Freewill Pt. 04

An unimaginable crime.

An unexpected hero.

An unbelievable reward.

Simon lived a comfortable life: a steady job; a wife that shared his interests; an active social life. Yet he knew deep down that something had gone awry; that perhaps the contentment he felt with his life was an illusion. That gnawing discomfort falls to the wayside, however, when his world is shattered after he crosses paths with a monster hell bent on committing a heinous crime; and his act of heroism attracts the attention of a divine presence who grants him literally unfathomable powers in recognition of his sacrifice.

This sets Simon on an epic adventure of discovery as he tries to evade those furious at his heroic intervention, and shadowy government figures intent on discovering the 'secret' behind his new-found abilities. His quest will lead him to parts of the world he never knew existed as he experiences passion, joy, betrayal and heartache unlike anything he could have imagined. In the end, he will grapple with the question of if his 'gift' was in fact a curse, and if a man with his abilities can ever truly deserve happiness.

Freewill is the tale of a simple man given abilities which make him a god among men, and his journey to find the one thing his powers cannot grant... but which all men desire.

Author's note:

This novel is a work of contemporary fantasy adventure. I've split it into five sections for publication here.

For fans of the Dean, this novel began as a thought experiment along the lines of, 'what if Stranger was about a regular guy being granted that powerset, instead of a man born on another planet and raised by aliens (not to mention swapping out a frankly unforgiveable amount of bigotry found in that seminal work with a whole heap of on-page sensuality and a sprinkling of ideas inspired by other works of popular fantasy)?' and grew from there.

Make no mistake, this novel delves into some weighty subject matter. Trigger warnings for significant on-page violence (including a mass shooting and multiple hate crimes), depression and suicidal ideation.

All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

Thirty-Nine

A scratchy voice interrupted the efforts of a primary-school aged girl who was trying to kick a hole in the back of Simon's seat to say, "Thank you for joining us on our flight this evening. We are now on final approach to Kuala Lumpur. We should be on the ground shortly."

Simon groaned audibly but tried to convince himself that the torture would soon be over. It had been over twelve hours since departing Johannesburg. Early in the flight, he had debated the wisdom of withdrawing to make the flight go by unnoticed. He ultimately discarded the idea, worried he would emerge from withdrawal to find that the plane had been diverted and his seemingly lifeless body had been dropped off on some island no one had ever heard of in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

He rubbed his temples in frustration at the extreme discomfort he was enduring. At the compound, it was easy for him to filter out the emotions of those around him. He was even able to effortlessly focus on a single individual, or small group, without allowing in any extra noise. But here, in this aluminium tube hurtling twelve kilometers above the most desolate part of the southern hemisphere at over nine-hundred kilometers per hour, he had nearly been overwhelmed. Everyone around him had been radiating so much anxiety shortly after takeoff that he spent several minutes worried that he had missed an announcement that the craft had been hijacked. But, after some careful probing of a few individual passengers, he realized it was nothing more than a terror all humans felt, to a greater or lesser degree, when engaged in the unnatural act of flying.

Unlike his fellow passengers, who had spent the flight sleeping or watching the tiny screens before them, he had chosen to pass the flight studying his fellow travelers. He especially cherished the unrestrained emotions of the children. They were not yet worldly enough to fear flying. For them, it was just an adventure to be enjoyed. He also got great enjoyment out of the flight crew, for whom a flight path which involved nearly seven thousand kilometers of flying over the deepest part of the Indian Ocean, was so routine they had difficulty staying awake.

Simon spent the remainder of his time appreciating the school he was leaving in Dani's capable hands. And, more broadly, the time he had had with her. Their tearful farewell, the morning following the initiation had been joyous, despite the tears. She understood his need to move on more than he had thought possible. It was yet another measure of how far she had come in her learning of the First Language. He had told her, with complete sincerity, that her knowledge of that language now outstripped his own in some areas.

He knew he would miss her terribly. While he had not fallen for her in the same way he fell for Karen, or indeed even Max, he had been, and remained, quite fond of her. She was a wonderful companion, in good times and bad. But while she loved him unreservedly, he knew her love for teaching the First Language had become her all-consuming passion. He was also made glad that she was surrounded by so many wonderful people who shared her obsession.

He had left the compound, heading south without a clear destination in mind. He knew he was likely to leave Africa but nothing else was certain. But he had also not been in a hurry. He knew that even though the attention focused on him had died down in the months since the incident in Oklahoma, he was still very likely a wanted man in most of the civilized world. So, he had traveled slowly, focusing his efforts on once again changing his appearance.

During his first such exercise, he had felt limited by his skeletal structure and limited his efforts to changing his face and adding muscles. Now, with his expanded understanding of the different ways in which he could instruct his body to remake itself, he shaved off about five centimeters in height by making his femurs slightly shorter and stockier. He also aged himself down from the late forties appearance he had been using to closer to mid-twenties and allowed his face to become more rounded. Finally, he allowed his muscles to become leaner and faster while allowing a bit of padding to build up around his midsection. The final result was not unlike if George Clooney had somehow transformed into Joaquin Phoenix circa Gladiator.

Once his transformation was complete, he had turned his attention to the regrettable, but unavoidable, task of compelling a person in a position of influence to arrange for a new identity for him. The task had been more difficult than he hoped as he had had to make his way up the chain of command within the South African government, each conversation requiring a trickle of compulsion from Simon and causing him significant discomfort. The only upside was that he had discovered that through proper preparation spent in withdrawal, he was able to avoid the spontaneous nausea which had been so pervasive in his earliest inadvertent attempts to compel people.

After landing, he made his way through customs without incident with his South African passport. He instructed the taxi driver, in Malay, to take him to a reasonably nice hotel, leaving the specifics to the driver. He had chosen Kuala Lumpur as a convenient place from which to choose his next destination somewhere in southeast Asia. He was leaning toward Vietnam but wanted to get a feel for the area before making a decision.

***

What had started as an intention to spend a few hours withdrawn in his hotel room to recover from the flight had turned into a week. The teeming masses of the densely packed city were constantly threatening to overwhelm Simon's senses. Were it only the hustle and bustle of millions of people happily going about their lives, he likely would have been fine. But it was as if the city contained nothing but miserable, suffering people.

He had gone out for a walk the previous evening in an effort to rip off the metaphorical band aid, but it had only made things worse. He had encountered what he assumed was a street robbery with a young male pointing a weapon at two younger people who were both screaming and radiating terror. He had rushed to the scene, whereupon the male had turned his weapon on Simon. Simon's first instinct had been to turn the obviously wicked man, but he had the awareness to recognize that he could have been mistaken, so he instead chose to freeze him. This had caused the man's victims to immediately turn on Simon. What he could ascertain, before he had had to freeze them as well, was that the man was some kind of pimp and the young trans women he had been threatening were in fact demanding rightly earned money from him and he pulled the weapon in self-defense. Simon had ultimately been forced to compel them all to forget him and retreated to his room to withdraw and recover.

Other sojourns from his room had ended less disastrously, but no more satisfyingly. Simon had attempted to video call Max and Paige to assuage the misery which was threatening to consume him, but they were still on their return from the North Pole and tended to keep their equipment off unless they needed it. He thought briefly of contacting Dani, but he knew that the pain of their parting was still too fresh. He even tried Hank but ended the call quickly after realizing that, not only was it the middle of the night in southern California, but that his friend was also in the company of his lady-friend. He even briefly toyed with the idea of contacting Casey, but the thought made his skin crawl. After all, he reasoned, what possible common ground could he ever hope to find now with his estranged wife.

Left with no other options, he had opted to head to the roof-level bar of his hotel in the hopes that he would encounter less crippling misery there. He ordered a cocktail, even though alcohol no longer seemed to have any discernable effect on him. As he sipped his drink and gazed out over the impressive skyline, he felt the weight of the emotions of those around him pressing in on him. He glanced around at the people around him and noticed one middle-aged Caucasian woman with a particularly predatory look in her eyes.

She seized upon their shared glance and headed in his direction. She took the seat beside him and huskily whispered, "Buy me a drink?"

Simon nodded in reply in lieu of being rude and signaled the bartender before returning his eyes to the horizon.

She said, "You look like you're new in town. And like you could use a friend."

Simon regarded her intently, briefly considering replying in some eastern European language to brush her off, before saying, "How did you know I speak English?"

"Tell you what, buy me dinner and I'll explain what it is about you that screams 'American'."

"Fair enough. Where'd you have in mind?"

"How about your room?" she asked with a coquettish wink.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. How about the restaurant downstairs?"

"Fine by me, sugar."

Two hours later, they were wrapping up what had been a truly above average meal during which Simon's companion, who said her name was Mina, had spoken nearly non-stop but had yet to get to the part where she told Simon how she had pegged him as an American. As their waiter cleared away their dessert plates, he noticed Mina peer cautiously around the room. He felt her level of excitement rise in time with her anxiety.

He said, "What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing's wrong. Why would anything be wrong?"

He sighed with the realization that whatever revelation she had promised to impart to him was almost certainly not forthcoming. He said, "Very well. I thank you for a pleasant meal. I enjoyed your company. But now, I really must be going."

"I don't think so," she said nastily. Simon merely glared at her in response, so she continued, "We took the liberty of verifying that the credit card you used to book your suite has an unlimited line of credit. There are two men at the bar and one outside in the lobby. We will go with them now. Once you have made a generous contribution, you will be returned to your suite."

Simon sighed and said, "I don't think so."

A glimmer of worry crossed over her features before she said, "It is not up to you. I warn you; we are all armed. You will leave with us, or you will not leave at all."

"Let me ask you something, how many times have you pulled off this little hustle?"

"Enough. No more talking. Let's go. Now."

"I don't think so," Simon repeated. "In all the times you've pulled off this hustle, how many times as someone refused to go with you?"

"None," she said, the glimmer of worry on her face now transitioning to the first tendrils of genuine fear.

"Well, then. I guess today might be your lucky day. Leave now, and never bother me again, and I promise no harm will come to you. At least, not by my hands."

"You are not in charge here. We are."

Simon peered at her intently and whispered, "Don't say I didn't warn you." She started to turn toward the bar, but Simon continued, "Sleep."

She slumped toward the table, her head hitting the surface with a thunk. Simon spied two men at the bar stand up and head in his direction, their hands reaching beneath their jackets. He allowed them to approach, thankful that the table in which they were seated was somewhat secluded. As they reached the table, and pulled out their guns, Simon bid them to sleep as well. As their slumbering bodies hit the floor, he took a moment to inspect all three would-be assailants. Even in sleep, the minds of the men held enough wickedness to be plainly evident. Mina's mind, on the other hand, held the barest hint of decency. He sent the bodies of the men to oblivion with a thought and left Mina sleeping peacefully on the table.

He then rose, allowing for a moment the crushing onslaught of the emotions of those around him to invade his consciousness. A moment's examination showed no undue rancor pointed in his way from the direction of the restaurant's kitchen. He put his mental walls back up before cautiously heading in that direction.

Forty

The clerk regarded Simon with a bored gaze and said, "The next departure we have is for..."

"I don't care," Simon said hurriedly. "I'll take one ticket, so long as it's leaving shortly."

"It leaves in four minutes. But the only tickets we have left are..."

"Still don't care. I'll take one."

The clerk shrugged and handed Simon a ticket in exchange for a handful of very colorful currency. He glanced at the ticket, having to concentrate to make what initially appeared to be a series of squiggles transform into readable text, before taking off at a jog in the direction of the indicated platform. He arrived moments later as a uniformed man was starting to close the doors. Simon managed to persuade him to allow his passage and quickly made his way up the gangway. Moments later, he stepped onto what seemed to be a rather large, and more luxurious than he was expecting, ship as horns rang out announcing its imminent departure. He had expected something run-down, and filled with cars, considering that it had been labeled a ferry. But this seemed more akin to a cruise ship.

He glanced down at his ticket, trying to discern where he was supposed to go, but it seemed that all the ticket did was grant him entry to the craft. He made his way toward the center of the craft, avoiding the crowds which were watching the departure, in an attempt to try to figure out where the craft was headed. As he searched, he kept trying to convince himself that he had been right to get out of the city with all possible haste, not even stopping to go to his room and collect his effects. He had worried that, while he had handled Mina and her thuggish compatriots with ease, there was no telling how many more associates were lurking nearby. Or, worse, how large their criminal enterprise truly was. He had worried that, based on the confidence his assailants had had, there might be the Malaysian equivalent of the mob looking for him within hours if not days.

An hour later, he was seated in what was euphemistically called a lounge but was, in actuality, nothing more than a crude representation of an airplane's interior with slightly more comfortable seats. The ferry was, he learned, headed for the west coast of Thailand. The people he had spoken to indicated that it was quite the tourist destination, famed for its beauty. The downside was that the journey would take nearly twenty hours, and his fare did not include any type of accommodation beyond whatever seat he could find in the ship's common areas. As he looked around, he saw that he was far from the only person without a space to call their own. The seating area he occupied was full to the brim. He settled back to try to pass the trip in relative comfort, at least as much as was possible given the packed quarters.

