 Stratos’s Apartment, Siena - July 3rd, 1999

Rosalie Øllegaard was in a terribly good mood, all things considered.

The woman sauntered down the hall of the Siena flat humming softly to herself and thinking about the excitement of the previous day.

She could feel the smooth silk of her short nightgown swish back and forth across her bare skin, bringing her mind back to one exciting event in particular.

Raymond Reddington had snuck into her room, teased her into a frenzy,  and robbed her not only of speech, but of her panties.

If she focused, Rosalie could still recall the feel of his heavy shaft rocking against her sensitive flesh without mercy, driving her right to the edge.

God was  that  a thrilling and excruciating interlude  .

Rosalie had tossed and turned for hours afterward, trying to key down her roaring libido. She finally succumbed to her need in the early morning light, rocking against her trembling fingers until she was gasping and writhing beneath the sheets, her mind firmly fixed on the man down the hall.

The young innkeeper grinned at the thought of her wanton behavior, a small giggle escaping her chest without warning. She planned to regale her early morning activities to Red as soon as possible, looking forward to the predatory look which would darken his handsome features.

No, her cheery demeanor had nothing to do with her upcoming date with Raymond Reddington, nor his late night panty raid…or at least, that’s what she told herself.

Thankfully, Rosalie reached her bedroom without encountering anyone. The house was quiet. The late-night festivities had left many of their household sleeping in, which suited her just fine.

She strode casually into her bedroom, hanging her towel on the hook before wandering about the room to begin packing some of her things. They would be leaving Siena the following day for Greece, as Stratos had business which needed Raymond’s attention.

Rosalie was pleased at this, for she very much liked the debonaire Greek and his boyish charm. He was endlessly polite and terribly funny, a true joy to be around.

More than anything, however, she loved seeing the obvious friendship between Stratos and Raymond.

They were quite the sight, chortling and swaggering about like a pair of bantam cocks in a hen yard. The women wandering about Siena certainly took notice, giggling and whispering behind their fans to each other as the men dealt, bet, and bribed the week away.

Rosalie couldn’t blame them.

The men were certainly handsome, not to mention their old fashioned charm. Their gate and stature held an aura of power and masculinity which beckoned the attention of every female in a few block’s radius. Rosalie had pointed this out one afternoon, laughing merrily as Stratos preened under the comment.

There were endless stories being bandied about between the two.  Most were meant to tease or embarrass each other for the group’s enjoyment, however, some were truly wild and enthralling.  Rosalie had listened to each and every one, giggling at their shenanigans and commiserating with their foibles.

Another giggle escaped her as she pulled out her overnight bag and set it on the bed. From the corner of her eye, Rosalie noticed something out of place.

A white card lay propped up on the bed, plain and unassuming.

The woman plucked it from the coverlet with a wide grin.

Written in a familiar, neat script, was a note from Raymond.

 Third Bay, Fifth Shelf, White Bow.

 -R

Rosalie sighed excitedly, the message sending her scurrying for the lounge.

Raymond’s deep, soothing drawl could be heard within, making the little woman’s stomach flip as she silently turned the handle.

The quiet room was glowing pink in the morning sun, casting a rosy light over its sole occupant.

Red sat behind the large desk, talking with an associate, pinching the bridge of his nose. His shoulders were tense and his usually warm voice had become clipped and sharp.

A rueful smile twitched at Rosalie’s lips. He looked awfully surly.

An overwhelming playfulness came over her, determined to give the man something to smile about.

She strode casually toward the third bay of books, garnering his undivided attention.

Raymond eyed the scantily-clad form as she sauntered along without a care in the world, his voice dropping lower of its own accord while he watched her hips sway this way and that.

She was in the same negligee as the night before, and from the looks of it, hadn’t sought out any lingerie after he had unceremoniously stolen hers. The knowledge made his cock twitch.

Rosalie stopped in front of the requisite bay of books and cast her eyes upward. There, on the fifth shelf, was a thick tome with a white ribbon tied in a neat bow.

She reached up onto her tiptoes, wiggling slightly as she tried to reach the book.

Raymond couldn’t help the small smile playing on his lips.

“No, go ahead, I’m listening,” he lied to the man on the other line. Red was far too preoccupied with the hem of the negligee inching its way north, ready to give him a long-awaited peak at the prize beneath.

Having a good idea where his eyes were, Rosalie spread her legs minutely, enjoying the hell out of the sharp inhale which issued from behind her.

‘ Damnable little minx, ’ he thought. He longed for a glimpse of the little pink treasure residing just out of view. Tilting his head to the side, Red leaned till he was all but lying his head on the desk, mentally willing the garment to move just a fraction of an inch higher.

Rosalie let out an amused scoff as she realized there was no way she could reach the book. She danced about on the tips of her toes, attempting to gain purchase on the elusive item, blissfully unaware she was driving a certain fugitive out of his mind.

Taking pity on her fruitless pursuits and his throbbing erection, Raymond stood, leaving the phone face up on the desk. His associate continued to blather on about some nonsense issue in Singapore while Red’s attention shifted to more exciting possibilities.

“May I assist?” He rumbled, appearing behind her and catching her off guard.

Rosalie leapt away from the shelf, bouncing off his solid chest. “Oh, um, yes. Please.” She added, her expression sheepish.

Rather than reaching up for the book, the man bent down and wrapped his arms about her thighs. Rosalie squealed her surprise when he lifted her skyward.

Her hands dropped to his broad shoulders, stabilizing herself with his solid frame.

Raymond smiled up at her, enjoying the feel of the soft, warm bundle in his arms.

Rosalie looked down, pleased to find him in a better mood. Forgetting her task for the moment, she bent and placed her lips to his. Her nimble fingers stroked through his hair, sending goosebumps along his neck.

Raymond responded in kind, deepening the kiss and sucking her bottom lip between his teeth.

The action pulled a tremulous noise from his captive, her hands moving to run up and down his back and shoulders.

Red hummed his contentment, swiping her kiss-swollen lips with his tongue.

Rosalie opened to him, moaning when the muscle danced playfully with hers.

“Red?” A voice could be heard calling quietly from the phone.

“He’s busy.” The woman sighed against his mouth wrapping her legs possessively about the man’s waist.

Red chuckled darkly and pressed her into the bookshelf. His mouth continued to explore hers, enjoying each little mew and sigh he garnered along the way.

“I take it you found my note?” He questioned heatedly, carrying his lips down her neck.

“Y-yes,” she stammered as his tongue flicked languidly back and forth over the spot where her neck and shoulder met.

“ Raymond… ” He had found a sweet spot, and the woman positively squirmed in praise of his discovery.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” His sharp teeth nipped the same spot as a cascade of goosebumps rippled along her skin.

“ Yes ” She hissed her pleasure as his warm hands gripped the backs of her thighs. The tips of his fingers were so close to her sex, it made the wet little alcove throb painfully.

“You’re burning up, little dove.” Red purred knowingly, his fingers digging into the giving flesh of her bare backside.

He was trying like hell to hold himself in check, but her body was calling his name. He could feel the heat rolling off her, and the knowledge her panties were tucked safely in his jacket pocket only added to his delirious desire.

“...Ray?” came the voice from the phone.

“Duty calls,” pouted the woman, her tongue still rolling sensually against his.

“It can damn well wait.” Insisted Raymond, fully intent on the task at hand. He deepened the kiss, groaning his pleasure when Rosalie nipped him in response.

Her little hands stroked his neck, helping them both to cool their ardour. Slowly, they shifted to a softer, gentler exploration.

Rosalie’s nose nudged Raymond’s chin, exposing his jaw and throat to her affection. She peppered the stubble with soft kisses, humming her contentment as she did so.

The affectionate gesture soothed him further, quieting the roar of his arousal to a soft purr.

Red realized as a book shifted behind her, he was rapidly developing a habit of pinning the woman to any and all available surfaces. The thought made him laugh, the warm sound vibrating against Rosalie’s lips pleasantly.

“What, pray tell, has you so amused?” She asked, reaching a hand up to card lazily through his hair.

“I seem to have developed a fondness for backing you into hard objects and ravishing you against them.” He noted, shifting more of her weight to his arms. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Rosalie snorted her amusement. “I am perfectly fine, and as a matter of record, I very much  like being stuck between you and any available hard place.”

“Is that so?” He barely held his intrigue, eyeing her rosy lips and pleasantly disheveled curls with a serious facade. “I didn’t realize you enjoyed such antics.”

Her long lashes batted coyly up at him. “If you stop pinning me to things, Raymond Reddington, I’ll be terribly cross with you.”

Red chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “Duly noted, little dove. We’re still on for tonight?”

The dark grey eyes sparked with excitement. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

She reached for the book with the bow above her head, pulling it out gingerly.

“ And  a wealth of knowledge about...” she glanced at the cover, “...ranunculus?” Her amusement grew by leaps and bounds.

The quip made Raymond laugh, a deep, sultry sound that rumbled joyously against the young innkeeper’s skin.

“Your wit is dazzling, but I have to see to a bit of business today.” He grumbled, turning and shifting her carefully back to the floor.

“Something thrilling, no doubt, judging by your phone call.” She teased, gesturing at the phone still lying on his desk.

The associate still hadn’t given up, echoing Reddington’s name again as both fugitives sniggered.

Rosalie slid down Red’s tall frame, her night dress riding up ever so slightly.

Raymond made the mistake of looking up into the mirror hanging on the wall behind them, catching an unadulterated peek at one firm, rounded cheek of her backside. The sight made him ache all over again. He silently cursed his lot in life as he stared dazedly at the expanse of pristine, soft skin.

 Damn it all to hell.

Raymond could feel his traitorous body responding all too readily to the view.

Another giggle escaped Rosalie as she attempted to shift her attire. She moved to shoo Red’s hand away, but he dodged her expertly, his large palm sneaking past to cup the exposed mound.

Rosalie arched into his grip, a soft groan issuing from her throat.

The man grunted his desire, watching his masculine fingers curl into the delectable curve, gripping it possessively.

“I can’t take much more of this.” He vowed, eyes never leaving the exquisite view in the mirror. He kneaded the supple curve once more before reluctantly shifting the hem of her negligee back down and kissing her temple.

