5 comments/ 10265 views/ 11 favorites Hunter of Time By: tim4 Disclaimers: Despite the title, the story does not contain violence or action. This story might have some plot holes or factual errors. This is a fictional story after all. Slow start, all characters are 18 and over, not much sci-fi apart from the time travelling part of the story, you have been notified. ***** 24th October, 1985 Elizabeth smiled. She craved for this, not as drastic as falling on her knees, and begging for it, but it was damned close. But now, it's finally in her hands. She was holding it, a piece of history in the making. She hoped, at least. Super Mario Bros. That, and a copy of Duck Hunt, which she didn't want, but the seller made her a cheap offer if she agreed to buy both games. Something about a dog that he didn't take a liking to. Regardless, Elizabeth clutched both boxes tightly in her hands as she walked home, a hop in her steps. What's your idea of spending a nice autumn evening? Nightclubs, booze, hooking up with random strangers... Elizabeth disagrees. She'd never been the type to go clubbing, but instead she likes to stay indoors and game away. Her friends used to play with her, but they were still too young to understand any real mechanics of the game, which was similar to Pong. Elizabeth had to physically leave the room if her friends were to have any chances of winning. Maybe one day, she would have an actual adult, an actual friend, to play games with. She currently has a roommate, but she doesn't share Elizabeth's love of gaming. Elizabeth finally got back to the apartment complex at sundown, skipping steps on the flight of stairs that led up to her apartment, located on the first floor. Her keys nearly fell out of her hands in excitement; the simple task of inserting the key rivalled threading a needle at this point. They weren't games that could cure cancer by any means, or had any magical powers to be excited about, but they showed promise. She slammed the door. Not that anybody would care, or could care. Her roommate and her were the only tenants in the building. There were two apartments on each floor, totaling four, with the exception of the ground floor where the landlord was supposed to live, which only had one apartment. But her landlord managed multiple buildings, and he only came by to check once every month or so. 'Lizzy! There's mail for us!' Cindy, Elizabeth's roommate, shouted from her room. Slipped under their front door earlier was a letter from her landlord, or as Cindy put so elegantly, 'The Fat Controller', based on his appearances. The letter, a brief handwritten note from the landlord himself, revealed that she would have a neighbour from tomorrow on out. 'William Rorke' would be in Apartment 3 from tomorrow onwards, the apartment being the one she shares a wall with. 'Fantastic,' She mumbled under her breath. Not only does she have to turn down her music, but of all the empty apartments that he/she could've moved into, it had to be the one next to hers. 'fan-fucking-tastic.' Annoyed, she decided to calm down with a bit of gaming. She turned her NES and her TV on, and it wasn't switched to the right input setting. Elizabeth quietly cursed as Cindy forgot to change the input back after she finished a rerun of the A-Team, recorded a week ago. Elizabeth switched the input back, and started up Super Mario Bros. As she started, she noticed a multiplayer mode. She smiled at the thought that her neighbour-to-be might also be a gamer, and they'll be good friends. Who doesn't like Mario and his sidekick? Apparently Cindy doesn't. Her personality was basically the opposite of Elizabeth's. As she rescued the princess, she decided that she should peel her eyes away from the TV and look at the clock. It was almost 11 at night, and she felt drowsiness overwhelm her all of a sudden, but she still had an itch to scratch before she can sleep, however. Elizabeth turned off the gaming equipment, and sat back in her red, velvety armchair. She saw her reflection on the dark, convex TV screen, which slightly enlarged her facial details. Although she would look at herself everyday, in the mirror, or passing by a glass pane in the mall, she doesn't know what she looks like. How she appeared to the opposite sex. She knew that her parents would tell her she's 'beautiful' and 'pretty' even if her face was horribly deformed by acid. Her friends? They gave her some compliments now and then, after all she was the only girl in their circle of gamers. Her shoulder-length dark-brown hair certainly got their attention whenever she flicked her head, sending waves of hair twirling and flying around. She never thought about her friends sexually, although Tony was a good looking guy, but he played for the other team. Didn't stop Elizabeth from fantasizing about him a few times. Tonight she decided to pick Tony over Billy Idol. Both were unobtainable, unreachable, but at least she's met one of them in person. Her blue jeans slid off, revealing her white, slender legs, complimented by skin smooth and soft to the touch. They could hypnotise a man into doing whatever she desired, that is, if anyone ever saw past those jeans she wore daily. Her hand slid down, gliding over her breasts, over her stomach, landing above her pink panties. Her wetness already seeped through the thin fabric, the panties now just an obstacle on the road to heaven. Just then, a voice startled Elizabeth. 