Tiny Dancer [EverlyxSterling]

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As Damien wrapped his arms around her, Natalia could not help but think back to the first time they had ridden in a taxi together. The night that she had texted him a drunken moment of foolishness, and he had actually shown up. She recalled how feverish he had felt against her in the dim hallway at the club, and how they could not keep their hands off each other in the cab. That poor driver.. At least they had tipped him well, considering they almost started fucking in his backseat. She smiled a bit at the thought, tipping her head up to peer at Damien now.

He was different. Now he was not mindlessly lustful, his arousal replaced with a calm love that would have scared her away if she had seen it before. He was looking at her in a way that made her want to blush like a silly schoolgirl. Instead, she shifted her body a bit to reach up and softly kiss his cheek and lips several times as they approached the airport. There was no way she wanted to go to Russia with anybody else at her side.

As the taxi rolled to a stop, she gave Damien one more smile, then gently nudged him toward the door as the cabbie unloaded the trunk. Soon they were out, bags in hand. She curled the fingers of her free hand around his, knowing that getting from this point to the plane was going to be a chore. Hopefully they were both up for it.

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I promise.

Lily believed Jackson without question. He had promised her that he would not leave her again, and he wouldn't. It was that simple. She had no reason to believe that he would lie to her, and truth be told, she was too exhausted to even think about doubting him. Instead, she simply nodded a little and snuggled closer against him, a tired smile on her lips as he blanketed her face with soothing kisses. The only place that he did not kiss was her lips, though she was temporarily distracted from that fact when he shifted around for a minute or so.

Once he was settled back in, Lily decided that she had just enough strength left in her to do one last thing before going back to sleep. She slid one hand up, her fingers carefully tracing along Jackson's chest and up over his neck until she felt his jaw. Once she was certain about where his face was, she gently cupped his cheek and leaned up to press her lips against his. The kiss was soft and sweet, lingering only a minute before pulling away with a smile.

"Goodnight, Jackson," she murmured, as usual. She settled back in against him without giving him a real chance to react. Seconds later, she was deeply asleep.
 
The baggage felt lighter than when the pair left Damien's apartment. Perhaps it was the excitement that accompanies the beginning of any new adventure. The airport was the fist step - the threshold - to what could become the defining experience between the two lovers. Traveling to foreign countries was something Damien was not fond of, especially one where he was wholly ignorant of the customs and language. Those predilections faded to irrelevance as he followed Natalia through the massive baggage and personnel check-in hallway. Whatever discomfort he'd feel would be decisively off-set by the copius vodka and rampant fucking. Those thoughts fueled his smile as they approached the International Terminal.

Damien was glad Natalia was by his side; he found it was ... hard to be in an airport. Damien hadn't been in one since setting foot off that C-10 in Germany, then the trans-Atlantic flight to La Guardia. He was more familiar with hangers than airports, but their defining similarity began to claw its way into Damien. The pangs of realization made him beyond uncomfortable, like being caught in a dark forest without food.

Airplanes.

The way children define the notion of a school; airplanes define an airport. Damien knew he needed to board one; how else was he supposed to get to Russia? They past a large, glass window as they walked, and a Boeing 747 could be seen taxiing from an accordion-like loading bridge. The distinctive whine of the jet engines echoed into and about the hollow Terminal with an affronting toll. That sound, far from sonorously nostalgic, meant only one thing to a military pilot --- it was time to strap in and deliver death from above. The recognition forced Damien to misstep, and a part of him wondered if he could continue. The urge to crack baseballs or drill a snare drum came hard and demanding. Damien fought past them all for the woman now watching him. He needed to keep his cool if he was going to help Natalia.

...............................................​

The sliding of her hand from his chest felt exhilarating, and Jackson found not knowing its destination or motive erotic. His heart raced, and Jackson was sure that Lily could feel his cheeks bulge as he smiled at her touch. It had been a long time since a woman's touch had graced his skin that way. Jackson almost closed his eyes, but then her touch had changed; Lily's hand no longer explored the contours of Jackson's face, but clung to it.

And then, Lily lifted her sweet face and kissed him.

Her lips were ... perfect. There was no other description. Her lips felt both supple and turgid, and glided across his as their kiss ended after some minutes. Those minutes were lost to Jackson, his apprehension discarded to embrace the sweet tenderness their mouths shared. Jackson's mind swam in an intoxicating cocktail of arousal and bliss, and Jackson was convinced the euphoria of their closeness could never have been replicated by another woman.