“I’m picking you up at seven.” He decided.

“How about six?” Rosalie joked, hoisting her book more securely in her arms.

“Perfect.” Red responded casually, smirking at the surprised look on her face. “It will make the tedium of today go by so much faster.”

Rosalie beamed at him, reaching on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. “It’s a date.” She sighed.

“Go, read your book, have some coffee and relax today.” He advised, tucking an errant curl behind her ear.

Rosalie’s eyes softened as she looked at him, his suggestion sounding delightful. “I’ll bring you a cup.” She offered, heading for the door.

Red nodded his thanks and picked up the burner phone with a sigh. “Sorry Max, dozed off for a moment. You were saying?”

Rosalie stifled a laugh as she stepped out into the hall, catching part of his poor cover story.

She set about returning to her room, intent on getting ready for the day. She admired the book’s cover while she walked. It held illustrations of several flowers including bluebell, lilac, and tulips.

The young woman broke out into another grin as she tugged on the bow, eager to see why Raymond had lead her to this particular text.

Rosalie padded into the room, nose in her book, heading for her wardrobe; the woman had just stepped over the threshold when something caught her attention.

She took one step backward out of the closet to see a large assortment of flowers in a tall vase waiting on the dressing table.

The sight elicited a delighted gasp from Rosalie, who wasted no time in crossing the room to examine the beautiful array.

It was truly a gorgeous arrangement, brimming with black-eyed white anemone, lush silverston roses, and palest blush ranunculus. The flowers were magnificent, creating a unique and fragrant bouquet unlike anything Rosalie had received before.

The book Raymond had given her suddenly made much more sense.

It was an encyclopedia of sorts, showing illustrations of hundreds of flowers, various information about the genus, its uses, and the meaning behind each bloom.

Another white card was tucked in the page titled, ‘Anemone.’

 My Dear Rosalie,

 A little token to entertain you in my absence.

 Looking forward to tonight,

 -R

The note made Rosalie’s entire body flush and her insides squirm excitedly.

Before she could settle into her intriguing task, Rosalie dressed and went to grab a large cup of coffee per Raymond’s suggestion.

Horace and Dembe were already eating breakfast in the kitchen. Both men grinned knowingly at the chipper woman when she appeared.

“Good morning, boys.” She practically sang, pinching Horace’s side and giving Dembe a playful peck on the cheek.

“What have I said about trying to corrupt Dembe?” A deep voice accused from the doorway.

Rosalie squeaked, turning and beaming at Raymond, who practically prowled into the kitchen. She pulled out another cup and poured him some coffee, holding it out with a smile. “Long time no see.” She crooned.

He took the cup gratefully, taking a long sip of the hot liquid as he flashed her a wink.

Rosalie glanced surreptitiously up at him. “I forgot to say so earlier, because, well…”

“My tongue was in your mouth?” Red supplied in a low purr, cocking his head confidently. He had rather enjoyed their rambunctious interlude against the bookcase.

Horace looked up, utterly appalled, as Dembe’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

Rosalie blushed scarlet and nodded, her dark eyes dancing with mirth. “I wanted to say thank you for the book, and the flowers, they’re absolutely exquisite.”

Raymond’s lips twitched into a warm smile as he wrapped himself around her feminine frame. “I’m glad they’re to your liking. I trust you’ve unearthed the purpose of the book?”

“I have, you clever man. You certainly know how to keep a girl occupied.”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” He laughed, thoroughly enjoying the double entendre. His eyes flitted up to meet the dark, chastising orbs of Rosalie’s guard. “Give her enough books to build a castle.” Raymond lied smoothly, his eyebrows quirking upward as he gave the man an innocent nod.

While still very much in the guard’s line of view, Red met Rosalie’s gaze and mouthed emphatically, ‘ Not at all what I meant.’

The innkeeper covered her mouth, trying desperately to smother her laughter.

“You’ll have to tell me what you’ve learned tonight.” He continued, enjoying her amusement.

“Is there going to be a quiz?” Rosalie quipped, tentatively nuzzling his jaw, unsure how he would feel about showing such affection in front of the boys.

Sensing her train of thought, Raymond leaned forward, encouraging such familiarity. “Multiple choice-” his breath hitched as she placed her lips to his pulse point, “and a few essay questions.”

Horace mimed vomiting into his bowl, earning a scowl from his charge.

Waylaying the upcoming battle, Red refilled Rosalie’s cup and nudged it toward her.

“Read your book and relax today.” He reminded, “I’ll be here at 6 to pick you up.”

“Is this your way of telling me to behave?” She teased with an impish eyebrow raise.

Red grinned, kissing her once more before shooing her back toward her coffee. “Ready, Dembe?”

The young man turned and nodded, ruffling Rosalie’s curls before striding after him.

The innkeeper quickly snatched her coffee and headed for her room.

“Rosie,” began Horace, feeling he should talk with her about Reddington.

“ No ” She responded merrily, pattering out of the kitchen.

“No?” Horace called after her, leaning back in his chair.

“No.” She agreed, “I have a puzzle to solve, you have bacon to eat. We’ll talk on the way to Jacopo’s for lunch.” Her voice echoed down the long hallway before the man heard the snap of her door closing.

The bodyguard shook his head, laughing reluctantly. The little hellcat was on a mission, and she’d be damned if he got in her way.

In the quiet of her room, Rosalie finished the last of her packing, leaving out clothes for the following day, any necessities, and most importantly, her dress for that night. The opaque garment bag hung over the door to the wardrobe, waiting patiently.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by Stratos’ voice. “May I come in?”

The woman answered in the affirmative, as the older man strode casually into the room. “Good morning, Stratos,” she smiled warmly, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.” His boyish gaze turned to the bouquet on the dressing table, “I see Raymond has taken to the task of pursuing you with gusto.”

Rosalie blushed, carefully bringing the large arrangement  to the console table at the end of the bed. “He has, he’s been very thoughtful.”

Stratos beamed at the blooms, reaching out to cup one of the pale purple roses. “The man always has been a hopeless romantic.” He chuckled roguishly, “I was sad to hear you two won’t be joining us for dinner in Onda tonight; but upon hearing the reason why, I was terribly pleased.”The young woman tittered nervously, “Yes, we have a bit of a prior engagement.”

The statement made Stratos laugh heartily. “From what I’ve heard, it's been a long time coming.”

“My goodness, do Dembe and Horace do anything but gossip like little hens while Raymond and I are distracted?” She asked, garnering another laugh from him.

“No, and you two have been very...distracted while you’ve been here.” teased Stratos, “I have learned a great many things.”

Rosalie shook her head for his amusement.

“I am glad you two are pursuing a bit of romance.” The man murmured thoughtfully, still eyeing the flowers. “I’ve known Ray for quite some time, but I have yet to see him have this simple joy others are so easily afforded.”

Rosalie’s eyes softened at the statement, unable to school her expression any longer. “I’m terribly nervous.” She confided in a quiet voice.

Stratos dropped his hand to his pocket, grinning broadly at her expression. “Raymond loves puzzles. Intricacies and duality are endlessly appealing to him, as they are part of him. This comes out in spades when he is showing affection for someone. He will learn you. Will know your every want, what it takes to win your heart, to earn your trust. From what I understand, you are cut from the same cloth.”

“Oh?” she asked, not sure what he meant.

“Dembe has intimated you have the same proclivity for knowing the man’s wants before he gives them voice.”

A pleased smile broke across Rosalie’s face, confirming the tale told by Red’s bodyguard.

Stratos’s eyes softened at her reaction, finding it quite endearing. “I thought so. You have nothing to worry about piccola, you will be in the best of hands. If anyone is worthy of such a lover, it’s Reddington.”

Rosalie’s cheeks flushed a vibrant pink as she took in his words.

“Now, being my clever self, I have unearthed where Ray is taking you.” Chortled Stratos in a conspiratorial tone, “Do you have a gown?”

Rosalie nodded with a small laugh, striding over to the wardrobe and unzipping the garment bag, nervously awaiting the man’s verdict.

Stratos loped gracefully over with a look of boyish delight. He reached out a hand to touch the smooth silk, a deep chuckle building in his chest. “Oh, piccola,” he sighed, reaching an arm around Rosalie’s shoulders, “Try not to kill him, will you? I very much enjoy working with the man.”

Rosalie’s eyes widened fretfully, but Stratos reassured her, “I only jest, it is perfect for tonight.”

He zipped the bag closed, still chortling to himself. Raymond would certainly have his work cut out for him with the young woman. Stratos wasn’t sure she even realized how much the beautiful gown was going to torment him.

Stratos stood clapping his hands together once before patting Rosalie’s cheek fondly. “I must go assist your love interest with a bit of business, I’ll ensure he’s back in time for your date.”

Rosalie nodded and thanked him as he strode from the room, leaving her to relax in peace.

Finally, she was able to pull out the book Raymond had given her.

Climbing onto her bed, she took a sip of her coffee before setting the book into her lap and opening it. She turned to the section on anemone, the crisp page showed the flower in a variety of its colors. The ones in the arrangement were alabaster white except for the dark bluish black of its stamen.

According to the book, anemone was symbolic of anticipation, the excitement of what was to come.

The passage made Rosalie smile broadly.

There certainly was a great deal of anticipation for tonight. She was practically vibrating with impatience, willing the clock to move faster.

Rosalie allowed the tip of her finger to trace the illustration in the book before reaching up and touching the real thing. The petals were silky soft and curled ever so slightly upward like little teacups.

Excited to see what other meaning lay within the beautiful bouquet, Rosalie selected another flower at random.

Tucked prominently in the lush bundle were several tea roses Rosalie recognized as Silverstons. Silverston roses were of a pale purple color with a unique silvery hue.

Having grown roses at Break Maiden, Rosalie knew these were incredibly difficult to find. She couldn’t help but wonder why Raymond went through all of the trouble of getting them.

Her curiosity roaring to the fore, she turned to the section on roses.

Roses were a classic symbol of love, but there were very different meanings ascribed to each color. White meant innocence, while red meant love and desire. Rosalie thumbed through the colors, finally locating purple.

Purple roses were a symbol of enchantment, of love at first sight.

Rosalie’s heart squeezed at the thought.

