3 comments/ 50943 views/ 3 favorites Killing Me Softly By: Fetch The music was beaming out of the speakers, the light shows were incredible, and most of all, the booze was extraordinary. Alexis went over to the bar and ordered another drink, hoping she'd get it quickly, so she could go flirt some more, on the dance floor. She knew that she was the centre of attention, that night. While most guys probably didn't want anything better than fuck her as soon as they could, the girls fought the urge to strangle this hot chick who pulled all the attention towards her. Dressed in some blue low hip jeans, and a black wife-beater that didn't exactly cover much, the black haired girl had a lot of succes in the most exclusive club of L.A., called Starz. She bent over the counter, hoping to catch a glimpse from one of the bartenders, while she involuntarily showed off her cleavage to whoever was at the other side of the counter. All of a sudden, an astonishing redheaded vamp grinned at her, as she snapped her fingers in front of Alexis' face. "Can I do anything for you?" She smiled, as Alexis finally noticed her. "Oh, erm – yeah. A 'Screaming Orgasm', if you have that." "One screaming orgasm, coming up." The cute female bartender grinned. Barely a few moments later, Alexis found a delicious cocktail in front of her. She pulled out her money out of her purse, and looked into the eyes of the girl in front of her. "How much do I owe you?" "This one's from the house." The girl winked. Intrigued by the kindness of this –sexy- person, Alexis stood still for a moment. She cast a peek at the girls' face, as she served another customer already. The same polite smile. She shrugged, and looked again at the mass on the dance floor, who were eagerly grinding against each other, hoping they'd end up somewhere getting laid. For some reason, Alexis didn't find herself pretty interested anymore in the people on the dance floor, who were trying to impress whoever was watching them. She took a large sip from the drink, and turned back to the counter. She could as well go have some fun with this bartender chick. She was bisexual, and according to her gaydar, the other girl was quite into women as well. She waved and motioned the girl to come closer. The redhead grinned and leant over the counter, as Alexis brought her lips as close as she could to the ginger haired beauty's ear. "When does your shift end?" She half-yelled, trying to overcome the noise. "In about 5 minutes. Why?" "I was thinking to go some place else, maybe you want to go too?" "Sure. Who's coming?" "I was more thinking in just you and me." The redhead pulled away and gave Alexis a frowning look, and for one terrible moment, she thought her gaydar had failed her – for the first time ever. Fortunately, the redhead grinned immediately, and nodded. "Meet me in the back alley in 10." Without another word, she turned around and walked to another bartender, probably explaining him the situation. Alexis saw the guy smiling and then nodding, as her prey for tonight disappeared through the employers' door. The hot brunette finished her drink, and quickly went to the bath room, making sure she looked okay. One peek from her blue eyes into the mirror, confirmed her thoughts. She looked stunning. Her black hair was stylish and jet-straight until her ears, where it lightly spiked into every possible direction. Her make-up was still perfect, just as the rest. She quickly popped a chewing gum into her mouth, and left the bath room. She made her way to the exit, tipped the door guy, which she knew from her previous visits, and almost ran towards the back alley. No bartender to be seen. She cursed herself for acting so childishly nervous. After all, she was 21, she had has enough experience. She leaned against the brick wall on the opposite of the back door of the club, as she peeked at her watch frequently. Exactly when she started to grow very impatient, the door got swung open, and the red haired girl appeared, looking even better than before in the bar. Her red curls cascaded to her shoulders, and she had added some make-up, clearly, causing her emerald green eyes to sparkle even more. Alexis scanned the girls' body properly for the first time now. She was nicely curved, and her ass was absolutely marvellous. She was still half-drooling as the girl approached her and kissed her cheek lightly. "Hi gorgeous." Another grin from cute bartender girl. Alexis smiled, and managed to reply the girl. "Hey, erm… I'm Alexis, but you can call me Alex, if you want to." "Sure, I'm Tamara., by the way." "Nice to meet you." Another grin got flashed from the ginger haired girl, as she led the other one out of the alley. She walked to a car, and opened it from a distance. Alexis looked at the girl quite confused, as she didn't know what was going to happen next. "We go to my place, it's peaceful. And such." The redhead grinned. Alexis got into the car, and Tamara showed her driving skills, causing them to be at her place in less than five minutes. Without saying a word, Tamara took Alexis' hand and guided her to her apartment, on the first floor of some pretty looking building. Alexis decided it was for the best to let the other girl take the lead – temporally. "You live nice." Alexis stated, admiring Tamara's classy taste of the apartment. "Thanks. Want a drink? Vodka perhaps? Pure, on the rocks, with orange juice?" "Screwdriver's fine." Tamara went to the kitchen, quickly preparing the desired drinks. A minute later, she stood in the middle of her living room again, giving her guest her cocktail, as they seated themselves in the couch. Tamara pulled in her legs and laid comfortable on the couch, as she kept looking at the beautiful raven haired girl in front of her. She smiled and finished her drink, while Alexis drank up hers too. Tamara took her glass and put it down on the table, together with hers. The redhead decided that it was about time there was going to be some action. She rudely sat herself astride on Alexis' lap, threw her arms around the girls' neck, and brushed her lips against Alexis's a nanosecond after. She innerly yelled from pleasure, as she felt the beauty she was sitting on, lay her hands on her hips and kiss her back vigorously. Alexis felt herself become excited as the redhead snaked her tongue into her mouth, playing with the soft hair in her neck meanwhile. The black haired girl moved her hands to the front of Tamara's vest, and unbuttoned it in a rush, discovering the redhead wasn't wearing anything but a bra underneath it. Alexis smiled and bit her bottom lip, as she stood up, holding the other girl closely. Tamara wrapped her legs around her new lovers' waist and huskily moaned as Alexis pulled her close against her own crotch. The redhead got loose out of Alexis' embrace, and grabbed the smaller girls' hand, pulling her into her bedroom quickly. She pushed the girl upon the bed, almost jumped on her, and tugged at the girls' T-shirt, obviously wanting it off. Alexis immediately obeyed, while Tamara undid her trousers, closely followed by her own. They continued to strip off their clothes until they were bare naked. For a single second, both girls breathed heavily without knowing what to do next, as Alexis suddenly grinned and rolled over Tamara, her face close to the other girls'. "Do you trust me?" It came out as a husky whisper, but Tamara knew that she was prepared to let this girl do whatever she wanted, as long as she'd get her pleasure from it too. She nodded briefly, and Alexis reached over to one of Tamara's night gowns which were hanging against some cram in the wall. She pulled a scarf out of it, and climbed back upon the bed. She gently tied it around one of Tamara's wrists, then wrapped it around the girls' neck, and finally bended it at the girls' other wrist, causing Tamara to be unable to move her hands much, without literally strangling herself. The redhead already felt herself become wet, from all this new sensational excitement. Alexis laid herself in between the ginger haired girls' legs, and started to caress the girls' breasts, occasionally biting and pinching Tamara's pink nipples, while she licked her way around them. Tamara started to whimper already, feeling terribly helpless that she couldn't do much about the ticklish sensation that captured her body. Alexis continued kissing her way down the other girls' body, flicking her tongue around the girls' belly button, and finally ending up against the girls' thighs. She spread Tamara a bit wider open, and stroked the girls' upper legs gently, as she teasingly blew some cold air on the girls' wet spot. Tamara let out a husky groan, frustrated the dark haired chick was taking it slow. Alexis grinned and put her head in between Tamara's legs, as she started to lap the girls' pussy as an expert, letting her slick tongue tip stroke the girls' clitoris. Meanwhile, she moved one of her own hands to her own cunt, which was wet as well, because of the hot sight in front of her. How longer she licked Tamara, how hornier she felt herself become, and she felt herself reach orgasm, while Tamara's stuffed moans clearly indicated the same. The black haired girl noticed her redheaded lover was about to cum, so she crawled upon her, and laid with one leg between Tamara's, pushing it upon her crotch as the both came. Right then, Alexis entwined her fingers with the girls' underneath her, and all of a sudden… She pulled the girls' hands apart. Tamara's eyes shot open wide, as her air supply got cut off, caused by the fact Alexis had pulled her hands, which were tied expertly, apart. The redhead felt a slight panic taking over her, as Alexis kept looking at her in a calm way. The fact she was actually choking and cumming in the same time, caused the ginger haired girl to experience the whole situation, increased with a factor of 10. She saw lil' stars exploding right behind her eyes, and her body tried to react on the choking, bucking and spasm as much as it could. But since Alexis laid on top of her, that didn't work out too well either. Finally, Alexis let go of Tamara's hands. The girl immediately sat up and started coughing, as Alexis calmly released her of her bounds. She shushed the girl and guided her down on her chest, stroking the auburn hair lightly. "You did well. Did you like it?" Tamara nodded, obviously worn out. Alexis kissed the feverish lips of the girl she had just fucked, and flashed her a grin. "I might want to introduce you to some guys I know. I'm sure we would have a great time." She snickered once again, knowing that she'd take Tamara to meet them the day after. It'd be another hot experience, in which she'd be able to get both hot jizz-filled cocks, and the pussy of this girl. She couldn't wait already. Killing Me Softly Crap. I missed it. I missed my chance. In my short 25 years of life, I had been shot, electrocuted, poisoned, I'd walked away from 5 car accidents, and have otherwise been damaged in so many ways that I am uncertain as to weather the pages of the Encyclopedia Britannica could accommodate the tales. Needless to say, the doctors all know me by name, now. Alone in my dark apartment, I reflected on my latest misfortune – a deadly reaction to a combination of medicines that were Supposed to relieve my pain. If my sister hadn't dropped by that awful morning, I would have simply continued to sleep... and never woken up. "Perhaps they were working after all." I mumbled to myself. Don't get me wrong. I didn't want to kill myself. Life wasn't that bad. But if the first 25 years were any indication of what was to come, I was afraid that I might have missed my only chance to die peacefully in my sleep. I was certain, in that moment, that my destiny was to live a long 125 years of life, filled with pain and suffering, the end of which would be brought about by the blazing inferno of a car accident, where I would be burned alive before rescue workers arrived. "I'm such a drama queen..." I laughed to myself as I rolled over. My head was still pounding at every little noise and movement. But I was alive. And despite the pain, I had decided that every morning that I wake up is a good morning. I pushed myself up slowly, my arms aching from the needles that had been poking me the day before. As I shuffled to the bathroom, I realized how weak I was. I'd lost 15 pounds in 2 days from the war that had raged within my body. I couldn't help but think that I looked like a vampire when I saw myself in the mirror... barely a hint of color in my skin in contrast to the dark brown hair that fell almost to my waist. I heard the front door open and a familiar voice call down the hallway. "Grace? Are you up yet?" There was a hint of fear in her voice... I couldn't blame her... the day before, she had come to pick me up on the way to work and found me looking like a corpse. "In the bathroom!" I called out weakly. She wasn't able to hear me, but it didn't matter. She would eventually see the light. I wanted her to know I was alive, though, so I flushed the toilet. When she got to the door, I was squeezing some toothpaste onto my toothbrush. I heard her gasp as she looked me over. "You feeling any better?" she asked quietly. I saw the concern in her eyes. I nodded slowly, took a breath, and answered, "I vant to suck your blood," in the best Dracula voice I could muster up. I could see her nerves calm as she laughed. "I'll take that as a good sign, I suppose." I dropped the lid to the toilet and sat down to brush my teeth. She looked at me with an odd expression I'd never seen before, and walked over to me. As I took the toothbrush from my mouth to ask her what was up, she reached out somewhat hesitantly and touched my shoulder. Now I was the one with concern in my eyes as I looked quizzically to my sister. I had a difficult time trying not choke or spit my mouthful of toothpaste into her hair as she sobbed and dropped to her knees to hug me tightly. "I was so scared you were dead! You were so cold! And I couldn't tell if you were breathing, and... and-" Her words were cut off by tears. My eyes were watering. Half because of the abundance of emotion shared between us, and half because the toothpaste was burning as it began to trickle down my throat. I didn't want to push her away, but I had to do something before I choked. I looked around desperately. The bathtub would have to do. She jumped back when I spit. "Oh! Oh no... