I could feel the icy daggers shredding me to pieces and I found myself talking very little. Especially because her responses to me usually contained a litte barb of spite. I think Philippa picked up on them too, but Nathan didn't. What can I say? It's a woman thing.

 Eventually, Mrs Smethwick... She hadn't invited me to call her Hattie, finished her snack and led her assistant back to her offices at the other end of the house.

 Nathan smiled, "I think that went quite well."

 I sighed heavily and ran my fingers through my hair, "You fucking think so?"

 He looked puzzled, "What?"

 Philippa grinned, "Nathan, I love you dearly. But you're a bloody idiot! The only thing that stopped Mum from crucifying Manni was the fact that there were witnesses."

 I said quietly, "Maybe bringing me here was a mistake."

 Nathan sat down next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, "She just takes a little time to get used to new people, that's all. I'm sure it'll be fine."

 Not convinced, I replied, "We'll see."

 The rest of the afternoon was spent in a somewhat lighter mood and the chat soon came round to Philippa. She was a freelance fashion writer and lived the jet set lifestyle, following fashion shows around the world. She wrote for various magazines, Vogue, Tatler and whatnot, but also ran her own blog, sharing gossip and news from the world of the fashionistas. Currently single, but not actively looking, she was between shows and had a couple of weeks before she had to be in Milan.

 I'll be honest here, it was exhausting just listening to her talk about her lifestyle, I mean I thought that me and Nathan were always busy, but she knocked our workload into a cocked hat! And the word garrulous doesn't even come close to describing how she could dominate a conversation.

 Always funny and interesting, never boring, but fuck! Not only could she talk the back legs off a donkey, she could persuade it to go for a walk afterwards.

 Anyway, dinner time arrived and Nathan's mother reappeared. We sat around the table as Mrs Jenkins served our food and then disappeared. I have to say, WOW! If I lived at Radleigh, I'd be the size of a house within a fortnight.

 But delicious as the food was, the conversation that surrounded it was less that tasty. Nathan's mother didn't miss a single opportunity to remind me that she thought I was beneath them, I was not their sort of people and I was very much less than welcome... Couched in the politest of terms, naturally.

 As soon as the meal was over, Mrs Smethwick excused herself, claiming fatigue and retired to bed, leaving us three at the dining table. Nathan grinned, "Well Midnight, at least you're still alive."

 We returned to the lounge area, Nathan and I sat on one of the sofas whilst Philippa snuggled into an armchair. I snuck my hand into his and sank back into the soft comfort of the sofa. I was somewhat miffed, "She really doesn't like me. What did I do to piss her off?"

 Before Nathan could respond, Philippa jumped in, "Simple. You're seeing Nathan and she didn't choose you."




Midnight Ch. 09



"Eh?"

 Philippa sighed, "She doesn't think we can be trusted to choose our own partners. She wants us to pick from the stable of eligibles that she selected. Who happen to be the horse­faced offspring of her social circle."

 I was gobsmacked, "What century is she living in?"

 Nathan laughed, "I know! She can't get it into her head that I need someone with a brain and not one of the clueless elite she keeps trying to foist on me."

 Philippa chimed in, "And her thick skull doesn't understand that I have absolutely no intention of settling down... At least not yet. I'm having too much fun. Besides, if and when I do, I will certainly not let her decide for me!"

 "I see."

 Nathan stretched out and crossed his legs at the ankle. He stared into space briefly and then said, "Actually, that's what the Ball is all about."

 "Ball?" I asked.

 Philippa said, "Yep! Next Saturday, she's hosting one her formal do's. It's supposed to be a Hunt Ball, but it'll be more like a meat market of people to be introduced to Nathan and me."

 I frowned, "Really? But she already knows Nathan's with me."

 Nathan squeezed my hand, "Yes... I am."

 Something occurred to Philippa, "Manni, do you have a ball gown?"

 "Well I bought a cocktail dress with me."

 She shook her head, "Oh no no, no, that simply won't do. We need to get you sorted out. Tell you what, you and I can go into London on Monday to find you something nice, and I know just the place to get it."