She had known Raymond was an old fashioned romantic, it was evident in the way he carried himself and how he interacted with women. What she hadn’t known was there was a huge difference between observing those behaviors and being on the receiving end of them.

Raymond had taken something as common as flowers before a first date and elevated the whole tradition by choosing blooms that not only looked stunning together, but also had a wealth of meaning laced into them. She was overwhelmed and delighted by the level of intricate detail the man had put into the simple gesture.

She found the symbology of the remaining flowers and greenery without much ado, and by the time she had reached the last one, her eyes were shining with emotion.

She now had a better understanding of why he had been so adamant on dating her. This was who he was, at his very foundations. Raymond was kind, chivalrous, affectionate, and thoughtful. He had been so deliberate on which flowers were in the bouquet and had led her to a book on their meanings so his intentions with her were very clear.

He didn’t just want to bed her. He wanted a relationship, in every sense of the word.

He was willing to wait until the moment was right for them, and not one second earlier. He could see their relationship being so much more than just physical desire, and he wanted Rosalie to understand his intent before tonight.

 Raymond Reddington wanted to woo her , she realized with a grin.

The young woman leaned back into the pillows, gazing in misty affection at the blooms. It was a stunning arrangement, and Raymond had put so much thought and romance into the gesture, it made her heart thrum with appreciation.

She turned and snagged her satellite phone, dialing the familiar number.

Dembe’s calm voice echoed over the connection. “Rosalie.”

“Dembe, is he already in the meeting?” She asked, nibbling her bottom lip.

“No, we just arrived.” He held the phone out to Raymond, “Your lady calls.”

His tone was teasing, but the young man immediately stepped out of the vehicle, giving them a moment’s privacy.

“The florist didn’t sneak anything crude in there like carnations, I hope.” The rumbling voice carried through the line, garnering a tinkling laugh from the other end.

“No, no carnations.  I just wanted to say thank you again.” Her voice was soft and warm, “The flowers are just lovely, and so incredibly thoughtful, and...”

He could hear her fidgeting on the other end.

“And...I just cannot wait for tonight.”

The man beamed triumphantly. He had indeed been quite persnickety about the flowers in the arrangement, seeking to tell her of his intentions and his excitement in his own way. The florist had been rather irritated with him by the end of it, truth be told. Raymond had a sneaking suspicion the man didn’t get many three a.m. calls demanding silverston roses and silver brunia.

He had still gotten the rare blooms, calling in a favor to an associate from Warsaw. He was terribly pleased she was so appreciative of the gesture as a whole.

“Shall we move it up to five?” He quipped, delighted to hear that tinkling laugh again.

“Yes, please.” She sighed, wanting the day to fly by.

Raymond perked up at her immediate agreement, for he hadn’t expected it. A fond smile lit his features as he realized he’d been waiting for a partner like this for some time. Someone who didn’t question or manipulate their emotions and just voiced what they felt. Someone who was open with their affection and their desire.

His deep chuckle resonated through the connection, making Rosalie bite her lip and grin at the ceiling.

“We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?” He crooned softly.

“Too long.” Rosalie agreed, enjoying the mental picture of Raymond in the sleek black sedan, murmuring intimately into the phone.

Dembe knocked twice on the window, alerting him to the arrival of the other party.

“I’ll let you get to your meeting.” smiled Rosalie, hearing the telltale noise. “Good luck.”

“Until tonight, my dear.”

The connection ended and Raymond peered thoughtfully down at the phone.

It had felt so delightfully normal, so incredibly ordinary.

Sending her flowers, kissing her that morning, her calling simply to be sweet and to wish him luck, it made Red’s insides squirm pleasantly.

The man wondered if this was what other people experienced on a day to day basis. Having someone of his own was quite nice.

Like the early days of their partnership, Raymond was marveling at how easily he could get used to having Rosalie with him in such a capacity.

Stepping out of the car, he handed the phone back to Dembe. “Would you mind being our detail for tonight? She’s much more comfortable when it’s just the three of us.”

The younger man grinned at him. “Not at all, my friend.”

**********************************************************************************************************************************************

 Stratos’s Apartment, Siena - Early Evening

“Where’s Rosalie?” Raymond asked, removing his hat and stepping into the cool kitchen.

Horace’s dark eyes glanced up momentarily before returning to his book. “Upstairs getting ready, we got back from Jacopo’s an hour or two ago.”

“Anything eventful to report?”

Man’s tanned face crinkled in amusement. “Not unless you want me to spoil the surprise of her attire tonight, which Rosalie has assured me she will have my left bollock for if I do.” He continued, “She and Marquesa were making a few last minute alterations.”

Raymond winced. “Is Marquesa the one I have to thank for that damn romper?”

Horace let out a barking laugh. “She certainly had a hand in it.”

“My God, I’m going to come back from this date a broken man, aren’t I?” Red asked, the joyful tone in his voice incredibly amusing.

The bodyguard looked up at him, his jaw tight and his lips pursed. “Rosalie… Well, she certainly doesn’t do anything halfway.” He bit back a grin, patting the man on the shoulder before heading to check on his charge.

“She says go with the taupe suit, by the way.”

Red nodded, pouring himself a drink before heading upstairs, his heart pounding like a freight train within his chest. He pulled the light suit from the closet, laying it out on the bed before heading for the master bath.

Once he was showered and his libido had keyed down, the man set about getting dressed for their date. As he donned a fresh shirt, he settled into a more purposeful mood.

He and the little blonde down the hall had come a long way to get to this point. It was the culmination of a long year’s worth of fighting what now seemed inevitable. She was his, and he was going to prove it tonight.

Raymond had strode confidently over the lines they had drawn, intent on wooing the woman in every sense of the word.

He would become her lover, but his ambitions didn't stop there.

Red wanted to be her closest friend and confidant.

He wanted to convince Rosalie she was safe with him.

He wanted to show her the man he held carefully guarded within, for her to well and truly know him.

He wanted her to see the depths of love to which he was capable.

It was a different Raymond Reddington who donned the suit tonight, and he was determined to win her love in return.

Down the hall, Rosalie fussed in the mirror once more, not entirely convinced of her attire. The dress she chose was daring, even with the modifications. She and Marquesa had shortened the straps to bring the neckline higher, and lowered the split in the leg so her entire hip wasn’t on display. She thought the garment fit her very well, she just hoped the fugitive down the hall would like it too.

With a nervous sigh, she grabbed her clutch and headed for the door.

Horace was stood in the doorway, chortling at her fussing about like a hen.

“Oh, shut up.” She growled, second guessing the dress all over again. “I’ve just realized in the past ten minutes, I haven’t been on a date in a few years.”

“How the hell did you go without a date for several years?”

“It wasn’t  several  ,” Rosalie snipped her pique, “and I was rather busy, mind, building my network and making sure I didn’t  die .”

Horace shook his head ruefully, “Imagine, forgoing sex for the sake of business.”

“I never said-” Rosalie halted her statement, catching herself before she said something too revealing.

Too late.

“ Really ?” her guard practically howled, his surprise evident. “Florian Armel’s sainted pride and joy, a wicked little rapscallion like the rest of us?”

The ridiculous statement made Rosalie burst out laughing.

“You know what? I’m rather proud.” Confessed Horace, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Rosalie scowled at this, “What on earth gave you the impression I was such a prude?”

“I…” The bodyguard looked confusedly at her, “I have no idea.”

He wrinkled his nose, suddenly looking like someone’s old babushka. “Oh saints alive, is this where I find out you’re some kind of insatiable she-devil? If I find you and Reddington in every available corner-”

The young woman scoffed indelicately, applying a quick swipe of mascara in the mirror. “There are much more exciting ways to find out I’m an insatiable she-devil. All of which can be avoided by you learning to  knock .”

Horace grinned wolfishly, “Just try not to give the old man a heart attack, ok Rosie?”

Her eyes narrowed moodily at him, “He’s not old, and I’m not trying to kill him.  Why  does everyone keep saying that?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” quipped the bodyguard, ignoring the rhetorical question. “With that dress, I could see this evening going either way.”

Rosalie looked nervously down at her attire. “Oh no... It’s not too much, is it?”  She fidgeted about, turning this way and that in the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.

“The dress is perfect.” Soothed Horace, patting her shoulder fondly. He stood beside her, catching her dark eyes in the mirror with his obsidian ones.

“It takes a very particular woman to stand toe to toe with Reddington. The woman wearing this dress? She is the only woman I would believe capable of walking at his side without living in his shadow. It’s perfect Rosie.”

The young innkeeper rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes misting slightly. “I just want tonight to go well.” She confided, her nerves getting the better of her.

Horace nodded knowingly, “It’s going to be fine, this is just like those late night excursions you’ve been engaging in for the past year. The only difference being, this time you  know  you’re dating.”

The woman laughed at the little jab, patting Horace’s cheek in thanks. He was right, she was being ridiculous.

Rosalie’s nerves didn’t return until it was time to meet Raymond. She strode through the hall toward the staircase, her heart hammering in her chest.

When she descended the stairs into the foyer, it was not to the playful, facetious Raymond Reddington who always accompanied their late-night shenanigans.

This man was someone else entirely.

He looked at her with a new emotion, something honest and impassioned.

They had lowered the barriers separating them, opening the door to the possibility of what they could be, together.

It was a new beginning, frightening and thrilling at the same time.

Raymond understood what Horace had meant the moment Rosalie stepped out onto the top of the stairs.

His gaze travelled hungrily up her form, utterly shell shocked at her beauty.

The dress was a magnificent creation, perfect for an evening out on a warm, Italian summer night. It had a clean, simple cut with no beading or embellishments. A small v neckline cradled her ample breasts while thin, crossing straps left her delicate shoulders on full display.

What truly floored Red was the color. The silky material shone softly, like liquid metal.

It was as if someone had poured rose gold over her form, following the nip of her waist into the full curve of her hips in one uninterrupted river of glimmering fabric. A generous gap parted on one side, allowing a tiny glimpse of her beautiful legs with every step.

The overall effect was positively stunning.

“ Exquisite .” Raymond breathed, watching her saunter gracefully toward him, a warm smile playing at her lips.

“Too much for a first date?” She asked, dropping her eyes to the garment.