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Her words trailed off into tears again. I sat my toothbrush on the sink and pulled her close to me again. She was red with embarrassment, but I was glad to hear her laughing with me. "It's ok, Sara. It's ok..." I realized as I held her that the experience had been far more traumatizing for her than it was for me. After all, I wasn't awake for the majority of it, and when I was awake, I certainly wasn't coherent. "Thank you." I held her for a few more minutes as we both sniffed back tears. I kissed her on the head. "Thank you for everything." She helped brush my hair and fixed me some breakfast. As I was sipping on my mango smoothie, she was bustling about, cleaning dishes and throwing loads of laundry together. "Don't you have to work today?" "Are you kidding me? You'll never change will you. Steve said I could have the week if I want it." "Sara, no.... No. Look. I'm going to be sleeping most of the day anyway. I'll be fine. You know that place will fall apart without you. You can call and check on me, if it makes you feel better. But I'll feel horrible if you keep this up!" I gave her the most determined look I could force upon her. She started to protest, but I wouldn't hear it. "You're already my hero. I love you. And I know you love me. But if you lose the Stenson account, it'll be because of me and I'll Never forgive myself." She frowned at me for a moment, looking at me as though she thought she would never see me again... But that soon faded as she knew I would refuse to rest until she complied. "Fine. But I'll be sending someone over to check on you for lunch." "Sara... I'm 25... I think I can handle lunch on my own." "Nice try. But I'm 27 and I love you. So get over it. Besides. I think you'll enjoy the visit." We stared off for a moment, and I knew that this would be my best offer. "Fine." I replied. "Mmm. But for dinner, you have to stop and get greek, ok?" "Fine." She said sternly, but with a smile. She helped me to bed and tucked me in. "I'll be back by around 6:30. Call me if you need anything." She kissed me on the cheek and stroked my hair. I heard the door close as I was already slipping away into peaceful slumber. It was still dark in my room, but I felt someone else was close by, watching me. "Sara?" "Hey Grace..." came the reply. My eyes shot open, and I searched the darkness. I could distinguish a figure sitting in a chair that must have been brought in from the kitchen. The shadow leaned over towards the bed and lifted my hand towards it's face. I could feel tears on my fingers as they came to rest against a soft cheek. "Jessica?" I gasped. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. Even in the dark I could see her figure shaking with sobs. "Jess... What... But..." My stomach clenched into a thousand knots as I couldn't find any words to fill the darkness. We had been best friends for many years. We met just before high school, and stayed fast friends through our sophomore years of college. Through college she had always been hooking up with all the wrong guys. And one after another, they had used her and thrown her away. I begged her not to date them. Then, at the beginning of our Junior year, she met a guy named Britt. He was a marine, and I hated him from the start. I knew that he was going to kill her with that temper of his. But she "loved" him, and they got engaged. He eventually gave her an ultimatum to choose between her old life and him. So she cut off ties with everyone but her family and moved to Florida with him. I hadn't heard from her in 4 years. "Grace don't hate me... please... Grace I should have listened to you. And I didn't. And I chose him, but I shouldn't have, I left everyone behind. And I thought I'd never see you again, but yesterday... Oh yesterday..." She couldn't talk any more through her tears. My mouth was opening and closing, but no words were coming out. She took a deep breath and swallowed. After a moment, her words were quiet, and shaking, as she tried to speak through her tears. "I was at the hospital when they brought you in." I was more confused now than ever. "I had just eaten breakfast with my brother, and was dropping him off, when I saw Sara." Her breath was in gasps when she drew in air. "She was crying and crying, and when she saw me, she just walked over and collapsed into me and said your name over and over. 'Grace, it's Grace.'" She stopped for a moment to breathe. I felt the grip on my hand grow stronger, but as she spoke again, her voice was steady. "We held each other and cried for a while. Then a doctor came and said that Sara could go in and see you. But you weren't awake. And the doctor wouldn't let me in..." She sobbed again as she said, "I prayed and prayed that you wouldn't die until I could tell you..." It was my turn to cry now. My chest was heaving. I was beginning to feel guilty for my thoughts earlier that morning. "Come here" I squeaked weakly through my tears. She collapsed onto the bed beside me in heavy sobs. We just held each other and cried. I was so glad to have her back again. When she left, I felt like I had lost part of my soul. And as I laid there, holding her, I felt like my heart would explode with joy and sorrow all at once. Sorrow for the pain I knew she must have experienced while she was away, and joy to have her home again. We laid like that for an eternity until my breath grew deep and sleep overtook me once again. I woke with a start. There was no one there. My bed was empty. No chair. No Jessica. Tears started to well in my eyes. Had I just dreamed it all? Just then I heard someone clinking around in the kitchen. I jumped out of bed (and when I say "jumped", I mean "moaned-and-groaned-and-forced-myself-up-at-the-lightning-speed-of-a-three-toed-sloth") and waddled down the hall towards the kitchen with all of the speed and elegance of a crippled penguin. My heart dropped a bit. "Hey Sara." "Hey Chica. How you feeling? I stared at the refrigerator for a moment before answering. "I'm feeling a little bit better." "Good! Looks like you've got a little more energy, too." "Yeah.... Hey. I'm gonna pee. But I'll be right back." When I came back and sat down, we ate as we chatted about her day at work, and how the water cooler had accidentally been tipped over by the UPS guy. Sara was quiet for a moment, as she smiled at me expectantly. "What?" "How was lunch?" "Lun-" E-Gads! It Wasn't a dream! "JESSICA!" Sara laughed. "She said that she wasn't sure if you were going to remember talking to her." "Jessica... I thought I was dreaming. I was... she left... She didn't...." I just started laughing, but this time with a bit of sadness. "I knew you weren't going to mind. She had to go into the city to pick up her mom from the airport, but she'll be back around tomorrow. Sure enough. She was back in the morning. She wound up staying with me for 3 days as she helped nurse me back to health. We talked and talked like we had never been apart. It wasn't until that third day, however, that we spoke of the last 4 years, and the day at the hospital. "Grace." I looked up at her from the computer, where I had been catching up on some work. She looked as though she were afraid to hold my gaze, and I knew instantly where she was going. "Jess, look. You don't have to explain anything to me. You loved him. You followed your heart. That's more than most people do in their lives, and no matter how much I missed you, I could never be mad at you for that. I'm just sorry it didn't work out." She furrowed her eyebrows at this. I guess that isn't where she was going after all. "That isn't it." Yeah. See? Not where she was going. "Never mind." She said quietly as she obviously had just lost her nerve. She didn't look at me as she got up to go to the bathroom. "Jessica..." My heart fell into my stomach as she shut the door behind her. It was weird, but it felt like she was leaving me all over again. I told myself that it was ridiculous to have thought that and closed the laptop. I walked over to the love seat and flopped across it, telling myself that I would let Jessica speak to me when she was ready to, and I wouldn't put any more words in her mouth. After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened and I heard her walk into the room. She stopped when she saw that I had moved to where she had been sitting, and then laid across the couch with her head at the end closest to mine. We both pulled the throw blankets off of the backs of our respective seats, and snuggled up underneath them. We didn't look at each other. We laid there in silence for what seemed to me an hour. Finally, just as I was starting to drift off, she spoke again. "I didn't follow my heart." I turned to look at her in confusion, but she didn't look at me. "Before you said you weren't mad at me because I followed my heart, but I didn't." I looked back away, because I sensed that it made it more difficult for her to talk with me staring at her. "All those guys in college... you begged me not to date them. And Britt... He was so cut, so handsome... The perfect specimen of manhood. You said they were wrong for me. All of them. You had no idea how right you were, then." I was biting my lip. I knew that she needed to say this, but I knew it was hurting her to relive it. I wanted to hug her and tell her that everything was ok. But I waited. And listened. She turned to look at me, but I didn't look, because I knew she would stop. "I left Britt 2 years ago." At this my breath caught in my throat. 2 years?? She had 2 Years?!? I could feel my face flush as anger and pain pounded through my veins with each beat of my heart. How could she have not come home? Why hadn't she called me? Why? Was she ashamed? She should have known better... She should have called... "I didn't finish telling you what I prayed for in the hospital." I had to say something before I screamed. "You did." "No Grace..." "You said that you prayed that I would live until you could tell me you're sorry. And you did that... And I forgive you. And you..... you should have called me..." My heart was breaking. I was crying now. Tears were running freely down my face. "NO, Grace..." She slid from the couch and knelt beside my head. She bent her head down so that her forehead was resting on mine, allowing her tears to fall on me. "I prayed that you wouldn't die until I could tell you... tell you..." She pulled her face back until she could look plainly into my eyes. "...tell you I love you." My mind could not wrap around the words that just slipped from those lips. My heart stopped. I thought I would explode. Maybe now I was dying. I could almost hear her heart breaking as she spilled her soul to me at that moment. "I didn't follow my heart, Grace. I ran from it." She put her hands on my face, wiping my tears. "I loved You. Grace. I loved you. But I couldn't. I would lose you. You would hate me. I went after the 'perfect men', the ones that looked like models, the ones that every girl was supposed to want... because I thought that eventually I would want them more than I wanted you. And that way you wouldn't hate me." She laughed, "Britt came along and wanted to take me away... And I let him. Because I was dying. Every time I saw you... And knew you couldn't ever love me..." She wasn't able to finish. Not with my lips in the way. Killing Me Softly The baby lay on her side, her thumb firmly plugged in her tiny rosebud mouth. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic, although her eyelids fluttered from time to time. Erica knelt beside the cot, resting her forehead on the painted wooden side, exhaustion stroking her head with cool fingers. It was hard to believe that the angelic child lying fast asleep amidst the pink fleecy blankets had been screaming for endless hours all evening. Only now, after what felt like an eternity of pacing the polished floorboards, had she finally fallen asleep in her arms. Rubbing her heavy eyes, Erica carefully stood up, wincing as her knee cracked painfully. It was nearly four am and if she went to bed now, she might be lucky enough to catch a couple of hours sleep. Silently she tiptoed out of the nursery and made her way back to their room. Chris was lying on his stomach, snoring gently and managing to steal most of the duvet. For a moment she stood staring at him, resentment threatening to smother her. Every night it was the same. Erica was the one left to try and calm the fractious baby as she screamed herself blue with colic. Chris's excuse for leaving her to it was that he needed his sleep. "I have to go to work every day!" he had yelled at her when she had finally snapped the night before last. "I'm not asking you to stay up all night -- just taking Charlotte out for an hour and giving me a break would be helpful." Erica had felt like screaming with frustration by then. But she knew it was pointless -- Chris just didn't understand how hard it was dealing with a crying baby, day in and day out. Five months of no sleep and constant crying was killing her slowly. Most days she was a zombie. She functioned, but only on a superficial level. Going out was impossible; Charlotte very rarely settled for any length of time and pushing a screaming baby round the shops just prompted busybody's to ask her if the baby was hungry. The health visitor had promised her Charlotte would settle down once she had begun weaning her. Well that was one month ago and she was still waiting for the crying to abate. The baby was putting on weight, but she still cried all the time. Erica dropped her dressing gown on the carpet and climbed into bed, yanking some of the duvet back from Chris. He grunted slightly, but he didn't wake up. Bloody typical, she thought venomously. It seemed that most nights an earthquake could have shook them to pieces and still he would have slept through the commotion. She lay in the half-light, desperate for sleep, but unable to switch off. Too many jumbled thoughts ran round her head in a confusing maelstrom. She wondered whether she would have agreed to have a baby had she known how much her life would change. Having a child was meant to bring them together. Instead it was slowly driving them apart. Some days they barely exchanged two words at all. As for sex, well that was pretty much non-existent. Erica was always too tired and Chris had given up trying. As far as she was concerned, if she managed to snatch some time in bed when Charlotte was asleep, she wanted to sleep too. Making love was not exactly a priority in her daily schedule. Unsurprisingly Chris had disagreed with her on this. They had almost come to blows one night when she finally fell into bed, exhausted after trying unsuccessfully to encourage Charlotte to sleep. She had left the baby sobbing fitfully in her cot. For hours she had been rocking and trying to comfort her, with no discernable effect whatsoever. The baby had become increasingly irate; she didn't want feeding, she was neither too hot, nor too cold. She just wanted to cry. In the end Erica had placed her in her cot after making sure she was warm enough and her nappy was clean. She left her to cry. It seemed cruel, but she was at the end of her tether. She could still hear her screaming loudly from their bedroom, but the crying was slightly muted. It did not stop the wrenching feeling in her gut however. When she crawled into bed, all she wanted to do was to sleep. As soon as she felt Chris snuggle up behind her, his hard cock pressing insistently into her back, she knew exactly what was coming. "I'm horny..." the words spoken softly in her ear made feel like crying. His hand stroked her breasts through the cotton nightdress she wore and with a discernable sigh, she moved out of reach. "Not now -- I'm shattered. I need to sleep, not fuck," she said, struggling to control her temper. "When WOULD be a good time for you?" Chris snapped icily, snatching his hand away. "It seems to me there is never a good time these days." "Oh just drop it, Chris!" Erica turned her back on him, curling her body into a tight ball, the tension knotting her shoulders and pushing any chance of sleep she might have had into the realms of distant memory. Chris retreated back to his side of the bed, turning his back on her too. The area of mattress between them turned into Siberia in the space of a few seconds. Eventually Erica heard Chris begin to snore. With a careful movement she turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. From the nursery Charlotte was still sobbing fitfully. The plaintive sound echoed down the hallway and tugged at Erica's heartstrings. She knew the baby was fine -- she had been fed and changed. It still didn't stop her feeling like a useless mother. She turned back on her side and closed her eyes. Tears trickled slowly down her cheek, making the pillow wet. Thoughts of how her life used to be flooded her mind with rose-tinted memories. As much as she adored the baby, she missed her job and her freedom. It felt like she was no longer a person; she was just a mother and a drone. What she missed most of all was her husband. They had grown so far apart it felt like they lived on different planets some days. Erica wondered just how long their relationship could survive this kind of pressure. She also wondered how long she would continue to care... * * * Chris awoke when the alarm went off. Quickly he reached out and turned it off, his eyes stinging in the light from the open curtains. Damn, he thought crossly, he should have pulled them shut last night. The early morning sun was lovely, but slap bang in his eyes first thing it was not so bloody lovely. He turned over and realised to his surprise that Erica was lying fast asleep beside him. Normally she was up long before him as the baby tended to be nocturnal. In fact Charlotte just didn't sleep full stop, he reminded himself wryly. His cock was hard and for a blissful second he debated waking Erica up for some fun. Then he remembered the words of last night and thought better of it. No doubt she would still be pissed at him. It felt like she was permanently pissed at him these days. God knew he did his best -- but at the end of the day, what COULD he do? She had decided to breast feed so he was unable to help. She watched him like a hawk every time he tried to change a nappy or bath the baby. It was like she didn't trust him to do anything right. Eventually he had stopped trying at all. If she wanted to be super-mum, then so be it. With a resigned sigh he climbed carefully out of bed. Erica didn't stir. For a second he paused to look at her thoughtfully. Her face was pale and drawn, dark circles under her eyes. Her dark hair was lank and greasy, stuck to her forehead in stringy strands. He felt guilty for a moment, wishing he could make it all better, but not knowing how. He just hoped that things would improve soon -- if they didn't then he wasn't sure how much longer either of them could go on like this. Padding down the landing, Chris peeked in through the nursery door. It was rare that he had any time alone with his daughter. Mostly Erica had the baby, either feeding her or trying to sooth her when she had one of her long crying jags. The opportunities when he was left alone to care for Charlotte were few and far between. To say Erica was over-protective was an understatement. Most of the time Chris felt excluded from the close relationship Erica had with Charlotte; she acted like she didn't need him at all. He sometimes wondered if she would even notice if he didn't come home one day. In his worst moments, he seriously considered it. Charlotte was lying in her cot wide-awake. For once she was happy and smiling, her small chubby legs kicking around in the air. Chris looked over the bars of the cot and felt his heart contract tightly with love. It was a miracle he thought tenderly, that something so beautiful could have come from him. He was no oil painting and he knew it. He was tall, stocky and had often been described as 'interesting'. He knew this meant that he was not ugly, but nor was he handsome in the classical sense. Not that he cared especially. He was in good shape and he had never had any trouble attracting women. They liked his easy charm and sense of humour. They also liked the fact that he was not vain and didn't spend hours preening himself in mirrors. Reaching into the cot, he gently lifted the baby up and smiled as she cooed happily at him. She was adorable, he thought with a warm fuzzy feeling. "Come on sweetie," he said softly, holding her against his shoulder. "Let's go and find some food before mummy wakes up in another foul mood." "Gagabagaba," said Charlotte happily as they headed downstairs. Charlotte sat in her high chair playing with a toast crust, watching him intently as he moved quietly around the kitchen. She was just beginning to mouth on finger foods, pushing just about anything between her gums given half a chance. It was unbelievable, he thought as he sat down at the table. The baby was never normally this sunny in the morning. She had co-operated when he changed her nappy and dressed her. She had not even objected when he strapped her in her chair after giving her a bottle of milk. She cooed at him and waved her crust around, happy smiles lighting up her angelic face. If only life was like this every morning, maybe then things would be okay... * * * Erica opened her eyes with a vague feeling that something was not right. For a minute the daylight streaming through the window disorientated and confused her. Normally it was still dark when she was up and out of bed. The silence struck an ice-cold shard of fear through her veins. Why was Charlotte quiet? Why wasn't she screaming for attention? With her heart racing she jumped out of bed and ran into the nursery. The cot was empty and there was no sign of her daughter. Erica listened for a moment and heard the faint sound of the radio. She grabbed her dressing gown and headed downstairs to the kitchen, wondering frantically what on earth was going on. Dashing into the kitchen, she rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Chris was sat at the table eating toast and reading the paper. Charlotte was in her high chair, happily chewing on a crust and making a mess. The pair of them looked at her innocently and Erica felt horribly excluded from their private club. She was surprised at how upset this made her feel. "Morning," Chris said coolly, still remembering last night. Erica ignored him and went to flick the kettle on again, reaching down to open the dishwasher in the hunt for a clean mug. She knew she ought to let things go, but she didn't feel like forgiving and forgetting. Why the hell should she roll over and say sorry all the time? "Morning Chris..." he said sarcastically when he realised Erica was pointedly ignoring him. "Thanks for changing Charlotte's nappy and giving her a bottle." Erica turned to face him, her green eyes flashing in anger. "Excuse me?" she said, seething furiously. "She's your daughter too and it's about time you did something with her." With a bang she slammed the dishwasher shut again. "Oh really -- who the fuck goes out to work everyday and earns money to feed us? You?? No, it's me who works all hours, and all so you and our daughter have a nice home to live in." "Don't you DARE lay a guilt trip on me," snarled Erica. "It was you who was so desperate for a baby! I wanted to wait until we had more money saved up, but oh no, you wanted to try for one immediately." Chris stared at her in disbelief. "What are you saying here, Erica? Are you trying to tell me you regret having our daughter?" Erica turned away and stared unseeing into the garden. The kettle boiled and clicked off, but she was oblivious. Was she saying she regretted having Charlotte? Suddenly she didn't know anything anymore. She was confused. She loved the baby, but she also resented her. Sensing the tension and anger, Charlotte screwed up her face and began to cry. Hot tear ran down her chubby cheeks and within moments she was bawling loudly. "Well done, Erica," said Chris flatly. "She was quite happy until you went off on one." He drank the rest of his coffee and threw the dirty mug in the sink crossly. Christ, they couldn't even have a civil conversation these days. He was beginning to think that their relationship was heading for the rocks big time. "Right, I'm off to work. At least there it's peaceful..." he muttered. He turned to face Erica, but she had her back to him. She was trying to pull the struggling baby from the high chair in an attempt to quieten her down. It wasn't working and Charlotte just screamed all the more. In the face of zero response, Chris stalked out of the room, collected his stuff and headed to work. Hopefully she would be in a better mood tonight. If not, there was always a bottle of whiskey to finish off. Alcohol was an excellent anaesthetic. * * * Erica held the screaming child tightly as she watched Chris reverse out of their driveway. She felt numb seeing the black car disappearing down the road and out of sight. Eventually she gave up trying to hold the tears back. It was no use, nothing she did was ever right. With a sense of desolation she allowed the misery wash over her again, the black depression rising up like a noxious cloud. Despite the fact she had had far more sleep than normal, she felt desperately tired. She wearily climbed the stairs and took Charlotte into bed with her. They lay together, both crying, but for very different reasons. * * * Chris moved the drawings round his desk mindlessly. He had a report to finish, but he