Jackson remained silent and dumbfounded as he held Lily's sleeping body close to his chest. She seemed so gentle and vulnerable as her chest rose and fell against him. Jackson's stare settled into a laconic gaze that scanned the far side of the room. He spotted the chair, the cupboards, along with his coat and firearm. Jackson's mind had begun to essentialism the environment of the room. His stomach clenched with a familiar hardness, one that manifested whenever Jackson was on-duty. Lily's kiss was the amazing in its tantalizing freedom, but it awoke another emotion within the man.

Jackson had verbally promised to never leave Lily again, and, in that moment, he made another in silence.

Lily, ... No one will ever hurt you again. I promise.
 
Ah, airports. They all had the same distinct feeling, whether in Russia or in the States. There was just something about them - the same way that hospitals all had the same type of scent and atmosphere. In airports, Natalia generally found that people tended to be on extreme ends of the emotional spectrum. Nobody lingered in a grey zone. There were those that were laughing and excited, nearly bouncing as they walked. Those tended to be either couples or large groups headed toward vacations in exotic locations. Then there were the criers. People who were devastated that somebody was leaving, and sobbed about it. Usually quite loudly. The last group that she tended to notice were the business people that she suspected were at a conference. Again. Just like last week. Those ones were always impatient, walking fast and muttering into cell phones about being late and how awful the flight was.

She ignored all of them today, instead focusing on the one at her side. Damien seemed happy, at first. He was smiling and gave her a look that made her want to jump him then and there. However, a few minutes later, his demeanor changed. She glanced at him a few times, noticing how his hold on her hand tightened a bit and how his smile faded. At first she didn't understand, but then she realized. Airport. Airplane. This was not going to be a lovely experience for Damien, was it? Would he freak out on the plane? Hopefully not. She pondered that for a few minutes, then paused as they walked by a little shop.

"Hey, do you want to grab a magazine or gum or something? Keep your mind off the flight?" she suggested, looking up at him with a concerned smile.

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Lily is still sleeping, as the seizure wore her out quite a bit. Therefore I have nothing to post here, really. Have some text. Isn't this super interesting? Also, you should play the part of the detective since it was your idea to change it to one of them as opposed to a normal cop. I assume that was your plan anyway. Good job. If you are reading this thread and your name isn't Sterling, you should rate this post with a rainbow so that we know who's stalking us. Thank you and have a great day.
 
Damien conceded his idiocy in that moment. Frank was absolutely right; it was too late to pretend he could cope with his PTSD. The mere sound of jet engines made his stomach lurch, and he could sense Natalia's nervous smile. She was fearful for him; he knew it, and didn't blame her. Damien wanted to clench his jaw and barrel through the pain and reflective misery. But, Natalia asked him to accompany her to Russia. What use would he be if he was prone to crippling flashbacks? Damien found his focus slipping away with the rushing force of an avalanche. Damien took Natalia's advice and headed toward the brightly lit HUDSON NEWS.

Damien passed the gum without a second glance. Although minted gum was Frank's go-to device for snapping his mind back from episodes of imagined violence, the idea of chewing on anything reminded Damien of those fucking "go-pills" he had to take to combat fatigue. Damien wandered toward the back corner, where a vertical stand stood, lined with rows of comic books. Feeling self-conscious and somewhat childish, Damien brought a copy of The Dark Knight to the cash register. He rolled up the comic and placed it into his coat pocket before meeting Natalia in the hallway. He gave her a smile and hoisted the bags over his shoulder once more. Damien's hand found hers as he followed her toward the International Terminal.

..................................................​

Detective Malone stared at his watch as the bell pinged announcing he's arrived at the 8th Floor. He'd read the brief on Lily Corrigan, and the victim came across as clean-cut, despite her seedy choice of profession. The presence of drugs in her system at the time of the accident was concerning, but that was only part of what the Detective came to find out. The driver who hit Lily, a Polish grandmother returning home from Bingo, had been more than cooperative. Mrs. Slovenska was, in fact, the one who notified the authorities and called the ambulance. Her testimony echoed those of by-standers that Lily Corrigan had been pushed into the street. The involvement of Mrs. Slovenska was accidental, the actions of this mystery man amounted to attempted manslaughter. It could have been pre-meditated or the random act of a malicious asshole; either way, there were answers that he needed to find.