 Nathan laughed, "Okay. What's this going to cost me?"

 Before Philippa could respond, I interjected, "Oh no! I can buy my own dress."

 Philippa giggled, "Sorry Manni, but in this case no you can't. We're getting you a posh frock and Nathan's paying for it," she looked at him, "Budget?"

 He shrugged, "How would I know? Two?"

 "Pfft! Five!"

 "Okay."

 I was shocked, "No! I couldn't ask you to fork out £500 for one dress. And anyway, I'll buy it, I've been saving."

 Philippa replied as gently as she could, "Manni, I didn't mean five hundred... I meant five thousand."

 My jaw fell open, "Oh God! No, I couldn't possibly allow that," scandalised, I turned to Nathan, "I refuse to let you spend that much on one fucking dress!"

 Nathan said, "Midnight, how can I put this? Look... it's going to be a big bash and the people who are going will be dressed to the nines. Ball gowns, formal suits, the works. I'm escorting you, and I point blank refuse to allow you to attend in anything less, than the best I can give you."

 "But still, £5,000! That's ridiculous! It's more than you paid for Mofo!"

 "Mofo?" asked Philippa.

 "My car. I can't wear a dress that costs more than my fucking car!"

 Nathan put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him, "Do you remember what you said at the end of our conversation about your one­off clothing allowance when we first met?"

 I had to think for a moment and then replied with a wry grin, "I said 'I'm not going to win this one, am I?'" I sagged slightly, "Okay I suppose. But I'm really no happy about this. You've already spent a fortune on me. It's too much."

 He grinned, "Midnight, I earn more than enough for my needs. And maybe I want to spend my money on you. Did you ever think of that?"

 "I just... I just don't want you thinking I'm only after your money. Because I'm not. I earn my keep!"

 Nathan was about to speak, but Philippa coughed meaningfully to get our attention and then said, "Nathan, why don't you head off and give us a minute."

 He glanced at his watch, "Actually, it is getting on. We're in the red suite, Midnight. Do you know where that is?"

 Philippa waved him away, "I'll show her, now go on, bugger off!"

 Nathan grinned as he kissed me and then headed towards the hallway door, "Okay. Night, Lippy. Don't let her keep you up too late, Midnight."

 Once we were alone, Philippa helped herself to a whisky and soda from a drinks cabinet in the corner, I just had a lemonade. Then she settled back into her armchair and gazed at me thoughtfully before she spoke, "You're very special Manni. Did you know that?"

 "Me? No, I'm just a normal person. There's nothing special about me."

 The corner of her mouth curled up into an instantly recognisable half smile, "Don't you believe it. There's a few things you need to know, that I suspect Nathan hasn't mentioned."

 I frowned, "Like what?"

 "I don't know if you know, but Nathan earns an absolute fortune doing what he does. And we both get a healthy allowance from Mum. He's a man with a simple lifestyle... You may have noticed."

 I couldn't help laughing, "It hadn't escaped me. I think his only extravagance is his car... And me," I frowned slightly, "If I'm honest, it makes me a bit uncomfortable actually. I want to earn my pay and pay my way. I don't like handouts."

 Philippa pouted with her lower lip and blew her fringe away from her eyes, "Like I said. Special. Look, Nathan has had several girlfriends in his time, obviously. But only a few of them ever got brought to meet Mum. And none of them ever returned for a second visit. As you've found out, Mum can be... difficult."

 "You fucking said it!"

 She ignored me and carried on, "Of all of them, you are the only one who tried to refuse to allow him to spend his money on them. The only one! You are the only one that I know of that can even attempt to keep up intellectually. He's a super genius. He got the brains," she thrust out her chest with a giggle, "And I got the fantastic bod."

 "Well, yeah but­"

 "There are no 'buts'. He keeps in semi regular contact with me via email and I keep Mum up to date on what's going on in his life."

 Ah, I thought, that explains how they know about me.