had no real inclination to work on it. The seven million dollars the client was looking to claim for delays to the contract, seemed somehow irrelevant. His coffee stood congealing in a flowery mug and he eyed it distastefully. He really needed a fresh cup and maybe then he might be able to concentrate on something useful. At the moment all he was doing was rehashing the events of the last twenty-four hours. Not that it helped in any way. Whichever way he looked at it, he saw no way of fixing things. There was a knock on his office door and he said gruffly, "Yes, what it is?" A young woman cautiously entered and asked hesitantly, "Would you like a fresh cup of coffee, Mr Langdon?" For a moment Chris looked at her blankly. He had not seen her before; he knew he would have remembered if so. She was bloody gorgeous! Long platinum blonde hair, slim figure, nice tits, pretty face...hell yes, he would not have forgotten her... "Err...yes, that would be great thanks, err...sorry, I don't know your name?" He smiled congenially at the girl, suddenly feeling a whole lot more cheerful than he had five minutes ago. "My name's Connie, Mr Langdon," the girl smiled sweetly. "I'm the new office junior." "Hello, Connie, please call me Chris." He held out his hand warmly and Connie walked over to shake it politely. For a moment he held her gaze and felt a warm buzz of interest seep through his veins. Up close the girl was even hotter. She fairly oozed sex appeal. "Hi Chris," Connie said slightly huskily as she shook his hand, holding onto it for a fraction longer than necessary. "How do you like it?" she asked suggestively. "Your coffee I mean!" she added with a flirtatious smile. "White, one sugar," Chris said. He smiled back at her, noting the interest in her eyes. Then he mentally slapped himself. What in God's name was he thinking! Fortuitously the phone rang and he turned away to answer the call. It was a client calling about a potential new job and he reluctantly dragged his mind back on to work matters. However it didn't stop him admiring Connie's pert bottom as she sashayed out of his office. The conversation with Mr Wong was interminable. Chris found his concentration drifting away on a lustful reverie whereby Connie was bent over his desk wearing virginal white stockings. A photo of Erica and Charlotte caught his eye when he was prompted to add something to the dialogue and he felt a sharp twinge of guilt shoot through his midsection. He had not looked at another woman since he met Erica. It was a scary symptom of just how bad things were between them. He wound up the conversation and replaced the phone on its cradle. Just what the hell was he going to do? Connie reappeared with his coffee and he thanked her politely, managing to ignore her blatantly leaning forward and exposing some tempting cleavage. She spun on her heel and left him alone feeling guilty about the hard-on that filled his expensive trousers. No, he mused regretfully, impure thoughts about the office junior were not going to help his marriage in the slightest. * * * Two weeks passed and the emotional chasm between them grew ever wider. Chris tried to make amends, but Erica was too stubborn to listen. As far as she could see, nothing had changed one iota. Her husband continued to spend all the hours God sent at work, while she had to deal with a screaming baby. Charlotte was now teething which added insult to injury although Erica had had a brief respite from the endless crying. For a blissful two days Charlotte had seemed a whole lot happier. She had slept better and had generally been far easier to deal with. Even the dreaded supermarket shop had passed without incident. Then the baby's cheeks had turned red and her gums became inflamed. Erica had consulted her books and realised with a sinking feeling that her daughter was teething. Sure enough, that evening the crying had begun again. Nothing seemed to sooth her daughter. Painkillers worked for a short spell, but as soon as the medicine wore off, she began to scream again. It was a nightmare with no discernable end in sight. Chris had then helpfully announced he was away for three days. He had a meeting in London he said, and he would be gone for two nights. Erica had said nothing. There seemed very little point really. She knew he had no choice about going; it just felt like the timing was too damn convenient. They were barely talking beyond essential dialogue about Charlotte. Every night Chris went to bed and stayed firmly on his side of the mattress. He could feel the chill emanating from Erica and couldn't be bothered to try and talk to her. He knew she was in no mood to listen. * * * Chris packed his briefcase and grabbed his laptop. He had an hour to drive to the station in order to catch his train. His head was full of work related thoughts and taking the stairs down to the basement car park, he walked over to his car, mulling over a telephone conference he had had that morning. A soft voice startled him and he jumped slightly. "Hello, Mr Langdon," said Connie, a store carrier bag in her hand. "Oh hello Connie, what are you doing down here?" Chris asked in surprise. He unlocked his car and placed his gear on the back seat carefully. "Just putting my shopping away," she smiled sweetly. "I needed some new lingerie, so I had a spending spree in my lunch hour!" Chris was slightly taken aback at such a bold admission. He was not sure why she was even talking to him really -- but the thought of a bag full of sexy lingerie was undeniably arousing. Uncomfortably he shifted on the spot. Killing Me Softly "Well don't go spending all your wages!" he grinned amiably. Glancing at his watch, he realised he needed to hurry up. If the traffic was bad, there was a possibility he would miss his train and that would not be helpful. "Right Connie, I need to go and you should get back upstairs." The girl licked her lips and took a step closer. "Mr Langdon..." she whispered, "I hope you have a nice trip." For a second Chris was hypnotised by her pale blue eyes and her pink lips. He watched mesmerised as a tongue flicked out and licked them. Lustfully he imagined that same tongue licking his hard cock. God it had been so damn long since he and Erica had made love. Connie was almost within touching distance, her luscious breasts heaving within her white semi transparent blouse. If he looked closely, he could almost make out the delicate lace of her bra and the dark shadow of her nipples. It felt like a fever had stolen his self-control. Almost in a dream, he saw her step into his space and standing on tiptoes, press her mouth to his. He saw himself helplessly returning her kiss hotly, crushing her slight body against his hard one. She responded passionately, her hips grinding into his erection, making his blood pressure shoot sky high. Without warning an image of Erica popped unexpectedly into his mind, cooling his ardour instantly. He pulled away abruptly, trying to catch his breath and totally unable to look at the girl before him. What the hell am I doing, he asked himself angrily. "Connie, I'm so sorry, that should never have happened..." He hung his head in shame. How could he ever forgive himself? "That's okay, Mr Langdon," she whispered. "I wanted to kiss you..." She took a step towards Chris again and he backed away, fearful of his own lack of self-restraint. "It shouldn't have happened," he said again firmly. God he needed to get away from here. He had made a terrible mistake. "I'm sorry Connie, but I have to go now or I'll miss my train." She looked at him sadly, her lips all soft and infinitely kissable. Mentally steeling his resolve he opened his car door. "We'll talk when I return to the office, okay?" With a faint smile, she nodded and moved out of his way, belatedly remembering to pick up her carrier bag. Chris took a deep breath before turning the key in the ignition. The engine fired into life and smoothly he pulled out of his parking space and drove towards the exit. Checking his rear view mirror, he saw Connie stood watching him leave. Shit, shit, shit! He felt like shooting himself in the head. This was about the most stupid thing he had ever done in his whole life. One moment of madness might cost him his job and his marriage. Why on earth had he let her kiss him? He must have been crazy. He drove like a zombie through the rush hour traffic and barely made it to the station on time to catch his train. The journey south was a very long and tortured one, guilt threatening to overwhelm him as the train ate up the miles slowly. * * * Erica piled dirty clothes into the machine, her body working on autopilot and her mind elsewhere. Charlotte was strapped securely into her highchair, silently chewing on a rubber teething ring, her pink cheeks streaked with dried tears. The medicine had kicked in and for a while peace was reigning in the house. It was the only time Erica managed to catch up on a few essential tasks like washing. Some days she did not find the opportunity to do even this. She didn't exactly care what she wore, but Chris had gone ballistic the other morning when he realised he had no clean shirts to take to London. "Well you could have washed them yourself," she had pointed out helpfully. The look on his face told her he was not amused at her snappy suggestion so she stalked out of the kitchen, unwilling to be drawn into another confrontation. It wasn't like she enjoyed living in a pigsty. She hated the mess and the disorganised chaos. The trouble was, as soon as she set to a task, Charlotte seemed to sense her lack of attention and immediately began to complain loudly. Erica dumped some powder in the machine and switched it on. At last she would have some clean clothes to wear in a few hours. All hers stank of baby sick and other nasty substances. Not that she cared all that much. It wasn't as if anyone exactly noticed what she looked like. Chris had given her a wide berth ever since she had lost it with him that night. It was almost a relief to be left alone in bed. She did miss the intimacy though. It would have been nice to have a cuddle some nights. But that meant she would have to be the one to apologise -- which she couldn't quite bring herself to do. The sound of the doorbell ringing loudly startled her. She stood, rubbing her neck and feeling the coils of tension wrapping themselves tightly through the muscles. Walking down the hall hurriedly, she wondered who it could be. Oh God, it better not be those Mormons again, she thought vehemently. It had taken ages to get rid of them the last time they called. To her surprise, her sister Clare stood smiling on the porch. "Hi Erica!" Clare exclaimed, stepping forward to kiss Erica's cheek. "I know I should have rung, but it's just a flying visit." Erica stepped to one side feeling slightly bewildered. She hadn't seen her sister since Charlotte's arrival. Clare and she used to be close, but Clare now lived the other end of the country and the opportunities for long telephone conversations were few and far between. As a result, their communication had dwindled over recent months. The two women went through into the kitchen and Clare immediately rushed over to her niece, extracting her from the high chair with a beaming smile. She began to coo at the baby, pulling silly faces and smothering her with kisses. The baby looked slightly taken aback initially, but soon began to chortle happily, reaching out to tug on her aunt's hair with a podgy hand. "Wow," she marvelled. "I can't believe how much she has grown!" "I know..." Erica replied as she switched the kettle on. "It's hard to believe that she was a tiny little thing a few months back." Clare watched her sister fussing about, searching for clean cups amidst the debris scattered all over the worktops. Frankly she was worried. She had had a suspicion that Erica was not coping terribly well, but to see her looking so tired and drawn, tore at her heart. They had always been so close, but Clare had become concerned when Erica never seemed to return her calls. When the opportunity to visit had unexpectedly presented itself by way of a conference in the nearby town, she had jumped on it. Clare had decided not to tell Erica she was coming -- that way her sister would not have the chance to make excuses to prevent her from visiting. She was glad she had made the effort now. It seemed that Erica was seriously in need of some sisterly support. "How's things?" asked Clare nonchalantly, watching the dark emotions flit across Erica's face like a storm cloud. "Oh so so," her sister replied evenly, placing two cups of tea on the kitchen table. She watched silently as her traitorous daughter pretended to be an angel child now that Clare had her on her lap. It was astonishing, she thought, five minutes before Clare arrived, the child had been threatening to start bawling again. Now she was all sunshine and smiles. "Really?" Clare said sceptically. She sipped the scalding liquid carefully and silently hoped Erica would open up without too much pressure being brought to bear. "Yeah, I'm fine." Clare didn't believe a word of it and she fixed her with a searching stare. "Erica, you look like shit. What's going on?" Erica promptly burst into tears and Clare immediately went and placed the baby in her rocker. "Hey, whatever's wrong?" she asked, taking her