The elevator doors opened quietly onto the sterile expanse of the 8th Floor. Detective Malone stepped out and ruffled the folds of his trench coat, hoping to dispel the pervasive scent of cigarettes that seemed to haunt him. He was, without question, the most unclean person in this fricking joint. The broad behind the nurse station was mildly attractive, he thought, though her aquiline nose and excessive use of lotion was a turn-off. She said something about Lily being in room 852, and likely awake now after several hours of sleep following a seizure.

The Detective watched the nurse lead him to the room and gently knock on the door.
 
Natalia lingered by the entrance to the shop, allowing Damien to go inside alone when he released her hand. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, gazing at him lovingly. All he was doing was walking around, looking from here to there, but she still could not shake the thought that he was hers. This silly man who was now cradling a comic book as though he was a teenager again was hers. She smiled, loving the faint blush on his cheeks when the cashier noticed what he was buying. Oh, her little soldier. She loved him so.

Once he was back at her side, she took his hand and laced her smooth fingers through the rougher ones that belonged to her beloved. They walked side by side to the International Terminal and the horror that was Customs. At first it was a breeze. They checked their bags, getting rid of Damien's need to carry everything around. Now they just had Natalia's smaller bag, which had useful things like gum in it. Next came the scanners. Again, fine. Then came the passport check. That didn't go so well. Natalia tried to explain in a sweet manner that she didn't exactly have a passport or a visa, but for some reason the security guard did not take that well. She ended up sitting in a little white room by herself while the Customs personnel questioned Damien.

Great.

Just.. great.

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Knock knock knock.

Lily heard the knocks, though she wasn't quite sure what they were at first. She had woken up moments before the nurse knocked and was busy stretching her body along Jackson's. Judging by his lack of movement, he had dozed off with her. She smiled at the thought and nearly snuggled up against him to wake him up with a tickle, but then the knocking actually registered in her brain. Knocking meant a visitor. Jackson couldn't be seen in her bed or he'd get in trouble. She squeaked and poked him repeatedly in the ribs.

"Stand up, stand up!" she whispered anxiously, trying not to laugh.
 
The wind-swept plains of South Dakota forged men and women who were self-sufficient to the point of paranoia, so Damien inherited a slight distrust of overt, governing institutions. However, being a military man had forced Damien to adopt a more lenient attitude about folks employed by the Federal Government. From Veteran Affairs to Social Security, military personnel learned to appreciate the vast, interconnected family that composed the American bureaucracy.

The one exception was the Transportation Safety Administration.

The TSA was as useless as tits on a bull. Damien preferred the IRS to the TSA any day of the week, and that was quite a statement considering Damien received multiple audit threats on his mother's assets before he collapsed them into her final estate. His extreme dislike of the TSA spawned from combining his despising of corporate security and air travel. Damien was accustomed to flashing a badge and breezing through security, past depots and armament bunkers to hangers lined with aircraft. At that moment, Damien was staring down an officious asshole named "Jerry" who disapproved of the container his shaving cream was stored in. Jerry stood beside an unnamed Customs Officer who was trying to deter Natalia from leaving the country.

"Mr. Greyson, the young woman has been staying in this country illegally. We can't simply let her go."

"And why not?" Damien asked.

"Because she committed a crime. A serious one."

"Whose penalty consists of deportation ... otherwise known as getting on a plane and flying her to her country of origin, right?"

"Sir!" Jerry announced, pouting a tough face, "I'm going to demand you watch your tone."

"Hey ... Cock-stain ... Why don't you go back outside and harass old women for having hair-spray in their luggage. The adults are talking here."

"Mr. Greyson," the Customs Officer said, "please ... You are free to travel. Ms. Veselovsky, however, is bound by Statute-"

"Wait ... She's a Russian Citizen. How is she under American jurisdiction?"

"There's a new Anti-Immigration bill that just past the President's desk, gives us the power to detain and seize assets in the domestic interest."

Damien pondered the Custom Officer's revelation. "You know she's headed home to-"

The Customs a Officer held his hands aloft. "Mr. Greyson, it doesn't matter."

"Let me finish, please?" Damien insisted. "Natalia is headed home to deal with her deceased father's estate. An estate being managed by lawyers with zero compunction to file suit in international court." The Customs Officer stood in silence, and that was when Damien knew he'd struck gold. "You know, I'd bet that the last thing the President needs for his newborn bill is for an immediate challenge in international court over something as menial as detaining a Russian citizen from returning home. Wouldn't you agree?"