'Having fun out here?' Cindy came out of her room to grab a piece of cold pizza, but she wasn't all that hungry. She knew that Elizabeth would be out here, this time of the night. 'Oh my God, Cindy! It's like, the fifth time this week! Will you go back to sleep or... whatever?' Elizabeth complained half angrily, half embarrassingly, while Cindy took a sip from the tap. 'Well, Lizzy, at least I didn't steal my roommate's concert tickets! And sold them!' Cindy retorted, still a bit angry about the events from last week. She was having fun with her plan of revenge, though. 'Whatever, have fun fantasizing about your fat friends. And wash the cucumbers if you're using them!' Cindy bid farewell as she went back into her room, her eyes scanning over Elizabeth's attempt to hide her body. Elizabeth flipped her off after the door closed. Alone again, Elizabeth relaxed. She pulled her panties aside, revealing an aroused sexual organ; wet, puffed, waiting for her touch. She thought about Tony, about his fine-toned abdomen, his handsome jaw... Oh, to what lengths she would go to if she could somehow convince him to switch teams. She's almost dripping, thanks to him. Her finger entered her crevice, but it wasn't satisfying enough. Another two fingers entered, one after another, and they fit snugly, drawing a sigh from Elizabeth. She pulled her fingers out, and slammed them back inside, her canal and fingers now slick with her arousal. Her other hand went up to pull her shirt up, then pulling down her bra in a hurry; revealing her breasts, her areolas and her taut nipples, now standing to attention. Her areolas and nipples were light shades of pink, her fingers pinching and rubbing her nipples in rhythm of her fingers fucking. Her mind played tricks on her. She pictured her own fingers as a cock impaling her waiting hole. She closed her eyes, imagining a man on top of her right now, making her a part of the armchair. She gasped as the imaginary man found her clit. Her hips ground against her hand, begging the fingers to sink to the bottom. With every stroke, her breathing became shallower, shorter, her fingers penetrated her quicker, harder, lit with the flames of lust. Her nipple being pinched stronger, tighter, ferociously. Her body wanted to end this now, and receive the pleasure it'd longed for, but her mind told her to hold out, prolonging her experience. Her body won out. Her mind tried to stop the runaway train; her body betraying her every command to stop. Her body was in control, her thumb now pressed on her sensitive button; her clit; rubbing it in circles. Ecstasy. The feeling, the drug, it doesn't matter. She was feeling it coursing through her veins. Her body working overtime, still not able to keep up with her mind's demands. The pleasure building... building... ah, to hell with this. She let it go. She thought she heard an audible explosion as her orgasm exploded. But then she wasn't sure what she heard, her world was spinning right now, her ears deafened by the blood rushing past. Her body squirmed as shockwaves of pleasure coursed through her, only physically constrained by the sides of her armchair. Her eyes closed, as she let out a scream, one that would warrant noise complaints if it wasn't for the lack of neighbours around her. Cindy, on the other hand, was enjoying the nightly concert, the noise show of Elizabeth's moans. Her eyes half open, her breath slowing down in the tired, post-orgasmic haze, she looked at the blacked out TV monitor again. It was reflecting a shooting star from outside her window. 'I wish I had a boyfriend.' She turned to her window and wished almost inaudibly. The shooting star disappeared, probably burnt up in the atmosphere or landed on someone's field, she presumed. Her eyes weary, she fell asleep in the comfort of the armchair. - 11:00PM, 24th October, 2015 Camaro IROC-Z. Not everyone's idea of a time machine. But that was the genius. Nobody will suspect a 30-year old sports car to be an actual time machine. 'You know what? I think I'm beginning to regret this!' Strapped into the seat of the Camaro, Bill shouted into his earpiece, his actual voice drowned out by six droning jet engines. The cargo bay being open didn't help either. Beyond the cargo ramp was the infinite night sky, open for possibilities. 