 She fixed her gaze on me and said, "And since he met you, you are the single most popular topic of conversation in his emails, even over that dinosaur thingy you found. That has never happened before. He loves you Manni. He loves you like I didn't think he was able. I was always the emotional one. In fact, at one time I thought he was Autistic, he could be so unemotional. And he's never really cared about money, regardless of the fact that he's rolling in it. So if he decides to spend it on you, don't analyse it, don't feel guilty about it. Just accept it as something he wants to do," she grinned again, "Besides, knowing him, it's probably the only way he has of letting you know he loves you. He's not the most romantic man in the world."

 I couldn't suppress smile of my own, "Don't you believe it!"

 Philippa immediately placed fingers in both ears and chanted, "La la la la, I'm not listening, please don't tell me, I don't wanna know!"

 I laughed again and then grew more serious, "Still... It's a lot of money for one dress."

 She took a sip of her drink, "Not for Nathan it isn't. He wants you at the do with him and he wants you to look like the Belle of the Ball. Not for him, but because he thinks you're worth it and because you deserve it," once again her eyes met mine, "And from what he's told me and what I've seen for myself... I do too."

 "Oh stop it!"

 The conversation then drifted on to other things, eventually I asked , "Why did he call you Lippy?"

 Philippa laughed, "It's short for Philippa, but it's also what he calls me when he thinks I have too much to say... Which is mostly. Okay, why does he call you Midnight? I know that nobody else is allowed."

 I thought hard about explaining. After all it was deeply personal to me, but then decided that I would share it. So I went over the translation of my name and how it had been used as a basis for racist humour, until that fateful night when Nathan first used it, how he meant it... And why I liked it so much when he did.

 She smiled, "I can see how it would be special to you. I like it too. Don't worry though, you're still Manni to me."

 Not long after that, we called it a night. She directed me to the red room where I found Nathan asleep in bed. His iPad was face down on his chest and I saw that he'd been reading an article titled 'Microraptor Zhaoianus Discovery Strengthens the Dinosaur-Bird Connection Theory'. I placed the iPad on his bedside table, undressed and slid into bed next to him, being careful not to wake him up. Then I too, promptly fell asleep.

 At some point in the night, I started having a rather sexy dream and drifted into wakefulness. The room was dark and silent, and I could feel a hand gently stroking my tingling, wet pussy. I smiled, "Are you awake?"

 "Might be."

 I reached for him, "Good."

 I had to bite a pillow quite hard that night, after all, I didn't want to give wake Hattie and give her yet another reason to hate me.

 The next morning, I woke up in a good mood. The night time activity and a good sleep had completely swept away the tension from yesterday. A short while later found us all at breakfast.

 We could have a full English cooked to order by Mrs Jenkins, but as there were no bagels in the house, I just had some cereal. Philippa was her usual chatty self and Nathan was half in the room and half buried in some technical text or other as he ate. Hattie had the Times Business Section next to her plate and was also less than conversational.

 Eventually, she remembered there were other people in the room and asked, "So what's everyone's plan for the day?"

 Nathan said, "I've got some reading to catch up on," he smiled at me, "It's good to be able to relax with some light reading for once."

 After a quick glance at the article he was perusing entitled, 'Characteristics and Behaviors of Pterosaurs' I agreed, "Yes. Light reading."

 He grinned and returned to his article.

 I said, "I don't have any plans for today. I don't know what there is to do around here."

 Hattie had returned her attention to her newspaper before I was halfway through my answer. I saw Philippa give her a hard stare before she said, "I think I'll give Manni a tour of the house and later we can pop into the High Wycombe for some window shopping. We might get some ideas for her ball gown."

 Hattie's ears pricked up at this point, "Ball gown? Whatever for?"

 Philippa rolled her eyes, "So she's not dancing naked at the ball. Obviously!"

 Hattie's eyes narrowed as she glared at me, "She won't be attending. The ball is for family and friends, not the staff."

 I was mortified and could only look down at my half eaten breakfast. Yet again this hateful woman had ruined my good mood.

