Author: Bulgroz the Third
Title: The Adjusters #6 - The Second Card
Keywords: MF, FF, mc
Posted: June 1, 2010
Edited: March 24, 2011




			   The Adjusters #6


			   The Second Card


Daniel and Serena sneaked into the apartment building at 102 College
Drive by stalking out the door and waiting for someone to whom Daniel
could mumble something about having lost a key. A pretty girl was nice
enough to hold the door open for him. Serena joined him once the girl
was gone, and in they went.

"Did you really need me to do that? You could have pulled that off
easily."

Serena shrugged. "One, I'm black, so that already makes people
suspicious. Two, people tend to notice and remember me, and right now
we should probably be low key."

"Are you gently trying to tell me I'm unremarkable?"

"I'm trying to tell you that you are a white man of average height,
good looking without being A-list material, in the middle of New
England."

Daniel grunted.

"Don't worry," said Serena, patting him on the shoulder. "Girls still
find you attractive. No need to look dejected."

"I have no desire to attract anyone. Between you and Jenn, I have my
hands full, thank you." Daniel hesitated as Serena looked around
trying to find her way. "Huh, Serena, about what happened last
Thursday, while we were watching Kittens' Den...."

The image was still fresh in Daniel's mind, Serena with her long legs
spread wide fingering herself while Jenn rode him in silence because
she thought everyone else asleep. That afterwards Serena had hinted at
Jenn that she had seen them and that Jenn had then brought Daniel back
to their bedroom and fucked him again after forcing him to spill out
everything that had happened -- all the while suggesting naughtily in
his ear as he pounded into her that it was too bad that she had not
noticed Serena playing with herself like that or she would have gone
over and helped the black girl out with her own fingers or her tongue
-- had really been the Maraschino cherry on that particularly sweet
sunday.

Serena looked at Daniel, a smile on her lips. "Don't read into it too
much. You're always doing that, seeking meaning and significance where
there isn't any. I was horny, and you and Jenn were getting it on, and
you two are beautiful together. So I just did what came naturally. No
ulterior motives, hidden desires, or expectations --"

"It was just sex," Daniel completed for her.

"Exactly. Just sex. A good toss off, as they say. You seemed to enjoy
it, so just take it for what it was. And don't go falling for me."

"How could I ever fall for a foul-mouthed gutter-minded cliche of a
black slut?"

"That's the spirit!" She laughed. Daniel shook his head, reached over
and kissed Serena on the cheek.

"You're still wonderful," he said.

"Oh shush. Besides, we're here. Apartment three."

"Remind me why I'm here again?"

"Same deal as when we visited Jeremy, Marjorie's ex. You're
protection."

"Some protection. So this is the guy that Jeremy said Marjorie had
come to visit back in September, which precipitated their breaking up
and stuff? You find out anything about him?"

"Enough." She knocked, pulling out a small box from her purse, and
motioned for Daniel to hug the wall. The door to apartment three
opened, stopped by a security chain, and a thin, reedy voice came
out. "Yes?"

"Mister Lake?" Serena had a huge smile on her face, and her voice had
take the kind of lilts that reminded Daniel of Cindy when she chose to
emphasize her ditziness. "There's this UPS package that was delivered
to my apartment by mistake and it's really for you and I just didn't
want to leave it on the floor in the hall..."

"Oh," said the man she called Lake. "Hold on."

He closed the door, slid the lock chain, and opened the door
again. Before it had opened fully, Serena had pushed it in, along with
Lake, and entered the darkened apartment. Daniel, taken completely by
surprise, hesitated for a second, looked around to see if anyone saw
anything, then entered the apartment in turn. He closed the door
behind him.

Serena was standing over a thin young man with a wispy beard who must
have been no older than twenty, sprawled on the floor. Serena glanced
meaningfully at Daniel. Lake looked at him fearfully, and Daniel
understood his role. He squared his shoulders, crossed his arms,
leaned back against the wall, and simply stared at Lake, an expression
he hoped unreadable on his face.

"Mister Lake. My name is Serena Banks. I have a few questions for
you. We'll be happy to leave after we get some answers, and you should
never hear from us again."

Lake looked at her suspiciously, pulling himself up on his
elbows. "Why would I answer your questions, you bitch? Get out of here
before I call the cops. I have rights."

Serena grinned. "Go ahead," she said. "I'm positive they will enjoy
hearing about your activities at the West 3 dorm last week. What was
it? Meth? Roofies? I forget. I'll have to go check the pictures."

Lake frowned. "I don't know what you're --"

"Save it, Lake. Here's how I see things. I don't care about your drug
deals. I want to know about Marjorie Duquesne. Answer a few questions,
and we disappear and nobody has to know about your little side
business. Be difficult, and what I have goes to the cops, and you're
sent away for a long time."

"You're bluffing. You got nothing."

"Try me."

A staring contest ensued. Daniel, detached observer, appreciated the
tension in the air. Lake did not look like the kind of guy that would
pop a pistol out of his pants, but you never knew what people would do
in dire circumstances when cornered. He just hoped there was no one
else in the apartment, ready to jump out of a door and blast them full
of holes. Protection, Serena had said. And he was supposed to stop
those bullets how, exactly?

Lake finally dropped his eyes and sighed. He looked at Serena, still
suspicious. "Fine," he said, sounding tired. "Fine. It'll be a short
conversation anyways. Never heard of this Marjorie girl." He went to
his sofa, cleared away some of the mess of clothes and video-gaming
props, and plopped himself down with a grunt.

"I think you do. Little oriental girl, witnesses say that she came to
your apartment mid-September. You answered the door and let her
in. You two seemed friendly."

Lake's eyes widened when he digested what Serena had said. "Who the
fuck are you, and why are you asking me this?"

"Let's just say that we're trying to find Marjorie, and we believe
that you have information that can help us do so. As I said, I don't
care about you one way or another, Lake. All I want to know is what
you can tell me about Marjorie."

"MD," Lake said, almost as a whisper.

"Pardon me?"

"I said, MD. That's the name she used. I didn't know she was called
Marjorie."

"So you remember her?"