As he settled in for a long, uncomfortable ride, he noticed a young woman slightly shorter than his current height enter the room wearing a worn looking backpack. She was dressed simply, wearing comfortable looking shorts and a logo-less tank top which did nothing to conceal her lithe voluptuousness. Her long black, tightly braided hair was held in place by a colorful headscarf. On her feet, she wore well-worn hiking boots. On the whole, she gave off the air of a person on a lengthy, yet spontaneous, journey. She looked around the room wearily, shifting from one foot to the other in obvious discomfort. She noticed Simon's eyes upon her and gave him a dismissive once-over.

Simon signaled to her. She looked at him warily, giving the room a final annoyed glance before heading toward him. As she approached, he stood and gestured to his seat.

She snapped, "Don't bother. I'm fine."

Simon said, "No please, I insist."

She huffed and said, "Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why would you give up your seat?"

"It's a long trip," he replied lamely.

"And you don't think a little old girl can handle standing up for a few hours?" she asked in what Simon could now clearly discern was a midwestern accent that was so thick, he could hear the corn waving in the breeze with each word she spoke.

"It's closer to twenty hours. And it's got nothing to do with what you're capable of doing. The way I was raised, a gentleman always gives up his seat for a lady."

"And you think you're a gentleman?"

"I have been referred to as such, from time to time."

"Well, I don't need your patriarchal bullshit," she said firmly, but there was no missing the exhaustion in her voice.

Simon said, "Suit yourself. But the seat is yours now. Whether or not you choose to use it is up to you." She glared at him, but he merely said, "Ma'am," and walked out of the compartment.

***

Later that day, after several hours seated on a hard metal bench beneath an overhang which did a poor job of protecting Simon from a rain shower, he made his way into the restaurant which had finally opened its doors and provided a respite from the weather. He felt truly terrible for the other passengers who had endured the trip outdoors along with him. Simon had spent the time in partial withdrawal and had had to make a few minor tweaks to his metabolism to keep his body temperature high enough to prevent hypothermia.

He took a few minutes in the restroom to wring out his clothing before grabbing a seat at the bar. He ordered some coffee, savoring its warmth even though, like alcohol, the caffeine no longer had any effect on him. He was contemplating ordering food, even though he likely would not need to eat for several days, just to extend the amount of time he could reasonably occupy a barstool, when he became aware of someone taking the seat beside him. He glanced over, surprised to find the woman to whom he had to contentiously given his seat seated next to him, still wearing her backpack.

She said, "Jesus, you're soaked." He merely shrugged in response. She continued, "Listen, I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you earlier."

"Think nothing of it. Although, I would have felt better about it had you actually taken advantage of the seat."

"Oh, I totally did. I'm a proud woman, but I'm no fool. Mrs. Khan agreed to save my seat if I brought her something to eat. In any case, I wanted to say that I really appreciate what you did. Especially considering..."

"Considering what?"

"That you've were forced to sit outside in the freezing rain. Which is exactly where my 'hey, let's foolishly look around the ship before finding a place to sit' ass would have ended up if it hadn't been for you. So, anyway, I appreciate it."

He smiled and said, "It was hardly freezing. At worst, it was fifteen degrees. In any case, I'm really glad I could help."

"Well, anyway. Thanks again. I guess I'll see you around."

Simon smiled at her, prompting a shy smile from her in return before she picked up two covered plates and made her way out of the restaurant. He turned back to his coffee, savoring its bitter warmth.

A few moments later, he saw the woman reenter the restaurant. This time, her expression was even darker than it had been when Simon had first offered her his seat. She dropped into the barstool next to him with a mighty sigh. Simon could feel the anger roiling off her.

He signaled the diminutive bartender. When the latter arrived, Simon said, "I think the lady could use a drink. And I'll have another of these," he said, raising his coffee cup.

Simon sensed the woman was about to object, but she quickly deflated and said, "Thank you... um..."

"Simon," he said, extending his hand.

"Nia," she replied, shaking his hand firmly. Nia turned to the bartender and ordered a gin and tonic.

Simon said, "Let me guess. Mrs. Kahn got a better offer than dinner."

"It would seem," she said with a wry expression on her face, "that her English wasn't quite as good as I assumed. She seemed quite confused when I offered her the food. Her son slash husband, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased with the fact that he has a warm place to sit now. Sorry I lost your seat." Simon could think of nothing to say in response, so he merely shrugged. Nia indicated the two wrapped plates she had set on the bar and said, "Join me for dinner?"

Three hours later they were still seated at the bar, having shared a meal and uncounted drinks. Their conversation had been as easy as it had been refreshing. Simon knew he was getting jaded, but he found it comforting to speak to someone who was not anxious to either tear his clothes off or tear his heart out. They just talked, like old friends getting reacquainted.

Nia was on a journey of self-discovery, having taken leave from her job as a software developer to live out a life-long dream of touring southeast Asia. She was traveling cheap, routinely staying in whatever hostels would accept her youngish appearance without checking her passport. She had been traveling for over a month, starting in Hong Kong and slowly making her way around the coast of the Indochinese Peninsula. She intended to head south after reaching the northernmost part of the Thai coast, ultimately hoping to make it as far as Tasmania if her money held out.

Simon answered her questions about his plans as honestly as he could without placing her in undue danger. He explained his lack of luggage by telling her of the attempted assault and his worry of inadvertently attracting the attention of organized crime. He only left out the specific means of his escape, attempting to instead imply that he had gotten away when they were distracted. Explaining his more distant past, he told her that he had had success in the market and had decided to do some traveling while he figured out what was next for him.

"So," Simon said as he finished bringing her up to date. "Where you headed once we reach our destination?"

She said, "I just want to spend some time around Phuket. Really savor it as I can't imagine ever getting the chance to come back. How about you?"

"I'm not sure. As I said, this was kind of a spur of the moment trip. I guess I'll start by getting some new clothes and finding a place to stay. Any pointers on hotels?"

"Not really. I can't afford a hotel. We're docking around five in the morning, so I figured on finding a bed in a hostel early before spending the day sightseeing."

"Any tips on the sightseeing? Maybe we could hook up once we both find some lodging."

"I don't know, Simon. You seem like a really nice guy. But I just got out of a relationship back home and I'm really trying to..."

"I get it," Simon said gently. "No worries."

As their conversation reached a lull, Simon noticed the bartender staring at them purposefully. Simon turned in his direction and quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Closing time," he said apologetically in Thai.

Nia looked at Simon questioningly, so Simon repeated what the bartender had said. She asked, "You speak Thai?"

"I guess you could say I have something of a gift for languages."

She said, "So, what? We're just expected to sit outside in this downpour?"

The bartender could only shrug helplessly before he resumed cleaning glasses.

Simon said, "Perhaps we could locate another gentleman amongst those in the seating area."

"Fat chance," she muttered. Simon then felt a surge of concern flow from her, which confused him until he remembered his new, more corpulent, body. "I mean. Shit. Sorry."

Simon merely smiled at her discomfort and said, "Shall we?" pointing in the direction of the lounge.

She nodded dispiritedly and proceeded him. As they entered the lounge, they found every seat filled.

Nia murmured, "Told you."

"One second," Simon replied before walking closer to the seating area. He scanned the room until he found a man who appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties. The man seemed to be alone, and his eyes were drinking in Nia's curvaceous body with lecherous intent. Simon could practically feel the lust searing off the younger man.

Simon approached him, saying in Thai, "Good evening."

"What do you want?" the man replied nastily in the same language.

Simon took a deep breath, steeling himself against the pending discomfort. He said, "I want you to give up your seat for my friend here. And then I don't want you to look at her, or think about her, ever again."

The man's eyes went glassy for a moment before regaining their focus. He then looked up at Simon and nodded firmly.

Simon looked back at Nia and said, "This gentleman would like you to take his seat."

She looked bewildered and said, "But... why? How?"

"He can see you're exhausted, Nia. Just take the chair and enjoy the rest of your vacation."

Once again, she looked ready to object. But her fatigue won out. She nodded wearily and took the seat as the man stood.

She looked up, her gaze falling on Simon more than the man who had relinquished his seat, and said, "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

Simon merely nodded in response before heading back out into the bracing rain.

Forty-One

Simon shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs and shake the confusion which was overwhelming him. He heard movement nearby, but saw nothing when he looked in that direction. In fact, he realized, no matter where he looked, all he saw was darkness.

"Hello," he said tentatively.

A light above him clicked on, forcing Simon to avert his gaze while he waited for his eyes to adjust. A raspy voice called out from the darkness surrounding Simon, "We got your girl, you freak. And we're gonna let you watch while we have some fun with her."

Simon tested his bonds, finding them far too tight and too strong to hope to slip free of them. He tried to expand his consciousness to gain sufficient understanding of the material binding him so he could send it to oblivion, but his mind refused to focus. All he could hear was his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He was interrupted by the sound of a door opening. Shortly, a group of figures entered the lighted area. It was four men surrounding what appeared to be a woman. As they moved into the light, he saw that it was indeed a woman. She was only wearing a dirty, torn tank-top and a similarly worn pair of panties. Her head was covered by a hood, but Simon had no doubt as to her identity.

He shouted, "Leave her alone!"

But his attempt to use the First Language faltered, and their captors merely sneered in response. He tried again but could not make the words form. One of the assailants headed in his direction, cruelly forcing a gag into his mouth before returning to the woman who was being forced onto her knees.

"No!" Simon tried to shout.

The same man who gagged him approached him again. He rasped, "Ain't nothin' you can do to stop us, freak," before rearing back and sending a left hook towards Simon's chin.

***

A devastatingly loud foghorn jolted Simon back to consciousness. He looked around in terror, only to find the young man whom he had compelled to move the previous evening staring at him worriedly. Simon jolted from his seat like he had been burned, rushing to the railing and gulping in a lungful of air. As his eyes came into focus, he saw that the ship was in the process of docking, and it was still dark in the unfamiliar harbor.

"What the fuck was that?" he whispered to himself.

He had not dreamed, much less had a nightmare, since the grokking. He typically only withdrew for a short time each day, and that time was spent in careful reflection or working on his body. He had rarely just slept, those instances always having come after intimacy and usually in the arms of a lover. He could not remember having fallen asleep the night before. His only memories had been of intense boredom intercut by fond remembrances of the time he had spent with Nia. He could only conclude that he had slipped into unconsciousness during the endless overnight trip.

Simon began pacing around the exterior of the ship, afraid to allow himself to relax. He opted instead to watch the docking procedure. He noticed Nia along the portside railing as well, but he did not approach her, the memory of her dismissal from the previous evening still fresh in his mind.

The ship finished the docking process and the weary passengers started to disembark. Simon held back, his recent nightmare making him more wary the normal to be in the midst of crowds. By the time he made his way back onto land, the sun was creeping above the eastern horizon. This time, he decided to let his feet carry him to acceptable accommodations rather than relying on a taxi driver. Fortunately, there were several good looking options within walking distance of the port and he soon found himself in a private room.

He was at once anxious and eager to withdraw and recharge. The former because he was more exhausted than he could remember in recent months. The latter because he had no wish to relive the horrific nightmare. Ultimately, the need for rest, not to mention the stress caused by the compulsion he had used to secure Nia a second seat, had won out, and he chose to withdraw.

He emerged several hours later feeling thankfully refreshed but no more willing to face the teeming masses than he had been earlier. He spent a few hours working with the hotel's concierge replacing his abandoned clothing and electronics, then a few more hours setting the latter devices up with the suite of encryption programs Paige had arranged for him. He sent messages to his friends, updating them on his last twenty-four hours but assuring them he was safe and healthy.

Moments later, his phone rang. He smiled when he saw Paige's name pop up on the display.

He said, "Good... I was going to say afternoon but I'm not sure what time it is where you are..."

Paige said, "It's mid-morning. We're six hours behind you."

"Great. How was the north pole?"

"Barren," she answered succinctly.

Simon then heard Max's muffled voice say in the background, "Put it on speaker." Shortly, he heard Max say, much more clearly, "If you're asking about our trip, it was beautiful. My fiancé's beauty is so all encompassing, she has difficulty recognizing it in the natural world."

"You're speaking of yourself, my magnificent darling. Next to you, everything else pales in comparison. Also, you seem to have let slip our news."

"Oh shit," Max whispered conspiratorially.

Simon said, "Fiancé? Congrats!"

"Thanks," Max replied at the same time as Paige said, "Thank you, my friend. I am very happy."

"So, what happened? Did you guys get to the pole and Max surprised you with a ring?"

Max said, "No! If only I were capable of such romance. It was my lovely Valkyrie. She dropped to one knee while I was gazing around like a dummy because someone suggested there were polar bears nearby."

"That's delightful. Congrats again. I'm so happy for both of you."

"Thanks, Simon. We really appreciate it. And, while we're on the subject, we were hoping you'd be the best man."

"Of course. So, who is Paige going to have be her..."

"You misunderstand, my friend," Paige said with obvious mirth in her voice. "You are the best man for us both. And you will be our only attendant. We plan to ask Dani to officiate."

"That's awesome. I'm certain she'd say yes. Although she may insist on doing the service in the First Language."

"We'd have it no other way," Max said happily.

"So, what's next for the Harris slash Rozzer collective now that you've conquered the north pole. Antarctica?"

"We're thinking of Phuket," Max said severely. "Unless a certain reckless best friend of ours manages to convince us that he hasn't placed himself in extreme peril."

He said, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Where's Jo, Simon?"

"He's in Africa, keeping an eye on the compound. No one even knows I left. That's where anything will happen, if indeed we were even still in danger."