 Nathan looked at his mother in shock, "Manni isn't staff, she's my partner."

 "That's as may be, Dear. But I really don't think its suitable for you to­"

 "Mum!" barked Nathan, "I'm not putting up with this. I'm escorting Midnight to the Ball or I'm not bloody going either!"

 "Nathan, really! If you think­"

 "Mum, I mean it. I don't understand why you're being like this. Midnight hasn't done anything to you and you're being a complete bitch!"

 "NATHAN SMETHWICK, HOW DARE YOU!"

 He tapped the edge of his hand against his forehead, "Because I've had it up to here! Every time I've brought someone back it's been the same thing. Every. Single. Time. Why do you think I visit so rarely? Because of the way you insist on acting. But this time is different, at least it is for me. Midnight is very special to me and I won't have you treating her like this."

 She tried a different tack, "Nathan, you must understand. Your lady friend wouldn't really be at home. She'd clearly be out of her depth."

 Nathan was exasperated, "Jesus! You really don't know how to stop, do you? Midnight isn't my 'lady friend', she's my partner! And I'll tell you one last time, if she doesn't go then I don't go!"

 Philippa snapped, "Nor me!"

 Hattie began, "If you insist that she goes, then I won't­"

 Nathan snapped, "If that sentence ends in any kind of ultimatum, then be aware that you will not like the decision I make!"

 You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife as Nathan and his mother glared at each other. I was just pleased I wasn't between them as I would have been sliced in two, having just discovered from where Nathan had inherited his diamond drill stare.

 Can you spell 'long uncomfortable silence'?

 Eventually, Hattie stood up and gathered up her paper. She glared at me and hissed, "Fine! Bring your secretary. It's a fine thing when I can't even decide who gets invited to my own function! I'll be in my office, I'm very busy today."

 Then without another word, she turned on her heel and marched away to her office. Thankfully we didn't see her again until dinner time.

 After she had left, I sagged down in my chair and said dejectedly, "I don't want this. I don't want to cause any trouble. Maybe it's best I don't go to the party."

 "Rubbish!" shrieked Philippa.

 "Yes," Nathan agreed, "I'm sorry she's being such a bitch to you Midnight, but she has to learn. She will not be allowed to pick my partners for me!" He reached over, took my hand and kissed it, "You're not causing trouble, she is. You are a big part of my life and she is just going to have to accept it."

 I couldn't help smiling and planted a sloppy kiss right on his lips, "I love you so much."

 Philippa made a gagging noise and cried, "Get a room!"

 The tension melted from the room and we all breathed a little easier. I've gotta say, I've had more relaxing holidays!

 After we had finished breakfast, Nathan flopped down into an armchair and lost himself in his reading whilst Philippa gave me the grand tour.

 She showed me the games room that had a full sized snooker table and a couple of card tables by the wall, it even had a bar at the far end and there were easy chairs dotted around the place. I got a viewing of all the bedrooms except the master suite. I must admit my favourite was the Chinese room that Philippa was in. Back on the ground floor, she led me past a formal drawing room that was straight out of the 18th century and a huge dining room with a dining suite that seat twenty people. The corridor led off to Hattie's offices, which Philippa decided would be best avoided, leaving only the kitchen. Philippa said, "Right, we're normally not allowed in here, but as long as you remember to touch absolutely nothing, we should survive."

 Philippa led me into the kitchen. Mr Jenkins was sat at a small dining table in his shirtsleeves, reading a paper as he enjoyed a mug of tea. Mrs Jenkins was stood at a chopping board preparing vegetables. She stopped working and looked at us suspiciously when she heard the door creak open.

 Mr Jenkins jumped up and asked, "Can I help you, Miss?"

 Philippa smiled, "It's fine Mr Jenkins. I'm just giving Manni the grand tour," she grinned at Mrs Jenkins, "We promise to keep our fingers to ourselves."

 Mrs Jenkins shrugged and returned to her work. As Philippa led me through the large farmhouse style kitchen, I could feel the eyes in the back of Mrs Jenkins' head following us around the room.