sister in her arms and hugging her tightly. She could smell the stale clothes and her nose wrinkled in protest. "It's not how I thought it would be," sobbed Erica brokenly. "Being a mum was meant to be fun! I imagined I would toddle along to mother and baby classes, drink lots of tea and watch too much daytime television whilst polishing off a packet of chocolate digestives. "Instead the reality is a baby who can scream for England and a husband who isn't talking to me!" She wiped her eyes and looked at Clare mournfully while Charlotte sat happily in the rocker and made a liar out of her. "Okay, I know it can't be easy with a small baby," said Clare carefully. She didn't have much experience of babies and she was wary of making light of Erica's problems. "But aside from that, what's wrong between you and Chris? I thought you two were love's young dream?" Erica snorted, almost seeing the funny side of the comment. "I'm cooped up in this house all day with only a screaming baby for company, while he swans off to work and fails to understand that I need a break from time to time!" "But do you actually LET him help?" Clare knew damn well her sister was an absolute control freak. "It would nice if he actually offered occasionally," sniffed Erica. She chose to ignore the times he had tried to help and been rebuffed by her criticism. "So how bad have things got?" asked Clare, hoping like hell that it was all a storm in a teacup. She liked Chris and she knew he loved Erica very much. It would be an absolute tragedy if they split up because neither of them was willing to sit and talk about their problems. Clare felt like banging their stubborn heads together. She was willing to bet that they were each refusing to back down. Erica sighed and glanced out of the window. Where could she begin - with the last row or the Mexican standoff that had been in place ever since? It was bloody hopeless. She was just too damned tired to care anymore. "I just feel so alone..." she said in a small voice. Clare gazed at her beloved sister. She could see the strain etched all over her face, the tiredness wrought in her features. There would be time to talk later. Right now, Erica needed to relax for a bit. "Tell you what, why don't you go and soak in a hot bath while I look after my gorgeous niece and make some dinner?" A tiny glimmer of relief appeared in Erica's eyes and she looked up gratefully. "Are you sure you can cope?" "Of course I can! I have to deal with far worse every day -- just how demanding can one child be exactly?" Erica didn't have the heart to disillusion her on that score. She would find out the hard way. "Charlotte's jar of food is on the side, over there," she said, pointing across the kitchen. "She may not be hungry yet, but if she gets grumpy, she will want feeding. Are you sure you'll be okay?" Clare frowned crossly at her sister's worried expression. "YES!" she said. "Now go and get in the bath before I change my mind..." Erica didn't need asking twice. She disappeared upstairs to run a steaming hot bath and filled it with every scented bottle of potion she could find. Chances like this didn't come along all that often. Most of the time she had to make do with a two-minute shower. A long, hot bath was a real luxury and she intended to make the most of it. * * * Clare flicked through a take-away menu and chose some food for them both. After she had ordered it, she opened a bottle of wine and began to clear up the kitchen while Charlotte played happily in her rocker chair. It didn't take an expert to see how down and depressed Erica was. She had never seen her sister dragged so low before -- she had always been the strong one out of the two of them. It seemed more than just a case of the baby blues. Clare instinctively knew it was more serious than that. She thought about how she could help her sister as she loaded the dishwasher and tidied round the kitchen. The first thing she intended to do was to have a long serious chat with Chris. He needed to be made aware of just how bad things were. The way things were heading, a divorce was imminent and the only people to gain from that mess would be the solicitors. No, tomorrow she was going to speak to her brother and listen to his side of things. Maybe between the three of them they could find a solution to all the problems. * * * Chris was rather shocked to receive a phone call from Clare. He was sat reading a paper during a break in the meetings. When the caller display told him his sister was on the other end of the line, he thought for one horrible moment something awful had happened. "Hello Clare?" "Chris, we need to talk..." They managed to cover an awful lot of ground over the next twenty minutes and Chris was left with a deep feeling of inadequacy and guilt. Clare had explained just how depressed his wife was. He honestly had not realised she was so miserable. He soon began to realise just how serious things were. He also felt even guiltier about kissing Connie. He had really stepped out of line and he needed to make amends before he lost everything that was important to him. They ran out of time and Chris agreed to call Clare that evening. He needed to ask her advice about a few things and he hoped that she could help him with his fledgling plan. He just prayed it wasn't too late... * * * Chris was packing his laptop away on Friday afternoon when there was a faint knock on his office door. "Come in," he said loudly, trying to recall if he had answered the last email from Mr Wong. "Hello, would you like a coffee?" Connie's voice was sweeter than a mug of chocolate and but this time it had no effect at all. "Hello Connie. No thanks, not this time -- I'm leaving early for once," Chris told her as he moved some of the files on to his shelf. "Oh, do you have something nice planned?" she asked curiously, her eyes flickering with interest. "As a matter of fact, yes - I am taking my wife away for a couple of days. She deserves spoiling for a change." He smiled lightly at Connie, noticing the way her face fell in sharp disappointment. It made him feel like a bastard, but he needed her to know that he couldn't offer her what she was obviously looking for. He loved his wife and he had no intention of risking his marriage for a quick fling with another woman - even if she was an incredibly sexy woman... "Oh that's nice," said Connie flatly. "I hope so," replied Chris. "She needs to know how much I love her." He looked pointedly at Connie, just to make sure she truly got his message. She backed away and said coolly, "Okay Mr Langdon. Have a nice weekend," With a flick of her long hair, she flounced out of the office without a backwards glance. * * * "Pack some things -- we're going away for the weekend." Chris said as he dumped his laptop case in the study Erica looked at him as if he had suddenly grown an extra head. "Are you insane?" she asked. "And who exactly is going to care for our daughter over the weekend?" she added sarcastically. "I am..." Clare walked through the front door carrying a small holdall and a carrier bag full of toys. She had had great fun shopping at Toys-R-Us and she was looking forward to sharing them with her niece. Okay, so Charlotte might be rather young for Miami Barbie, but a girl needed to learn about accessorising as early as possible. "What's going on here?" Erica asked, suddenly realising that she had been set up. "What's going on is that WE are going to a nice hotel and YOU are going to be pampered for a couple of days." Chris was beginning to enjoy the look of astonishment on his wife's face. "Sis, just shift your backside up those stairs and pack! Charlotte and I have cartoons to watch." Clare took her jacket off and walked into the lounge where the baby was lying on her colourful play mat. She cooed at Clare and began to kick her legs excitedly in the air. For a moment Erica felt a twinge of jealousy when she saw how Charlotte reacted to Clare. It was clear that the baby adored her. "Just go!" Clare said when she turned to see Erica watching her and the baby. "We will be just fine without you -- I promise." Wishing she had as much confidence, Erica disappeared upstairs into their bedroom and threw some clothes in a small bag. She didn't exactly know what to take as she had no idea what kind of hotel they were staying in. Just in case she packed a decent dress and matching shoes. Chris was stood checking his watch by the time she came back downstairs. "Ready?" he asked slightly impatiently. "I think so..." Erica felt anything BUT ready. The thought of leaving her daughter even for two days was scary. They hadn't been apart since she had been born. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" she asked Clare again, feeling hot tears pricking her eyes as she watched Charlotte playing with a new toy. "Yes we'll be fine. Enjoy yourself Sis - you need some time out." Clare smiled reassuringly and Erica felt slightly better. She knew Clare was right. She did need some time out and she also needed some time alone with her husband. It appeared that he had finally worked out all was not well in their little world. * * * Chris reversed the car down the drive and drove through town towards the by-pass. Erica was silent for several miles and he began to wonder if she going to ignore him all weekend. He bloody hoped not -- that was hardly the point of the exercise. "When did you plan all this?" she asked suddenly. He turned to look at her for a moment. "Clare rang me after she saw you," he admitted. "She was worried and thought you needed a break." He braced himself for a barrage of abuse about all the crimes he had committed recently, but she said nothing. She just nodded and returned to staring out of the window. After a while the silence began to un-nerve him and he turned the radio on. Pop music played out as the car slowly ate up the miles and Chris decided to leave it up to her when they talked about stuff. They had all weekend to sort things out. He just hoped that he hadn't left it too damned late. * * * Chris turned into a long gravel driveway and slowly headed towards the main building. It was a beautiful country house hotel, surrounded by green parkland and ancient trees. The cream stone façade looked like it belonged in a Jane Austin novel and Erica was immensely impressed. They walked into the elegant reception and Erica began to wish she had dressed up a little more. She felt like the poor relative who really ought to be entering via the servants' quarters, not the main entrance. Massive oil paintings hung on the walls and huge vases of fresh flowers were placed on every available surface. The whole décor screamed good taste and class. She couldn't help wondering how much the room had cost -- it was likely to be expensive. Chris checked them in whilst Erica loitered to one side, reading the extensive list of services offered and worrying whether Clare was coping with her daughter. She was desperate to call home and check, but she knew Clare would just tell her she was being over-protective. "Come on," said Chris with a faint smile. "I have the key." Erica nodded and followed him as he ascended the stairs. The last time they had stayed in such a luxurious hotel had been the year before Charlotte was born. She smiled as she remembered they had barely left the room in the five days they had stayed. The smile faded as she realised Chris was probably expecting something similar this time round. Despite the novelty of being here, she found it hard to summon up the enthusiasm for sex. Tiredness still dominated her brain and most of her was simply looking forward to an uninterrupted nights sleep. * * * Their room turned out to be a suite. It had a large living room overlooking the park at the rear of the house, complete with floor to ceiling french windows and an elegant balcony. The bedroom was just as large, dominated by a king size bed and an open fireplace stacked with logs. A luxurious en-suite bathroom was off the bedroom, complete with expensive bottles of toiletries. Killing Me Softly It was beautiful. It must have cost a fortune and Erica was about to comment as such, when she thought better of it. Maybe all the overtime Chris had been putting in had actually been for a good reason. She decided to just enjoy the moment -- it seemed churlish to criticise his apparent thoughtfulness. "If you want to go and soak in the bath, we can go down for dinner at eight o'clock. Is that alright?" Chris asked as he began to unpack his own bag. "Yeah, fine." Erica pulled out her wash bag and disappeared into the bathroom to run a bath. Before long the fragrant scented water beckoned her in and she lay relaxing in the hot steam while Chris watched the television in their living room. It was absolute bliss and gradually all the stresses and strains began to ebb away. She was almost asleep when Chris came in and reminded her that it was nearly eight o'clock. Yawning heavily, she clambered out and dried herself on a thick towel. The big problem now was what the hell she going to wear. If she had had any idea that they were coming to a hotel of this calibre, she might have taken more care with her packing. Her dress thankfully looked semi okay when she examined her reflection critically in the mirror. Her hair badly needed cutting, but a haircut was a luxury she did not have the time for