'Too late to back out now, buddy!' Bill's best friend, Tim, chuckled a little, although Bill's fear could be heard in his voice. Bill didn't usually call his mate by his last name, unless the issue was dead serious. 'Look, man! There's this apartment my dad owned! Now, he was supposed to move in tomorrow, 30 years ago, but then supposedly he saw my mother and decided to move in with her! Crazy how things work, eh? Their story was the def-i-ni-tion of weird, but I came along somehow!' Tim's voice softened. 'It's a shame, lung cancer took him away when I was 3. Never knew the man well. Mom never took any pictures of him. I don't think she wants to remember either.' He pumped himself up, trying to sound enthusiastic. 'Just don't waste all the time you have left over there, gaming away and shit! Life is precious! And it's the 80s, all you need are the house keys!' Bill remembered the keys Tim gave him earlier, now safely tucked within his pockets. 'Don't worry, I won't try to change history too much! Well, I might be one of the world's wealthiest men by 2015...' Bill whispered it like a secret, but knew full well that Tim could hear him. However, they both knew that wouldn't happen, as it betrayed their moral stances. Tim laughed, and the conversation died off for a few minutes while the autopilot took them closer to their destination. 'Bill, you're only what, twenty?' Tim cracked the ice in the air. 'Twenty-four!' He corrected his friend. 'Twenty-four, fifteen, whatever! Why did you pick a time when you weren't even born yet?' Tim shouted. 'Don't tell me you've got a thing for my mother!' 'Oh, like you're not just a year older than me? You're just twenty-five! I'm gonna fucking die anyways, might as well take you with me!'' Bill flipped Tim off from within the car. A small light lit up near Tim, indicating that the plane has entered the drop zone. 'Good luck way back when. Seriously.' Tim laughed again, and added his final words to Bill. He waved to Bill, and pushed the red button labelled 'Release'. Bill waved back, bracing for the fall. Bill went over the procedures in his head again. He would activate the rocket boosters as soon as the nose of the car pointed straight down towards Earth, hoping that the car wouldn't disintegrate from the vibrations, even with the most advanced tech installed. The public did not know a thing about the futuristic gadgets their government develops. The boosters will detach after 30 seconds, leaving the Camaro travelling at a little over 700 mph. Just a little. At that speed, the mechanisms onboard Bill's Camaro will activate, sending him through time. The 'when' is controlled precisely through the speed the car was travelling and, well, a plastic dial on the dashboard. With a little adjustment, the machine could travel as far as 500BC, but Bill was intending to take it slow the first time. If the he wasn't dead by then, he would have to deploy the parachute to avoid crashing into the ground at full speed. What's the point of time travelling if you're going to die anyways? Life was short, and Bill wanted the most out of it. A buzzer sounded, bringing Bill back to the situation at hand. The Camaro, with a ridiculously disproportionate rocket booster strapped on top of it, rolled forwards out of the plane's cargo bay into the night sky, beginning its long journey to Earth, and hopefully to 1985. He looked at the ground, some 10 miles away from his eyes. He flipped a switch on the dash. A red light illuminated the interior of the car along with a long beep, as the rockets roared to life. The acceleration took Bill by surprise, pinning him to his seat. His speed indicator flicked past 88 knots in the matter of seconds. The plane grew smaller in his vibrating rear view mirror as he glanced at it. This was real. This was happening. Bill had a small moment of panic as realised his situation, but swallowed it down. He was making history. As per scheduled, the rockets detached themselves after 30 seconds. Without the rocket's thundering roar, he could hear the wind howling outside his window, air rushing past at nearly the speed of sound. The only thing that shielded Bill from the wind was the military-grade composite glass, which, in its testing phases, has won against cars smashing into it. Flames danced outside his windows, as if the devil himself came out to play. Sparks rushed from the sides to the front of the car, apparently building up to a grand finale. Bill closed his eyes, crossed his fingers, and prayed to whoever was listening. The Camaro shook violently, as Bill braced for certain death if any piece, even just one piece of the puzzle fell apart. With a soundless flash, the Camaro disappeared from the night sky. Tim returned to the cockpit after he saw the flash, and flew off into the night sky. - 11:00PM, 24th October, XXXX Bill opened his eyes. He was alive, at least. He could make out the details of some buildings on the ground now, and fortunately none are in his landing zone. Swiftly flipping the switch on the right of the previous one, the red and white parachute deployed. It inflated as it caught air. With a jolt, the Camaro slowed to a safe speed, righting its orientation in the process, as to not land on its roof. After a few minutes, the altimeter, replacing the tachometer on the Camaro, counted down the distance to the ground. 