 Out of the back door and into the safe zone, Philippa then showed me the path that led through some trees to three cottages. One was the residence of Mr and Mrs Jenkins, the next was where Georgie and her boyfriend lived and the last was empty. It was reserved for a gardner, the last one having just retired and now living with his son in Welwyn Garden City. Hattie was still waiting for a suitable replacement.

 She showed off the heated outdoor swimming pool, pool house and excercise room. The rowing machine, static cycle and the parabolic could go and get collectively fucked as far as I was concerned. However, I decided there and then that I'd be buying a swimming cozzie that very afternoon. It seemed to me that having you own pool was the height of decadence and it would be a crime not to use it. Just a shame though that I'd have to stick to the shallow end, due to never having learned to swim.

 Philippa though that was hilarious and vowed to teach me by the end of the week.

 "Besides," she said, "Nathan is bound to want to take you scuba diving at some point."

 "What?"

 "Didn't you know? He loves it. Doesn't get away often enough, but he loves the diving in Jamaica."

 I was gobsmacked! I must admit that the thought of going scuba diving sounded fantastic, so I was determined to at least learn to not drown by Friday.

 The afternoon was spent wandering around the shops in High Wycombe. I saw some lovely frocks and actually did get an idea of what my ball gown should look like. We also tried on many shoes... Well we're women, of course we did!

 We had coffee and cakes in little corner tea house, and I bought a rather nice swimsuit in Baywatch red.

 After a lovely time in town, we returned to Radleigh just in time for dinner... And the good mood went right out the window.

 As we sat down to eat, Hattie returned and was in just as bad a mood then she had been this morning. Philippa and I regaled ­ a clearly uninterested ­ Nathan with the details of our afternoon whilst he demonstrated a desire to instruct us on the finer points of testing soil samples for biological matter.

 Every so often though, Hattie would make a comment, sometimes interested in the topic of conversation, but more often some sort of barb aimed at me. All three of us did our best to ignore them, but they became less and less veiled as the conversation continued.

 Actually it became so bad Nathan finally snapped completely. It all came to a head when we were discussing my education plans of all things.

 I smiled at Nathan, "You've already been too generous. I want to pay for my own degree courses and tuition fees. I have savings and my wages... I was thinking of a student loan as well."

 Nathan replied, "Midnight, there's no need for that. I want to help you with it."

 Hattie gave me a coldly calculating look and said snidely, "Oh, well played."

 Nathan slammed his hand on the table and shouted, "ENOUGH! I didn't bring Midnight here so you could use her as a fucking punch bag."

 Hattie looked daggers at him, "I think you have a nerve shouting at me like that in my own house! How dare you? First you bring the help," she glared at me before returning her attention back to Nathan, "You bring this... girl... as a guest and then put her in your room with you. What would our friends say if they found out about the way you're behaving?"

 Nathan's voice became very cold and dangerous, "What did you say?"

 "You heard me Nathan! We have a position to think about. And you bring yet another gold digger here. Sniffing around after your money!"

 I was mortified and Nathan was fuming, "For the last time, Midnight is not the 'help' as you so nicely put it! She's my partner who just happens to be my executive assistant. She's also the best thing that ever happened to me, and you should be happy for me that I found her! And another thing, she didn't even know we had any money until we arrived here yesterday. She loves me, not your bank balance!"

 I was glued to my seat staring down at my plate. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't move and didn't dare look at anyone sat around the table. I felt Philippa's hand take hold of mine and squeeze it.

 Hattie shouted, "Look at her! She's not one of us. She'll never fit in. We have our position to think about, and you bring this tramp to my house!"

 Well, that was it! I burst into tears and shouted at her, "FUCK YOU! AND FUCK YOUR MONEY!"

 Hattie was shocked and her face twisted into anger, "How dare you!"

 I sobbed, "I'm going home!"