these days. With a sigh, she pinned the unruly waves back in a chignon and stepped into her shoes. "Ready now?" Chris asked patiently. "I guess so," she said, adding a touch of lipstick. "Do I look okay?" she asked suddenly, not sure what prompted the question. "Always," he said. For a moment they looked at each other, both remembering the infinitesimal things that had kept them together in the years since they had met and fallen in love. Chris looked away and glanced at his watch, breaking the spell. "Come on," he said briskly. "I'm starving..." He opened the door and held it while Erica passed him, her dress swirling around her legs. He watched her as she walked away down the corridor. Her dress reminded him of one she had worn many moons ago. That had been crimson red, cut low at the front and clingy in all the right places. He recalled how he had spent the entire evening of their date struggling to control a hard-on. He smiled fondly as he followed her down towards the staircase. * * * Erica silently undressed and climbed into the huge bed. She was almost dead on her feet; the large meal and several glasses of wine were having a soporific effect. She had also been up since before five this morning and the thought of sleep was blissful. Chris finished in the bathroom and came to bed, switching off the lamp on his side. As soon as he climbed under the covers, Erica felt herself tense up, expecting him to pounce on her. Much to her surprise he kissed her lightly and rolled away from her. She was left feeling slightly rejected and despite her best efforts, almost disappointed. But she was too tired to really care, so she curled up and shut her eyes. Within seconds, she was fast asleep. Chris listened to her rhythmic breathing and turned onto his back. He had made a deliberate decision to not try and rush things -- and that included sex. If he tried to force the issue, he knew she would feel he had only brought her away for one reason only. And that simply wasn't the case. Sex was important, but not as important as his wife being happy. If she needed time, then he was happy to let her take that time. He could wait a while longer -- although it was not easy when she lay next to him, sexy as hell. It took a long time for him to fall asleep. * * * "I have booked you in for a few things," announced Chris over breakfast. "Such as?" said Erica warily, before eating another delicious croissant. It was amazing how good the food was -- and how lovely it was to actually have the opportunity to eat it without having to jump up and down every two seconds. "You said you needed a haircut -- so you have an appointment in the salon at eleven o'clock. Then after lunch, I thought you might like a spell in the beautician's. They said you could have whatever treatments you fancy. "Are you serious?" "Yeah -- don't you want it?" Chris said nonchalantly. "Hey if you don't -- I'll go instead. I rather fancy a massage..." his voice trailed off when he saw the glare she threw him. "Just kidding!" he laughed. "Anyway, I'll be busy having a golf lesson while you are busy being pampered." Once she thought about it, Erica decided that she might enjoy all this pampering. It would be nice to have someone else fussing over her for a change. * * * By five o'clock, Erica was trimmed, primped and waxed to her hearts content. She wandered back up to their suite feeling a million dollars. For the first time in ages she felt relaxed and almost inclined to think about sex. There was a spring to her step as she waltzed down the corridor towards their room. A tall gentleman walking in the opposite direction threw her a quick assessing smile, blatantly checking her out. She gave him a small flirty smile in return, enjoying the brief attention. His hungry look made her feel sexy and desirable. This was something that had been conspicuously absent for a long time. Chris was stretched out on the bed when she let herself into the room. His eyes were closed and for a moment Erica thought he was asleep, but then he sat up slightly and said, "Hey, had fun?" "I think so," she replied with a faint smile. Quickly she turned towards the tall mirror and examined her reflection. The stylist had chopped a fair amount off the length of her hair, but she had cut layers into the thickness and it actually looked a lot better. The natural wave lent body to her style and Erica was immensely pleased with it. Her skin felt smooth and soft and she reached down to stroke the curve of her calf, enjoying the unfamiliar sensation of hairless skin. She watched her hand sliding up the smooth skin, enjoying the sensual feeling of bare flesh beneath her fingertips. As she lifted her eyes back to her reflection, she realised Chris was watching her. The expression on his face was taut and she suddenly sensed the unmistakable sexual tension in the air. For a moment they watched each other, eyes locked via the mirror. It was strangely erotic and Erica felt her body reacting to the voyeuristic aspect. She slowly ran her hand up her bare leg, lifting the skirt she was wearing to reveal the top of her thigh. It was a thrill to expose her body like this. Suddenly she felt in control; the power of her femininity giving her a boldness she'd not known for a long time. Licking her lips, she continued to watch Chris watching her. He had moved so that he sat on the edge of the bed, still watching her, his eyes dark and unfathomable. Desire sent sharp spikes of pleasure through her veins. She suddenly realised how much she had missed this. It had been far too long since they enjoyed sex. Not sex -- making love. The intimacy had been missing for months, lost in a whirl of domesticity and drudgery. The sheer hard work of having a baby had sent everything else into the background. Erica began to see just how much she craved Chris's touch. She remembered how he used to caress her body, how he would spend hours building the tension until she was literally at screaming point. She wanted him now. Oh how badly she needed his touch. Knowing he was watching every little thing she did, she reached up to cup her breasts, feeling how hard and aching her nipples were, the heavy flesh still full from the baby. Teasingly she undid the buttons on her blouse, holding Chris's gaze as she slipped the fabric from her shoulders, revealing her black lace bra. She heard his sharp intake of breath when she rubbed her nipples lightly, enjoying the ripples of pleasure travelling straight to her clit. Before she even realised it, he had moved behind her, his breath tickling the fine hairs on her neck and his hands cupping her flesh. "You look gorgeous," he said softly. "I like the new hair style -- it suits you." "Thanks..." whispered Erica. She half closed her eyes as they stood in front of the mirror. She could see his fingers across her breasts and the sight of this erotic image in conjunction with the physical feeling of his hands, excited her beyond measure. "Are you hungry?" Chris asked, his fingers rubbing across her nipples lightly. "Yes, very," replied Erica. She wasn't referring to dinner and they both knew it. He chuckled against her hair and she felt the firm heat of his erection pressing into the curve of her bottom. With a smile she pushed herself back against him and enjoyed the way he groaned in response. "Tease!" he muttered. He reached into the cup of her bra and pinched her nipples eliciting a gasp from her in retaliation. "Two can play at that game!" he laughed. Erica didn't want to play games so she turned round and kissed her husband hard, pulling his body firmly against her own. They had the rest of the evening to play slow teasing games. Now was the time to reacquaint her body with his hard cock. She wanted to feel him inside her, hard and urgent. Nothing else would do right at that moment. "I want you in me," she said harshly, reaching down to grasp his shaft with her small hand. He felt like hot steel, throbbing with blood and ready to take her. She felt her body well up with moisture, readying itself for him; aching feverishly in anticipation. Chris did not reply; he crushed her mouth to his, threading his hand through her hair roughly. It hurt, but Erica was beyond caring at that moment. She felt her skirt being lifted and her knickers pulled to one side. His fingers pushed through the slick folds of her sex, sliding easily into the dripping wetness. All of her concentration zeroed in on that centre of sensation. She could hear herself panting and moaning, but she didn't care. All she cared about was this moment. The faint sound of a zipper and then she was lifted slightly and he plunged inside her, right up to the hilt. For a moment her body protested slightly at the invasion. It had been a while and she was not used to the feeling of fullness. Chris took the few steps back to the edge of the bed, still carrying her. He kissed her neck gently as he lowered her back onto the covers. Erica reached down and pushed her fingers beneath her knickers to touch her clit. With eyes half closed she gazed up at Chris languidly. "Fuck me," she said softly. With a growl of assent, he began to move within her, slowly at first, then harder and faster. He bent to kiss her breasts as he fucked her, licking her nipples and biting them gently. "God you feel good," he breathed harshly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and met each movement with a sharp thrust of her own. Her orgasm built up and hovered on the edge of her consciousness as Chris's cock plunged in and out of her receptive body. "Harder!" she muttered as the tension grew. Grabbing hold of his hip, she pulled him into her and ground her clit against him. The wave crested and broke, crashing over her in sharp spikes of pleasure. For a moment she was utterly immersed in the bliss, oblivious to everything else. Dimly she was aware of Chris gasping his own pleasure as he came inside her and she felt the flood of warmth high up in her pussy. Her body shuddered with orgasmic contractions, the feelings melting through her veins like warm treacle. Chris collapsed on top of her and rolled to one side, breathing hard. For a while they lay across the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs and sticky juices. Then Chris turned to her, dropped a gentle kiss on her lips and said, "Let's have a bath." "Okay," agreed Erica sleepily. "You go run it and I'll wait here." She felt like warm marshmallow, all soft and sweet. The thought of falling asleep for an hour was all too tempting, but she knew that would be fatal. She would not sleep later. She had almost dozed off when Chris dropped down on the bed beside her. "Come on, your bath awaits my dear," he chuckled, pulling some stray strands of hair from where they had drifted on to her face. Erica opened her eyes sleepily and yawned. "I can't move," she complained. "I'm too comfortable here..." She soon moved when he slapped her leg, hard. "Get your lazy arse into that bath before I'm forced to throw water on you!" he warned. Giggling, Erica reluctantly dragged herself from the bed and walked into the bathroom. Clouds of scented steam filled the air and the water was covered with fragrant bubbles. She had to admit it did look inviting. A sudden pang hit her when she realised it would be Charlotte's bath time now. She had spoken to Clare earlier on that afternoon and her sister had assured her they were coping fine. It still didn't stop Erica feeling like a bad mother for abandoning her daughter. "She'll be fine, you know." Chris's voice interrupted her thoughts and she jumped slightly. "How did you know I was thinking about Charlotte?" she asked in surprise. "I know you," he said simply. "Now get in that bath before I throw you in, clothes and all..." * * * The water was deliciously hot and relaxing. Erica lay back against Chris's chest and closed her eyes. It had been a long time since they had had the chance to do something as utterly simple and enjoyable as having a bath together. It was surprising how much she missed the small things like this. His hands crept up her rib cage and cupped her breasts teasingly. With a small murmur Erica slid against him in the water, feeling his growing erection nudging into her back. This made her smile and it reminded her of their honeymoon in Venice when the bathroom had almost been flooded from their antics in the bath. How long ago that seemed, she thought wistfully. They had barely left the room that week in Venice. Despite all her declarations that she wanted to see the sights, when it came down to it, she was more interested in fucking Chris. She laughed when she recalled the strawberries he had bought and subsequently smeared all over her naked body. Oh what a mess the bed had been -- she still felt embarrassed at the memory of the maids face when she came to clean the room. "What's so funny?" asked Chris curiously. "I was thinking about Venice and the strawberries," she giggled helplessly. "Oh yeah!" Chris said with a laugh, "God I had forgotten about that!" He shifted in the water and squeezed her nipple. "It was fun though -- we should do stuff like that more often..." "Not if I'm washing the sheets we won't be," Erica snorted in response. He was right though; this was half the problem -- they had forgotten how to be a couple and had gotten bogged down in parenting. Or at least she had. "I'm