100... 50... 10... With a soft thud, the Camaro gently landed on its wheels. Bill got out, only to realise that the parachute still hadn't come down yet. He looked up, just as the a translucent red and white object, blocking out most of the moonlight, draped over him. 'God-fu-' He ended that with an annoyed growl. He reached for his iPhone, turned the flashlight on, pulled out his Swiss Army Knife and got working on the parachute. It was nearly pitch black except for the faint moonlight and a few lights not too far off in the distance, presumably from open windows of someone's home. An hour later, Bill and his Camaro were untangled from the mess, the parachute now flying off to bother someone else, some place else. Now that he's at least intact in one piece, he wanted to know whether he made it back to 1985 or not. He got back in the car, turned the key in the ignition, and the V8 came to life, chugging at idle. He turned the headlights on, only to find it illuminating... nothing. Well, a grass field could be considered as nothing. 'Weird.' Bill thought to himself. He gently tapped the accelerator, the engine purred a little, but no movement. He pressed on the pedal harder, the engine now humming an enjoyable tone, but still, he wasn't moving. He checked his gears. Park... Reverse... Neutral... Drive. He was in Drive, yet he's not driving. Again, he pulled his iPhone out for lighting, and got out of the car to investigate the problem. The light shone on his left rear wheel, now sitting snugly in a hole it'd just dug itself. The extra equipment weighed the Camaro down more than Bill expected, and now he was stuck in some sand. 'What the hell? Sand?' He thought aloud, not likely to be heard by anyone in the night. Seeing as there's no conceivable way to spring the Camaro free, at least none conceivable in the pitch-black night, he decided to take his suitcase and leave the car until the next morning, then he could get a better bearing as to where, or when, he is. Of course, he didn't forget to lock his car. 'Damn it.' Bill swore as he felt concrete beneath his feet just a few steps away. A few feet more in that direction, and he wouldn't have to deal with all this. He pulled out the map application on his phone, and surprisingly there were GPS signals all around. He entered the address that Tim gave him earlier. The streets of Downtown shouldn't have changed much, no matter what year he was in, Bill thought. The city had been dull as always. '80th North Street... Apartment 3.' - 7:00AM, 25th October, 1985 Elizabeth woke up to the sound of an object banging on metal bars, presumably the handrail leading up to the first floor. She remembered back when she first moved in, the small staircase wasn't really made for boxes and suitcases, and they would be caught on the railings. This must be her new neighbour, Elizabeth thought. She felt a chill, and realised that she was still mostly naked from last night. It was raining outside, which contributed to the cool temperature she felt. Cindy already left for work, and probably won't be back until her restaurant closes for the night. There was a note lying on her stomach. 'Remember to put some clothes on XOXO' Oh yeah, Cindy's relationships were with other women. She was nice enough to not disturb Elizabeth too much, though. She did feel a taste of pizza on her lips. A few minutes later, her jeans were hanging back on her hips, her bra was doing its job again, and she threw on a new sweater. 'Whoever this new guy is, he better not be a tried serial killer or something.' Elizabeth thought to herself as she headed out her apartment, ready to make a new friend or foe. Bill was still fumbling with the keys, trying to figure out which key fit where, while trying to hold an umbrella to shield the rain, when the door on his right opened. 'Wait... Is it that apartment?' Bill thought to himself, Tim might have gotten some details mixed up. Out came a pretty face in neat jeans, her hair complimented by color that he couldn't quite decipher yet. 'Ah, good m-' 'Hell-' They both stopped for a second, both too polite to speak over each other. They both broke out laughing almost at the same moment, defusing the awkward situation. 