"Your enemies have long memories, Simon," Paige said sternly. "They will not forget. And you should not be so foolish as to think they would."

He said, "That's why I left the security near the compound. I don't need it here. This thing in Malaysia had nothing to do with white supremacists. It was just street thugs trying to mug me."

"Then why did you flee?"

"Because I read an article a few weeks ago about organized crime in southeast Asia and I got spooked. I know there were at least three of them, and they said there were more. I didn't want to be ignorantly walking around town one day only to have them toss me in a van. I can't leave the walls of my awareness down in big cities. They could get the jump on me as easy as anyone else. And if they knock me out, that'll be all she wrote. So, I figured getting the hell out of Dodge was the prudent course of action."

Max said, "So you just hitched a ride all the way across the Malacca Strait? What'd that take, ten hours?"

He said, "Closer to twenty. And they didn't have any private staterooms left since I basically got on the boat as they were casting off."

"Did you at least find a comfy place to sit? Or did you just ride the whole trip out like that chick in Titanic?"

"I did find a seat."

"Well, that's good."

"Got to enjoy it for almost ten whole minutes."

Max said, "What happened? More thugs? I trust no one will find the bodies?"

He chuckled and said, "No. I'd say my reason for giving up my seat was a good deal nicer to look at than common street thugs."

"Holy shit, you met a girl you like," Max squealed.

"Settle down," Simon said lamely.

"Like hell. What's she like?"

"First off, she's uninterested. So, this conversation is all for naught."

Max and Paige did not reply, prompting Simon to check to see that the connection was still active. At length, Max said, "You still have to tell us about her. Especially if she's uninterested."

"She's on walkabout. Just backpacking around southeast Asia while she's taking something of a gap year. I gathered that she just got out of a relationship and she's knocking some items off her bucket list."

"Is she pretty?"

"What kind of misogynistic, caveman-brained question is that? Is she pretty? If you were talking to your sister about a girl she met, would you ask her that?"

Max said, "First off, my sister isn't into chicks, whereas you most definitely are. Also, if she told me she met a guy then I would totally ask her if he was hot. Now answer the goddamned question."

"Yes, she's very attractive. She's also very not interested."

"I told you," Paige said softly in the background.

"Told you what?" Simon snapped.

Paige said, "My fiancé and I were discussing you during our journey and I suggested that the only way you could ever be happy with a woman was if you had to work at it."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"My dearest Simon. We are not judging you. We love you, as much as either of us will ever love a man. And we would do anything to make you happy. What I meant by that was simply that I knew you would never find happiness at the school."

"How so?" Simon asked, somewhat mollified.

"Before we left, I stopped by your office to ask you something. When I arrived, one of the newer arrivals, what I believe Dani would now consider third circle, was in your office, ostensibly tidying up while you were dictating a lecture. She was wearing little more than a smile and I could see from your doorway the way she constantly presented herself to you."

"That school was filled to overflowing with hot, nubile girls, and a few guys, who would have given anything for a mere word from you," Max continued. "You could have literally lifted a finger, and they'd be crawling over each other to suck your dick. They worshipped you like a demigod, babe. And while, having sampled the forbidden fruit myself, I can't say I blame them, I also agreed with my fiancé that you could never find love in that environment. You need someone to fall in love with you, not your powers or what you can do for them. And you were never going to meet that person in a school where, through little fault of your own, you were basically the teacher and the messiah all wrapped up in one hot-to-death package."

"I changed my appearance," he responded lamely. "Scaled the hotness, as you say, way back. Perhaps that's part of the reason Nia was so quick to dismiss me."

"Perhaps," Max answered. "Although if so, then she was never the one for you."

He said, "Indeed. But, as I said, this is all likely academic. I asked her if she'd like to see me again. She said no. There's a half-million people here. I doubt I'll run into her again."

"Perhaps," Max allowed. "Perhaps not. I guess you'll never know unless you get out there and look."

Forty-Two

"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" a sultry contralto voice called out from above where Simon was lounging on the beach. He looked around to spot Nia headed toward him wearing sandals, a sarong and a bikini top which was tasked with the nearly impossible job of restraining breasts which, Simon could now plainly see, were noticeably larger than he had first thought.

She strode up to where he sat and, after placing a hand on her hip in a fashion which only served to enhance her curviness, said, "Care to explain yourself?"

He said, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Are you following me?"

"Of course not. I had no way of knowing you'd be here."

She said, "You really expect me to believe that?"

He said, "I am, as I'm sure you've no doubt deduced, an American male. This place is called James Bond Island. It's also one of the most beautiful places on earth. In all honesty, if you were hoping to avoid me, this is the last place you should have come."

"I wasn't hoping to avoid you," she said as she took a seat next to him. "I'm sorry. I guess I've just got a complex about guys stalking me."

"I see," Simon replied simply. "Please believe that was the furthest thing from my mind. In fact, I had honestly resigned myself to never seeing you again."

"So, you were thinking about me."

"This seems like a trap," Simon replied after a pause. "If I say yes, then I'm a creepy stalker. If I say no, then I'm a liar. I really enjoyed having dinner with you the other night. But I wasn't following you."

"Prove it."

"That seems tantamount to asking me to prove a negative. But, if it will make you feel better, I can leave this beautiful beach to you and return to the mainland."

"How would you do that? The boat doesn't leave for another two hours."

"I chartered a boat for the trip. I'm not a big fan of crowds." He stood and, after a look around the picturesque beach, said, "Well, enjoy the scenery. Good day."

He made it almost to the tree line before she said, "Simon."

When he glanced back in her direction, she waved him back. He paused for a moment, caught between the desire to spend time with this fascinating woman and frustration at how she kept whipsawing him. She waved again, patting the sand beside her. He huffed and returned to the tranquil spot on the beach.

She paused for a moment, enjoying the serenity surrounding them, before saying, "And you said you couldn't prove a negative."

"Huh?"

She said, "A stalker would have spent his last breath trying to convince me that it was all just coincidence, that he would never have followed me to someplace so secluded that no one could hear me scream if he tried to get all rapey. But you knew that, didn't you? So, you just abandoned your peaceful spot, that I interrupted, in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Kudos to you, sir." Simon nodded, allowing the silence to stretch between them. He spied Nia adorably biting her lip in frustration beside him. At length, she continued, "I'm sorry for snaking your spot, by the way. You continue to be nothing but a perfect gentleman, and I continue to be nothing but a bitch to you."

"I cannot allow anyone to impugn the character of a lady in my presence, even if you're talking about yourself."

"What is it with you and assuming the best in me, despite how I've treated you? Boobs don't make a person a lady, Simon."

"You don't know how right you are," he responded glumly.

Another silence stretched between them, prompting her to say, "Sounds like there's a story there."

"Indeed, and not a nice one. But you're nothing like her. You're just being cautious. There's nothing wrong with that, especially considering..."

"Considering what?"

Simon said, "You're an extremely beautiful woman traveling alone. Hell, even I nearly got mugged a few days ago. And I look like a hundred kilos of chewed bubble gum."

"Thank you, Simon. But your compliments only reinforce how poorly I've treated you. Please, allow me to make it up to you."

"It's nothing. Really. I'm just glad to have some company which matches the scenery."

"I mean it," she said firmly.

"Very well," he said, pausing for effect, "have dinner with me."

"Are you asking me out?"

"I'm asking you to have dinner with me. Anywhere you like."

She grinned and said, "Ok, how about Nobu in New York?"

"Sure," Simon replied. "But it'll be a hell of a round trip. Would you mind if we fly private? The commercial flight into Malaysia nearly did me in."

"Well, obviously. I mean, it'll only cost about a quarter million dollars to fly most of the way around the world private. I'm sure you've got that kind of cash laying around if you were willing to spend the night in the rain on the ferry a few nights ago."

"As I said, that was kind of a last-minute thing."

She regarded him intently and said, "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes. But I'm not trying to impress you, Nia. Merely confirming that your suggested itinerary is acceptable."

"I'm still not entirely certain if you're kidding or not. But, just in case, why don't we instead just have dinner at your hotel? In the meantime, I was thinking of going for a swim. Care to join me?"

***

Nia had agreed to meet Simon at his hotel later that evening, gently refusing his offer to share his chartered ride back to the mainland. They had parted after an enjoyable hour of swimming in the shadow of the rock formation made famous by the movie which was nearly older than their combined ages. Like their shared time at the ferry bar several days prior, the afternoon had been a breath of fresh air for Simon and, unless his sense of such things had completely ceased functioning, Nia as well.

Any awkwardness caused by their mildly contentious conversations leading up to swimming quickly evaporated. All that was left was the pleasure each felt in the other's company. Simon found Nia to be as warm and kind as she was proud and witty. She seemed to enjoy the sincerity with which he faced the world, in addition to how he carried himself with calm assurance which never escalated to any kind of infantile, alpha-male bullshit.

She had also continued to test him, which he found endearing. Whether it was coquettishly asking about if he had a significant other or teasingly adjusting her bikini top while she watched his expression carefully; he found it all to be highly enjoyable. Both because it gave them more chances to laugh together, something he had sorely missed since his time with Max, or because it told him that she mirrored, at least to a degree, his interest.

His trip back to Phuket City passed quickly, the speedboat he had chartered slicing through the placid waters of Phang Nga Bay without incident. By the time they docked, night had fallen. Simon was anxious to get to his room and get cleaned up before his schedule rendezvous with Nia later that evening. His boat had passed her ride back from the island, also a speedboat but one filled with many more passengers, just outside the harbor. Simon had tried to spy her along the railing, but they had not been close enough.

As he made his way along the darkened quay, he had just started to feel a trickle of wariness at the edge of his consciousness when several figures emerged from the gloom. Several of them were wielding chains or hammers but they all had an evil glint in their eyes.

"Gimme yer cash," the one closest grunted in heavily accented English.

"You don't want to do this," Simon replied in Thai. "I don't have any cash on me, and I don't want to hurt you."

"We're not the ones that will get hurt, fat man. Give us your cash, and we'll be on our way."

"No," Simon answered simply as he began lowering the carefully crafted walls he used to keep the emotions of those around him at bay. He sensed a total of four muggers, two of which were hidden. More worryingly, he sensed no wickedness in them, only hunger. These were not hardened criminals. These were hungry kids who hoped the obviously rich tourist who chartered his own boat would have enough cash on him to feed them for a few days. He knew immediately he could not turn them, and he was loathe to compel them to leave him alone. Ironically, he found himself wishing he had cash on his person to give them.

"I'm really sorry guys," he continued. "I wish I could help, but I don't have anything on me."

"Your phone, then," the boy before him grunted hopefully.

"I'm afraid not. This is worth a lot more to me than it would be to you. Tell you what, why don't you stop by my hotel in about an hour? I'll leave an envelope at the front desk for you with some cash in it. Just tell me your names."

"You think we're stupid? We're not going to give you our names. Or come to your dumb hotel. You'd just have the cops there waiting for us."

Simon sighed at both the rightness of their suspicion and his inability to think of a better way to help them. He truly felt bad for their predicament, and a part of his consciousness resolved to carry cash upon him in the future for just this type of predicament. He prepared himself to compel them to come to his hotel as he had suggested, knowing it would take quite a bit of compulsion to override their completely understandable fear of capture, when he heard a voice ring out from behind them.

"Hey!" a sweet contralto voice called out in English. "Leave him alone!"

Fear flashed through their eyes, quickly replaced by determination. The hidden muggers emerged from the shadows, two of them turning in the newcomer's direction. Simon's gaze followed those of his attackers and saw Nia hurrying in his direction, her backpack held before her like the world's most ineffective flail.

"Leave her alone," Simon growled just loud enough for them to hear. He felt the telltale surge of nausea as he spoke. This, combined with the fact that he had, by process of elimination, just told the muggers to attack him left him vulnerable to their advances.

They quickly turned on him upon realizing that they were unlikely to get the money they so desperately desired. The leader swung the wrench he was holding in Simon's direction, narrowly missing his chin and sending Simon sprawling after dodging the blow. The man recovered and reared back to deliver a fatal blow, but Nia swung her deceptively heavy bag. It connected with the man's temple, knocking him out instantly.

She turned to the three remaining muggers and said, "Who's next?"

The one with the most direct path to Simon, which came nowhere close to Nia, lunged in his direction. Simon expanded his awareness momentarily and sent the man's belt to oblivion. The immediate slackening of his pants simultaneously fouled his attempt to continue running and completely threw off his timing. Simon was able to easily coldcock him in the chin, knocking him out.

Simon turned back to the other men and had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Nia was swinging her bag like a woman possessed, and the two remaining muggers where literally falling over themselves to escape her wrath. She landed a blow on one of their shoulders, causing him to howl in pain. This was more than enough for them, and they took off at a dead run appearing for all the world like the devil himself was chasing them.

Nia whirled to face him, a triumphant grin on her face.

"That was fucking amazing," she exclaimed.

Simon frowned inwardly, stuck between thanking her for helping him and chastising her for endangering herself. He ultimately chose the former, realizing that, while he liked her very much, she was not his to protect. This internal debate happened instantaneously before he smiled at her warmly.

He said, "Thanks for the help."

"I think you're some kind of magnet for robbers, Simon."

"Apparently. Speaking of which, we should get out of here before more of their redistributionist friends show up."