The Customs Officer looked hard at Damien, and tapped his pen firmly upon the desk several times. "We're going to notify all of our stations from here to Juneau, AK with bulletins, warning them to refuse entry to Ms. Veselovsky unless he has perfect passport documentation. Is that understood?"

Damien smiles to himself, knowing he'd won the day. "I think so." Damien was hoisting both their bags when he met a nervous Natalia outside. "Come on, Baby ... We gotta plane to catch."

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Jackson awoke with start. A mid-day nap was an unexpected luxury given his poor sleep the night before. Jackson never napped during the day, though he considered how he might have to change that if Lily was involved. Jackson's front grew cold once he separated himself from Lily's slumbered warmth. It was a nice feeling, one he instantly missed and yearned for once again. But, that had to wait. Jackson straightened his uniform and turned in the room light switch just as the door opened.

The nurse held the door and allowed a grizzled man to enter. He wore a shabby suit, and a worn expression that could weather a hurricane. He walked in slowly, glancing about the room, then took a seat in the peach-colored chair. He looked up at Jackson, and spoke.

"This is private police business. You'll need to leave."

Jackson knew how police officers addressed security guards. They carried a veiled disgust for private security staff that was often not hid very well, if at all. The detective, by contrast, seemed indifferent to Jackson's profession, and was simply taking issue with his presence.

"With all due respect," Jackson said, "I'm Ms. Corrigan's security detail while she's in the hospital."

The detective furrowed his eyebrows as one might after a hangover has taken root. He leaned back and fished a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket, looking at the opened contents. "I don't see anything about a security detail on her status page." He turned to Lily. "I'm Detective Malone, by the way ... New York City Police Department."

Detective Malone regarded Jackson once more. His eyes drifted knowing over the pressed wrinkles in Jackson's clothing. "Look, I don't have much time. I can't let you stay unless you can prove Ms. Corrigan is under threat or if you have useful information. Otherwise, you can protect her just fine outside the door in the hallway ... Capiche?"
 
White walls. White ceiling. White table. White light. Jesus fucking christ, what was with white in here? Natalia had spent the past twenty minutes examining the room for lack of anything better to do. The ceiling was even smooth, which she thought was pretty damned inconsiderate. How was she supposed to occupy herself by counting tiles when there were none to count? Rude. The floor was some disgusting blue carpet that really did not deserve that title. Carpets were supposed to be soft. This was a hard spread of questionable cleanliness, and she would have sworn there was a piss stain in the far corner if she squinted hard enough at it. The table she had been ordered to sit at was spotless. If she leaned back to peer under it, she could see that the bars holding it up were a black metal. So, not all white, then. Still.. everything in view was white.

Except for the window.

Nothing said bad cop movie quite like a one-way window. Did they really think they were fooling people anymore with that whole mirrored glass trick? Oh, I'm sure they just installed that big mirror here for me so that I could see how atrocious I look in the fluorescent lighting! How kind of the airport to think of such a thing! Pah. She knew that there was a security officer sitting on the other side, likely half asleep or eating junk food while making sure she didn't get out. If she tried, she could make out the faint lines on the other side of the glass. All it took was good eyesight, really.

She sighed and leaned back in the chair, deciding that she would occupy herself with glaring at the window. No point in doing anything else. Maybe they would forget about her and she'd rot in here. What if they sent Damien away? He was hers, they couldn't do that. She scowled at the thought and crossed her arms, trying to avoid the thought of how badly she needed a hit right now. The walls seemed uncomfortably close now that she was really paying attention. She shifted anxiously, getting more and more upset until suddenly the door opened.

Damien.

She was up out of her chair in half a second, making her way around the table to take his hand in hers. He seemed so confident that she couldn't help but smile at him as she nodded. A plane. They were really leaving. She relaxed a bit and walked with him to the gate. There were no more problems as they showed their tickets and boarded the plane. Their seats were not fabulous, but not terrible either. A pair by the window on the right hand side, just in front of the wing. No small children around, and the seat next to their pair was left empty, which was nice. It seemed their closest neighbors would be elderly folks going home to Russia.

Once they figured out who would sit next to the window, Natalia sat down and tucked her bag down between her feet on the floor. The flight attendants were pacing the aisle, getting baggage into overhead compartments and showing people how to buckle up if they couldn't manage on their own. It would be a few minutes before they had clearance to take off, and Natalia took advantage of that time to lay her head on Damien's shoulder and try not to think about being trapped in the air for the next several hours.

"Thank you for coming with me."