"Of course," he laughed. "How could I forget? That girl had moves you
wouldn't believe." He shook his head.

Serena sat down on a corner of the coffee table in front of
Lake. "Tell me everything. How did you know MD, and what happened that
night?"

Lake looked at her without saying a word. Serena sighed. "Are we going
to have to do this all night? Where I threaten to go to the cops and
tell them everything? I don't care either way, Lake. The cops are also
looking for Marjorie, and they may be very interested in knowing you
had some business with her. That might just make you a person of
interest in their investigation, no? I'd rather you talk to me,
frankly, because then I'll know what I need to know faster, but either
way I'll know eventually."

Lake grunted. "This stays between us, okay? I tell you what I know,
then you go."

"Like wisps of smoke in the wind." She blew for effect.

"Okay, okay. I didn't know MD before she showed up. She was... how
shall I put it... offered to me. For services rendered."

"Care to provide details?"

"This guy calls me, beginning of the semester, telling me he needs a
supply of a certain product to ensure that the fine folks at this
party have a good time, and that his usual contacts were out, and he'd
heard about me, and that I had a reputation for being reliable. We
discussed a few details, and he basically placed an order."

"Stop being coy, Lake. You're already in trouble, so just tell me what
he asked for, and who that guy was." Serena had taken out a notepad
and was scribbling away.

Lake sighed, shook his head, and leaned back into the couch, head
resting against the wall. "He ordered a few boxes of Ecstasy, okay? He
said it was for this big party, I don't know who he was and I didn't
really ask. You don't survive long in my business if you're too
curious. In case nosy fucks like you came sniffing around, in fact."

"Did he give a name? How did you contact him?"

"He told me to call him Snowman. And I didn't contact him, he
contacted me. I never had a number. We'd set up a time and I'd wait
for his call."

"Sounds like a bad way to do business. Why did you trust the guy,
Lake?"

"I didn't. I was really nervous about this. I like to be in charge,
but this guy would have none of it. I said I couldn't deal under those
conditions unless I had a deposit. When I told him that on the phone,
he said he would talk to the people involved and ask them about it."

"Who were those people?"

"No idea. He called me back the next day, told me that they agreed on
a deposit. He told me to be in the following day and the money would
be delivered, and then we could do business." He stopped, and went
silent, his eyes closed.

"And?" prompted Serena.

Lake took a deep breath. "The next day, after dinner time, there's a
knock on my door. It's this girl, says she's been sent by
you-know-who. She looks utterly inoffensive, a pretty little brunette
with Asian features, wearing a long raincoat. I think this looks like
a bad fucking movie. She hands me an envelope. It's full of cash.

"As I'm counting, she adds in perfectly calm tone of voice that that
there's less than agreed upon in the envelope, but she's here to make
up the difference. I look at her not knowing what she's talking about.
She asks me to let her in. I hesitate, and refuse. She asks me to step
out. Now, this is really stupid, but I open the door. Something in her
eyes. I'm usually pretty paranoid -- kind of a job requirement -- but
I guess I saw something that convinced me she was not a threat.

"She takes a step towards me, gets up on her tiptoes and kisses me on
the lips. I jerk my head back. I'm astonished, you know, didn't expect
that. But she grabs the back of my head and pulls me back and kisses
me harder and it's all tongue and lips, and she's all over me, hand in
the back of my head, hand on my back, my ass, my chest. She's glued to
me, standing on one leg while the other is almost around my waist, and
she's rubbing herself up and down with those perfect little movements
of the hips. And she smells good, and tastes good too. And she feels
good. Then she looks at me. 'Can I come in now?' I'm shocked still,
but I let her in.

"Once inside, she unties the belt of her raincoat, and with the most
imperceptible of movements she lets it drop to the ground. I just
stare at her. I told you it was like a fucking movie, right? Well,
she's dressed just like those chicks in movies that go to people's
place and strip for them and stuff, singing telegrams or shit. That
little girl is wearing a black bra and garter belt and stockings and
the works, like she's out of a fucking Victoria's Secret
catalog. Curves, curves in all the right places. And those boots, too,
that went up to her knees. And she poses, right there, in front of me,
right in the middle of the room, half naked, one leg in front of the
other, hands on her hips, tits out.

"I'm like, whoa, what's that? And she says, 'I'm your bonus,
Freddie. For your trouble. For insurance. You get to use me however
you like, the whole night. I'm very good, Freddie.' She's looking at
me as she says that, and she looks hot. Like she does want to jump me,
right then and there. You when something's too good to be true? Well I
had that feeling up the wazoo then. 'What's the catch?' I ask. 'No
catch,' she answers in a quiet voice. 'I'm here to make sure you feel
that you're treated well, Freddie. What would you like to do to me?' I
look at the cash in my hand, at the body of the girl before me, my
mind goes nuts. I'm losing about a thousand bucks on this deal, and I
can't imagine she's worth that. I mean, she's cute and all, and her
body certainly is fucking fantastic, but... Listen, you sure you want
to hear this? I mean, to cut the story short..."

"I need details, Lake. All of it's important. Don't worry about me, I
can take what your dishing."

Lake shrugged. "Suit yourself." He leaned back in his sofa, ran his
hand through his hair, closed his eyes. "So that girl is there, in
front of me, like a model, and she's waiting for me to say
something. So I ask, 'What's your name?' -- 'You can call me MD.' --
'Like a doctor?' -- 'If it's a doctor you'd like.' I clear my
throat. 'So, huh, that's a big question, what I would like to do to
you...' I didn't know what the rules of the game were. Last thing I
needed was this girl's pimp crashing through the door and fucking me
up because I did something wrong. 'What can I do?' She looks at
me. 'Anything you want. You can have my mouth, you can have tits, my
pussy, my ass. It's all yours, for tonight, for as long as you can get
it up. I can be good, I can be bad, I can be nice, I can be naughty. I
can be whatever you want, Freddie. For tonight, you get to live
whatever sick fantasy you have. You want to invite some friends over,
and have a real good time? I'm your slut tonight, Freddie.' She says
all of this without batting an eyelash, a little smile on her face.