“No.” Red assured her, reaching out and pulling her close. A low, rumbling growl snuck out of his throat as he ran the backs of his fingers up and down her waist.

Raymond’s adam’s apple bobbed as he caught the outline of a tight little nipple perking up against the fabric. His mouth watered at the sight and his thumb immediately sought out the stiff peak, brushing it this way and that.

Rosalie gasped softly, pressing into his outstretched hand

“You’re going to torment me all night, aren’t you?” He asked with a grin.

He couldn’t imagine a sweeter form of torture.

“Just a little.” Sighed Rosalie, her tone playful as she arched closer to his skillful hands.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************

The drive took only a few minutes, the airstrip they had arrived on earlier that week materializing around them.

“We’re taking the jet?” asked Rosalie, her surprise evident.

Raymond cocked his head, smiling serenely at the bird. “We are. I don’t know about you, but I have no interest in Jacopo, Stratos, or any other residents of Siena joining us tonight.” The green eyes shifted to her, glinting in amused sincerity.

The young woman flushed with pleasure. She had truthfully been worried about such an occurrence, and had hoped Raymond would pick somewhere out of the way, but this…this was unprecedented. The effort he was putting forth to ensure their date was perfect was so overwhelming it made her tummy flutter.

Rosalie’s lips broke into a bright smile, “My, my, you’ve thought of everything haven’t you?”

The man beside her let out a sensual chuckle. “I told you last night, I have been looking forward to this for quite some time.”

The simple comment made Rosalie’s stomach backflip all over again as Red stepped casually from the car.

He came around to her door, opening it in a gentlemanly fashion before holding a hand out to her.

The deep grey eyes moved up his arm, her hand reaching out to grasp the offered support.

The action warmed Raymond from the inside out, urging him to pull her close once she exited the vehicle. “I adore you.” He crooned, nuzzling her cheek in open affection while his strong arms snaked around her curvaceous frame.

Rosalie giggled, kissing his cheek gently before looping her arm through his. “The feeling is very much mutual, darling.”

The pair moved around the car and headed toward the plane.

Dembe was quietly grinning at his shoes, attempting to give them some semblance of privacy.

Rosalie reached out and threaded her other arm through his. “Come along, sweetheart, you have the unfortunate job of being our third wheel again.” Her tone was teasing, and she was glad to see the young bodyguard fall into step with them, laughing softly at her joke.

“I’m happy to assist, but if you start making moon eyes at each other I’m leaving you for the cockpit.”

“Too late.” Rosalie grinned slyly at the younger man before batting her long lashes at Raymond.

Red simply chuckled, reaching out to thumb the woman’s chin.

They ascended the short set of stairs into the jet, laughing merrily. Raymond became distracted halfway up, finally laying eyes on the back of the woman’s dress.

The thin straps coming down from her shoulders crossed once before attaching at the waist, leaving the delectable majority of her sunkissed back bared to his gaze.

Dembe prodded his backside impishly, fully aware of what had drawn the man’s attention.

Red shrugged, he certainly couldn’t be blamed for his pause, the view was unbelievable.

Dembe closed the jet’s door before heading quickly for the safety of the cockpit. His knowing eyes flitted softly up to the amorous couple, finding them completely focused on each other as he sequestered himself with the pilot.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I adore Dembe?” Rosalie sighed, glancing about the empty cabin.

Raymond let out a barking laugh. “Perhaps you’d rather he be your date?” The man feigned a pout, determined to turn her attention away from his young, strapping bodyguard.

Rosalie’s slender arms snuck around his torso to stroke up and down his back.

“No.” She murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry little purr. “I’ve been waiting for the man in the hat, and no other will do.”

The assurance brought a sly smile to Red’s lips, made all the more broad by a pair of feminine eyebrows waggling playfully at him.

“That’s better,” he rumbled, cupping her cheek. His lips met hers, caressing her slowly as he held the woman close.

Rosalie responded in kind, matching his languid strokes and sinking into the warmth of his embrace.

Raymond moaned into her mouth as his hands ran up her back, stroking the expanse of satin skin. He had longed to touch her like this, ached to feel her soft, feminine form beneath his roughened palms.

The soft touches sent shivers along Rosalie’s body, coaxing her deeper into his hold. A needy little mew hummed against his lips as her hands wriggled their way beneath his jacket to run over his chest and back.

He felt her smile against his mouth when she bumped his firearm, the action reminding him of something.

“I hesitate to ask where you’ve hidden yours this time.” He growled, running his hands along her torso. Surely, there was nowhere for it to go?

Rosalie but her lip, “I- I don’t have mine tonight, there was no possible way I could hide it under this.” She confessed, adding, “I do have a few knives hidden on me, but I’m trusting you to keep me safe tonight.”

The innocent little statement stroked something primal in Red. He liked the idea of her putting her safety in his hands, very much. The man leaned in and kissed her again, his body humming with masculine pride.

The plane jolted them slightly as it taxied, preparing for takeoff.

Red’s arms tightened around Rosalie’s unsteady form, examining her rosy lips and hazy eyes.

Reluctantly, they untangled themselves and moved toward their seats.

Rosalie stopped and pulled two glasses from the bar. "Let’s have a drink shall we? I want to hear about your day.”

The simple comment brought a bright smile to Raymond’s features, and with scotch in hand, he regaled her with the events ofhis meeting with Stratos.

The flight was short, only a half hour and they were beginning their descent into wherever Red was taking her.

As they exited the plane for the comfort of the waiting sedan, Rosalie couldn’t figure out where they were. The signs at the little airstrip were all still in Italian, however nothing gave the name of the place.

Raymond caught her looking about and laughed, “All in good time, my dear,” and ushered her into the car.

As Rosalie slid gracefully into her seat, her dress parted to give Red an unfair peek of her thigh, shimmering and silky soft in the evening light.

“Is everything alright, Raymond?” Rosalie questioned innocently, noticing the placement of his eyes and his shortened breathing.

“I’m trying to think of every available reason not to ditch Dembe and run away with you to some hideaway in the cliffs.” He joked in an undertone, closing the car door only to reappear on the other side, pulling the woman across the backseat so she was nestled against his side.

Rosalie laughed when his large hand palmed her hip possessively. “Where’s a blacksite when you need it, hmm?” she purred, leaning to kiss his chin.

The comment made them both laugh. A blacksite would certainly be ideal for what they wanted.

Raymond hummed his enjoyment, pulling her tighter and dipping his lips to meet hers. The soft, warm mouth melded into his instantly, matching his sensual rhythm, coaxing his arousal back to the fore.

They were too busy kissing and nuzzling each other to notice much of the Italian landscape as they were driven toward their destination.

Dembe cleared his throat when the car pulled up to a large stone building perched on a cliff overlooking the sea.

Rosalie giggled, righting Raymond’s attire, as she had at one point been using his tie for leverage.

The man smirked for her good humor, allowing her every whim. When he was once again presentable, he stepped out of the car and held a hand out to his date.

She took it gently, rising out of the car to stand beside him, her features alight with excitement.

The young valets gawped appreciatively at the woman, but Raymond was thrilled to find her eyes were only for him. Even Dembe, whom she adored, got little more than a passing glance as he lead her into the building.

The restaurant’s owner greeted them at the door, guiding them straight through the building and out onto the back veranda.

The sight stole the breath from Rosalie’s body.

The veranda showcased an unrivaled view of the sea and the nearby cliffs. The pristine blue waters twinkled in the evening light, and a warm orange glow was cast over the whole scene.

The young woman turned to gape at Raymond, whose eyes were glued to her, taking in every nuance of her expression.

“Raymond, this is magnificent.” She breathed stepping into his arms and kissing him softly.

The man leaned into the affection with a chuckle. “Shall we head to our table?” He asked, shifting to the side so she could see what was behind him.

Rosalie let out a surprised gasp upon seeing the beautiful cliffs, which held a spacious dining room within the natural opening of a large cavern. The room was dotted with small tables covered in pristine white linens. There, tucked in the outer corner of the cliff and away from prying eyes, was an intimate setting overlooking the sea.

“Oh, Raymond.” She cooed, taken aback by the unique and beautiful space.

Red preened at her awed expression, taking her hand and placing it gently in the crook of his arm.

The pair took the stone steps casually, enjoying the trek down to the cliff side. Once they reached the cavern, they were led through the bustling crowd to the private, secluded grotto in which their table had been set.

There on the table was a miniature of the flowers Red had sent her, flanked by two tall candles.

Raymond pulled Rosalie’s chair out for her, ensuring she was comfortably seated before taking his place across from her

“Raymond, this is absolutely stunning.”

He smiled as he settled in and ordered a few bottles of wine. “We’re in Polignano a Mare, a darling little sea-side gem in Southern Italy.” He divulged, looking wistfully out at the view. “This limestone grotto overlooks the Adriatic Sea, and offers some of the most incredible Apulian cuisine you’ll ever find.”

His green eyes shifted to her, the affection bright in their depths. “This is a natural grotto, not man made.” He leaned forward in his seat, taking her hand in his and stroking his thumb lazily back and forth over her fingers. “People have been using it for important events since the early 1700’s. It’s an old, natural wonder, a perfect mix of earth and sea.” He nodded thoughtfully at their joined hands, the sound of the waves crashing in the distance adding to the atmosphere.

“I thought there could be no better place for our first date.”

Rosalie found herself taken aback at the man’s sincerity, the thought and effort he put into this moment. It made her heart ache and swell with affection and appreciation. “You were right, it is absolutely perfect.” She said, squeezing his hand and flashing him a radiant smile.

The pair sat some time later, leisurely swapping stories as was their custom on nights out.

As their first course was cleared away, Red grinned warmly at his counterpart. “Tell me what you learned today.” He crooned, taking her hand back in his.

Rosalie beamed fondly at him, picking up the miniature of her arrangement and setting it in the center of the table.

“I learned you are a hopeless romantic,” she teased, earning a sensual chuckle.

“Are you susceptible to romance?” He quipped playfully, thrilling at the blush which stained her cheeks.

“As it turns out I’m terribly susceptible.” She admitted, thinking of how he had played on her heartstrings all day.

Her eyes turned back to the arrangement, her hand reaching up to stroke one of the blooms.