Forty-Three

Simon hustled Nia in the direction of the taxi stand, but he could not help but smile at her excitement over the way she had helped foil a crime. They got into a taxi within moments and were quickly under way. This left the question of where they were going.

Simon said, "So, should I drop you somewhere?"

"Well, I know I said earlier I wanted to go back to my room and get changed. But I'm honestly not sure I have anything to change into which would suit your fancy hotel."

"We could stop by the boutique in the hotel. Or, if you like, we could go somewhere else. We don't have to go to the hotel restaurant."

"You'd just buy me an outfit?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged and said, "Of course. I'm not trying to show off. I just want to make this evening as easy as possible for you."

"Are you saying I'm easy?"

"Perhaps I'm saying I'm easy. Did you ever think of that?"

"All guys are easy. Put a pair of boobs in front of them, and they turn to goo."

"What?" he scoffed too loudly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't even aware you had whatever these boobs are you speak of."

"Right. Like your eyes weren't glued to my tits all afternoon. I suspect, were I to agree to allowing you to take me shopping for a little black dress, that you'd be able to tell the shopkeeper my dimensions."

"I would never venture to hazard a guess without tactile verification of said dimensions."

"Oh," she said with a chuckle. "I see. You need to feel me up just to verify what your thorough visual inspection over the course of several hours told you? Well, it'll take a lot more than dinner to get your hands on my girls."

"Of that, I have no doubt. But the aforementioned dinner is still somewhat undecided. Shall we choose another restaurant or avail ourselves of the boutique?"

"How about neither?"

"Very well, then. Perhaps another time."

She rubbed his arm, sending a jolt of electricity surging through his body, and said, "I wasn't cancelling our date, silly. Just suggesting that perhaps we could eat in your suite. I know you're not a big fan of crowds, and with the way you seem to attract street criminals I'm not surprised. And, while I appreciate the offer to buy me a dress, I couldn't possibly accept. This would seem to solve all our problems. But this doesn't mean I'm giving you the green light to put the moves on me. My momma didn't raise me to put out on the first date."

"Neither did mine. Not that it ever really came up. Ah," he said gesturing in the direction of the front window, "we seem to have arrived."

"This is your hotel? This place is gorgeous. I thought it was a nature preserve."

Simon remained silent, recognizing that any reply would likely lead to a contentious exchange about their wealth disparity. Besides, he agreed with her completely. The hotel was built in harmony with nature, rather than by supplanting it. Everywhere he looked, trees overhung walkways. There were also pools everywhere, both natural and manmade. His cabana was situated so that one had to go searching for any sign of other guests. As he led her in that direction, he hoped she would not become wary when she saw just how private it was. But he also had no intention of putting the idea in her head that she had something to fear. So, he merely directed her along the maze of paths. At one point when the lighting grew dim, he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her. He felt the now familiar surge of energy upon making contact with her skin, and he could not fail to notice that she started a bit at his touch before pressing her back against his hand.

Upon reaching his cabana, she looked around excitedly before returning to where he stood near the door. She said, "You know what? Credit where credit's due, I'm impressed. This place is amazing."

"I thought so," he agreed.

"What'd you have in mind for dinner?"

"I figured I'd call guest services and have them set up a table on the verandah. There's a nice breeze tonight so I suspect the bugs won't be too bothersome."

She snickered and said, "I meant, what kind of food?"

"Oh, lady's choice."

"I hope you like Thai food. I mean, actual Thai food. That's half the reason I came here."

"Who doesn't like Thai food," Simon muttered with a grin.

The hotel staff was very efficient in handling the details of their meal and they were sitting down less than a half hour later. A waiter had been placed at their disposal, which Simon hoped helped Nia feel as though he was giving her enough space. She had used the time while waiting for the food to clean up a bit, and he could not help but notice how she checked the door lock twice before turning on the water in the restroom.

As their first course was served, Simon gently asked, "Why Indochina?"

"Because it's so beautiful. And, honestly, because it's so foreign. I mean, it's not like going to Russia where if you don't speak the language, you're kind of fucked. But it's close. It's not all Americanized, like western Europe or the Caribbean. You really have to put in the effort. And it's so rewarding. I can't remember the last trip I took where every day was so beautiful. How about you? What you said before kind of made it seem as though you ended up here almost by chance."

"Sort of. I headed to Malaysia intending to use it as a waypoint. I'd honestly intended to go to Vietnam next."

She interjected, "Vietnam was astonishing. I mean, Thailand is great. But I'll never forget my time in Vietnam. Especially as an American. It was very... humbling."

"I'll bet. I still hope to go there someday. But I'm glad I ended up coming to Thailand. I'm not sure I would have come, other than by happenstance. And, as you said, it's beautiful here. Present company included," he raised his glass to her sincerely.

"Thank you," she murmured shyly.

He continued, "To finish answering your question, I just realized I'd reached the end of a chapter of my life, and I was looking for something different."

"You know, I just realized I never asked you where you're from. I mean, where you call home. I know you said you're from Texas, but I got the sense that you don't live there anymore."

"Indeed. I guess you could call me itinerant. A wanderer."

"Everybody has to have a home. I mean, I guess I'm between apartments right now but once I go back, I'll get my stuff out of storage and get a new place."

"How long did you spend planning this trip?"

She sighed and said, "About fourteen hours."

Simon took a sip of his wine to give him a moment to collect his thoughts. He could feel apprehension emanating off of Nia, but he was unsure if it was concern that he would press her for more details or that he would be anxious to steer the conversation toward a different topic.

He said, "What a coincidence. Once I decided it was time for a fresh start, I told those closest to me that I was leaving, and I got a taxi first thing the next morning. There were plenty of tears, from all of us, but we all knew it was for the best."

"My departure was somewhat less amicable."

Simon reached across the table to take her hand. She jerked slightly at his touch, but she did not withdraw her hand. He said, "I won't pry. But I'm here if you'd like to talk it out."

She looked at the ceiling for a moment before meeting Simon's gaze. She then sighed and began, "You ever been in a relationship with someone who you thought was a good person? Not perfect; not your soulmate; not even great. Just... good."

"Sure. I think that would pretty succinctly sum up my ex-wife. Although I think I thought she was more than that when we got married."

She quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "You were married?"

"Sure, for almost five years. We met in college and got married after she got her master's degree."

She eyed him warily and said, "How old are you?"

He winced inwardly at his mistake, remembering that he had aged himself down. But he had no intention of being dishonest with her. He said, "Thirty-three. Why? How old do I look?"

"About a decade younger than that. It's honestly one of the reasons I blew you off the first time we spoke. I figured you were some pervy trust-fund kid once you started talking about how much money you had."

"No trust fund."

"Meaning you're definitely a perv?"

A worried expression crossed his face, but this time it was Nia reaching across to take Simon's hand. She said, "I'm fucking with you."

He returned her smile and laced his fingers with hers. He said, "I take it the guy in question turned out to fall short of the 'good' threshold."

"Spectacularly. I had been working my ass off trying to get a release done before the sprint ended. I had been at work until midnight for six days running. But, on release day, we made a breakthrough and were able to knock off around three. I didn't call, figuring I'd surprise him in some sexy lingerie. Too bad my asshole ex-boyfriend had other plans."

"Was it another woman?"

"I wish. I mean, that would have sucked, but I could have handled it. I'd been so busy we'd barely had time to say hi in the hallway, much less find time to fool around. I could have rationalized him getting a little on the side. But not... that."

Simon squeezed her hand, prompting her to look at him with such intensity that he nearly flinched. She said, "Why are we here?"

Simon's mouth opened and closed several times as his mind flew into overdrive. Was she asking why he had asked her to dinner? Or was this a deeper, more philosophical question about the meaning of life or the true nature of the universe. Granted, Simon had started to develop some working theories on the latter points, but he was unsure if he could share his thoughts without using the First Language.

At length, she answered the question for him by asking another question, "Why did you ask me to have dinner with you?"

He sighed inwardly at not having to try to explain metaphysics, but he realized he was still left with answering the question men had struggled with since relationship forming stopped being compulsory for the fairer sex. He opted to go with the truth. "Because I think you're a fascinating person, and a beautiful woman. And I wanted to get to know you better."

Her gaze lost none of its intensity. She said, "You're not bothered by this?" pointing to her arm for emphasis.

He shook his head in bewilderment and said, "I'm confused. Why would I be bothered by your arm?"

"My race, dummy. You're white. I'm not. You don't think that means something?"

He sighed and said, "Of course not. Furthest thing from my mind. Why, do you think it means something?"

"It always means something. Always."

"It shouldn't. I didn't ask you here tonight because of your skin color, or in spite of it."

She regarded him intently for sixty-seven seconds, during which time he never broke eye contact. She then sighed and said, "I want to believe you, Simon. You really seem like a great guy. But so did Eli."

He said, "What did he do?"

"I told you I headed home early from work. When I got there, he was there with a couple of his drinking buddies from high school. When I walked in, one of them acted like somebody had farted in an elevator. I said hi and gave Eli a quick kiss before heading back to our bedroom to change. Apparently, his buddies thought we had thicker walls and that I wouldn't hear him when he asked Eli if I was a good enough fuck to justify selling out his race."

Simon squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Nia said, "Oh, it gets better. His other buddy said he hoped Eli was using protection so he didn't get any diseases from me. I came storming out of the bedroom and demanded that they get out. They left, eventually, but I had to threaten to call the cops. They just kept glancing at Eli, like they expected him to overrule me. He didn't, but he also gave me no backup. When they finally left, I turned to give him a piece of my mind, but he beat me to the punch. Gave me a ration of shit for throwing his 'friends' out. When I told him I'd heard what they said, he acted like it was no big deal. Said that was just how their families talked. When I asked him why he hadn't knocked their dicks in the dirt for talking like that, in my presence no less, he told me to lighten up. I guess you could say, things went downhill from there. After the cops left..."

"Cops?"

"I might have raised my voice."

"Oh."

"And thrown a remote. And a lamp. And a stock pot."

"Perfectly normal," Simon interjected with a grin.

"Shut up," she retorted good naturedly. "Anyway, once all was said and done, I was homeless but free of my racist adjacent boyfriend. I took a leave of absence from work, the timing was perfect because we'd just delivered this major release, and put my meager possessions in storage before heading to the airport. How about you? Hopefully your departure was a little less explosive."

"Definitely. I had been with Dani for a little over three months, but I realized our interests had diverged. After being in a relationship that was on life support for years, I guess I'm just a little more attuned to not playing out the string. Better to part on the best possible terms than allow things to fester until you resent each other."

"That's very enlightened."

He said, "Took a lot of pain to get there. I haven't spoken to my ex since I arrived at our house and found her with another man. She'd already told me she wanted a divorce, so I can hardly blame her, but that last encounter certainly had an air of finality to it. On the other hand, I still talk regularly to the last two women with whom I was in a relationship. I could honestly even say I love them." Nia's eyes grew wide, so Simon quickly appended, "As friends. Dani and Max are two of my closest friends along with Hank who I've known since college. They're also my business associates. The fact that I was intimate with them doesn't detract from how much we care for each other. If anything, it enhances the way we feel. But they're both in relationships now with other people. The chapter of my life where I saw them as romantic partners is over, but in all other ways I'm still as close to them as I ever was."

"That seems crazy. I'm not doubting you; I've just never known anyone who actually managed to pull that off."

"They're remarkable women. As are their partners. But that's all a very longwinded way of saying that while I ache for the pain that was inflicted upon you, my experience was thankfully far less acrimonious. I truly am sorry Nia. I have a bit of experience with the rancid underbelly that lies far too close to the surface of the American consciousness, and I'm sorry you had to go through that with someone I gather you had feelings for."

"I thought I loved him," she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Perhaps you did, at least part of him. Don't doubt yourself just because he was deceiving you. You loved the person you thought he was, not his true self. That doesn't mean you were wrong to love him. It just means he was wrong to mislead you."

"How do you know?" she whispered.

"I don't believe love is about knowing. You can't be certain about love. There has to be an element of faith. It's never a bad thing to love, Nia. Wickedness only comes from rejecting love offered to us or using the love of another to harm them."

"Who are you?" she whispered reverently.

"I'm not sure how to answer that other than a man who is having a wonderful evening with a beautiful woman."

She sighed, averting her eyes. She took several moments to look back in his direction. She started to speak several times before finally beginning, "Simon..."

"Yes Nia?" he whispered as he gazed into her strikingly beautiful brown eyes.

But he never got to find out what she was going to ask him as the annoyingly efficient waiter chose that moment to arrive with their entrees and the moment was lost.

Forty-Four

Simon awoke in a cold sweat, anxiously flailing his arms around his bed as though looking for someone. He struggled to regain his senses, the terror of the dream still holding sway even after he had struggled awake. Every night the nightmare was worse. There was now no question the woman in the dream was Nia, and that she was being tortured because of how his enemies knew Simon felt about her.

He angrily grabbed a towel, bypassing his normal refuge of a shower in favor of the beach. Upon arrival, he threw his towel down and dove into the surf. He swam out until he could barely make out the figures standing on the shore. As he swam, he felt the warm water begin to soothe the anxiety from his mind. But no amount of exercise could purge the terror in Nia's voice as their captors made their first vicious cuts.

He soon became aware of a cavitating noise growing louder. He paused in his frantic strokes and peered around him. Moments later, a long, narrow boat pulled up beside him with a worried looking man wearing a red swimsuit aboard, along with a helmsman.