"I don't know what to do, you understand. That sort of thing just
doesn't happen to me, you know. 'Look, this is just too good to be
true.' -- 'I understand. And expected as much. Here,' and she crouches
down and retrieves a small cell phone from the pocket of her raincoat
pooled at her feet. She presses a few buttons, makes sure it's
ringing, then hands it to me. I pick it up, just when the call
connects. MD nods towards the phone. 'Go ahead,' she says.

"'Hello?' I say. 'Mister Lake? I thought you might call. I take it MD
made it safe and sound?' It's Snowman. He doesn't sound
surprised. 'Yeah,' I answer, 'she's here. And she has an odd story to
tell. You wouldn't know anything about it, would you?' He laughs, and
I get that feeling that there's absolutely no humor in it, that it's
all a big act. 'I talked to my people, Mister Lake, and they okay'd MD
here as the extra on the deposit you asked for. She can tell you
better than I can what she can do for you. All I can add at this point
is to have fun.' The connection drops. I hand the phone back to MD. I
still don't know what to say. She's standing there, still posing,
looking at me, smiling. 'So you're really here to offer yourself to
me? I can do anything I want?' She nods. 'Anything at all. Except
permanent damage. Otherwise, you'll find me a pliable and obedient
companion. So I ask again, Freddie, what do you want?'

"At this point, I go: what the fuck, she's here and she doesn't seem
too put out by what she's here to do, so I might as well enjoy it,
right? Right? I mean, she's beautiful, she's sexy, and the way she
keeps on saying that she'll do anything, that I can ask her anything I
want and she'll do it, well, it's a big turn on, you know. Isn't that
every guy's fantasy, to have a girl do anything he wants?"

Lake looked at Daniel when he said that, as if seeking confirmation
from the other male in the room. Daniel, still acting as the enforcer,
tried to keep his face inexpressive. He returned Lake's look. Lake
turned from his gaze after a few seconds, never looking at Serena.

"Yeah, well, fuck, she was there, and I was being shafted a thousand
at least on that deposit, and there was risk, you know. So I tell her,
'I wanna fuck you.' MD just nods, small smile still on her face. 'Of
course. How and where?' Fuck, worse than the inquisition. 'Quit asking
questions.' She drops her eyes, goes 'Yes, sir.' It's weird, one
moment she's smiling and sexy, the next she's quiet and
subservient. She doesn't look upset or scared. Women, right?"

Lake lets out a laugh, before remembering Serena is there, still
sitting on the coffee table, not smiling.

"I tell her to come closer. She does. I grab her in my arms and kiss
her. She responds. I still can't get over that. Whores won't let you
do that, usually. But she does more than let me kiss her. She gets
into it, like before at the door. And that lingerie she's wearing is
so thin, you can feel everything through it. My hands find her ass and
I grab it and squeeze and fuck me if she's not moaning in my mouth
like she really wants it. I've had a few whores before, but this is
something else.

"When I break for air, she lets me go, turns around, and goes to the
bedroom, slowly, her ass swaying left and right. I follow her,
unzipping my pants as I do. I find her on my bed in the other room,"
and Lake nodded towards a door on the other side of the living room,
"she's lost her bra and panties but kept her stockings and garter and
boots, and she's sitting on the bed, legs spread and fuck me if I
can't see she's wet already. She has a look on her face that spells
out take me, and I don't need to be asked twice, and I kiss her, and
we fall onto the bed, and she's squirming under me and her hand is
reaching between us and she grabs my dick and guides it inside her and
it's like a fucking vacuum cleaner how she pulls me in. She wraps her
legs around my waist, and she moans, and groans, and makes all those
sounds that you hear in porn, but it's real, you know, she's not
faking it. She urges me on, and I plow into her, hard, you know, as
hard as I can make it, and she takes it all, she's happy to take it
all, screaming all the while. It doesn't take too long, I'm sad to
say, before I explode inside her, and when I do she pulls me in tight
and shivers and I swear to God she comes herself, scratching my back
when she does. Best goddamn cum I've ever had. It was like my soul was
spitting out the end of my dick."

Lake went silent, eyes still closed, as if he was reliving the
moment. Serena snapped him back to attention. "Then what?"

"Then I collapsed next to her on the bed, and I was just trying to
catch my breath and let my heart get back to double digits heartbeats,
you know. MD was next to me, propped up on an elbow, her long hair
spilling out all around her, and she was running her hands on my
chest. I could see her tits by my head, and I reached up to squeeze
one and she closed her eyes and moaned when I did that. I loved that
reaction, so I pinched her nipples a bit." Lake's face broke into a
dreamy smile.

"Before I can go much further, she stops me. 'Let me see if I can wake
you up,' she says. She has a look in her eyes I can't figure out. But
before too long, she scoots down my body and takes my dick in her
mouth, and blows me, right then and there. She must be tasting herself
on my dick something fierce, but that doesn't seem to bother her
none. She licks and sucks, and soon I'm hard again, and she's sucking
me still, not slowing down, not stopping, taking me in deep. Her mouth
feels incredible, like nothing else, and trust me, I've had plenty,
little whores willing to give me some for a hit, but this is something
else. There's art there. There's eagerness to please. Before I can
come, though, she pulls up and straddles me and lines herself up with
my dick and slides me inside her in one smooth move. She then goes on
to ride me, and I just hang on for the ride. Her tits bounce up and
down, her hair flying about, her face showing she's really enjoying
what she's doing. I run my hands over her body, having enough focus
this time to explore and appreciate her. She's beautiful, in a very
girl-next-door kind of way. And she looks like she's really into me,
and that just fucks with my head. When she sees me looking at her, she
smiles, a wonderfully warm smile, and takes my hand and brings it up
to her lips and sucks two of my fingers inside her mouth, keeping her
eyes on mine the whole time, riding me up and down. She sucks my
fingers in time with her hips. It takes again almost no time before I
lose control and jerk my ass up and shove my dick as deep inside her
as I can and explode. She lets go of my hand then, lies down on top of
me and, rubbing herself against me, pretty much starts purring." Lake
paused, lost in thought.

"Okay, so you guys screwed like bunnies. Good for you. Then what?"