 I fled from the room. I had no intention of staying here to be insulted like that. Out in the hall, I made to run upstairs, then changed my mind...Then changed my mind again. I looked around, but had no idea what to do. I was stuck here, I couldn't just run as I had no means of getting home without Nathan, but knew It would be impossible to stay. So I could only stand in confusion, sobbing with no idea what to do.




Midnight Ch. 09



I heard Nathan shout, "THIS IS THE LAST STRAW!", as he came storming after me and took my arm, "Come on Midnight. We're leaving!"

 He led me upstairs to collect our bags and her voice followed us, "If you walk out of this house, you needn't bother coming back!"

 He shouted over his shoulder, "I have no intention of coming back!"

 "I'll cut you off! You won't be able to rely on your allowance any more!"

 Nathan stopped in his tracks and turned to face his mother who was now stood at the bottom of the stairs. He said in low, menacing tones, "It's all about the bottom line with you, isn't it? For your information, Mother, I've never even used your allowance. It goes straight into a savings account that I don't touch! If you really want to know, every penny I've ever spent since I started working is money that I earned. I am very well paid for what I do. But don't worry, as soon as I get home, I'll speak to the accountants and arrange for your precious cash to be returned to you!"

 He took my hand again and said in a gentle voice, "Come on, Midnight."

 Once in the bedroom, we grabbed our cases and started throwing clothes rapidly into them. Still crying I said, "I'm sorry Nathan. I'm so sorry my Love. I didn't mean to cause all this trouble."

 I couldn't help it, I collapsed to the floor sobbing. Nathan dropped down next to me and gathered me in his arms, "Midnight, you didn't cause anything. She did! I'm just sorry you had to see it. She's been like this ever since Dad died, but I didn't realise just how bad she's become."

 I sobbed, "I don't want to come between you and your mum... I lost mine... I don't want you to lose yours as well."

 He replied sadly, "If this is what she's turned into, I've already lost her," he kissed me on the forehead, "Come on. we'll finish packing and go."

 As we filled our cases I could hear voices arguing downstairs, they were getting steadily louder until I heard Philippa scream, "Are you happy now? You've finally done it! You've driven him away for good this time, you poisonous old bitch!"

 More shouting ensued as the two women headed back into the dining room slamming the door behind them.

 We completed our packing and made our way downstairs to the front door, the dining room door flew open and Philippa came running through it in floods of tears and raced up the stairs, closely followed by Hattie crying, "Philippa come back! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that!"

 She saw us at the front door and reached out tearfully, "Nathan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Please don't go. I'm sorry," Hattie hugged him fiercely and sobbed, "Please don't go!"

 Nathan's voice was cold, "Give me one good reason why not!"

 She gazed at him tearfully, "Because I'm sorry... We need to talk... Please!"

 "Are you actually going to listen this time?"

 "Yes, I promise."

 Nathan hefted his suitcase and rested his hand on the door handle, "I've heard your promises before, Mum."

 I hadn't heard her, but Philippa had come back downstairs and was now stood behind me. I jumped slightly when she sniffed back tears and said, "Mum, you and Nathan really need to deal with it this time," she directed her baleful gaze to Hattie and continued coldly, "Three people heard you make a promise, so you'd better fucking keep it this time!"

 Hattie looked down, unable to meet anyone's eyes, "I will, I pr­," looking towards Nathan, but still unable to meet his eye, she said quietly, "I promise. We can talk in the lounge, Nathan."

 Then she left us and went back into the lounge, leaving the door open behind her. Philippa said, "I'll help Manni unpack and then we'll head out to the garden."

 She grabbed Nathan's case off him and trotted back upstairs. Nathan kissed me gently and said, "I suppose I should at least hear what she has to say. You unpack, if it doesn't work out, we can still leave later. Okay?"

 I nodded, "I didn't mean for any of this, my Love."

 He kissed me again and gave me a hug, "It's not your fault. This as been building up for a long time. It just happened to blow up now... Okay, go and unpack and I'll talk to Mum."

 Then he entered the lounge, closing the door behind him. I sighed heavily and then followed Philippa upstairs to unpack my suitcase.

 END OF CHAPTER NINE