sorry," she said suddenly, feeling tears pricking her eyes unexpectedly. "What for exactly?" asked Chris in bemusement. "Everything," she said sitting up. She needed to talk about things -- remembering all the good times made her see the bad stuff in sharp focus. There was too much love left to risk throwing it all away. "I know things haven't been good recently," she ventured cautiously as she turned to face Chris, hooking her legs over his. "No they haven't," he agreed. "But that's not just down to you -- I share the blame too." Silently they both considered just where it had all gone wrong. "It's just been so hard with Charlotte," said Erica. "I feel like I'm all alone some days and you don't help!" Chris was about to argue that he DID help -- but then he thought about it and he saw that maybe he could have done more. "Maybe I could help more," he admitted. "But you won't let me half the time!" She considered what he said and part of her knew he was right. It just seemed easier to do things herself, rather than have to bite her tongue when he did it wrong, or not to her exacting standards. "Okay -- maybe you have a point there..." "I didn't realise how down you were feeling." He pulled her across his chest and slid down so they were both partially submerged in the warm water. A wave slopped dangerously near the top of the bath but although some water splashed, the floor stayed relatively dry this time. "Why didn't you talk to me?" he asked gently. "I couldn't. There never seemed to be time to talk about things." Erica thought about it and then continued, "I suppose I thought I could handle it. Now I've realised I'm not superwoman." "No, you're not," Chris said, hugging her tightly against his chest. He was silent for a moment. "I've been thinking about things this afternoon, while I was trying to hit a small ball into a small hole -- and not succeeding too well. How about we let Charlotte go to nursery a couple of afternoons a week?" "Oh I don't know—" "Please think about it Erica. Clare thought it would do you both the world of good -- Charlotte gets to mix with other babies and you have a break." Erica rested her head in the hollow of Chris's shoulder. Although the thought of passing her baby to a stranger for a few hours was painful to imagine, the rational part of her brain knew it was probably a good idea. If nothing else it might restore her sanity. "Can we afford it?" she asked dubiously. "Yes!" Erica sat up again and stared at Chris intently. "You've really given this some thought haven't you?" she said in surprise. "I've thought of nothing else all week," he said. "I love you and I want you to be happy again." He kissed her lingeringly and she felt the flames of desire lick their way through her body once again. "There's something else we need to do," he told her, stroking her hip in the warm water. "Oh what's that?" she replied huskily. "We need to set aside some time for US on a regular basis." "Okay, agreed." He was right and she knew it. As much as she had felt uncertain about this weekend away, she realised that it had been the best thing they could have done. They had managed to reconnect on an intimate level. Much longer and it might have been too late. She loved Chris too damn much to want to risk their relationship again. Marriage was something they both had to work at -- they had become complacent over time and had forgotten all the wonderful reasons they were together in the first place. "The only problem with that plan is that Clare won't be able to baby-sit every time we want a night out." "She might soon -- she's being relocated down this way. She told me last week." "WHAT? How come she never mentioned it to me?" "Well she didn't know for certain when she came to see you. When she told me I said to keep the news secret until after this weekend. I wasn't certain if it would matter -- I was scared we wouldn't be able to mend the bridges..." Erica looked at him and saw just how worried he had been. That was when she knew how close they had come to a serious rift. "Have I told you lately I love you?" Chris asked softly. "No you haven't," Erica replied. "But we have the rest of our lives for you to tell me..." She kissed him, ignoring the water slopping over the edge of the bath. It didn't matter - nothing did apart from this moment. * * * Erica peered in through the glass door and saw Charlotte straight away. She was sat on the carpet playing with some wooden bricks. Her face was screwed up in concentration as she decided which one to pick up. The other toddlers around her were all engaged in various activities and children were happy and evidently enjoying themselves. Erica pressed the buzzer and Hannah, one of the staff, came to unlock the door. "Hi Erica!" she smiled. "We've had a great day today - Charlotte has done some painting for you." Hannah pointed to a sheet of paper covered in painted footprints and Erica grinned. She could well imagine the mess that 'foot painting' created and she was just relieved that it wasn't her mess to clear up. Killing Me Softly Charlotte heard her mother's voice and she began to bounce up and down with excitement when Erica picked her up. "Hey sweetie!" Erica cooed into her soft hair. "Have you been a good girl today?" "She's been lovely as always," said Hannah. Charlotte squirmed in Erica's arms and made enthusiastic noises. "Okay sweetie, let's get you home. Auntie Clare is babysitting while mummy and daddy go out." "Oh that sounds fun -- anywhere nice?" Hannah asked in a friendly tone. "We're just going to the cinema and then for a meal after. Nothing fancy," she smiled. Fancy wasn't important though. What was important was the time they spent together as a couple. Since the weekend away four months ago, things had improved a hundred times over. Chris had realised just how hard she found it coping with Charlotte and she had made a huge effort to allow him to help her more. Life wasn't perfect -- but it was a whole lot better. Erica grabbed Charlotte's changing bag and said her goodbyes to the nursery staff. "See you on Friday!" she called as they left and Charlotte waved her hand over her shoulder. Clare was coming round for six o'clock and Chris had promised he wouldn't be late. That gave her just enough time to get Charlotte ready for bed and allow her to change into something nice for going out. She felt herself tingle with anticipation when she thought of the new lingerie she had bought to show off. She knew Chris would appreciate it and the thought of him removing it slowly was enough to paint a smile on her face all the way home. There was a lot to be said for being happily married, she thought dreamily. Killing Me Softly "I think my husband is trying to kill me." Patricia Mulholland looked up from her desk at the very pretty young woman standing in her doorway. She was petite, a definite contrast to Pat's own Amazonian frame, with soft brown hair that flowed over her shoulders and brown eyes magnified by wire-frame glasses. Pat could see the drawn, haggard look in them, a look that had almost gone past terror into a dull fatalism. Almost, but not quite. Pat immediately believed that the woman believed what she was saying; however, as a Homicide detective, Pat was more than familiar with people who saw murder around every corner. "I see," she said, setting down her pen and sliding aside her paperwork. "And what makes you think that?" "Because..." the woman seemed to be trying to frame a difficult concept into words. "Because I don't like cherries anymore." Pat let her smile become fixed, plastic. No point in antagonizing the crazy. This lady might only weigh 100 pounds soaking wet, but sometimes persecution complexes gave people unnatural strength. She'd just let her run her string, and find a good excuse to get her into a padded room before anything bad happened. "Of course," Pat said. "Just sit down, and tell me all about it, Mrs..." The woman sank into the chair opposite Pat's. "Braun. Cynthia Braun, Detective..." She looked down at the nameplate on the desk. "Detective Mulholland. And I can tell you don't believe me. I don't know if I can make you believe me. But I just...this is my last chance, I think. To tell anyone. And if you can't help me, nobody can." Pat nodded soothingly. "Just go ahead and tell me all about it." She felt the weight of her gun against her side, and privately thanked her habit of wearing it even in the office. "My husband, Tim and I...we married young. Just out of high school. I thought it was going to be a perfect marriage, and for a while, it was..." Her eyes went out of focus slightly, as though she was trying to recall something stubbornly elusive. "At least, I think it was. We went through college together, he majored in communications, I majored in, um..." Cynthia stumbled for a moment. "Journalism! It was journalism. Tim, he got a really good job in advertising, and...that was three years ago, I think. We'd both been working, even though a woman's place is in the home..." She clenched her teeth together. "Sorry. I know I'm not making much sense." Pat held up a placating hand. "That's quite alright," she said. "You don't need to worry about anything. I'm on your side in all this, and I want to help you." Was she laying it on too thick? "Cynthia rubbed her forehead. "Don't patronize me," she gritted out. "Tim, he does that, he...I liked my job, but when he got his new position, he started saying how now we could have kids, and I could quit my job, but I...I liked my job." She looked pleadingly at Pat. "Please don't tell my husband that, but I did. I wanted to keep working. I didn't want..." she shuddered, as if confessing a dreadful secret. "I didn't want to have kids yet." Pat almost rolled her eyes. What was she, a fucking marriage counselor? But she reminded herself of the 'crazy' part, and kept her expression carefully neutral. "Tim got angry. Not, I mean, he didn't hit me. He's not a big man. But he wasn't happy. He thought that I was going to settle down someday, be a good wife and mother, and when I told him that wasn't what I wanted...he withdrew. He became distant, spent more time away from the home, and when he was home, he was on the computer. He started talking to other men, men who felt the same way he did. They made him even worse, I think. Reinforced his beliefs, got him involved in some 'men's rights' groups...before I knew it, we were fighting all the time. It wasn't just the job anymore. He felt like I was disagreeing with him too much. Not being a good wife. I don't--" She choked off a sob. "I don't remember our wedding vows word for word, Detective. I don't know whether I actually said 'love, honor and obey'. He says I did, though. And I..." She shook her head a little. Pat started to wonder if maybe there wasn't something to this story. Not necessarily what Cynthia was saying, not a threat to murder her, but some sort of mental abuse? The woman seemed terrified, confused, practically disoriented. "He started talking about making me into a good wife. Went back to his communications studies, wouldn't tell me what he was doing, or why. And then about six months ago..." She sighed. "I was eating cherries. I used to love cherries, but he always hated the smell of cherries, and I tried not to eat them, but when we were fighting, I indulged myself a little more. It was petty, but I did it. And one day I was eating cherries, and he came out of the little sound lab he had in the basement, and he saw me eating them, and he just walked over to me, and he said, in this soft, firm, tone, 'Stop that. You don't like cherries anymore.'" Cynthia reached across the desk and grabbed Pat's hand before she could stop her. "And I didn't. Do you understand? It was something about his tone, or the volume, or something. Something in his voice. It made me stop liking cherries. I'd loved cherries all my life, ever since I was three, and I just stopped, right there. I haven't touched one since." Pat gently extricated her hand. This didn't feel like a normal crazy woman. It didn't feel like anything Pat had ever experienced before. She wanted to get this woman the hell out of her office. "He said some other things to me that day, but they didn't work. He'd figured out how to do...the thing with his voice...but he wasn't good at it yet. He couldn't always get the voice right. But he's been getting better. I quit my job last month. I didn't want to, I was up for a promotion, but he told me to in that soft voice, and I did. "And he's still getting better at it. He's telling me things, and...and he's changing me. He's changing my mind. And I'm starting to forget the person I used to be. I'm turning into the woman Tim wants me to be, and the old Cynthia's fading away, like I'm dying and being replaced by this other woman...it was so hard to leave the house today, so hard to come out here, but he's away on business, and I managed to come see you, but I...I..." Her expression changed, so quickly it barely registered. A dreamy, slightly worried smile spread across her face. "I should go. I don't want Tim to get into any trouble over me." Pat stood up. "It's OK," she said. "I believe you." Cynthia's expression changed back to one of fear and desperation. But now it mingled with hope. "You do? You'll help me?" "Of course." Pat took her arm gently and guided her out of