"I don't know. I must have fallen asleep, because I was along on the
bed when I came to. MD was nowhere to be found. Just this note on the
table saying that she had a good time and thanking me. I was kindda
miffed, to tell you the truth. I thought she said she was there for
the whole night, but no. Though I looked at the clock and it was
almost four in the morning, so I guess that counted. There was some
indication that she had stayed and watched TV or something, and ate,
so perhaps she did stay the night and I was just too stupid to stay
awake and take advantage of it." He ran a hand through his hair,
looking dejected.

"Or you were drugged," said Daniel from his post by the door. Lake
looked at him like he had spoken in tongues.

"That's what I would have done," added Serena.

Lake looked back and forth at his two visitors, eyes wide. "Drugged?
You mean, she... Oh fuck me!" He sank in the sofa, grabbing his
head. "Oh fuck me! And she... Wait a sec!" He sprang up, looked
around, half-crazed, then ran to the bedroom. Serena and Daniel
exchanged glances as they heard noises coming from the room, things
being moved and dropped and thrown around. After a while, Lake
emerged, looking relieved.

"Okay, the bitch didn't take anything. But fuck, why did she do that
then?"

"Drug you?" asked Serena. "Probably to avoid having to screw your
sorry ass the whole night."

"But... but... but she seemed perfectly okay with it! She was smiling,
and that look in her eyes, I mean, pretty unmistakable."

"Well, far from me to argue a fellow female's tastes. But let's just
say that if she was indeed sent here as payment, there may be an
eensy-weensy chance that she may not have had that much choice about
it."

Lake hesitated. "Huh... Maybe... But I've seen whores, coke whores,
whores of all kind, and she didn't have that, you know, that jaded
look, or whatever. I swear, she looked like she really wanted it."
Lake was holding his head in his hands when he said that. For a
second, Daniel almost felt bad for the guy.

"Yeah, well, I think you've been had, but that's not really that
important to me right now. So you have not heard from MD since?"

Lake shook his head.

"Nothing was said when you delivered the drugs to that Snowman guy?"

"I never saw him. We arranged an exchange, and a bunch of guys,
silent, big, took the package from me and handed me an envelope full
of cash."

"Fine. Two things, then. First, do you have the note that MD left
you?"

Lake thought for a second, then headed for a desk in the corner of the
room. He rummaged in one of the drawers for a few minutes, then pulled
out a small sheet of paper that he handed to Serena.

"You've kept a note written to you two months ago?" Lake blushed,
something Daniel was not expecting. "Okay, thanks. Second, give me the
contact info for Snowman."

"What? No, I can't do that. Next thing you know I'll get in trouble
and he'll stick all sort of --"

"Lake, you're already in trouble. I won't tell where I got the info. I
told you, all I care about is MD. Now be a good boy and hand it over."

Lake gave her a long look, then sighed loudly before grabbing a piece
of paper from a nearby table and scribbling something on it after
checking an address book. "Here. That's the number that I have, from
MD's cell phone. Now can you please go?"

Serena stood up. "Sure. Thank you for your help. And stay out of
trouble."

Lake made a face, and slammed the door behind Serena and Daniel when
they left.

"Well?" asked Daniel.

"Well, we got a piece of info, at least. This Snowman may be our
connection."

"So you think it was Marjorie, then?"

"It fits. The handwriting on the note matches what I remember from
her, but I'll check more carefully at the paper, maybe even ask a
graphologist or something. But from the description, yeah, it's her."

"So... dancing, and now what, prostitution?"

Serena shrugged, looking defeated. "Seems like, doesn't it? I mean,
she was the last person I thought would do that, but hey, weirder
stuff has happened. I'd like to think I would have noticed if she was
in trouble, but maybe I'm just fooling myself."

"Lake seemed pretty sure she wasn't like other prostitutes. Not that I
trust him, but I guess he would know, and he doesn't really seem like
the kind of guy to try to bamboozle us like that on the fly."

"He was a bit of a joke, wasn't he? Only now, after two months, does
he think of checking whether the girl he had over robbed him? He has a
definite small-time-dealer-in-over-his-head vibe to him." She
sighed. "Wanna grab a coffee? I need to review this stuff, and you're
a great sounding board."

"Gee, thanks."

"You know what I mean, you goof."

"Sure. I'm not meeting Jenn until eight anyways."

"Anything fun planned?"

"Just hanging out with some of her English major friends over at the
Tropicana. Wanna come?"

"Love to, but can't. I have an article to finish for tomorrow, and a
pile of homework that has accumulated."

"Don't remind me. I'm in denial myself."

They found a coffeehouse with some tables free, and settled
down. Serena pulled out her notepad.

"All right, summarizing mercilessly: Marjorie until about three months
ago, was a seemingly trouble-free student, photographer for the
Darnell Daily, going steady with Jeremy Blatawski. She then disappears
for a few days at a time, coming back with no explanation for her
absences. A girl with her description is seen around town, hanging out
with gang members in the south side of town. Then in mid-September she
is seen by her boyfriend entering the apartment of Frederic Lake, who
claims she was sent by a man named Snowman as payment for a drug
delivery to an unknown group of people. The boyfriend confronts her,
they fight, they break up. Marjorie disappears a few more times, for
several days at a time. She quits the paper. A month ago, she
disappears again, to reappear a week later at The Spirited Flesh as a
dancer. And according to my sources, she has been appearing there
fairly regularly, at least once a week, since mid-September. She was
seen leaving the club three weeks ago in a limousine in the company of
a Caucasian man in his mid-thirties, average height, solid build,
finely dressed. She has not been heard of since. Her room has been
left untouched, and has not been entered for at least two weeks."

Serena stared at her notepad, lost in thought. "We found a charms
bracelet that we hypothesize belonged to Marjorie, and that seems to
have something to do with the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity, although we
don't know what exactly. And there is some suggestion that whatever
she is doing is not done under duress, although there is conflicting
evidence on that subject, if the drugging of Lake actually happened."
Serena looked up to Daniel. "Anything else? Thoughts? Suggestions?"

"The obvious thing would be money problems."