'Sorry, sorry! My name is Elizabeth.' She said, laughing. 'I assume you're ah, William Rorke?' Hunter of Time 'Yeah, that's right... Name's Bill.' His brows scrunched a little, but maintained a little smile. He leaned on his extended suitcase handle, his hand rubbing his chin in a mock investigative pose. 'It says on this note my landlord gave me,' Elizabeth handed him the handwritten note from yesterday. 'if you wanted to know how I got that information.' She smiled. Bill fumbled the note as she released it. Smooth. He read the note, wondering what the hell Tim did to send his name through time. The note was dated 24th October, 1985, which mostly confirmed his whenabouts. He'd made it, and cracked a smile. A smile of joy and gratitude. Elizabeth wondered what was funny about the note. 'Well, nice to meet you, Elizabeth, but I'm starving right now. I might head out for breakfast.' Bill pointed to his suitcase. 'I have to unpack first though. Hey, you know any good brekkie places round here?' Elizabeth was deep in thoughts about Bill, still staring dreamily at the handsome man standing before her, his face conveniently located at her eye level. Bill coughed loudly a couple of times. 'Oh! Ha, I thought you were talking to someone- nevermind.' Elizabeth's brain got into gear, at last. 'Brekkie? Like breakfast?' He nodded. 'Well I guess I'll whip up some bad breakfast and let you drool over it, neighbour.' Elizabeth said almost lucratively, her finger dragging down from her bottom lip. Bill almost didn't catch that invitation. 'Bad breakfast?' He remembered the time period he was in. Different time, slightly different culture. 'Oh, right. I'll be over in a jiffy, but for now I'm just gonna go in and take a shower.' He said, now unlocking his door. Bill trekked for God knows how long in the night, his clothes were smelling of himself, the umbrella did very little to protect him from the thunderstorm last night. Elizabeth's eyes followed him like a sunflower in heat until he disappeared into his apartment. A man over for breakfast. Elizabeth haven't had anyone over for breakfast before. She usually ate at the diner where Cindy worked, just a few minutes away. This new neighbour, although still a stranger, she already trusted. At least he didn't look like a tried murderer, or something. She stepped back from her doorway, closed the door, and got started on the cooking. Bill jumped out of his attire; a blazer, shirt and long jeans. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible, just the sight of her body could fill his hunger. Her now-evident dark-brown hair, her irises dyed green, resembling a big, beautiful pearl... Bill had never seen eyes like that before, eyes that drew you in, to be mesmerized by them. He hopped into the shower, and washed off whatever grime and sweat was on him. After he was done, he went into the living room, which served as a dining room as well. The walls were decorated with cream-coloured wallpaper with vertical white stripes, the ceiling painted white. There was only an armchair, which faced a TV cabinet, but without a TV. Luckily, within Bill's suitcase was an LCD TV, which only just fit into the suitcase. He also brought along some modern appliances which he could not live without. He placed them out of sight, into the cabinets, into the cupboards, in case anyone came in and saw futuristic electronic gadgets that won't be invented for another 30 years. Bill swapped the blazer for what he thought would be the 80s fashion; a bomber jacket. Everything else seemed fashionable enough for the time period, as he exited his apartment, and knocked on Elizabeth's door, practically reachable from within his own apartment if he wanted. His nose detected some toast within her apartment, the smell seeping out under the door. The smell of burnt bread never escapes somebody. 'Come in!' Elizabeth shouted happily. 'The door is unlocked. Just this once only, though!' The door opened, as Bill walked through the doorway, his mental needs satisfied with the sight of her. She apparently slipped into a miniskirt in the time he was gone. But his body needed a fill of physical breakfast. 'So, Elizabeth, are we having some toast today? That would be... mega... rad.' Bill said awkwardly, trying to use some 80s lingo. He wasn't doing a very good job at it. Even though it's the same language, it might as well be a new one. He decided that he would just speak normally, however different he'll sound. 'Oh, yeah, about that...' Elizabeth said, still facing the stove, her back facing Bill. Not that he had a problem with the sight of it, her long legs no longer hidden by her jeans. 