"What the fuck are you doing, you dumb asshole?" the lifeguard shouted in Thai.

"I was swimming," Simon replied in the same language. "What's it look like?"

The lifeguard was momentarily taken aback, likely assuming that it was inconceivable that the clearly American tourist would speak his mother tongue. He quickly rallied, however, and said, "You can't be out this far. You're in the shipping lane. Hop in, and we'll give you a ride back."

Simon assented as he had had no intent to cause anyone any trouble. The lifeguard regarded him warily, likely concerned Simon would report his profanity, while the helmsman seemed to regard the entire exercise with a good deal of amusement. Simon sat stoically on the prow, not entirely unimpressed with how far he had managed to swim. They were a couple of kilometers offshore and it appeared it would take the meagerly powered craft several minutes to return to the beach.

As they cruised through the brilliant, cerulean water, Simon reflected on the nightmares he had been having, and all they portended. The thing that worried him most about the dreams was that he could not entirely dismiss the idea that he was now clairvoyant. He had certainly discovered stranger powers during his haphazard journey of self-discovery. But the possibility that his dreams were forecasting the future told him nothing about how to stop it. He had had the dream every night since meeting Nia, but it always started in the same place and gave no hints as to how they got there, or how far in the future this horrible event was supposed to be.

The other portent of his dream was much nicer to contemplate. He had to admit that his friends had been right. He had it bad for Nia. Their dinner the previous night had been nothing short of perfection. They had had hours of genuine conversation. And even when a silence happened, it felt natural and right. Nia certainly was not afraid to challenge him, even bust his balls. But it came from a place of friendship.

He knew she felt an attraction as well. As their evening wrapped up and he had accompanied her back to her hostel in a cab, the moment when they arrived was thick with tension. The urge to kiss her had nearly been overwhelming. And he knew she had felt it as well. But, at the moment of truth, he could not help but sense a twinge of hesitation, even panic, emanating from her. So, he chose patience and tenderly kissed her knuckles before bidding her adieu.

***

Simon rendezvoused with Nia just before noon at a street market. There was another moment of delicious awkwardness as they came together amidst the teeming masses where Simon's instincts screamed that he hug, or even kiss, her. They stood motionless, only a few centimeters apart as he watched her gaze scan down to his lips before returning to his eyes.

He broke the tension by saying, "Thanks for meeting me."

"Of course," she replied jovially. "What should we do first?"

"You hungry?"

"I'm honestly still stuffed from last night. But we can grab something if you'd like."

He shook his head and said, "I'm good. I honestly don't think I'll be hungry for several days after last night. So... shopping?"

"You're officially the first guy in history to say that with anything other than dread on his face. I gotta admit, it's kinda sexy."

Simon could not control the smile that spread across his face. He said, "I aim to please. Where to first?"

They spent the next several hours aimlessly wandering throughout the market, which was a motley combination of fascinating finds and laugh-out-loud worthy knock-off junk. Every time they spotted an insultingly obvious forgery, they would try to one up each other for who could make the worst dad joke. They were in constant contact, whether it was Simon's hand splayed out across the small of Nia's back or her hand gently falling upon his arm to redirect his attention. By the time Nia announced she would like to seek out food, Simon's arm was regularly wrapped around her protectively.

They chose a small outdoor cafe for a late lunch. As they were seated, Nia held up a bracelet she had allowed Simon to buy for her. At the time, she had joked that it was a very well-done forgery.

She said, "Thank you again for this, Simon. Now that I'm seeing it in the sunlight, I'm not so sure it really is a fake."

"Really?"

"Don't be coy with me, mister. How much was it?"

"I'm not sure."

"Come on, Simon. I'm serious."

He said, "I'm not sure what the conversion rate is to dollars."

"Cut the crap. How much?"

He took her hand in his and leaned close to examine it. He brushed her knuckles with his lips and whispered, "Something like... fifty thousand baht."

"What? That's over a thousand dollars."

"Forgive me," he said, leaning back in his chair but not relinquishing her hand. "Next time I promise to find something nicer."

"That's not what I meant. Jerk. You can't impress me with your money, Simon. Didn't you as much as say that you just got lucky in the market?"

He fixed her with a serious gaze and said, "I am not trying to impress you, my dear. Merely trying to share my good fortune with someone with whom I very much enjoy spending time. And, if I gave you the impression that my money was earned by chance, then perhaps I should be more specific. It was not luck, other than the good fortune to discover that I am a person for whom the market holds little mystery. Sometimes, I can look at a company, study their filings, and have a pretty good idea of how they'll fare. A few such correct guesses placed me in a position to be comfortable."

"Isn't that little better than stealing? I'm not trying to be all judgy, I just know that all the guys I see on the news, or hear about in my podcasts, who made a killing in the market strike me as the 'kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out' type."

He said, "The stock market is indeed something of the purest form of capitalism. It's not a whole lot different from the market we just left. People buy and sell things, negotiating the price along the way based on their personal understanding of the thing's value. The stock market works the same way, just with a lot more money involved. Enough money to change the fates of nations. But I wouldn't call it stealing. If I buy ten thousand shares of stock from someone for fifty dollars a share and then sell it a week later for sixty dollars a share, both the person I bought them from and the person I sold them to think they got a good deal. Also, neither of them is aware that I made a hundred thousand dollars in the process because it's entirely possible that they made just as much. People do lose money in the market, but not because I made money. The market isn't a zero-sum game. Tell me something, do you have a retirement account? Something other than a savings account or money stuffed in your mattress."

"Sure. My company has a great matching program. I'd be stupid not to."

"Has it increased in value?"

"Sure, the guy from my company said I'm up seven percent."

"That's the same thing I do, Nia. I just do it with more money, and higher stakes."

She looked thoughtful for a few moments before squeezing his hand. She said, "I'm sorry I called you a thief."

"It's fine, so long as you don't actually believe I'm a thief."

"Of course not," she replied quickly, shifting their hands so her fingers were laced into his. "You're a good man."

"And you're an amazing woman. So, how much longer do you intend to spend in Thailand?"

"I'm not sure. In hindsight, some of the excursions I've been doing may have been a reach. I'm not sure I have enough to head south anymore. Certainly not enough to make it all the way to Australia. And I'm not sure it's worth it to just go to Indonesia. I may just stay in Thailand for another week and then call it quits."

Simon was quiet for several moments as he tried to find the right words to make his pitch. He briefly considered using the First Language, but he felt the area was too crowded. He ultimately settled on just being open and honest.

"I really enjoy spending time with you Nia."

"I like hanging out with you too," she said sincerely.

"And... I'd really love to go to Australia with you." He paused for a moment, steeling his resolve, before adding, "My treat."

"Simon..." she gushed. "You can't do that."

"Why not? I'd love to go with you."

"I'd like to go with you too. But that's not something you do for a random person you meet in a foreign country. That's the kind of thing you do with..."

"With what?" he asked coyly.

"With a boyfriend," she responded firmly. "More like a long-term partner."

"If it bothers you that we're not in a relationship, that's easily rectified."

She huffed and said, "You want to date me?"

"I'd be honored."

"Just like that? We've known each other for what, a few days? We barely know anything about each other. I don't even know your last name."

"York," he said simply.

"Oh, like that guy in Texas. Cool."

"Yeah," he replied lamely, realizing that while he had no wish to endanger her with the knowledge of his past, he could never lie to her. He started thinking of how to best break the news of just how right she was, when she continued.

"But there's still so much we both don't know. And you want me to, not only be your girlfriend, but also travel with you a fifth of the way around the planet and let you pay for everything?"

"Again, I'd be honored. I like you, Nia. I like being with you. And while you're correct saying we haven't known each other long, I like everything I know about you."

"I like you too, Simon. But you don't have to do this. It's too much." She paused for a moment before adding, "There's easier ways to get in my pants."

He gazed up at the sky for a moment to calm his thoughts before saying, "I'm not trying to get in your pants, Nia."

"Right. I see how you look at me."

"You're an astoundingly attractive woman. And I'm very attracted to you. But that's not why I..." He paused again, mindful of not saying something he would regret. He finally looked back at her and said, "I regret that I've offended you, and I sincerely apologize. Please, forgive my impertinence."

Nia sighed and said, "You didn't offend me, you silly man. I'm the one who should be apologizing." She reached out to take both his hands in hers before continuing, "That comment about getting in my pants was a low blow, and you didn't deserve it. You've been nothing but a perfect gentleman. I'm sorry, Simon. Truly. And I'm flattered by what you said. A girl goes through her whole life wishing for some kind of prince charming to show up and sweep her off her feet, but when he actually shows up a lifetime of stranger-danger conditioning tells her to send him packing."

He gave her a weak smile and said, "So where's that leave us?"

"I'll think about your offer. Truly I will. But for now, I think I need to get back to my room. I've got to do some laundry today. And I think I just need some downtime."

"Fair enough. Can I see you again?"

She gave him a warm smile and said, "Of course. I'd really like that. How about I text you in the morning and we can work out the details?"

He dropped some bills on the table and stood, taking her hand as she stood. She leaned in and kissed his cheek unhurriedly. She then whispered, "Thanks for everything today. I had a wonderful time."

He looked into her warm brown eyes, feeling as though he could easily fall in and get lost within them forever. He smiled and said, "Until tomorrow, then."

She gave his cheek another quick peck before whispering, "I can't wait."

Forty-Five

Simon awoke gasping, once more the nightmare having invaded his rest. But, unlike previous mornings, he found no solace in consciousness. If anything, his unease was heightening. He rolled out of bed, holding his head and groaning as he tried to calm himself. He dressed quickly in workout shorts and a t-shirt before sitting motionless on the floor and slowing his breathing. He also slowed his heart rate to only a few beats per minute. This had the effect of calming his body, but his mind was still raging. He felt like something was happening beyond the nightmare, but he was at a loss for what could be causing such extreme unease.

As he sat trying to calm his mind, a thought of Dani sprang unbidden to the forefront of his consciousness. He had no vision, no premonition specific to her. But try as he might, he could not erase the feeling that she might be in trouble. He made a long arm for his phone on the bedside table and instructed his frequently more trouble than she was worth virtual assistant to place a video call.

Dani answered quickly, a bright smile on her face. She gushed, "Hey baby. Dig the new face. How's it going?"

He said, "Is everything ok? Are you ok?"

"Sure. I mean, we all miss you terribly. But otherwise things are peachy."

"You're sure? When's the last time you spoke to Jo?"

"A couple of days ago. Everything is fine. What's wrong, baby? You're scaring me a little."

He sighed, wishing his unease had started to dissipate after speaking with Dani rather than, if anything, intensifying. He said, "I don't know."

"You always know," she replied confidently.

"If only that were true, honey."

She regarded him intently, almost as if she could reach through the phone, though thousands of kilometers separated them, and comfort him. She glanced around behind him, as if trying to gage his surroundings, before saying, "Tell me what has happened."

He slumped back against the bed before telling her of his nightmares. She was unphased when he mentioned Nia, even though the context in which he spoke of her made it evident that he had feelings for her. If anything, Dani was overjoyed by this prospect, just as Max and Paige had been. When he reached the present day in his recap, her expression grew even darker than it had been when he described the events in the nightmare.

"I worry you may be right, my love," she said glumly. "We have no way to know that you aren't clairvoyant. If I had to bet, I would say the events foretold in your dream may indeed represent your future. Or..."

"Or what?" he snapped anxiously.

"Oh baby," she moaned. "I'm so sorry."

"What is it?"

"What if you can't shake the dream today because it's already started?"

Simon's blood ran cold at her words. He felt his heart start to race, and his vision began to narrow. His hands started shaking until he nearly dropped his phone. As his control slipped, the walls he put up to keep out the emotions of those around him began to drop and he felt as though he were hearing an orchestra warm up before a performance. Except, in his case, the cacophony never stopped getting louder.

"Simon!" Dani shouted through the phone. He stared at her without recognition. She lowered her voice and gently said, "Beloved, you must be calm."

His heart rate immediately slowed as he felt the completely foreign effect of Dani's compulsion. He glanced back at the phone, almost as though seeing her for the first time. She looked weary and a little pale.

He took a deep breath and said, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she replied softly. "It was no more than you did for me."

"I didn't compel..."

"Now's not the time, honey," she said with renewed vigor. "If we're right, then Nia is in danger. You must focus. You must find her."

Simon steeled his resolve, his face settling into an impassive mask as the walls he used to keep the world at bay snapped back into place.

He said, "Thank you, my dear. Now, I must go. I'll call you if I succeed." He gave her a parting smile and said, "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered, holding her fingers up to the camera as he disconnected.

Simon rushed out to the taxi stand and flagged a car to take him to Nia's hostel. When he arrived, he was dismayed to find a heavy police presence. He walked up to the closest policewoman and said in Thai, "What happened here?"

She shrugged nonchalantly and said, "I can't say. Please move back."

"Let me pass," he said, almost without a second thought.

The policewoman's eyes glazed over, and she waved him forward. When he arrived at the door to the hostel, he could hear crying inside. He hurried inside to find a middle-aged woman speaking to several people who were obviously with the police despite their plain clothes.

"I never saw them," she wailed. "It was early, around three. I don't know how they got inside. I just heard a commotion and when I went to check, there were a bunch of empty beds in the girls' dormitory, and everything was a mess."

One of the cops said, "Someone must have seen something."