Serena shook her head. "A quick look around says that Marjorie had no
problems with money. She wasn't rich or anything, but didn't hurt
either. Nor did she have expensive habits. No gambling that anyone
ever noticed, no drug use. People that have an expensive drug habit
tend to be, if not easy to spot, at least easily identifiable after
the fact. Nothing with Marjorie."

"I know it's out there, but what about blackmail? I mean, this is
starting to sound like a bad movie plot..."

"This story already sounds like a bad movie plot." Serena shook her
head. "Blackmail's possible, but still feels wrong somehow. At the
Spirited Flesh, she seemed genuinely -- I don't know -- present? I
can't explain it. It's like Lake said, the vibe's wrong. I can't shake
the feeling that had she been blackmailed, she would have acted
differently."

"Again, perhaps she was drugged."

"And again, she didn't looked drugged on that stage. At least, not
like with any drug I've ever heard of."

"She did looked drugged afterwards, in the alley back of the club."

"There is that. Good point. I don't know. I just don't know. It's just
wrong."

Daniel marked a pause. "So what's next?"

Serena flipped the pages of her notebook while answering. "Next I
think is figuring out who this Snowman guy is and what's his
deal. Snowman. Who calls himself that anyways?"

The silence that settled over the pair was broken a few minutes later
by a deep bass voice.

"Mister Malcolm."

Daniel looked in the direction of the voice. "Professor Schmidt! Nice
to see you, sir."

"Likewise, Mister Malcolm, likewise. You are keeping out of trouble, I
trust?" Schmidt towered over the table, nodding with his head towards
Serena, who responded with a wave and a smile.

"Trying, sir, trying. This is Serena Banks, a good friend of mine."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Banks."

"Same here, sir."

"Mister Malcolm, it is opportune that we ran into each other this
evening. I have spoken with a former colleague of mine at the Advanced
American Institute for Democracy in Austin, and he seemed quite
appreciative of your background and your set of skills. I took the
liberty of giving him a copy of your resume and your telephone
number. You should be hearing from him soon. I have been following
their work closely, and they bear paying attention to. If you are to
spend some time in that part of our country, I can think of no better
place for you to spend it at."

"Sir... wow... I don't know what to say..."

"A thank you will suffice. You were my best student, Mister Malcolm,
the sort to give me back faith in today's wretched youth. Helping you
was the least I could do. Please let me know if anything else will be
required. It goes without saying that I would be delighted to supply a
letter of recommendation on your behalf."

"Thank you, sir. This is more than I could have hoped for."

"You're welcome. Well, I should be on my way. Good evening, Mister
Malcolm. Miss Banks, again, a pleasure to meet you." He tipped an
imaginary hat in her direction.

"Indeed. Good evening, sir."

Serena gave Daniel a quizzical glance after the professor had
left. "What was that about?"

"What?" Daniel put on his most innocent smile.

"That Austin thing. I thought you hated Texas. Now you're looking for
a job there? What happened to DC?"

Daniel sighed. "Yeah, I don't really like Texas."

"Come on, spill."

"Prying much?"

Serena lifted her eyebrows. "Why do you think I wanted to be a
reported in the first place? Besides, you wouldn't like me half as
much if I didn't poke my nose into your private life."

"I don't know about that, but anyways, I guess this has to come out
one way or another. Jenn got the Blumberry."

"She did? Wonderful! God, she must be so happy! Why didn't she say
anything?"

"She wanted to, believe me. But we decided to keep it quiet until we
had an idea what to do. You remember that chat we had when she applied
about what we'd do if she got it because that meant being in Austin
for at least two years?"

Serena understood. "Yes, and you said that you'd cross that bridge
when you got to it. Guess you're there, huh?"

"Indeed. And the bridge looks mighty rickety. Remember that little
rope bridge in that Indiana Jones' movie?"

Serena smiled, but didn't add anything, waiting for Daniel to
continue.

"I don't want to be apart from Jenn. Not for that long. Not for any
amount of time, really. And I don't want her to give up on her dream
either. So I'm looking to see if there's something reasonable for me
in the area. And if this pans out, the thing that Professor Schmidt
just mentioned, that might just do the trick."

"Ah, love..."

"Hey, don't make fun!"

"I'm not, not really. It's actually very sweet. But that's not very
surprising. You're a sweet guy, Daniel Malcolm."

Daniel squared his shoulders, deepened his voice. "But tough. Sweet,
but tough, right?"

"Sweet, tough, and badly in need of acting lessons. And what does Jenn
think about all of this?"

"You should probably ask her, but she's put the ball in my court,
after I told her I needed to figure out what was available in
Austin. She's being incredibly patient about it. I'm sure that she'd
even drop the Blumberry if I asked her to, which is why I won't even
suggest it." Daniel made no mention of Jenn's plan to seduce him into
going to Texas with her. Some things ought to remain private, he
thought.

"My, what a tangled web we weave," said Serena.

Daniel nodded ambiguously. "To tell you the truth," he said, "I'm
strongly leaning towards going to Austin with her, whether I get the
job or not. Worse come to worse, I can always get a job at Starbucks."

"The most overqualified barista around."

"I seriously doubt that."

"You've told Jenn that?"

"About Starbucks?"

"About going to Austin no matter what."

"Still thinking. I'm almost there."

Serena shook her head. "Daniel Malcolm, over-thinker. Well, don't wait
too long. The poor girl is probably on pins and needles."

"Guess I'll have to find ways to distract her, then. Speaking of
which, I should go. You sure you're not coming?"

"No, but thanks. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, though. If you're up
for hearing about my attempt at contacting Mister Snowman, of course."

"Please. I have to say, I'm getting quite curious about what's going
on. Maybe I'll recycle myself as a PI if I can't find anything else in
Austin. All right, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

"Night."

Daniel left the coffeehouse, noted the temperature had dropped, and
headed to the Tropicana, further up in the Ghetto. His mind kept going
back to the conversation with Professor Schmidt and the one which has
followed with Serena. He was getting more and more comfortable with
following Jenn down south. The idea of following his girlfriend in
order to let her advance her career did not bother him as much as he
had been worried it might. If it made her happy, then he was happy. He
loved her, simple as that. Moving to Texas -- temporarily, he reminded
himself -- was a small price to pay for being with her. Perhaps it was
time to push their relation one step forward. The thought took him by
surprise, but it felt right. Something to mull over later, he told
himself, just as he turned into the entrance to the Tropicana.