'It's not toast.' She said apologetically, turning to face Bill. She turned off the stove, now holding up a frying pan in the air, the contents still sizzling away in the residue heat. 'Hey, I don't mind.' - 'How do you screw up pancakes?' Bill thought silently as he ate the pancake, oddly only burnt on one side, the other side almost perfect.. He could care less right now, if there was a rat in the kitchen he would've jumped for it. Elizabeth wasn't a bad cook by any means, her parents taught her to fend for herself when she was just 13. While the pancakes were frying, she left to change into her miniskirt, keen to show off her long, white legs. She got a bit... carried away when she took off her jeans. They sat at the small dining table, facing each other. The plates took up most of the room, as the table was only designed for one person. Normally Elizabeth sat facing the television as she ate with Cindy, but today she has something more interesting to look at. 'So, Will...' Elizabeth said as she swallowed a crispy bite. 'Willy' seemed like an appropriate nickname, but she didn't tease him about it. 'Can I call you that? Will? Isn't that basically the same?' 'I still prefer Bill, but yes, Will is also fine.' He nodded. 'Okay, Will, where are you from? You don't seem like you're from around here. You speak kind of... weird.' 'Oh, you've noticed that, have you?' Bill hung his head in shame, taking another bite in the process. 'Well, Elizabeth, I was born here, in Downtown.' 'I've figured as much, nobody from out of town knows of this place.' Little does she know that 30 years later, this complex would be replaced by the largest skyscraper in town, housing companies making millions in stocks every day. 'I guess you could say that I left town for a very, very, long time. But I just flew in yesterday. I had to walk from where I landed, though.' Bill said innocently. 'Whoa, the airport is like miles away!' Elizabeth gasped. 'You poor thing, you walked the whole night?' 'I know, right? I had a car, too.' Bill said, now remembering the Camaro. 'Dude, where's my car?' 'Oh, you have a car! Can I ride shotgun?' 'Sure, sure, the back seats are missing anyways.' Bill replied nonchalantly. He was serious, though, the equipment took up all the room in the back of the car. 'Let's go get your car!' Her voice raised in excitement. 'Now?' Bill was still trying to chew through the crispy surface without breaking his teeth. 'Well I doubt you'd want to eat this.' She said, indicating at the pancakes. 'You read my mind.' Bill stood up, taking his plate. He was still hungry, but maybe the trip would take his mind off things. Shit. The trip. 'Elizabeth, you said it before, I walked the whole night. I also doubt that you want to walk 8 hours with me, just to get my car.' 'No worries!' She chirped. Bill's brows drew close together in confusion. 'I've got a Mustang just downstairs. Didn't you see it when you walked through the parking lot?' 'You had me at "Mustang".' - 'Woman, that is a god-damned blasphemy.' This time Bill said it out loud. 'Chill, Will.' She giggled at the rhyming. 'And that is a good car.' 'No, the hell she isn't!' Bill stared at the brown, near beige Ford Mustang II. This car is designed to save gas, not to go like the clappers. He can turn a blind eye to the horrific engines, but he absolutely cannot ignore the styling. Elizabeth ignored him, and hurried over to the car in the rain. Bill reluctantly followed, Elizabeth's long legs being the only incentive. 'It's a convertible!' She was excited to show off her car. shouting as she was running to the car. 'Looks like we won't be needing it today!' Bill shouted, referring to the weather. He was glad too, he wouldn't want to be seen in that mess of a car in public. They got into the car, only slightly wet from the rain. Elizabeth turned the key, the engine whining to life. 'Great!' Bill said sarcastically. 'She's a 4 cylinder, isn't she?' Elizabeth nodded, smiling at Bill's grumpy attitude to this car. She rolled forwards a few feet before stopping. 'Will, you do know the way, right?' 'Yeah, yeah, hold on.' Bill reached for his jeans' pocket. An inner voice reminded him that no smartphones have been invented yet. 'Wait, no, shit.' He said defeatedly. 'What's the deal?' Elizabeth looked over at Bill. Bill quickly came up with a solution. 'Do you mind if I sit in the back?' 'Uh, yeah, no, go ahead. I'm not that scary, I'm sure.' She half-joked. Bill got out, leaned his seat forward, and got into the back. It was cramped, but at least she couldn't see what he was doing if he sat directly behind her. 'No, no! It's not that, I just... remember the roads better... in the dark.' He made up a poor excuse as he clambered into the back. 'Now, let's go.' Elizabeth drove out of the parking lot, and asked Bill for the directions. The circle on Bill's screen stopped spinning, as it finally triangulated Bill's position, and gave out the instructions. 