“I learned anemones are associated with anticipation, excitement for things to come. You were telling me how you have been anticipating us dating, looking forward to the potential of a relationship.”

Red nodded softly in response.

“There were silverston roses, which, apart from being rather rare, are symbolic of love at first sight, of enchantment.” Her dark eyes flitted up to his, “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enchanted by you the day we met.”

“I share that sentiment,” he agreed, “I didn’t recognize it at first, but once you were in my lap, I quickly realized it would take very little to have me wrapped around your switchblade-happy fingers.”

The quip had Rosalie issuing that tinkling laugh Raymond enjoyed so much. The sound was so soft and warm, it lit up the room. The man idly realized he often couldn’t help himself when he heard it echoing in the halls of the safe houses, finding himself chuckling along with her. The thought brought a broad grin to his mouth.

Rosalie continued, cradling a pale pink bloom. “These are ranunculus, which symbolize being dazzled by one’s charms. Whether you’re dazzled by mine or you were indicating I would be dazzled by yours, I’m not sure.”

Red sniggered, tilting his head back and forth in a noncommittal way.

“The greenery in the bouquet is eucalyptus, which symbolizes wealth, abundance, and foretelling, and tucked neatly near the edges is valerian, which stands for readiness.”

Heavens knew they were ready. They had wasted so much time fighting the inevitable between them, it felt wonderful to finally pursue their connection. Her thoughts seemed to show in her expression as Raymond grinned knowingly at her.

She continued, “These are silver brunia, which stand for chivalry, and those are oregano flowers, symbolizing substance.” Rosalie looked thoughtfully at him. “You were telling me of your intentions.”

He nodded, pleased at her perceptiveness. “I wanted you to understand before tonight, I can see our relationship being much more than physical attraction. I want to date you because I believe there is something of substance between us. I can see a life with you.” His eyes bore into hers, their openness and frankness breathtaking.

“I don’t, well,  haven’t  dated for this very reason. Rare is the woman I could see in such a light.”

The statement gave her chills, the sincerity in his voice robbing her of all thought.

The last flowers in the bunch were white wild roses. The meaning had piqued her curiosity back at the safe house.

Her slender fingers stroked the white blooms, drawing Red’s attention to them.

“Wild roses mean confidentiality.” Raymond inclined his head toward her. “In the Roman era, the term sub-rosa was used to indicate a meeting being held in confidence. If we are to pursue this, Rosalie, I will keep no part of myself from you, aside from my name.”

Understanding dawned on Rosalie’s face. The side of him she had seen tonight, the openness, the sincerity, he was sharing part of himself which he kept safely hidden from the rest of the world.

She was meeting the man within.

Her eyes shone in recognition, he was trusting her to hold these moments in confidence, trusting it was enough for her to be the only one allowed to see him in such a light.

Her other hand dropped to hold his, cradling the large appendage in her two small ones. “Raymond, this is truly a gift.” She murmured, bringing his hand up so she could kiss his palm. “One I will not take for granted.”

A tension Red had not known he had been feeling seemed to release from the man’s shoulders. His hand turned to cup her cheek and draw his thumb across the rosy blush. “Will I have the hidden parts of you, as well?”

He couldn’t help the question, his hopefulness thrumming palpably in the air.

“You and only you will have them.” She agreed, a lone joyful tear clinging to her lashes.

Raymond swiped the drop when it fell. He stood and pulled her close, claiming her lips, sealing the promise.

The action made Rosalie’s knees feel weak. Her hands gripped his chest for support, touched by the moment and its meaning.

This was the beginning of something incredible.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

An hour later, the pair were happily ensconced in their own private world, the topic of discussion having turned to the beginnings of their attraction.

“When did you know I was interested?” Rosalie asked, curious to hear his viewpoint.

“Oh, in Munich, what you said to Altan.” Red nodded firmly, recalling the phrase quite clearly.

The woman’s brow furrowed, unable to remember what she had said.

“‘ I made the bed and beckoned him to it ?’” He quoted, grinning slyly at her.

Rosalie gasped and placed a hand over her mouth, the altercation hurtling back into her mind.

“My God, what a comeback.” Red crooned, dying to know where the spectacular rejoinder came from. Truthfully, he had found her fiery retort utterly charming. It brought about something primal and possessive in the man which, at the time, had taken him completely by surprise.

Rosalie dropped her chin with a grimace. “Sorry about that. I found his attitude incredibly grating.” Her eyes flashed their annoyance as she remembered Altan’s accusations. “I needed to knock him down a few pegs. He just assumed you were bedding me.”

Raymond laughed, “I wholeheartedly agree, my dear. He undermined your hard work and cunning by attributing your success to my libido.”

He placed a finger under her chin, guiding her gaze upward, the look telling her in no uncertain terms there was no merit to Altan’s words.

“You built an empire so enticing I chased you across an entire continent to get in on it.” He reminded, “Bedding you was not part of my plan.”

Red made certain she understood his meaning.

It might not have been part of his plan initially, but it damn well was now.

He wouldn’t stand for her thinking his actions came from any place other than desire for her.

The intensity of Red’s gaze made the woman blush furiously, her eyes falling to his chest again. “Still,” she murmured, “I could have demolished his rampant ego without dragging you into the fray.”

Raymond chuckled darkly, “Don’t ever apologize for such a well-aimed barb,” he advised, then added, “I, for one, enjoyed it immensely.”

Rosalie looked up at him, amused. “Oh really?”

His green eyes shone with a powerful mixture of pride and adoration. “It was brilliant. Like a heat-seeking missile, you found the man’s soft underbelly, then blew a magnificent and irreparable hole in it.” Red smiled to himself, replaying the exchange over and over in his mind.

She had been something,  someone else entirely in that moment, and Raymond was one of very few people who could appreciate the duality.

Rosalie the woman and Rosalie the criminal were two separate personas, yet as much a part of each other as the etchings on a coin. Like him, she had learned to completely and comfortably occupy either side of that coin at a moment’s notice.

Knowing the limits of each side and which to choose in a conflict was one of the keys to their survival. Reddington had found himself inundated with both attraction and intrigue at the quick wit Rosalie had shown.

He sometimes forgot she was still rather new to their world. To see her blushing, unsure of her own prowess was rather endearing, truth be told. He was, however, looking forward to watching her confidence grow, to see more of the formidable hellion he saw that night in Munich. The image was very, very alluring.

The young woman blushed again at his praise and his intense stare. Raymond was a powerful man who dealt with his fair share of vicious and ruthless criminals. He wouldn’t sugarcoat his opinion for anyone, even her.

As their main course was cleared away and the cork popped on another bottle of Masseto, talk turned to their recent adventures in Siena.

“What did that Stefano fellow say to you, after the race?” Red asked, he had meant to question her about the exchange last night, but more enticing opportunities had come up.

Rosalie wrinkled her nose in distaste. “He made a comment about my looks. Said a young little thing like me should be more careful about what men’s toes I step on.” She met Raymond’s gaze, her slate eyes sharp and narrowed. “I didn’t take kindly to it.”

Raymond held his amusement, “I’m dying to know what fiery retort you lobbed his way.”

A reluctant smile plucked at her full lips, “I might have dragged you into it.” She murmured ruefully, unsure how he would respond.

The man let out a barking laugh. “I figured by the way you grabbed my arm,” he noted, “Now I’m doubly interested.”

Rosalie shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. “I threatened to funnel all my assets into ensuring Pantera became the next Nonna. I then proceeded to tell him he should be more careful about the women he threatens. He didn’t have the slightest clue who I was or who I belonged to, and that could end up getting him killed.”

She fidgeted with the napkin in her lap, finally hazarding a glance at her date.

Raymond’s face was warm and, for lack of a better word, delighted. “That’ll teach him.” He quipped, still reeling at her choice of words. ‘ Who I was or who I belonged to .’ The phrase excited him immensely.

“Do you, belong to me?” He asked softly, green  eyes watching her features hungrily.

She blinked up at him, blushing and nervous. “I would like to.”

The statement made his heart swell almost painfully. Raymond lifted her hand and placed his lips to its soft surface. “I think it’s time I took you for a spin on the dance floor.”

The woman tittered softly as he stood, keeping her hand in his. She was pulled into his waiting arms and guided smoothly onto the floor as the band tucked back in the cave struck up a slow, swinging ballad.

They danced slowly, swaying gently in each other’s arms. Both couldn’t help but recall the eventful night in New York which had slowly led them here.

They alternated between dancing in comfortable quiet and talking further. Finally, Rosalie remembered her own question about the prior day’s excitement.

“How did you make out at the Palio? Your bribe.” She asked, curiosity evident in her features.

“I made several bribes.” Evaded Red.

“You know what I mean.” She laughed, “the last minute one you and Dembe were all hush-hush about.”

Raymond nodded, it seemed nothing could be put past her. “You may have noticed the jockey for Pantera walked out with different security than when he walked in?”

Rosalie’s brows knit together. She hadn’t noticed this at all.

He continued, “Those were my associates. I bribed him to take the fall. Pantera had a very good horse and with even a reasonably good jockey were too likely to win. Taking their jockey out of the running early in the race backpedaled their potential significantly.”

“The contrada was going to kill him for that, why was it so important to take him out?”

Raymond’s  eyes were warm and honest as he looked down at her. “I connected the outcome of the Palio with the likelihood of you accepting me as a suitor.” He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Rosalie flushed a bright pink, “Could there really have been any doubt in your mind?”

His lips twitched slightly. “I prefer not to put the horse before the cart. There was certainly the potential you didn’t want a relationship.” The notion she might not want him in the same capacity as he wanted her had plagued him all week.

“I would be a terrible fool not to want that.” Rosalie replied, leaning to rest her head on his chest. She felt his lips meet the crown of her head, a soft chuckle vibrating against her ear.

“Thank goodness you’re no fool.” He murmured softly, spinning them again.

A few songs later, and the pair made their way back to their table, intent on dessert. Raymond garnered a chiding laugh from his counterpart as he immediately nabbed her plate, bringing it over to his side and sat with his legs crossed.

“ I believe you have something of mine .” She quoted, coming to stand by him, shaking her little gold spoon at him in open chastisement.

Red laughed at the picture, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap.

“I thought we might share.” He purred, taking her spoon and setting it on the table.