He saw Jenn almost as soon as he had made his way inside the bar. The
Tropicana was a popular spot for students without any interest in
sports, as it generally focused more on music than on sporting events
splattered on big screen televisions. Not that Daniel found the music
particularly enjoyable, but mercifully, the Tropicana avoided anything
suggested by the establishment's name.

The bar was also not overly crowded for a change. He had no difficulty
making his way to where his girlfriend was standing with by a group of
fellow students around a small table in a corner. Jenn was beaming at
him, a tall glass in her hand.

"Hi lover," she purred when he was close.

Before he could reply she had sashayed into his arms and was kissing
him. Daniel could taste the fruit juice laced with rum on her
lips. His hands automatically went to the small of her back and pulled
her to him. She let herself be pulled without a protest.

"Come on you two! Get a room already!"

Daniel let the kiss come to its natural end before replying to the
blonde that had tossed the remark amidst laughter and merriment.

"Hey Trish. How's life treating you?"

"Can't complain. Though you two could really make a girl feel bad
about not being hitched."

Jenn turned towards her. "I told you before, you should probably be a
bit more open to doing some sampling. Few boys nowadays are ready to
wait until marriage."

"I refuse to believe that there's no one willing to wait like I
am. That there's no one who holds purity as something... I
dunno... virtuous?"

"Oh, so you don't think I'm virtuous?"

Trish blushed, even though this was an exchange that Daniel had
witnessed several times before.

"You know it's not that. You are. In your own way. But you also
weren't raised like I was. I don't mean to imply you're a bad person."

Jenn smiled, patted her friend on the hand. "I know. Just teasing
you. You'll find someone, Trish, don't worry."

"Clearly not in the English department I won't."

"It's true that most of us fit the stereotype pretty well. Sad,
really."

"Speaking of stereotype," added Daniel, after ordering a drink from a
passing waitress, "why couldn't you folks meet up in a more classical
setting, as opposed to a dance club?"

"You mean like a coffeehouse? So we could argue over cigarettes and
bad coffee?" asked Trish.

"I'd settle for someone's basement with some pot and funny drinks, to
be honest."

And thus the evening started. Daniel enjoyed the group, part of the
cohort that had followed Jenn throughout most of her degree. They were
a pleasant bunch, just intellectual enough to be interesting, but not
overwhelmingly stuffy and know-it-all either. They were a nice change
from the political science students that Daniel often found himself
with. He enjoyed political debate as much as the next guy, but lately
he had come to realize that he cared less about discussing and
analyzing great institutions than about effecting some real changes.

He looked over at Jenn, busy chatting with Trish and a long-haired boy
that was overly fond of Dostoyevsky. It was her fault, he thought. She
had changed him, somehow. Jenn must have sensed that Daniel was
looking at her because she turned to look back at him, a question in
her eyes. He smiled, and lifted his glass at her. She grinned in
response, lifted her glass back, and he felt her leg rub against his
under the table.

The lights in the club dimmed, the place taking on its late night
persona, with more dancing and more crowds. Alcohol had thoroughly
lubricated the little group, now alternatively discussing the
emergence of zombies in recent literature and the relative merits of
the latest singles from pop stars Daniel had never heard of. He was
content with drinking and listening to the conversation, occasionally
throwing in a quip or a remark when the topic hit something he knew a
little about. Jenn seemed happy. She was drinking more than usual, and
Daniel worried that she might be affected by the question mark in
their future.

"Jenn! Baby doll, you look scrumptious tonight!"

Daniel was interrupted in his reflection by the low-pitched soothing
voice. He knew who it was without turning, and so did Jenn, who smiled
at the newcomer.

"Tannaka, glad you could make it!"

The whole table welcomed Tannaka, a tall Asian girl with the thin body
of a model. Which she was, moonlighting to pay her college
tuition. She leaned towards Jenn and gave her a hug, lingering a
little longer than called for. Tannaka had a crush on Jenn. Rather
than keep it hidden, she had decided to flaunt it, fully aware that
Jenn was in a relationship and that there was no chance for her to
steal Jenn away. So she played it up, and made it a joke. She turned
to Daniel, hugged and kissed him. They actually got along quite well,
Daniel and her. She was a staunch conservative, which tickled Daniel,
but she had a good head on her shoulders, which made her opinions at
the very least interesting, though completely wrong in Daniel's view.

"Hey big guy," she said. "Are you going to let me borrow your
girlfriend one of these nights?"

"Hi Tannaka. How are you?"

"Can't complain. Long day though, so time to unwind."

She made her way around the table before ordering more drinks, and the
table soon resumed its disjointed talk. Tannaka weaved herself into
the ongoing conversation seamlessly. She flirted without any hint of
shame with everyone around the table, and Daniel, who knew she was a
lesbian, wondered once again whether she might in fact be
bisexual. She had denied it when he had asked her, a long time ago,
and he had never seen her with a man -- something that Jenn confirmed
-- but still doubts remained. Tannaka looked at him and thrust her
tongue out, a twinkle in her eye. Daniel smiled and shook his
head. Tannaka then looked at Jenn, deep in conversation with Trish,
and that look was full of longing.

The following hour went by in a confusion of arguments and
dissertations, exactly what one would expect from English majors
thrown together around a table with a steady supply of intoxicants. At
least, they were not philosophers, thought Daniel, not for the first
time. When the conversation turned to Proust, which it infallibly did
with that particular crowd, Daniel headed to the bar. He ordered a
scotch, intent on it being his last drink of the night, and while he
was waiting he felt hands around his waist, and a warm body hug him
from behind.

"Hi love. You've been far tonight."

Jenn slid up next to Daniel. "Doesn't distance make the heart grow
fonder?"

"You want mine to burst from fondness?"