'In 300 yards, turn lef-' A feminine but robotic voice spoke up. Bill immediately flipped the mute switch, but Elizabeth heard the voice. 'Don't tell me you're harbouring a woman back there.' 'Oh, no, that was just me trying to be a woman.' Bill said nonchalantly, trying to pass it off. 'Totally.' She rolled her eyes. She knew he was lying, but before she could give it any thought Bill instructed her to take another left. - Half an hour later, with Bill reading the instructions, Elizabeth neared a park with a group of people gathering about. Bill couldn't see much in the dark last night, and this all seemed foreign to him. 'Stop, right here, this is it.' The app showed this location as the starting point of last night's journey, but he couldn't see anything from within the car. He could only see large, flat grassfields. The Mustang ground to a halt, as both of them exited the car. It'd stopped raining as they drove, eliminating the need for an umbrella. Elizabeth looked at Bill, dressed nicely in a brown bomber jacket. 'What's that bulge there?' Elizabeth pointed at his jeans. Bill's head snapped downwards, afraid that his arousal might be showing up. Thankfully, the only bulge she saw was from the jeans' pockets. 'That, Elizabeth, is my...' Bill couldn't think of anything from the 80s that was the shape of an iPhone. 'Oh, I know!' Elizabeth figured out what it was. 'It's a Walkman, isn't it?' Bill nodded, playing along. 'Yours actually fit in your pocket, lucky you. Mine only fits in like, a pouch. Can I get one of those from Walmart?' 'Yeah, yeah, in about 30 years.' 'Pfft, I'm sure. And by then we would have mobile phones about that size, or a cassette player that size...' She rambled on about the future, Bill couldn't help but chuckle at how accurate she'd came to actual gadgets of 2015. As she spoke, hands waving up above her head, exaggerating her thoughts on the future, Bill took the time to look around. He remembered only walking a few feet at max, but there doesn't appear to be any sandy areas immediately next to the road, there are only a few large grassfields about. His vision honed in on a crowd formed by the previous groups of people they saw. 'Elizabeth! This way!' He gestured towards the crowd, surrounding something. Where there's congregations, there's always... something, Bill guessed. They walked over to the crowd, as people parted with a gentle push, letting Bill and Elizabeth pass. Bill heard the sounds of a couple of women arguing, the words becoming more audible as he got closer. The ground gradually turned into sand as they weaved through the crowd. 'How do we start the match with this car just sitting here?' Someone said. 'Shit.' Bill cursed quietly. Match... Sand... Women... Women's beach volleyball. On a very limited beach with artificial sand. And he'd landed right in the court last night, the Camaro now obstructing their matches. 'Some drunk asshole prob- Hey you!' One of the women called out to the new face, now bursting through the wall of people. 'You know who owns this car?' 'I do, and I can tell you that he isn't a drunk asshole.' Bill pointed to himself. Elizabeth now joined Bill, having squeezed through the crowd. Her eyes darted to get a better view of the volleyball court. 'Will, why are we spectating a volleyball match? If you're trying to hint something at me, no, I'm never playing volleyball. Like, never. And why is there a car in the court?' 'Because, Elizabeth, that is my car.' 'Oh.' 'Now, back your car up so that it's just on the edge of the concrete.' Elizabeth went back to her car, and slowly reversed to the volleyball court, as Bill hooked an emergency tow cable into the front of his Camaro, the other end tied to Elizabeth's car. The pony pulled the stricken Camaro out of the sand, back onto the concrete road. The V8 roared to life with a turn of key. Elizabeth gasped, her body tingled, the noise vibrating her inner parts. She didn't know a car turning on could do the same to her body. And it made her leak certain fluids. 'She's a beauty.' Bill said with a drawl. 'Let's go home now, you can follow me if you don't know the way.' He quietly turned on his phone in his pocket. By dinnertime, as they said their goodbyes and went off into their own apartments, Bill thought about Elizabeth. She was pretty, nice, there's no denying. Boning her, getting in her pants, that also be pretty nice too, but Bill didn't feel the need to. He was happy from just being around her, as if she radiated happiness and... love. Maybe it was love. ***** The end, for now. I can't promise how often I'll work on another chapter, but it will come eventually. I wrote a bit skipping straight to December, but I felt the need to work on the relationship between the two mains.