the office. "But we'll need to do a formal psychiatric evaluation, if we're going to help fix what your husband's done to you." She led Cynthia into an open area, silently signaling another officer with her free hand. "It might take a few days, but don't worry, we'll keep you away from your husband until your head has cleared up." Another officer approached her, and she said, "Let's get this young lady down to Bellevue." The officer nodded, and took Cynthia's other arm as Pat let go. "Oh, thank goodness," Cynthia said. "I've been so scared, I didn't know what to do." She gave Pat one last look as the officer led her away. "You...do believe me, don't you?" she said, just before vanishing around a corner. "Of course I do," Pat called out. Of course I don't. Do I? ***** Paperwork followed the visit, then red tape followed the paperwork, then more paperwork followed the red tape, then Pat got snowed under with other cases, and it was almost a week before she found out what happened to Cynthia Braun. But when she did, she wished she hadn't. "You checked her out?" she said into the phone, incredulously. "Nah," the orderly said on the other end of the line. "Her husband came along and checked her out." Pat took a deep breath. "Her husband. The one she thinks is trying to kill him. And she went with him." "Yeah. He said it was nothing, just a little hysteria. I mean, you know women, right?" Pat reflected on how lucky it was that the orderly wasn't there. She didn't need a lawsuit, and he didn't need to have all his teeth knocked down his throat. "Yes, I know women quite well. I happen to be one of them. And you'd be surprised how few of us suffer from the belief that someone's trying to erase our personality using brainwashing voices. Listen, I talked to Cynthia Braun. She was not 'a little hysterical', she was crazy. Or whatever you shrinks call it now. She thought her husband was erasing her brain, she wasn't just going to 'get over it.'" "She did, though." The orderly sounded bored. "We let him in to see her, and after a few minutes, she was all smiles. Apologizing to everyone." "Wait, you let him in to see her? Alone? Is that normal procedure?" "Well, no, but..." The orderly's voice trailed off. "He said it'd be a good idea, that he could get this straightened up. Doctor Fisher wasn't sure at first, but Mister Braun, he, um..." The orderly's voice sounded vague and confused now. "He explained everything. It was just a little hysteria, like I said. Yeah." The voice on the other end of the line sounded firm now, like he was back on familiar ground. "Just a little hysteria. You know women." Something about the way he said those last words gave Pat a little chill. Like he was reading from a script. "I see. Well, sounds like everything's wrapped up, then." She hung up without waiting for him to say good-bye. She was already looking through the stacks of paperwork for the Braun family's address. An hour later, she was out in Queens, parking outside of a nice apartment building. She rang the buzzer, and a woman's voice answered. "Hi," she said, "Cyndi here!" Pat said, "Hi, um...Cyndi. This is Pat, the police officer from a few days ago. Do you...remember me?" There was a long pause. "Sure!" Cyndi said at last. "Gosh, ma'am, I'm sorry to have put you to all that trouble. I was just being a little silly, was all. I'm feeling much better now." Pat said, "Can you let me up to see you for a minute?" She put a little extra syrup in her voice. "I just have to do that, for the paperwork, and then everything will be off the books and Tim will be cleared of any nasty suspicions." She felt kind of bad about lying to Cynthia...er, Cyndi...but if her suspicions were correct, then Cyndi would do anything to make Tim's life easier, including letting an armed cop into their apartment. And if her crazier suspicions were correct, Cyndi wouldn't be bright enough to realize Pat was lying to her. Sure enough, the door unlocked, and Pat went up to the Braun apartment. Cyndi let her in. "Hi!" she said. "It's nice to see you again, ma'am. It really is!" Pat wished she could say the same. Cyndi was dressed in a halter-top and tight cut-off shorts, and she held a feather duster in one hand. "Just keeping up on the chores," Cyndi said in response to the unasked question. "I better do it now, because pretty soon, I'll have a hard time getting around." She leaned in, and whispered excitedly in Pat's ear, "I just found out last night...I'm pregnant!" Pat recoiled, saw the look of glee on Cyndi's face, and almost recoiled further. The desperation, the fear that Pat had seen just a week ago was totally gone now, replaced by a sort of vacant tranquility. "Cyndi....when you saw me last week, do you remember what you came into the station to see me about?" Cyndi furrowed her brow. "Something about...it was something about Tim, and he was...I was upset with him. I think. Something silly, and I was being even sillier by bothering you with it. But you know how us women are, right?" She elbowed Pat in the ribs and giggled. "Yes," Pat said. "I know how us women are." She took Cyndi's hand. "I need you to come with me for a minute, dear. I, um...I'm going to help you find a good doctor. For the baby. I can help you find one, that's what police are for." And this time, I'm going to make sure your husband doesn't know what doctor you're seeing, at least not until he figures out what the hell your husband did to your brain and how to fix it. Goddamn son of a bitch turned her into-- She turned. Tim was standing in the doorway. He was a small man, perhaps only thirty pounds heavier than his wife, with thinning red hair and glasses of his own. Pat was amazed at how quickly she managed to get her gun out. "You don't need to be afraid of me, Officer," he said softly. Damn straight I don't, she thought fiercely, I've got the gun trained on you. "You don't need to worry about me doing anything to you." She kept him squarely in his sights. She wasn't worried about him doing anything to her, but she felt a lot safer with the gun out all the same. "We're just having a quiet little chat," he said, still in that same quiet, calm tone, "and you don't need to go anywhere until we're done talking." Pat nodded. "Yeah, alright, let's talk. Let's talk about 'Cyndi'." "Cyndi's my wife," Tim said softly. "She's behaving like a good wife should. Like a good woman should. She's happy, and she's making me happy. That's not really any business for the police, is it?" Pat opened her mouth, but she couldn't seem to find any words to fill it with. She had to admit, there really wasn't any legal precedent for Tim's behavior. She'd look foolish trying to bring a case to a District Attorney. It was probably a good thing Tim had mentioned that to her, before she went ahead and did something that would get her in trouble. "In fact, you're already regretting pulling that gun out, aren't you?" Pat nodded. Visions of an accidental shot killing Tim, getting her put on administrative leave, even getting her fired, all flashed through her head. She was lucky nobody had been hurt by her behavior. "It's just lucky that you don't know how to fire that gun." Didn't know how to fire a gun? That was silly, she had hours and hours of firearm training. And it was so simple to do, you just cocked the handle, and then pulled the barrel...no, that wasn't right. You cocked the barrel, and...you...she looked down at the piece of metal in her hand, no longer entirely sure how to make it do anything. "Why don't you put it away now?" Tim said in soft, reasonable tones. Pat nodded, sliding it back into the holster. "That's better. It's probably safer if you just forgot you had that gun, now. You don't need it, after all. You're perfectly happy to just sit down and let me explain things to you." Pat sat down on the couch, feeling a warm, pleasant relaxation seep into her body. She felt a slow, dreamy smile spread across her face. She just felt...happy. Yes, happy. Happy to sit here, happy to listen to Tim, because they were having a quiet little chat, and she didn't need to go anywhere until it was over. "You're brainwashing me," she said quietly, but she couldn't muster up any real anger at the thought anymore. She was surprised at the faint, almost plaintive tone of her own voice. It was the only resistance she had left now. She couldn't fight it, she couldn't even stand up. "Don't be silly," he said, still using that quiet, firm voice that seemed to brook no disagreement. "I'm just explaining things to you. If I was brainwashing you, you'd notice your mind changing, but when I explain things to you, you understand that they're true and they've always been true. Everything I tell you is true and has always been true. You don't even notice any changes, do you?" "No," Pat said. A wave of relief passed through her body. She was so grateful to find out that Tim wasn't going to brainwash her that she almost missed his question. "What's your name?" Tim asked softly. "Pat," she said. "Pat Mulholland." "Patti's prettier, dear," he said. Patti nodded. "I have to say, Patti, it seems like you're not thinking through your actions very clearly. You came here when it wasn't your business to come here, you pulled the gun on me," Patti breathed a mental sigh of relief that she didn't have the gun anymore, given her recklessness with it earlier, "and it seems to me that the reason for this might be that you're trying to get yourself fired." Patti hadn't thought of it that way before, but it did make sense. But why would she be trying to get fired? She loved being a cop. "Because deep down, you want to stop being a policewoman, but you couldn't admit it to yourself before now." Patti thought the idea over for a moment. It was surprising, but she had to admit, once it was out in the open like that, she couldn't deny the truth of the notion. "Because women aren't really cut out for positions of authority. They need to be subservient to men. You didn't have a man to be subservient to, so you thought you could fill that void with police work, but deep down, you know it was wrong for you. You've always hated being a policewoman, but you never had a man before now." Patti's eyes were wide now, and some tiny part of her whispered that Tim had gotten even better at it now than he had with Cyndi, but she couldn't remember what 'it' was, and so she just kept listening to Tim's soft, firm tones as he explained things to her. "But now you have a man. You've got me, Patti, to take care of you, and so you can just take off that policewoman's outfit, and go ahead and feel how good it feels to be subservient to me. Cyndi, you understand that I'm taking a second wife, and that's just fine with you, because Patti can help you out with all your wifely duties, including pleasuring me." Patti saw Cyndi nodding for a moment, but it was just out of the corner of her eye as she pulled her clothes off. The weird harness on her shoulder gave her trouble for a moment, but she managed to shuck it off and slide it out of sight, out of mind. "That's very good, Patti. You're not wearing that policewoman's outfit anymore, because it's silly to think of you as a policewoman, isn't it?" Patti nodded, giggling. "You were never a policewoman. You were always my wife, and always happy, just like Cyndi, right?" Patti nodded happily, so glad to understand how good submission to her husband felt. He was taking off his pants now, and Patti was so happy to see her husband's cock. It meant that she had a chance to pleasure him, like a wife should. "Spread your legs, Patti. I'm going to knock you up. You want to have a baby for me, don't you?" Patti nodded eagerly. Tim stood up. "Tomorrow, you're going to dress up like a policewoman, and you're going to go down to the police station. Some people there will think you're a policewoman, and you're going to humor them, even though you know how silly that is. You're going to tell them you've decided to stop being a policewoman now, and you'll sign some papers to make sure they understand, and then you'll come back here. Doesn't that sound nice?" Patti just sighed happily, so glad Tim was explaining everything to her. She felt his cock slide into her warm pussy, and it felt just heavenly. "That's very good, Patti. It feels so good to be naked, to be sexy for your husband, to just do what I say and let me fuck you, doesn't it?" He was pumping his cock in and out of her, and it felt so good that she really couldn't even talk, just moan, but she could tell that he knew. "Good girl, Patti," he said, "it's always so good to obey me, so..." He was pumping faster now, his voice losing its calm, controlled tone. "That's good, Patti, and...ohh...I'll teach you more later, there's so much for you to learn..." His voice didn't seem to be as important now, Patti thought, he was having trouble keeping to those soft, even tones, but that was alright, she understood now that everything he said was very important, and she just let his dick slide in and out, in and out, clenching her pussy around him, trying to make him squirt into her, trying to make her wonderful husband come inside her, trying to get knocked up like Cyndi was, like a good wife should be, because she wanted to be a good wife now... Killing Me Softly Tim came inside her. Patti couldn't remember when she'd been so happy. THE END