The other cop said, "About half the girls are still here, but none of them are talking."

Simon quickly headed further into the building. He soon found a group of young women, along with several more uniformed police. Simon scanned the crowd, lowering his walls and allowing their emotions to wash over him. The fear he felt nearly overwhelmed him. Clearly, something horrific had happened here. He let the anguish wash over him as he sifted through the emotions he was receiving in search of an outlier. It took him several minutes, during which time several of the cops in the room anxiously asked him to leave. But Simon ignored them all. By the time he found the person he sought, there were four cops surrounding him, the largest of which was placing handcuffs on his wrist.

Simon kept his eyes on the person he had identified, calmly whispering, "You will release me and not trouble me further. I was not here."

The cops immediately uncuffed him and returned to their posts. Simon felt a twinge of discomfort having compelled several people at once, but he ignored it. He made his way through the crowd of seventeen women still wearing what passed for pajamas until he reached a youngish looking redhead who was seated on the floor with a bored expression on her face.

Simon said, "Come with me," in English.

The woman shrugged and got to her feet. Simon led her out of the crowded room and into an adjoining room which was unoccupied.

"You're not with the police, are you?" she said as she took a seat.

"That's correct. What happened here?"

"How the hell should I know? I woke up and all those girls were gone."

Simon glared at her, sensing the falseness of her claim with absolute certainty. He gritted his teeth and said, "You're lying. Where are they?"

She felt the first tendril of fear, but set her mouth in a frown and said, "Fuck off."

"Tell me where they are," he growled in the First Language.

"I don't know where they went. They told me they'd kill me if I didn't unlock the door."

"Who told you?" he asked, hoping she would continue talking without him using up more energy by compelling her further.

"A young guy. I met him when I was looking for..."

"I need you to take me to him. I won't let him hurt you. You must help me save them."

She nodded glumly and led him toward the door. They left through the back door, which was thankfully unguarded, and quickly grabbed a taxi. She led him toward a seedier section of town where poverty was on full display wherever he looked and the people walking the streets wore a uniform look of grim determination.

"What were you doing here?" Simon asked as he looked around.

"Trying to score," she responded simply. "It's just up ahead."

She directed the driver to stop at a nondescript building with a laundromat on the ground level. There were a handful of plastic chairs arranged out front, several of which were occupied by males who looked to be, at most, high-school aged.

"That's him," she whispered. "The one in the hat."

Simon turned to her and said, "Thank you for your help. I suggest you head straight for the airport and get your ass back to the states."

"Why?" she asked with a tremor in her voice. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever it takes," Simon replied as he stepped from the car before it sped away.

He approached the man quickly. His opponent started to get up, as did his three friends.

Simon snarled, "Sit," and they all dropped back into their chairs. He glared at the man with the hat and said, "Not you, dummy. Come with me."

He strode into the laundromat, the behatted man following close behind. He soon found a restroom and led the man inside. He peered quickly beneath the stalls to ensure they were alone. As he did, the man jumped him, sucker punching him in the kidney. Simon grunted in pain before turning back to the man. He was trying to preserve his energy, so he held off on compelling the man to stop. Instead, he opted for diversion. He slowed down his time sense, causing the man to appear as though he was pretending to be weightless in a science fiction movie from the seventies. He studied the man intently, gaining a full understanding of his undeniable wickedness. He pondered his predicament briefly before deciding on a course of action.

The man had pulled a knife after sucker-punching Simon and was currently in the process of trying to stab Simon in the gut moving at what, to Simon's sped up senses, appeared to be only a few centimeters per second. Simon carefully moved to the side and plucked the knife from the attacker's hand. He reversed the blade and held it before the man's midsection before allowing his time sense to return to normal. The man screamed in pain as he impaled himself.

Simon twisted the blade in the man's midsection and said, "Where are the women from the hostel? Why were they abducted?"

"I'll never tell..."

Simon cut him off and screamed, "Tell me!"

"They're upstairs. Fourth floor. The buyer will be here this evening. The ones that make the cut will be on a boat to Indonesia before midnight. You'll never..."

His words were cut off as Simon sent the man to oblivion with a thought. He looked down at his hand and realized he still held the bloody knife. He turned the knife as well, wondering grimly if it would find its former master in oblivion, before heading for the stairwell.

He encountered three guards during his ascent, sending each to oblivion once the wickedness flowing from their minds determined their complicity. As he arrived at the fourth floor, he could hear the suffering of the women inside. He stared at the door for a moment before turning it. When it winked out of existence, he spied three men beyond the threshold. Their momentary confusion at the door's disappearance gave Simon time to turn the first two men. The third got several shots off with his submachine gun before Simon turned him as well.

He hurried inside where he found a long hallway with multiple locked doors on both sides. He turned the doors to oblivion as he passed them. Beyond each was a fetid room containing between eleven and twenty-three young women. The women were all tied to bunk beds and were naked. He called Nia's name in each room but got no response. He expanded his awareness, the suffering of the bound women nearly overwhelming his consciousness. But above it all he could sense Nia beyond the end of the hall. He freed a few women in the first room, instructing them to free the rest and wait for his return.

He proceeded to the end of the hall where he found a deadbolted door which he quickly turned to oblivion. He stepped into a much nicer room with couches all along the walls and a small stage in the middle. He sought out Nia's presence again and sensed her beyond the room. He hurried through it to where he found fifteen women, including Nia. He started to rush to her side, but he heard an explosion behind him and felt himself plummeting toward the floor. He turned as he fell and saw a man hiding behind the door holding a smoking shotgun.

"One more move, hero boy, and I blow all their collars. I'm the only one that's got the code. So, if you do that fucking magic shit to me, they all die."

Simon glanced around the room and saw that each of the women was blindfolded and wore a thick, ugly collar which appeared to be made of silly putty. He barked, "Let them go," but he couldn't form the words in the First Language. Between the energy he had expended thus far, and the wounds he had sustained, he was too tired.

The man sneered at him evilly and said, "No chance. This here's the cream of the crop. Who cares if those other bitches get away? I'll make bank with what I got in this room. Now, if you'd be so kind as to finish dying, we can get on with our business."

Simon glowered at him and growled, "This is your last chance. Let them go. Or I'll fucking end you."

The man stepped over and backhanded Simon, who fell back onto the floor. Simon knew he was near unconsciousness, so he reached out and tried the only thing he had left. He reached out for the man and made a small turning motion with his wrist.

The man screeched in petrified terror as he dropped to the ground, his fifth lumbar vertebrae having been sent to oblivion along with its companion piece of spinal cord. His hands clawed at his back as he writhed helplessly on the floor. Simon flicked his wrist again. The man's hands flew to his face. His screaming, if anything, intensified as blood ran down his face from his now empty eye sockets.

"My eyes!" the man moaned in horror. "What the fuck did you do to my eyes?"

"The same thing I'm going to do to the rest of you if you don't tell me how to free these women."

"Bullshit!" the man spat.

Simon flicked his wrist again. This time, the man's hand grabbed for his crotch. His scream turned into a hoarse moan as his breath ran out. He rolled around on the floor helplessly, his now useless legs flopping uselessly below him.

Simon snarled, "Tell me how to free them."

"The code is two two four oh! Two two four oh! And then you can disconnect them."

"If you're lying to me, I'll remove you an inch at a time until there's nothing left but your useless fucking head."

"Two two four oh! I swear! Just don't hurt me anymore."

Simon crawled over in Nia's direction, his own legs not working any better than the captor's. He pulled himself up her body and whispered, "I'm here, baby. You're going to be ok."

She whispered, "Simon?"

Forty-Six

"We've got to get you to a doctor." Nia said desperately as a maelstrom of humanity swirled around their speeding taxi.

He shook his head wearily and whispered, "No doctors. Just get me back to my hotel room. I promise, everything will be ok."

"You've been shot, Simon. Like a bunch of times. And you might be paralyzed. Driver, take us to the closest hospital."

Simon gathered what remained of his strength and whispered, "I'm not so fragile as I appear, my dear. I can repair the damage to my body. I just need rest. Please trust me."

She looked at him queerly before saying, "Never mind, driver. Take us to the hotel."

When they arrived, Simon was able to convince the driver to use the service road to pull up close to his cabana. The driver helped Nia get Simon inside, leaving with a big smile on his face and twenty-five thousand baht in his pocket to help encourage his silence.

Nia helped Simon get comfortable on the bed, heedless of the stains his wounds left on the expensive sheets.

She said, "Ok, now what?"

He smiled and said, "Now, I must repair my body. It will take me several days, during which time I will sleep so deeply that I will appear to be in a coma, or even dead. I know it's a lot to ask, but I truly hope you'll stay, Nia. Please, enjoy this suite and all the hotel's accommodations. When I wake up, I promise to answer all your questions."

"You're him, aren't you? Even though you look nothing like him, you're somehow the guy that stopped the shooting in Texas, and then did God knows what in Oklahoma."

He nodded and said, "I will never lie to you, my dear. It was me. I promise to explain everything once I'm healed. Just promise me you'll stay. Otherwise, I'm as likely as not to wake up in a morgue."

She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

He whispered, "Thank you. If you have any questions, use my phone. Dani, Max or Paige will give you whatever help you need."

She bent over and kissed his cheek before whispering, "Get some rest, Simon. I'll be here when you wake up."

He nodded wearily and said, "I think I'm going to pass out now."

She kissed his cheek again and said, "Oh, and Simon?"

But he never heard her question as the sweet embrace of unconsciousness claimed him greedily.

***

He awoke with a feeling of serene contentment stemming from the first dreamless sleep he could remember since arriving in Asia. He consulted his mental clock and discovered that thirteen days had elapsed since his injuries during the escape from the human trafficker's lair. He reached out his awareness and found the cabana to be deserted. He sighed despondently upon discovering Nia's absence, but he quickly realized it had been unreasonable of him to ask her to stay. They had only been together, in aggregate, less than a day. And only one of their encounters was truly something he would consider a date. He knew that the tedium of encountering his, as near as makes no difference, lifeless corpse, day after day, would have tried the patience of even the most understanding person.

He climbed from the bed and headed for the bathroom, anxious to view his work from outside his body. The bullet holes in his chest and stomach still looked pretty terrible. He had focused on expelling the foreign bodies and fighting the infection so, from the outside, the wounds still looked just as they had when Nia had put him in bed. He turned around and looked at his back. There was a large, angry red splotch across his lower back where the shotgun blast had severed his spinal column, but he had healed the important parts. His legs seemed to work fine, and he seemed to have no loss of sensation. The most notable thing when looking in the mirror was that his body had lost its puffiness. He had been forced to expend a good deal of the padding he had built up when he last changed his appearance to fuel his rebuild. As a result, he had gone from appearing to be what his aunt would have called well fed to legitimately skinny.

He climbed into the shower, thinking to wash away the blood that surely still coated his body. But as the water streamed over him, he found no evidence of the expected viscera. He showered quickly but as he emerged, he spotted a large bowl on the bathroom counter with several sponges stacked beside it. He finished his ablutions and walked into the bedroom still toweling his hair dry.

"Oh," he heard a surprised voice say through his towel.

He pulled the towel away to find Nia walking into the bedroom with a stunned expression on her face.

"You stayed," Simon gushed.

"Well... sure. I mean, you asked me to. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm not sure. I only woke up a few minutes ago and you weren't here. I thought about it for a bit and..."

"Listen, Simon. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. And I'm not complaining, far from it considering the eyeful you must have gotten the last time I saw you. But don't you think you'd be more comfortable if you, you know, put some clothes on?"

He glanced down at his nakedness before looking back at her with a mixture of regret and humor. He managed to say, "Right."

"I'll wait in the other room," she said with a smile before retreating and closing the door behind her.

Simon dressed quickly before joining her in the living room. He sat next to her on the couch and sheepishly said, "Sorry about that."

"Hey, turnabout is fair play. After all, you got to see me in my skin."

"When?" he asked incredulously.

"When you rescued me and about a hundred other women from being sold into slavery? Perhaps you recall getting shot, and paralyzed in the process? Something from which you seem to have somehow miraculously healed."

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "That."

"Yes, that! Don't you remember? I was strapped naked to a chair with an explosive around my neck."

"I remember. I doubt I could ever forget. But I had honestly forgotten you were unclothed. I assure you I was too busy to notice your nakedness."

"Like I give a damn if you saw me naked. That was the fault of those assholes who grabbed me, not yours. It just sucks that that was how you saw me naked for the first time."

"I swear I don't remember anything."

"Oh, you silly wonderful man. I would not have been upset in the least if you remembered. I'm also not offended you don't remember. As you said, you had a lot on your plate. Especially considering the whole strategy of having the bad guys use your body for target practice thing."

"I'm sorry if I scared you with all the drama when we got back here."

"I'm not worried about that, Simon. I'm worried about the fact that you're obviously still wounded." She gestured to the wounds on his chest and stomach for emphasis.

"I wanted to emerge from withdrawal as soon as possible on the off chance you'd still be here. I focused on my spine and the infections. Plus getting the bullets out, of course."

"Obviously," she said with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

A silence stretched between them until Simon whispered, "Thank you for staying, Nia. It means the world to me."

"Of course," she whispered sincerely. She took his hand and said, "Thank you for saving me. Thank you for saving all of us."

"I'm only sorry I didn't get there sooner. I can't imagine what you must have gone through."