Jenn smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. "Trish's been entertaining
us on our end with her tales of catholic speed-dating. It's a meat
market out there, I tell you. So," she settled against the bar,
keeping close to Daniel, who enjoyed the contact, "how was the visit
to the guy tonight?"

"Lake? Weird. The short version is that he's a small-time drug dealer
who was offered a night with Marjorie -- or so it seems -- in payment
for his services."

At Jenn's shocked expression, he gave her the longer version of the
story, complete with the analysis by Serena at the coffeehouse after
the meeting. He did not mention Professor Schmidt. "At least we got
this one bit of information -- this Snowman guy."

"We? You're really taking to this investigative business, don't you?
You and Serena are regular little Starsky and Hutches."

"Starsky and Hutch? Isn't that a bit before your time?"

"The wonders of Internet television." She grew serious. "I can't
believe Marjorie is doing that. She must be into some sort of trouble,
big trouble. I wish I could help her."

"We gotta find her first."

"I trust Serena on that. She's like a bulldog after a bone."

"Bone optional. But yeah, I'm with you." He looked at his
girlfriend. "Huh, Jenn..."

She turned to him, putting her fingers on his lips. "Shush. Not
tonight. Not yet."

"But... wait... how did you know what I wanted to talk about?"

"Because you're so transparent it's comical. I know you, Daniel
Malcolm. You want to talk about the future. Don't. In a month. You
agreed. You think about it. I think about it. We share then, not
before. In the meantime, we have a game to play."

"I told you, you don't have to do this."

"And I told you that I have to. Didn't it cross your mind that maybe
I'm doing it for me?"

It had not. Daniel shut up. He and Jenn turned towards the group at
the table. They were getting more and more intoxicated, and the hum of
their arguments and their laughter meshed perfectly with the loud
music. Tannaka noticed them looking her way, and blew them both
kisses, letting her gaze linger on Jenn. Daniel saw Jenn redden. He
smiled.

"God, she is so over the top, it's almost --"

She stopped abruptly when she saw that Daniel was silently holding
between two fingers a card with the unmistakable logo of What is thy
Bidding, my Master? She swallowed. She stared at Daniel, who stared
right back. "Now?" she mouthed. Daniel nodded.

Jenn picked up the card, apprehension mixed with what Daniel
recognized as excitement on her face. She read the card. "Order a
player you control to make out with a person of your choosing,
excluding yourself."

Jenn looked up at Daniel, eyes wide. Her expression was clear. Who?
she was asking. He turned, and Jenn followed his gaze.

"Fuck," she said. "You can't be serious. Tannaka?"

"Again, Jenn, you don't have to do this."

She steeled herself. "I do. Besides, it might just be fun." She smiled
ruefully,

She gave him back the card, took a step towards the group, hesitated,
turned back, grabbed Daniel's head in her hands, and kissed him on the
mouth, her tongue seeking his without any pretense at foreplay. Before
Daniel could respond, she reached behind him, picked up his still
untouched glass of scotch, and downed it in one gulp. "Yuck," she
said, making a face, "nasty stuff." She headed towards the table,
unbuttoning two buttons on her shirt.

Daniel ordered a new scotch, and watched Jenn sit next to Tannaka, at
first at a socially acceptable distance, then slowly inching closer
and closer. Jenn acted drunker than she really was, laughing and
smiling wildly and touching Tannaka often on the arm, on the shoulder,
on the leg. Daniel smiled as Tannaka was at first taken aback, but
soon went with the flow and before too long had turned more fully
towards Jenn. Daniel found the whole thing quite arousing, watching
his girlfriend flirt outrageously with the beautiful Asian. He wasn't
completely sure what was going on inside his own head, but he was
willing to play along, if Jenn was.

His cock twinged painfully when he saw Jenn lean over and whisper
something in Tannaka's ear. It looked for all the world like she was
kissing Tannaka on the neck, with her hand on Tannaka's opposite
shoulder. Tannaka's eyes shot up in surprise, and she glanced at
Daniel, who quickly pretended to pay unwavering attention to the ice
floating in his glass. When he looked back up, Tannaka was replying to
Jenn by whispering back. Jenn blushed, and nodded. Tannaka stood up,
looked around, joked with a few of her neighbors, then headed towards
the back of the room.

Jenn remained at the table a few minutes, then stood up to go and meet
Daniel at the bar. She kissed him, a long slow kiss, then leaned into
his ear. "Come to the little maintenance room in the back in five
minutes. Don't make noise." A quick kiss on the cheek, and she
disappeared in the direction Tannaka had taken.

Daniel watched her go, admiring how her body moved, how her hair
swished with every step. He recognized it. She was turned on.

It took all of his willpower -- and an additional glass of scotch,
making the evening an expensive one -- not to follow Jenn then and
there. She had said five minutes, and he would abide by that. When the
clock on the far wall, the one with the admittedly kitsch hula
dancers, had ticked away the last agonizingly long minute though, he
bolted while trying to make it look like he was not.

He had never ventured in the back of the Tropicana, and he was worried
about encountering someone that would turn him away, but there was no
one. He went past the washrooms, in a dark hallway marked "Employees
Only". How does one recognize a maintenance room? he wondered, while
at the same time debating whether to try for a casual
I-know-where-I'm-going pace, or a sneaky I'm-up-to-no-good shuffle.

He stopped in front of a grey door marked "Maintenance Room," and had
to smile. Shaking his head, he eyed the awesome lock, then tried the
handle. The door opened. Remembering Jenn's admonition, he pushed it
as quietly as possible, just enough so he could see inside.

There were sounds, evidence of people in the room. In the dim light
cast by what must have been a desk lamp, he saw Jenn and Tannaka,
enlaced, sharing a deep kiss. Jenn had her backside against a long
workbench and Tannaka was pushing her against it while pressing into
her. The kiss was hot and passionate; Jenn's eyes were closed. Tannaka
was running a hand along the side of Daniel's girlfriend down to her
hip, groping a breast along the way. Daniel almost gasped when he
finally noticed that Jenn had somehow lost her jeans in the preceding
minutes, and was now clad only in a skimpy pair of pale green panties
and barely covered by her shirt -- partially unbuttoned but still
on. Tannaka was wearing a long black skirt. She had one leg thrust
between Jenn's, and slowly, achingly slowly, was grinding it up and
down. Jenn's leg muscles were clenching, clearly visible.