Rosalie peered at him, surprised when he picked up his spoon, took a swipe of her dessert and held it out to her. She leaned forward hesitantly, wrapping her plump lips about the confection.

Raymond watched avidly as the little pink tongue snuck out to swipe at the sweet cream. The sight was nothing short of sinful, coaxing an aroused grunt from his throat while he watched her swallow.

A pair of molten grey eyes peered heatedly up at him. She reached for her own spoon, gently batting his hand away as he tried to waylay her. She mirrored his actions, taking a spoonful of his chocolate confection and holding it out for him to sample.

The man relaxed into the proceedings, realizing her intent. The robust confection tasted divine, and seemed that much better when offered up by such a mesmerizing creature.

They took turns holding out morsels for each other to taste.

Rosalie held out a spoonful of her own treat, silently offering him a bite.

Red had taken it, humming softly at the delicious taste of cinnamon and pistachios.

Rosalie had giggled at his small sweet cream mustache, leaning down to kiss the remnant from his lips.

It was an incredibly erotic exchange. By the time they were finished and summarily informed that Dembe was waiting with the car, there was a stifling tension thrumming between the two. Not a crumb remained on their plates, and the last of the wine had been shared between them as they murmured sensually about everything and nothing.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************

The ride back to the plane was comfortably quiet, an array of silent communication occurring in the backseat.

As the trio quietly made their way into the plane, Raymond silently and stealthily removed his tie. He followed Dembe toward the cockpit, murmuring quietly to both him and Edward before closing the door behind him.

Rosalie noted the lost accessory immediately, a tinkling laugh escaping her lips. “Did you just put your tie on the door knob?”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the back of the plane, into the small, secluded office.

“I want no interruptions.” Growled Red, backing her toward the desk and lifting her onto its gleaming surface. His fingertips stroked her thighs and hips appreciatively as he leaned forward to nibble at her neck.

“If you’re looking for another trinket, you’re out of luck.” Rosalie whispered in his ear, garnering his undivided attention.

“I’ve nothing for you tonight.”

 Jesus wept . The woman could tempt satan himself and come out holding the keys to the gates of hell.

Her vital young body thrummed with excitement at his obvious interest, willing him to call her bluff.

“Let me see.” He commanded, his strong hands pressing at her knees.

She opened them slowly, deliberately driving him spare.

“I don’t think you want to tease me with such a thing, Rosalie.” He warned, but she merely laughed.

“Oh, I think I do.” she giggled, echoing his sentiment from earlier that week. “I told you I’d have you climbing the walls,” she reminded, placing her hands between her thighs and gripping the edge of the desk.

“Tell me, darling,” she leaned so she was a hair’s breadth from his lips. Red could feel them move against his just barely when she spoke.

“ Are you on the walls yet? ”

Red’s powerful form pressed its way between her thighs, bending her back onto the desk. “Oh little dove,” he rumbled, “You should be more careful what you wish for.”

He wasn’t just climbing the walls, the man was practically on the fucking ceiling for want of her.

“I’m going to have you shaking like a leaf, begging me to take you right here on this desk.” His scorching mouth nipped and licked at her neck, leaving a smattering of love bites in his wake.

Rosalie moaned brokenly, the visual he painted all too arousing. “I’ll beg you to take me right here on the floor, if it means I can have your cock.” Her dirty talk made Raymond chuckle darkly, the thought more than enticing. However, he already had plans in motion, and he desperately wanted to keep them.

“Not yet.” He admonished, pressing against her, “But I have something which might soothe us both for a bit.”

He stepped back slightly, admiring the view of her spread open for him atop the desk. The slit of the dress had fallen between her legs, carefully covering the valley from view.

Agonizingly slowly, Red’s hand slid up the woman’s leg, catching the hem of the garment.

“Tell me you want this.” He murmured, his thumb stroking back and forth over the sensitive expanse of her inner thighs.

“Raymond, if you don’t touch me I’m certain I will scream.” Rosalie retorted blithely, her nerves crackling with need..

The statement was confirmation enough for the man, and he happily shifted the silky material away from his prize.

The sight of her sweet little mound wet and waiting for him nearly took Red to his knees. The soft, neatly trimmed curls were a shade darker than the waves cascading down her shoulders. The little lips were a pretty pink, glistening tantalizingly with her arousal.

“My God, do you have a pretty little pussy,” he moaned, reaching to cup the mound. She was hot and so, so ready for him.

“And this sweet little clit.” His thumb swiped gently over the tiny hood peeking out from between her lips, earning a broken moan from Rosalie. “You have no idea how much I want this in my mouth.” He sighed, stroking the nub harder, making the woman squirm.

“Raymond, please.” She whimpered, arching into his touch. Every stroke felt amazing, but she needed more.

Her small hand reached between them gripping his throbbing erection through his slacks. Her eyes widened as she felt the thick, hard appendage fill her hand to capacity. “ Oh ”

Red let out a confident growl, smirking as he rocked against the little hand experimentally. A shiver ran his body at the sensation, her small fingers felt wonderful wrapped around his turgid member.

Reluctantly, Raymond pulled her hand away, stepping closer into the valley of her thighs so his heavy, fabric-covered cock was nestled intimately against her wet slit.

As he had the night before, Red set a steady, rocking rhythm against her sensitive flesh.

The movement sent jolts of pleasure through them both, and the woman whimpered her longing for release.

“You needed this, didn’t you, Rosalie?” Red grunted, pressing her back into the hard wood of the desk. “God knows I did.” He confessed, moaning against her neck, the warmth and wetness of her center teasing his shaft just right.

“I want you.” She moaned plaintively, “I-I want you inside.”

Raymond’s already thin resolve shook with the effort of holding himself back.

“Soon, sweetheart. Soon.” He placated, thrusting against her endlessly.

His cock stroked her perfectly, teasing her little clit without mercy.

“Please,” she wailed, “Oh...oh please, don’t stop.”

Red grinned darkly, “Not a chance, little dove.” He assured her, rutting hard against her wet slit. He was determined to make her come, to prime her soft, gentle body for his possession.

“I’m going to make you  shatter .” He assured her, reaching up to palm one of the ample breasts.

The woman keened beneath him, bending up into his touch as he rolled the nipple into a taught peak.

“I’m going to ravage this sweet little body.” He ground out, enjoying how her body tightened at his words. “You’ll never want for a damn thing.” He promised boldly, revelling in the feel of her thighs quivering around his waist.

His words were setting the whimpering woman ablaze.

Rosalie scrambled for purchase as she felt her orgasm come roaring through her out of nowhere.

Raymond could feel her shaking, desperately seeking release. “That’s it, let it out. Come for me.” He coaxed, feeling the beginnings of his own orgasm forming.

Rosalie reached for the collar of his shirt, pulling his mouth to hers in a silent plea. She wanted so badly to come, to give in to the pleasure he was giving.

He leaned forward with a snarl, pinning her hard to the desk and kissing her heatedly as he continued his strong, deliberate strokes.

A wanton moan met his ears and he leaned back to watch enraptured as her lithe body bowed in pleasure. Her orgasm tore through her, leaving her unable to speak as another wave of arousal gushed over the front of Raymond’s trousers. “Yes,” she finally managed to eek out in trembling delight, a primal groan of completion following thereafter. “Oh God, Yes, Raymond!”

The sight and sound of her unmasked pleasure had Red’s hips jerking against her without rhythm. His legs shook slightly as he felt her hand reach down to cup his testicles, rolling them gently.

Raymond grunted, the slight touch just the incentive he’d needed to come hurtling over the edge.

“Rosalie,” he hissed, pleasure rocketing through his every nerve ending. “ Yes… Just like that”  He groaned his approval, thrusting hard against her. He rapidly hurtled toward his climax, his husky murmuring turning his partner on to no end.

 “Fuck, I’m coming .” He gasped hips shuddering.

The declaration was met with a mew of arousal as Rosalie doubled her efforts, cradling his balls gently in her hand as her still-quaking hips ground against his pulsating erection.

Raymond came with a guttural, rumbling growl, riding hard against the wet woman beneath him, his cum lubricating his thrusts.

Rosalie moaned as she felt the heat of his release through the wet fabric, adding to her arousal.

The pair were left in a panting, trembling heap on top of the desk.

Rosalie adored the feel of Red’s ragged breath ghosting along her neck. The sensation made her squirm, coaxing a husky moan from her partner as her hips ground against his sensitive cock head.

Raymond’s bulk pinned the little woman tightly to the surface of the desk, ceasing her wriggling and making her sigh contentedly.

“ Wow” Rosalie gasped as she caught her breath, holding Raymond tight to her. “I can’t tell you how badly I needed that.” Her body felt boneless, minute aftershocks rippling through her skin intermittently.

Red exhaled, a smug expression overtaking him. He kissed her languidly, their lips moulding together in a soft, sensual dance. “I have wanted to make you come for what feels like decades.” He muttered against her mouth, moving to lift himself.

The woman’s arms and legs wrapped around him. “Not yet.” She mewed, wanting to remain pinned beneath him a little while longer.

His sensual chuckle filled her ears as he leaned forward, nuzzling into her neck. “We are going to land soon.” He informed her regretfully, wanting nothing more than to doff the suit and bend her over the desk for round two.

As though on cue, a soft knock could be heard coming from the cockpit door. Dembe’s voice could be heard from the other side.

“Ten minutes.”

Rosalie groaned her dissension as Red stood, righting his attire.

A lewd chuckle filled the air as he looked down at his sodden trousers.

The young woman sat up to see what had him so amused and found herself immensely aroused by the outline of his well-endowed member against the soaked material. “I owe you a pair of slacks.” She mused, slightly embarrassed for her shameless response.

Raymond strode over to thumb her chin. “I can’t think of a better way to tarnish a perfectly good suit.” He grinned like the cat who caught canary, “I’m going to consider it a personal mission to see to the ruin of my entire wardrobe via your pleasure.”

The comment removed any embarrassment on her part and replaced it with heated amusement.

The man righted her, kissing her lips once before leading her out into the main cabin. He casually draped his jacket over his lap as the plane touched down on the tarmac.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************

 Stratos’s Apartment, Siena - July 4th 1999

They had reached the apartment around one in the morning, the other occupants were blessedly asleep, allowing Raymond to walk Rosalie to her door in peace.