Another silence lingered until Simon squeezed her hand reassuringly and said, "You can ask me. Anything you want. I promise I'll tell you the truth. I'll always tell you the truth."

She sighed and said, "There's so much. I mean, I know you said you're the same Simon York who stopped that shooting and did... something... in Oklahoma. And I certainly have no reason to doubt you. But," she paused, clearly trying to organize her thoughts. Simon waited calmly, prepared to sit on the couch with her until the sun grew cold if that was what it took. At length, she looked into his eyes and said, "What did you say to me? In the car. I didn't understand the words, but somehow I knew exactly what you were trying to tell me."

He nodded and said, "What did you hear about the shooting in Texas?"

"Just that some good-ole-boy, racist maniac went to go shoot up a gay strip club, and you somehow stopped him. And you got shot in the process. Although, having met you, I can't figure out what you were doing there."

He snickered and said, "Congratulations. You're the hundredth person to make that observation to me." She frowned and dropped her eyes to her lap. He reached up to lift her chin with his knuckle and said, "I'm fucking with you."

Her smile returned and she playfully pushed his hand away.

He said, "I was at the restaurant next door. I saw the shooter pull in and get geared up, so I tried to stop him."

"Tried to, nothing. You did stop him."

"Sure, by distracting him with the enticing option of shooting me in the face and giving the nightclub patrons time to tackle him."

She squeezed his hand and said, "You should be proud of what you did. You saved countless lives."

"Oh, I am. I don't regret what I did. Or what has happened since. Despite the pain that seems to follow me wherever I go. But that event led to all this other crap."

"I don't understand."

He said, "I know, because I'm a crappy storyteller. After the shooting, I was given a quote gift unquote."

"I assume you mean the fact that you can heal yourself and make things disappear."

"Sort of. The actual gift was that I was taught a new language. The First Language, according to the angel who told me about all of this."

"Angel?" she asked skeptically.

"That's what he said. And I have no reason to disbelieve him. This language allows me to do all these things. Heal myself, send things to oblivion, speak any language, sense people's emotions, force people to do as I tell them. And goodness knows what else. It's only been a few months and I learn more about it every day."

She frowned and said, "So, in the car, you spoke to me in that language?"

"Yes. Sam, the angel, told me that this language is the purest, most powerful, form of communication. I spoke to you in that language in the car, not to force my will upon you, but to communicate as clearly as possible. When a person is receptive to the First Language, as you apparently are, they hear not only my words, but also my intent and my emotions when I speak."

"Can you do it again?"

He smiled and said, "I am very grateful, and happy, that you stayed."

She sighed in bone-deep contentment, sinking back into the couch with a goofy grin on her face. She took a moment to collect herself before saying, "Wow! That was incredible. What'd you say?"

"I said I was very pleased, and thankful, that you're still here."

"Fuck. I bet you could make a girl have a spontaneous orgasm if you told her she was sexy." His gaze went to the ceiling of its own accord. She slapped his thigh and said, "Holy shit. You can, can't you?"

"It's hard to say," he replied coquettishly. "But available evidence would suggest that such a thing might, possibly, be feasible."

"That's great! I'm tempted to tell you to do me. Oh wait, that came out wrong. I don't mean do me, like do me. Because there's no way you could make me cum. Like that. You couldn't make me cum like that. Dammit." Simon grinned at the way she fumbled for words. She said, "Anyway... what happens now?"

"That is up to you, my dear."

She said, "But... you still need to heal. And I'm not sure how these things work for you, but I suspect you also should eat something. I'm not sure if you noticed, but you lost like ten kilos in the last few days. That can't be good for you."

"All of that is true. But I believe the last time we were together before this unpleasant incident you said you would consider my offer."

"What offer?" she said with genuine confusion. "So much has happened that I don't even know what day it is."

He smiled and said, "Let me take you to Australia. Or anywhere else you'd like to go. I should be healed enough to go out in public in a few days. Then? The sky's the limit."

"I don't know Simon."

He said, "I want to be with you, Nia. However, and wherever, you'll have me."

"Does this mean you still want to date me?"

"Very much so. But..."

"Wait," she said placing her fingertips on his lips. "Tell me in that other language. What'd you call it? The First Language?" Simon nodded. She said, "Tell me that way and I'll know everything I need to."

He pulled her hands to his mouth, gently kissing her knuckles, before saying, "I want to share my world with you and teach you the things I have learned. I want to be with you. I want you to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see each evening. More than anything, I want to make you happy."

She remained motionless for several moments. Simon could feel waves of happiness pouring from her as she processed what he had said and let how he felt about her infuse her soul. When she opened her eyes, a tear rolled gently down her cheek. She looked at him in a way that made his heart melt.

She smiled shyly and said, "Yes."

Forty-Seven

"What do you think of this one?" Nia asked as she emerged from the cabana's second bedroom.

"I think it's beautiful.," Simon replied from the couch.

"That's what you said about the last five outfits."

"And I meant every word. You would make a diving bell look great, Nia."

"Are you like this with all women? Or just women with whom you're in a relationship?"

"Certainly not the former, nor even necessarily the latter. I'm not putting any moves on you; I'm merely being honest. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Listen," she said as she took the seat next to him on the couch. "I've done video calls with both Dani and Max. I know for a fact that they're gorgeous. As is Paige, who I haven't yet figured out if you've slept with."

"I haven't," he interjected. "But not for lack of Max and Dani trying."

"That's so odd. I can't imagine pushing my partner into someone else's bed."

"Nor I. Perhaps it has something to do with their bisexuality. Both are now in relationships with women. Or, in Dani's case, more than one woman."

"I think it has more to do with you. They worship you, especially Dani. I think she's convinced the sun only comes up every day because you've issued instructions to that effect. Whereas Max merely thinks that you're a super genius. And super gentleman. And super stud. Paige seems to concur with the former two points. You must be one hell of a boyfriend."

"Or a truly gifted con artist.

She raised her hand to caress his cheek. She whispered, "I don't think you're a con artist."

The pull toward her lips was as seductive as it was urgent. Simon was powerless to resist their siren song. He leaned toward her, sensing excitement and desire flowing from her. Her lips parted ever so slightly. She licked her lips quickly. Her eyelids grew heavy. She sighed almost inaudibly as their lips neared.

Just before their lips met, a chime rang from the direction of the door to the cabana. Simon sighed, intent on ignoring it. He moved toward her again, but the door chimed again. An urgent knocking followed.

Nia sighed in frustration and said, "You better see who it is."

Simon groaned and said, "This better be important."

He opened the door to find a member of the hotel staff bearing a wheel-mounted rack of clothing. She smiled nervously and said, "We took the liberty of pulling our remaining items in your esteemed guest's size."

"Oh really," Simon snapped glumly.

Nia came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist. She said, "Don't bite her head off, Simon. They're just trying to be helpful."

He said, "I know. But their timing is the suck. You might as well come on in."

The clothing rack was brought in and placed in the cabana's second bedroom and the embarrassed porter quickly departed. Simon sat down on the couch glumly and glared at the door as it closed.

Nia sat next to him and said, "Hey. Don't sweat it. I saw a few pieces of lingerie on that rack. Play your cards right, and I might try them on for you."

He smiled and said, "Sorry. I know I'm acting childish. It's just..."

She said, "I know. And I agree. But don't worry, my gallant savior. The moment was lost, but I promise that you're going to get the girl. But, for now, I think we need to finish trying this stuff on and get packed. When did you say the plane is leaving?"

"Whenever we get there."

She smirked and said, "Right. Private plane. Got it. Well, no use wasting the whole day, am I right? Now, what shall I try on next?"

Simon grinned and said, "You are beautiful in everything. But there's one word that I can't seem to get out of my head."

She laughed and said, "Men! Even when you're a superman, you still have a one-track mind. Fine, I'll try on one piece of lingerie for you. But the rest will remain a secret until later."

Later that afternoon, after a hectic few hours of shopping and packing, they were having lunch at the hotel's restaurant. Nia had been astonished when Simon ordered, as near as makes no difference, everything on the menu.

After the waiter left, she said, "Is this a rich guy thing? Where you try a bite of everything on the menu to decide what you want to eat."

"Hardly. You remarked earlier on my weight loss. That happened because I had to consume a not insignificant percentage of my body to sustain me while I rebuilt what was damaged. Also, the biomass needed to rebuild what was damaged had to come from somewhere. I am, to put it mildly, famished."

"Well why in hell did we spend all morning lounging around while I changed clothes?"

He grinned and said, "I rather like watching you change clothes."

"Are you still going to be like this after we have sex?"

"I would not presume to know the future, or make any assumptions about our relationship, such as it is..."

"I already told you, Simon. Mission accomplished. You got me. The only reason we haven't... well... everything yet is because we've been kind of busy. Now answer the damn question."

He said, "Most definitely. The day I stop appreciating a beautiful woman, don't even bother checking for a pulse. Just throw dirt on me, I'm done for."

"You're very handsome, Simon. I feel like I've never said that in the midst of all of your praising of my looks, but its true. More importantly, since we womenfolk aren't quite so wrapped up in looks, you're a wonderful man. Next to my daddy, you're the best man I've ever met."

"I'm honored," he replied quietly. "What are they like?"

She said, "My parents?" He nodded. She continued, "They're great. Their families have been in northwest Ohio since Reconstruction. They're in their early fifties now. My daddy works for one of the big three as an engineer. He commutes up into Michigan five days a week. Momma was a teacher before they had me, so she does substitute work now that they're empty nesters. They're not rich, but not hurting. Go to church every Sunday, and give me shit for not going."

"Did you leave home for school?"

"I went to college for a couple years, but it just wasn't my scene. I'd been into computers since before I started primary school and I started writing code in middle school. One of the main reasons I left school was that I got the job I was going to school to get. Got hired as a software engineer and never looked back. Been at it for a decade. Can't remember the last time someone asked if I had a degree. Best thing about technology is people don't care about anything but results. How about you?"

"I grew up in Texas. Single child. My parents moved to Florida once I started college. They're still there, far as I know."

She said, "Did you have a falling out?"

"Not really. They were real hard on me in high school. My grades were never good enough. Once I got into college, they informed me that I was on my own to pay for school. Said their parents never gave them any handouts once they reached their majority, and they had no intention of ruining my life by spoiling me. I was pretty pissed at them over it, but I guess their plan worked. I got a job and a few scholarships, and more than a few loans. Managed to get through school. Even managed to pay off the loans before I hit my thirtieth birthday, with my ex's help. But the side effect was that I sort of lost my affinity for my parents. I'd talk to them when they called, but I never felt compelled to reach out to them. After a while, they stopped calling. I don't think I've spoken to them in over a year."

She gasped and said, "They didn't call after the shooting?"

He shrugged and said, "Not that I know of. But then again, why would they? They never thought too highly of me. They likely assumed it was some other Simon York. And it's not like Casey or Hank would have called them. Casey had probably only spoken to them a half a dozen times in her life. And Hank actively despised them for the way they, as he put it, abandoned me."

"I'm so sorry."

He said, "Don't be. The relationships I've formed in the last six months are far more meaningful than anything I ever had with my parents. Or, for that matter, my ex. My family is my friends now."

"You mean Dani, Max and Paige? Plus, of course, the mysterious Hank."

"And you," he said, taking her hand.

"I've never known anyone like you, Simon. I feel as though I could tell you anything. But, until a few minutes ago, I knew next to nothing about your upbringing."

"You know all the important parts. You know that I will never hurt you, and that I care for you a great deal."

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him affectionately, her hand slowly rubbing his thigh. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. He could feel her nervous anticipation, like a racehorse before the gates open. He could feel her nipples hardening against his ribs, through the filmy fabric of her sundress and the thin linen of his shirt. He looked down to find her looking up at him expectedly. She licked her lips and nodded almost imperceptibly. He began to lean down as their eyes closed in unison.

Just as their lips touched, Simon heard their waiter exclaim, "Sorry for the delay."

Simon groaned as Nia pulled back, but he did not miss her snicker at their misfortune. They sat up as their waiter filled their table with plates, heedless of the moment he had just ruined. At length, he finished and retired.

Nia said, "We nearly made it that time."

Simon said, "What is it they say about horseshoes and hand-grenades?"

"Such sweet anticipation. But, for now, you should eat. Based on what you told me, you must be starving."

"Very well, my dear. But, one day, your luck will run out and I'll have my kiss."

She grinned wickedly and took his hand. She said, "You'll have a lot more than that, handsome. As for luck, I think I hit the jackpot."

An hour later, their taxi pulled up to the private terminal of the airport. They were led through the building and out onto the tarmac where a medium-sized plane awaited them. They were led onboard and introduced to the flight crew. The plane began to taxi before the flight attendant took their drink order, and they were in the air before they had their drinks.

Nia said, "This is amazing, Simon. Thank you."

He grinned happily and said, "Anything for my Nia."

"Oh, I'm yours now? You plan on claiming me in some kind of bullshit alpha male ritual?"

"Of course not. But I needn't claim you in order for you to be the sole object of my affection, and the person who I am passionate about making happy."

"Good answer," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder once more.

As their plane broke through the clouds and turned south, Simon leaned closer to Nia. She reached out to take his hand, bringing it up to her lips and kissing the back of his hand sensually. He groaned at the sensation and pulled her closer.

She whispered, "Please don't kiss me, Simon."