Daniel, trying very hard not to make a noise, leaned against the frame
for a better view. He watched Tannaka pull out of the kiss, holding
Jenn's head in her hands. Jenn was breathing hard, and so was
Tannaka. She held on to Jenn's head for a long time, silent, staring
into Jenn's eyes. Jenn looked right back at her, mouth slightly open,
lips red and wet. Still looking right at Jenn, not taking her eyes off
Jenn's face, she reached down and unbuttoned Jenn's shirt then pulled
the sides apart, baring Jenn's chest and abdomen. Jenn had a lacy bra
on, pale green like her panties, which did wonders against her dark
skin. Daniel could see Jenn's chest rise and fall with each breath.

Tannaka plunged. She kissed Jenn again, then let her mouth trail
kisses down Jenn's neck, then chest, playing with the top of Jenn's
breasts left exposed by the bra. With one hand she squeezed one
breast, making Jenn gasp. Jenn closed her eyes again, tossing her head
back to bask in the sensations.

Then Tannaka crouched, kissing down Jenn's belly, down to Jenn's belly
button, down to the upper edge of Jenn's panties. She kissed all along
that edge, each hand caressing up and down one of Jenn's thighs,
kissing through the thin material. Tannaka's head was obstructing
Daniel's view, but he could tell by Jenn's sharp intake of breath and
subsequent moans that Tannaka must have pushed Jenn's panties aside
with a finger and kissed or ran her tongue over Jenn's sensitive clit.

Before Jenn could recover, Tannaka had pulled back, and in one sharp
tug ripped Jenn's underwear off. Jenn's head shot up and she looked at
Tannaka with eyes filled equally with surprise and with lust. Tannaka
looked up and just smiled, before diving back between Jenn's
legs. Jenn moaned again, and looking up saw Daniel watching them
through the crack in the door. She smiled, and kept her eyes trained
on him for the duration, except when she was overwhelmed and had to
close them to compose herself.

Before long, Tannaka was, from the sounds of it, slurping away at
Jenn's pussy with a passion born of true worship. Jenn was now sitting
on the workbench, her legs over Tannaka's back, her hands in the lithe
Asian's hair, pulling her tight in a move that Daniel was used to
feeling whenever he himself ate his girlfriend out but had never in
actuality seen. It was tremendously hot, her hands clenching and
pulling this way and that. At regular intervals Daniel jerked his eyes
away from the action between Jenn's legs to look at her eyes, still
steadfastly trained on his. She seemed to thoroughly relish his
enjoyment, his lust, his almost hypnotic fascination. She moved her
hips against Tannaka's head, freeing one of her hands to grab one of
her own breasts and play with it through her bra. She was putting on a
show, and she was making sure it was a good one.

And then it ceased to be a show. Tannaka had lifted her hand to Jenn's
crotch and from the movements Daniel could tell that she had inserted
a few fingers inside his girlfriend, and she was rhythmically pushing
in and out, sucking and licking all the while. Jenn nearly lost it,
and finally closed her eyes, her mouth hanging open, her hands
gripping Tannaka's hair so hard it must have hurt. But Tannaka did not
seem to notice -- she had pulled her skirt up her legs, and was busy
fingering herself in time with her finger fucking. Daniel's cock was
straining against his pants. He toyed with the idea of pulling out and
jacking off, but vetoed it quickly. It was one thing to be caught
peeping, given that it was his girlfriend in there, but being caught
diddling himself in public was a bit much for him. It did not seem to
bother either Jenn or Tannaka, however, who were on their way to a
mutual crashing orgasm. It first landed on Jenn, who let out a long
gasp that revealed how hard she was trying not to scream. Daniel
admired how his girlfriend tensed up almost instantly, pulling Tannaka
tight against her with her hands and her legs, squeezing her thighs
together and trapping the Asian girl, who seemed to climax at the same
moment as she was mashed into Jenn's crotch, if her muffled scream and
extensive shudder were anything to judge by.

For a while, after Jenn had relaxed her grip. all that could be heard
over the thumping of the bass from the main part of the bar was the
sound of the two women breathing, calming down, recovering their
composure. When Tannaka stood, face glistening with Jenn's juices, and
enlaced and kissed the tall brunette softly on the lips and the kiss
prolonged itself into a long soul exchange, Daniel slowly closed the
door without making a sound and tiptoed down the hallway and back into
the main room of the bar. Everyone was too far gone either on drinks
or on debates to have noticed his absence. He headed for the bar and
asked for another scotch, budget be damned.

He took the glass and turned around just as Tannaka was coming back
into the room. She caught his eye, and he was surprised to actually
see her blush. He raised his glass in a silent cheers, and winked at
her. She almost stumbled in surprise, but recovered nicely, and sat
back at the table and seemingly picked up the conversation just as if
she had never left to make out with Jenn in a back room.

Daniel sipped his drink. Jenn came out shortly thereafter, hair in a
bit of a mess, looking slightly crazed. She spotted Daniel at the bar
and headed straight for him.

"Hi love, how --"

"Shut up."

She kissed him, practically raping his mouth with hers, delivering a
kiss that made his legs weak. He discerned an odd taste on her breath,
probably Tannaka's, and the thought made his cock jerk to
attention. Jenn, who was pushing against him, felt the shiver, and
pulled her head back.

"Let's go home. Now."

"What? What about --"

She put her face inches from his, looking at him with an intensity
that frightened him. "We're going home now, and you're going to fuck
me. You are going to fuck me hard, you are going to fuck me long, you
are going to fuck me till I pass out. Tannaka's fingers were nice, her
mouth was hot, but I need something big and hard in me right now. If
you don't deliver, I'm going to find some poor schmuck with a big dick
in this bar and give him the night of his life. I'd rather it be you."

"Okay then. Let's go."

"Good boy."

As Jenn pulled him towards the exit, shouting a general good bye to
the group, Daniel reflected that he still had a card left, that he
really liked this game, and that he'd never leave this woman.