She rested against the door’s facing, looking up at him as though he hung the very moon in the sky.

Red leaned one arm on the door frame, the other held her waist as he brushed his nose against hers.

“I had an amazing time tonight, Raymond.” She sighed happily, tilting her chin up to meet his caress.

“What time can I pick you up tomorrow?” Replied Red, smiling at the soft laugh which danced from her lips.

“Hmmm…Seven?” She offered, pleased there would be a second date.

“I think you meant six.” He teased, kissing her once again.

Rosalie giggled, “Any time will do.”

“Until tomorrow.” He murmured, meeting her in a kiss that made her toes curl before pressing off the wall and sauntering toward his room.

“Good Night,” She said warmly, glancing back at him as she closed her door.

Raymond couldn’t help the broad grin which lit his features. “Good Night, Little Dove.” He whispered, stepping into the cool dark of his bedroom.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************

 Stratos’s Apartment - July 4th, 1999

Raymond and Rosalie woke with serene smiles later that morning, The pair and their guards grabbed a quick breakfast before getting ready for their flight to Greece.

Jacopo had stopped by to say farewell and implore them to attend the next running in August.

Rosalie was going to miss the boisterous old Sienese. She planned to ask Raymond if they could make the Palio an annual tradition. It had certainly been a fun and eventful week.

Once the well-wishers were gone and the house was quiet again, Rosalie snuck off to the lounge where she knew she would find Raymond.

Stratos and their guards were conveniently packing, leaving an uninterrupted window for the pair to be alone.

He had been waiting for her.

The moment she had closed the door, Red had scooped her up and carried her to the loveseat, sitting so she straddled his hips.

“How did you sleep?” She asked, carding her fingers through his hair.

Raymond leaned into the gesture, a soft hum leaving his throat. “Better than I have in weeks. You?”

“The same.” Nodded Rosalie, dipping to kiss his jaw line.

A pair of large, masculine hands gripped her hips, sliding back to squeeze her backside fondly.

“We needed a little release, didn’t we, little dove?” He crooned, opening more of his neck to her affectionate touch.

Rosalie moaned in response. “You know, we have a few hours before we need to head for the plane.” She intoned slyly.

Raymond’s eyes rolled playfully, the ghost of a grin floating across his features. “My dear, a few hours won’t cut it. When I take you I’m going to need a few  days .”

Rosalie couldn’t help the shiver that ran along her body. At the sound of a knock on the door, she heaved a forlorn sigh. “I hate to burst your bubble darling,” she grumbled, “but the way our schedule runs I doubt we’ll be able to have a few days to enjoy ourselves properly.”

She climbed off his person and straightened her clothes before calling, “Come in.”

Horace poked his head into the room. “Rosie, I have the property manager in Trinidad on the phone. He wants to speak.”

The woman let out a little growl her eyes flitted to Raymond, scrunching her nose before heading out the door with her guard.

As she left the room the thought occurred to Raymond that she was, in fact, correct. They would play hell trying to get more than a few hours to themselves. This thought did not sit well at all with the man.

They had spent so much time fighting what was going on between them, now they were finally ready to explore that avenue, and they didn’t have the time or the privacy in which to do so. Raymond consider the issue as he drank his coffee and enjoyed his breakfast. The notion was bothering him greatly.

Raymond wanted their first time to be intimate, private, as it should be. He wanted to revel in their union. He wanted to learn her body’s every dip and curve. He wanted to watch her come undone in the dead of night and the early morning sun, wanted them to walk around the house in whatever state of undress they preferred, and make love where and whenever the mood struck.

They certainly couldn’t do that with Horace and Dembe floating around.

Red snorted. Well, they could, but he was a tad selfish and didn’t want to share the delights of her body with anyone.

Dembe strode into the room, looking thoughtfully at Raymond’s scowl. “You are wondering how to get her alone.” He nodded sagely.

The older man didn’t want to know how his guard was so perceptive.

“It’s not wrong to want a little time to ourselves.” Grumbled Reddington, shifting slightly.

“It is not.” Dembe agreed, “It is, however, unfortunate you did not pursue this at Break Maiden, where you had a bit more free rein.”

A thought struck Red, and he looked up, beaming at Dembe. “You’ve given me an excellent idea.” He murmured.

The young man’s eyes crinkled their amusement. “How can I help?”


April 16th 2040

So far he's answered one quick call from North, telling her that he and Connor were at the DPD and they were okay, and to tell everyone not to worry.

But Markus is worried. Not so much about the fallout, (fuck, there is going to be such a fallout,) but about Connor, who's sitting at Fowler's desk staring into the middle distance with that slight frown of his, all his happiness from the night before just wrecked. Because he thinks this is his fault.

Really it's kind of Markus's fault, because he'd been getting on Connor's case so much about being paranoid, telling him to ease up a little. Even so, Markus wants to straight up murder whoever it was that put that look on Connor's face.

The next call is the one he's been really dreading: Carl.

“Hang on,” he says to Connor, “I have to take this.”

Connor just gives him a spaced-out nod.

The first thing Carl says is, “You okay, Markus?”

“Yeah,” Markus says. Then: “No.”

“Yeah,” Carl says, “well, I didn't expect you to be. The first thing you need to hear from me is that none of this is your fault. Nor is it Connor's. It's the fault of whatever scum violated your privacy.”

“I know.” A shamed murmur is all he can manage.

“The second thing you need to hear is that I would never disrespect your privacy by allowing even a single image of that to pass my field of vision. So if you're worried about me seeing anything that would upset you, put that worry to bed.”

“Thank you.” A little better, maybe.

“The third thing I'm going to tell you is...ha...Maybe I shouldn't. Oh well. There's a tape of me somewhere out there too. Probably pretty similar.”

“What?” It comes out so sharply that Connor looks up at him, questioning. Markus shakes his head: Nothing, it's okay.

“The 90s were wild times, Markus. I was pretty wasted. My partner and I weren't aware we were being recorded, but it happened all the same. It was a different time, the 90s, and I wanted to be the cool, laid back artist, you know? So we played it off like it wasn't a big deal. We even got a copy and showed it to our friends at a party. I think we felt like if we laughed it off and  pretended it wasn't so bad, maybe it wouldn't be.”

“Wow,” is all Markus can manage.

“But it destroyed us,” Carl says. “I think if we'd taken it as seriously as it felt, we might have been able to deal with it. If we'd admitted that it was a criminal act and that we'd felt violated by it, we could have gotten through it.”

“I'm sorry,” Markus says.

“Oh well,” Carl says. “Who knows what would have happened? Maybe I wouldn't have met Leo's mother. Maybe I wouldn't have had the accident. And maybe I wouldn't have met you, son. I can't be anything but thankful.”

Markus feels tears spring to his eyes. For the first time in a very long time, he doesn't know what to say.

“What I'm saying to you, Markus, is that I don't want you and Connor to let this fuck up a good thing. Just... make sure you handle it together, okay?”

“I...we will.” He glances over to Connor, who is still looking at him with a question in his eyes. “Thank you. For telling me all of that.”

“I love you, son.”

Markus chokes on the words. “Love you too.”

When Carl disconnects, Markus goes to Connor and sits on the desk in front of him, taking his hands.

“Hey,” he says. “This is a big deal. But it's going to be all right. All right?”

“Yes,” Connor says. He takes a second to process that; to let Markus convince him, like he always does, for better or for worse. Then, with more conviction he says, “Yes. Of course. It's a big deal, but it's nothing we can't handle.”

** ** **April 15th 2040

Recon 7 can't take much more of this, honestly. It was bad enough that he had to watch them do... do that. But now the 200 is wandering around in his pants and open shirt, and the 800 is wearing literally nothing but the 200's long coat, and the 200 is yammering excitedly because he found a piano backstage.

“Do you want to have sex on it?” the 800 asks, from where he's--it--is looking through a rack of theater costumes.

“What? No, for godsake,” the 200 says. Then he takes a second to think about it and says, “I don't mean no, because yes, but it wasn't my first thought.”

“Oh?” The 800 pulls something off the costume rack, fucking licks it, then puts it back.

“My interest in pianos does extend to their traditional purposes, you know,” the 200 says.

The 800 keeps wandering around, picking things up, turning them over in his hands, and putting them back. At one point he finds a prop crown and sets it on his head.

The 200 picks a few keys of the piano, which sounds like it's broken or missing some notes or something. And then it starts singing. It's standing at the piano singing a fucking Neil Diamond song, but the weirdest part is, it's using its own voice and style. Androids can easily just play music through their speaker or whatever. That's what the godawful There 4 U “band” does. (Recon 7 doesn't even like calling them a band. It's not even music.) This android sings, though, putting his own spin on it. “You are the sun, I am the moon, you are the words, I am the tune, play me...”

The 800 stops poking around and stands there acting like it's listening; its LED going from blue to yellow, probably trying to download data on the song or something.

Then the RK200 plays something by Elton John on the piano, and then sings a new one by fucking Beyonce. Whatever pleasantness exists in the android's voice just incites more rage in Recon 7. These androids earned none of what they have. They never took music lessons; they were just programmed to be good at shit. They were programmed at the beginning to imitate soulfulness.

So why do they bother to do things like this when it's just two of them?

Finally the RK200 seems to notice that the other android is too quiet. It stops singing and looks over to the wing, where the 800 is just standing there staring (the front of the long coat just... totally open, the crown still sitting stupidly on its head.)

They stare at each other for a few seconds like they just discovered the other was still there.

“My crown is in my heart, not on my head,” the 200 says.

The 800's LED goes yellow for a second before it answers, “My crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.”

“That's some true shit,” the 200 says, grinning.

The RK800 crosses the stage to the other wing and all but tackles the RK200 onto the piano.

Fuck, not again.

** ** **

April 16th 2040

FANDROIDS FORUM

--Alleged Sex Tape Chat--

ArtThot39: Umm guys, you should probably remove “alleged” from the name of this chat, js.

DeviantAsTheyCome: I'm sorry was that Beyonce I just fucking heard Markus sing? Because... that's brilliant.