"Huh?"

"I want so badly for you to kiss me. More than I think I've ever wanted anything. But, when you kiss me, I'm not going to want to stop. I'm not going to be able to stop. And I don't think you'll want to either. I want you so desperately, so fully, I think I can literally taste it. I've been thinking constantly about how exquisite it will feel when you fill me up the first time, how you'll taste, the way your tongue will feel against my skin. I've been able to think of little else since we were interrupted in the cabana. If you kiss me, that poor stewardess, who's sitting just a few meters away and trying not to stare at us right now, is going to get an eyeful because I'll rip your clothes off. I know it's torture, but I think we have to wait until we get to the hotel in Australia."

He smiled, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head gently. He whispered, "As you wish."

She said, "Get some sleep baby, I know you need it. We'll have all night to pleasure each other."

Forty-Eight

"It's so empty," Nia breathed as they flew over northwest Australia on approach to Perth following a fuel stop in Jakarta. "I mean, intellectually I know this isn't the case, but it seems like it's undiscovered country. We're almost ready to land, and just look at it. No lights, anywhere."

Simon said, "I know. I remember seeing a show once about western Australia and it's not at all uncommon out there for people to own pieces of land the size of states back home. And all they do there is raise cattle. Hence, no lights."

"Amazing. We should go out there and see what its like. That is to say, if you want to."

He took her hand and said, "This is our vacation, honey. Not mine. We'll do whatever we want. Together. Just don't worry about the money part. I assure you that I won't."

"I'm trying. Really, I am. But I've got a lifetime of programming working against me. Either from when I was younger and my folks were encouraging me to be frugal, or more recently when I was footing the bill myself and had to make every dime count."

"I get it. I was in the same boat. We can be as frugal as you like. I just don't want you to feel like you owe me anything or like I need to be in charge."

She shook her head and said, "I don't. It just takes a bit of getting used to. But I just know we're going to have a great time together."

Once they landed, they were informed that their hotel had sent a car for them. The ride to the hotel passed quickly, the streets being almost deserted due to the late hour. Upon arrival, they were whisked up to their suite on the top floor by a bellhop who retired without even waiting for a tip.

Simon stared at Nia across the expansive room, with nothing but a coffee table separating them. He glanced around the room nervously, noting the city skyline in the floor-to-ceiling windows which covered an entire wall. He licked his lips nervously, unsure of how to proceed. Nia mirrored his action before haltingly heading toward the wet bar.

"Do you... um... want a drink?" she stammered.

He said, "I'd love one."

"I'd ask if you want your usual, but I have no idea what that is."

He shrugged and said, "I'll have what you're having. To tell the truth, alcohol doesn't really affect me anymore, so I usually just go for something tasty."

"Well, I sure as hell need one."

She started making an elaborate concoction. He could hear the clinking of glasses caused by her shaking hands. He crossed the suite and took her upper arms in his hands, stroking them slowly.

He whispered, "It's ok, Nia. There's no pressure."

"I don't feel pressured by you, Simon. I just don't want to mess this up."

"Neither do I. Tell you what, why don't we watch a movie?"

She sighed and leaned back against him. She murmured, "I think that sounds wonderful. Why don't you pick something out while I go change?"

Simon briefly thought about what kind of movie he should choose, recognizing this moment as one of potential monumental significance. He made his choice and queued it up on the screen before doing a sweep around the suite to make sure everything was in place. He then checked his pocket to be sure that the condom he had stashed there had not disappeared since he last checked for it two minutes prior.

He heard a noise behind him and turned slowly to find Nia emerging from the bedroom and, for the second time in his life, he was struck dumb. She was wearing lingerie that, on anyone else, would be considered demure. It would probably more accurately be described as a nightgown, with its baby doll style and the fact that it, technically, covered her from her bust to her thighs. The top of the outfit had a deep V, broken up only by crisscrossing pieces of satin between her full breasts. But the material below the A-line was so sheer that it was practically see-through as evidenced by the almost non-existent panties he could clearly see covering the junction of her thighs. The way her tawny skin shown through the pale white garment made her seem all the more alluring.

"My goodness," he breathed reverently.

She smiled shyly and turned in a slow circle, showcasing her spectacular derriere, delightfully bifurcated by her thong.

He muttered, "Does that thing come with a warning label?"

"Yes, actually. It read 'might cause extreme sub equatorial swelling'. Were they right?"

"Most certainly."

"Prove it. Its no fair to expect me to sit here in this thing when you're still dressed to go outside. Come on, let's see them britches."

Simon grinned and said, "I see your game. None of my clothes fit anymore. They're as likely as not to fall off."

"Fine by me. Now hop to it."

He spared no time in removing all but his boxers before returning to the couch. She took a seat next to him and glanced up at the screen.

She said, "Did you intentionally pick an all-black movie?"

"No," Simon said with mock defensiveness. "I picked this because its fucking hilarious."

"You're sure it has nothing to do with the chick with the great knockers saying, 'The royal penis is clean' in the first two minutes of the movie?"

"Always seemed like a pretty inefficient way to clean a penis to me."

"Fun though," Nia murmured coquettishly.

They settled in to watch the movie. The part of Simon that was anxious to get to the main event was quickly overshadowed by the realization that he and Nia had spent so little time merely coexisting. They had had several dates and spent a good deal of time together. And he had greatly enjoyed every moment. But Simon discovered there was something profoundly comforting about just being with Nia. No expectations; no itinerary; no weighty conversation; just sitting together and enjoying each other's company. It was something which had grown stale with Casey before their wedding date arrived, and which Simon had routinely missed as he listened to friends and coworkers talk about how much time they spent with their significant others.

As the movie wore on, their touches became more bold, and their attention on the screen lessened. Nia's hand, which had been drawing small circles on his knee, began to drift up his thigh. Simon's caressing of Nia's shoulder slid slowly down her back to her hip before audaciously gliding to her well-rounded ass.

She sighed at his touch and slid her fingers beneath the leg of his boxer briefs. He groaned at the sensation of her delicate touch on his inner thigh. His hand roamed up her body to cup her breast. Her breath caught at his touch and her chin dropped to her chest. He reached out and cupped her face with his other hand. When she met his eyes, he saw a mixture of desire and affection that nearly took his breath away.

He sank toward her with agonizing slowness, a tiny part of him wondering what would interrupt them this time. As if reading his thoughts, she grinned up at him and whispered, "They'll be no one to stop us this time."

Their lips met anxiously, desperate to finally meet after so much build up. Her hands wound around his midsection, feverishly pulling him closer as her lips parted to welcome his tongue. He swallowed her sigh, tilting his head to deepen their kiss even further. The taste of her ignited a fire in his belly and he knew at once that he would never get enough of her.

She climbed into his lap, cradling his face with her hands and wrapping her legs around him. Their kiss slowed as their connection solidified and the anticipation faded. Their tongues languidly explored new territory. There was no questing for dominance between them. Instead, it was a shared moment of perfection that they gifted each other.

Simon dropped the remaining walls he used to guard his awareness and let everything Nia was feeling flow over him. Gone was any apprehension, any doubt. All that remained was tenderness, excitement and a not insignificant amount of lust. At the same time, he projected the affection and attraction he felt toward Nia, along with his happiness being with her, into their kiss.

Their lips broke apart and she gasped, "I can feel you."

"I should hope so," Simon murmured, giving his hips a tiny thrust into her heated core.

"I didn't mean that, although that feels amazing. I meant I can feel how you feel, your emotions. Or I could while we were kissing. Quick, kiss me again."

Simon gladly complied, claiming her lips once more and losing himself to the exquisite sensation of the softness of her lips and the slick heat of her tongue. He felt her excitement surge as he projected his thoughts by the simple act of giving silent voice to his thoughts using the First Language.

She broke the kiss again, staring down at him with unbridled desire. She slid the straps of her nightgown down her arms, leaving only her erect nipples to keep her garment from sliding down to her waist.

"You've been waiting to see these since we first met," she whispered sultrily.

"I want to see all of you; taste all of you. I want to fill my senses with you."

He leaned forward and nipped the top of the cup covering her breast with his teeth. He slid it slowly off her breast, revealing her dainty nipple and her tiny, pebbled areola.

"So fucking perfect," he breathed before taking her nipple between his lips.

She threw her head back, groaning in pleasure. He suckled from her like her breasts were the only source of nourishment left in the universe. The moisture from her molten core soaked their undergarments and he could feel her outer lips cradling his manhood through the fabric. He switched to her other nipple. He felt the hail of the beads at the end of her braids against his hands on her back as her head whipped from side to side in ecstasy.

He released her perfect breasts, pulling her face down to taste her lips once more. She reached between them and eagerly freed his cock. She stroked his length a few times before coating the pad of her thumb in the precum welling up from his tip.

She broke their kiss gasping and fiercely whispered, "Condom. Now."

He reached for his shorts and managed to retrieve the foil package. She snatched it from his hand and tore it open before rolling it over the head of his cock and down his shaft. She fed one of her nipples back between his lips before lining his manhood up with her entrance.

He moaned in pleasure as she sank onto him with tantalizing slowness. When their centers met, her sigh of contentment joined his own. She felt perfect, like they were a matched set just now finding each other.

He released her nipple and smiled up at her angelic face. He said, "You're so beautiful, Nia. And you feel fucking amazing."

"So do you," she whispered as she began to move.

She bounced slowly in his lap, her eyes closed tight and her head bowed to place countless kisses along the crown of Simon's head. He moved in concert with her, eagerly fulfilling even the tiniest desire the moment it flashed through her mind. A flash of awareness told him of her love for hard and heavy lovemaking. But, before he could act, he understood that tonight was not a night for rattling the chandeliers and flipping the furniture over. After so many days of anticipation, tonight needed to be more tender, more loving.

He wrapped her in his arms and stood with a strength which belied his slight frame. She squealed softly in surprise but then resumed the movements of her hips, slowly fucking him as he carried her into the bedroom. When they arrived, he laid her down on the bed without allowing her velvety channel to lose his cock.

He kissed her tenderly as he thrust his manhood deep within her. He held himself there for several moments as their kiss deepened. Her hands slid down his back to his ass. She opened her legs wider and pulled him even further into her soaked core.

"Fuck, you feel so good," she whispered throatily.

"You have no idea how good you feel, honey."

"Give it to me, baby. I want you to cum for me."

He whispered, "You first."

"It's ok. I can't cum from penetration. I just want to feel you cum inside me."

"You will," Simon whispered determined. "After."

He dropped his head to her breast, sucking the nipple between his lips as he began to move within her. He started slowly, using long strokes that nearly escaped her velvety embrace before plunging back into her heated depths. His rhythm increased with almost robotic precision, all the while he felt Nia's pleasure slowly build. He knew she had been sincere when she told him to seek his own pleasure, but that left him all the more determined to satisfy her first.

He constantly made tiny adjustments to his movements looking for the perfect angle to achieve maximum pleasure for her. He reluctantly released her nipple and raised up onto his knees giving him a spectacular vantage point to witness the amazing things that happened to Nia's supple body each time their centers met. He lifted her slowly from behind her knees until he was able to stroke her G-spot with the head of his cock each time he bottomed out.

The affect was immediate. Nia's labored breathing turned to moans of pleasure and wetness surged around Simon's cock. He maintained that position for several minutes, allowing her arousal to build slowly. When he felt her nearing the precipice, he slid a hand slowly down her thigh. She watched his hand's progress with baited breath, simultaneously willing it to speed up and enjoying the teasing anticipation. When his hand arrived at her center, he gently teased along her outer lips while avoiding her clit.

"Please," she panted, trying to thrust her clit into his fingers.

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you to cum for me."

"What else?"

"I want to cum with you," she moaned. "Please, baby."

Simon slowed his movements dramatically, the tip of his cock caressing Nia's G-spot almost languidly with each deep thrust.

"How are you doing this to me?" she breathed.

He whispered, "Your body knows what you want, beautiful. I need only to listen to it."

"Fuck," she sighed contentedly.

He dropped down to kiss her passionately as she neared her peak. She held onto him like a life buoy, her hands fisted into his hair. Their tongues slicked together, and they swallowed each other's moans. He knew she was almost there, so he eased the control he had been exercising to hold his own orgasm at bay.

Their lips parted. He gazed down at her with unrestrained passion and whispered, "You are so beautiful."

He felt the surge of pleasure begin deep within her core and rapidly wash over the rest of her body. Her inner walls rippled along his manhood, pleading for the seed which he happily provided. Their shared orgasm continued to build like a runaway reaction, each lover's pleasure contributing to and increasing the other's. Wetness surged from her core, bathing his midsection. Countless eruptions of his seed threatened the structural integrity of the condom separating them. Their kiss deepened as they wordlessly professed their exploding affection for each other.

He was surprised to feel the pull of the ethereal plane. He allowed part of his consciousness to ascend and was shocked to behold the spectacular beauty of Nia's soul. It was like nothing he had ever seen, ever even dreamed of. She was so beautiful, his eyes ached to look upon her. Her gaze fell upon him and filled him with serenity such as he had never known. He knew he could not touch her yet. But he knew in that moment that he would stop at nothing to be worthy of joining with the woman he now knew with absolute certainty that he loved beyond measure.

Copyright © 2022 Jake Lazarus

All rights reserved.

This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author (except for the use of brief quotations in a review).

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, business, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.