KillingMeOftly: Yes but also BENNY AND THE JETS? Obviously they know ~~the classics~~ but that is just hilarious

ArtThot39: Oh...my... Did that just happen. Is there gonna be sex on a piano because I don't think I can handle that.

ArtThot39: Okay. I am now officially on life support.

MrsKamski: How is this real life. How is this real life right now.

** ** **

April 15th 2040

That piano is taking some abuse; some keys were already missing, now it's jangling all sorts of notes as Connor backs Markus up against it. They're kissing as Connor starts pulling at Markus's pants and shirt. The kissing is kind of mad-passionate-crazy, but Connor's hands are slow, gentle, and precise at the buttons of Markus's shirt – like he's being careful.

Andrea sees why once the shirt is gone. Markus is just... he's covered in scars. She had known in theory that he would be; they had talked enough about his history in the forums, and knew from what little he'd said in past interviews that he'd been shot by police and left in a mass grave for androids. And she'd seen on TV the footage of the androids' first freedom march, she and the world had witnessed him being shot then, too.

But it looks so much more savage when she sees it, her eyes grow hot with tears. There are places where his skin just doesn't cover anymore, and when Connor gets to his pants, kneeling down to gently pull them off, she sees that his legs are scarred, too. Connor gently rubs his hands up and down Markus's calves, making him take a shuddery breath, before he rises up to his feet again. He skims his fingertips down the front of Markus's chest, over the gashes and divots – Markus allows this without flinching or looking away.

“The fire that breaks from thee then, a billion times-told lovelier, more dangerous, oh my chevalier,” Connor says.

She'll definitely keyword search that later, probably so will everyone in the forums to see what he's quoting and theorize about what it means to them... but no, she won't be going back there; not after this. Not after she betrays them. Her friends there might never know. But she will.

Markus gives Connor a shaky laugh and adjusts the prop crown he's still wearing, then he turns around and leans over the smooth surface of the piano, his hands leaving prints in the dust. Connor has to take off the crown and set it aside before he lowers his mouth to the back of Markus's neck.

Markus makes the skin retract from his entire back. She's seen so much of android anatomy, so it's not like it's the first time seeing what their spines look like, but it's still a little shocking – the lack of actual vertebrae, and the way wires weave in and out of blue plates, sparking.

Connor is still wearing Markus's long coat so it's impossible to see any details, but it's pretty obvious by the way that he pushes forward and Markus cries out his name. His fingers start detailing the grooves and divots along Markus's spine, and Markus is panting against the top of the piano.

It's still Recon 7's hacked feed that Andrea is watching, and that shithead must have done something to one of their cameras, because the angle shifts to the front in a quick motion.

Connor stops. Looks up. His pupils constrict to points, and now his eyes are dark and dangerous, narrowed and focused, like he heard something. His head tilts to the side.

Andrea can almost feel Recon 7 holding their breath, wherever in the world they are; she holds hers, too. But if there ever was a time to put a stop to this, it's now. She hopes for it to end. She'll be in deep shit, she'll never get her dog back if she doesn't deliver. But she's still rooting for Connor to trust his instinct and catch them. Maybe he can catch them in time to help her, too? God, if only she could send a message. But there's no way.

“Connor.” Markus's voice is sharp now; his focus is back, he's not going to pieces anymore, like he was able to simply shut it off.

Connor's eyes soften and he murmurs a quiet apology before grabbing Markus by the hip and pushing forward again. He ducks his head and puts his tongue into the port at the back of Markus's neck. Markus's head falls forward onto his arms and he practically wails. Connor's fingers resume their mapping of the wires along his spine, and tracing the damaged parts of his frame.

“We're nowhere near done yet,” Connor says in his ear.

“Yes, yes,” Markus says. “We have time, I-- yes, anything, anything.”

Please, Andrea thinks. Please don't let this ruin them.

** ** ** **

NEW DETAILS OF SHOCKING SEX TAPE EMERGE

Police have found the location where android leader Markus and his bodyguard, police model and DPD employee “Connor” were secretly recorded having sex last night. Detectives are looking for leads on who is responsible for recording them. Authorities have not yet confirmed that the recording is real.

Comments:

BadRobot: Deep Fake my ass! Even if it was, that would still be a crime! WHEN are we going to leave androids alone, I mean if we as humans are not going to help them, do we have to keep fucking them over??

KamskisManBun: Of course it's real. With any other androids you could say that they just got some doubles because most of them look alike. But the RK models are prototypes and both are one of a kind. Of course it's them but so what. Androids can fall in love. So what. Leave them alone.

HumanChloe: FUCK! If your man doesn't fuck like Connor, what even is the point of your man!

Alex: OK thats not fair. No-one can live up to that. This is literally the problem I have with androids & I think it's the problem everyone has with them like...... we can't be as good as them at ANYTHING. Thier better @ sports music  teaching working at jobs we use to do, we always knew there better @ sex because of eden clubs. We cant compete with androids so why don't we just give up??? Sad. What I am saying is when Eden was open, men were finally happy and getting what we wanted. And that is BECAUSE OF THE FACT that we can't live up to android perfection so men were going the one place it didn't matter......eden

              reply to this

              PenIsMightier: Okay dipshit, but you do realize that women went to Eden Club also? That there were male android models for women to fuck?

			Reply to this

                                   Alex: Thank you for proving my point tho. Women were going to eden club for sex because those male Traci's were perfect in a way that human men could never be. that's what i'm saying it just not fair

                                reply to this

                                     PenIsMightier: Holy shit. You really can't argue with stupid. I'm going to finish watching the video in peace, thank you very much, and I hope you dream about it tonight. Toodles. ^_^

** ** ** **

April 16th 2040

By now there's a crowd of humans outside the glass doors of the DPD, and thirteen drones flying overhead. A strange, creeping apprehension winds up Connor's spine, making him want to stay in Fowler's office with Markus until they all leave. He's never felt this way before. Or – maybe he has. Maybe even lately—four times, five if you counted the slightly nervous feeling he couldn't shake the night before—he's been experiencing sensations he can't quantify. Not exactly seeing movements in his peripheral vision, but expecting to see them. It's bothersome.

Markus is on the phone again, this time with President Warren. His pacing is giving Connor another sensation he can't quite place. Irritation? Nervous energy? He digs his quarter out of his pocket and starts rolling it. What is she saying to Markus? He could probably listen in. But Markus will tell him once he's off the phone. Probably.

No, of course he will.

How could he have let this happen? He knew. He knew. There was a moment last night when he heard a two-point-five second sinusoidal tone at 9Hz. And he had ignored it in favor of lavishing attention on Markus.

“Okay,” Markus says into the phone. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

That doesn't sound too bad, at least. “It went well?”

Markus runs his hands over the short hair on his head. “Sort of. She's going to formally condemn it. There will be consequences if the parties involved are found, but she can't spare a lot of resources to find out who did it.”

“I'll find out.”

Markus turns to him, again with that look in his eyes: a warning.

Connor holds up his hand before Markus can say his name in that tone. “I let this happen, so I should be the one to fix it.”

“Okay,” Markus says. “Okay, back up. This is solely the fault of whoever has been following us around. Connor, hear me out. Of course we're going to find out who did this. I don't think they were expecting to see what they saw last night; they were probably looking for something incriminating or compromising, but there was nothing, so they just went with what they thought would be scandalous. Humans can be prudish over things like this. But that doesn't change the fact that whoever did this probably had--has--something more dangerous planned. You're the head of Jericho's security, and my personal security, and you're still the best there is, so I won't ask you to step back, okay? But I'm not going to let you blame yourself. I'm not.” He gets to his knees in front of the chair that Connor's sitting in, and takes his hands. “I'm not. And it's not going to stop us from being who we are. We're fighting for the rights of androids to be free and happy, and that includes us.”

Connor opens his mouth to speak, finds he doesn't know what to say—it was probably going to be a denial or a logical argument—and quickly closes it again. Markus waits patiently for him.

“It isn't easy,” Connor says. “I mean, to...to relax or whatever it is I need to do. It's not in my programming, first of all. Second, recent events have... have--” He tries to gesture with his hand, but Markus is still holding it.

“Yeah, it's taken a toll on all of us. Just don't give up, okay? I need you. You, not a bodyguard or cop. People are going to forget about this when the next big thing comes along. Just trust me, okay?”

** ** **

FANDROID FORUM

--sex tape chat--

REDLED: HOLY SHIT. I'm seeing something I'll never forget for as long as I live. I'm gifing every second of this. My life now has meaning. Play this at my funeral, I'm serious.

MrsKamski: This video should be required viewing in sex ed lmaoooooo. Fucking 101.

ArtThot39: 101? No way, this is next level fucking. This is like the calculus of fucking. The quantum physics of fucking. Only geniuses can understand it. This is mastery. Where is Andy? She needs to see this, so she can die with the rest of us. ANDREA. WHERE U AT GIRL

ReinOnMe: This turned my software into hardware.

ArtThot39: Okay, but real quick. Since I have no life and I can't stop thinking about this. There was a TED talk a while back about androids and the mechanism by which they could feel and I remember something about... in the end it doesn't matter. If something tells you that it can feel, IT DOES. That's 101 philosophy, speaking of 101 levels. Androids don't have like, seratonin or whatever, or any of the chemicals that make humans feel fear or love (the two driving forces of life right? When you think about it?) So if they don't have those things and they still feel those things (see point A, if they say they do, then they do. Otherwise WHY BOTHER??) then there must be something at play here. The TT I watched was saying that we need to take another look at spirituality because of androids being alive.

MrsKamski: Oh wow cool. Btw Connor's fingers stroking the wires in Markus' back has me DEAD you guys.

ReinOnMe:  lol true true. Oh, I was gonna search for whatever it was that Connor was quoting, what was it, anyone know?

ArtThot39: It was from a poem called The Windhover. Ummm you guys... it's about jesus O_O Just saying.

ReinOnMe: So... is Connor saying... ????

ArtThot39: I mean I don't know? Maybe but maybe not, maybe he was just referencing the way suffering can make you stronger or more beautiful or something. There are also many many interpretations of Jesus himself and not all of them are *air quotes* divine.

MrsKamski: Connor's cock is devine

ArtThot39: lol yes on that I believe we all agree!

** ** **