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Lily heard the faint flick of the lightswitch, but of course that gesture did nothing for her. It would be helpful if the new visitor could see, though. She half hoped it was Natalia coming back. That was silly since she knew her friend had gone to Russia, but it was a much better alternative to what she suspected was the truth - the cops had finally come to see her. A brief questioning concerning what had happened was what she hoped for. She would lie once again about the drugs and how she got them, and then the cops could go on their merry way to help somebody who actually wanted to be helped.

There were footsteps. Slow, heavy. One person. She tilted her head a fraction, listening as a weight settled in to the chair next to the bed. From the sound of it, she knew immediately that it was not Jackson. His steps didn't sound like that. Her thoughts were confirmed immediately as the newcomer spoke. Police business. Ew. She frowned slightly, listening as Jackson put up a brief argument and was quickly rebuffed.

Malone. Like the song? Riding with Private Malone.. Great, now there was a song stuck in her head. What if this detective was a ghost too?

Focus, Lily, focus..

"Jackson, it's fine," she murmured, turning her head toward the security guard that she was rapidly growing so fond of. His voice was concerned and she knew that he was reluctant to leave, but she doubted that this detective presented any sort of threat to her. He'd ask things and be gone. Plus, he had said capiche, and that amused her to no end. Did people really still say that? Wasn't that something that belonged nowhere outside of black and white films? Those bad westerns that aired at two o'clock in the morning.. "I'm okay."
 
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Damien leaned down and delivered an erotic kiss, his hands holding Natalia's cheek before cupping her breast and resting upon her lap. His brown eyes bored into her gray, and their noses brushed together lovingly.

"Baby, I'd do anything for you."

The flight attendant paused uncomfortably when she spotted the couple gazing at one another with full attention. Damien failed to notice her existence, but the woman donned a face of one enthralled by the force of powerful love. She stopped briefly to pull a blanket from an upper storage compartment. She leaned in slightly and laid it upon the open seat next to Natalia.

"In case you get cold during the flight," she said in broken English.

Damien regarded her for but a moment to nod quickly in gratitude before returning to those perfect gray pools. The flight attendant continued down the aisle, each heeled step after the next. The rest of the passengers were alone, even when with someone else. She wondered what that must feel like - to be completely engrossed by another soul and consumed entirely. The attendant shifted breathlessly into her seat and buckled herself in when the announcement came that the flight was cleared for take-off.


...........................................​

Jackson straightened at Lily's assurance, being dismissed engendered more divergent and conflicting emotions within the man than he thought possible. His stomach caved in along the middle, and he hoped inhaling heartily would mask his unease. Lily couldn't see how Jackson clenched his jaw, and set his face under the watchful eye of the NYC Detective.

"I'll ... just be outside then, ... if you need me."

The door swung silently behind Jackson, and closed with the faintest click. The room was silent for sometime, and the detective could be heard craning his neck, observing the state of the room. Then he rose and went fishing in the trash can, bypassing the biohazard lid. He could be heard handling plastic cylinders and container bags with a casual curiousity. When he sat down in the chair, the sound of his hand stroking his stubbled chin met Liky's ears before his question.

"So, ... how long have you and Jackson been together?"
 
Natalia smiled against Damien's lips, kissing him with every ounce of loving passion that she could muster. If it hadn't been for sitting in the restrictive seats of the airplane, she likely would have started stripping him right then and there. She gazed up at him when he pulled away, delighted by his words until she heard a faint whoosh of something being set down next to her. Blinking, she half turned and looked up at the woman. Russian, no doubt. Her accent gave it away. Natalia offered her a faint smile of thanks but her eyes were watchful. No female was going to get close to Damien if she could help it. Once the flight attendant began to walk away, she turned her attention back to her lover.

"Time for take-off," she murmured in Damien's ear, her hand caressing the inside of his thigh. This was going to prove to be a very interesting flight.. especially since they now had a blanket. She grinned at the thought and picked up the soft covering, using it to cover Damien up as if he was chilly. It effectively hid the movements of her hand, which was now starting to unbutton his pants as the plane taxied down the runway.

"I think you should kiss me again.. for good luck, on the flight."

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Lily could hear Jackson's reluctance to go in his voice, but she was confident that she could handle one little detective. She had a sneaking suspicion that the security officer was going to be hovering right outside the door, just in case. The thought made her smile a bit. She heard the door close behind him and she waited, but the detective was not the chatty sort. Instead of words, she was listening to movements. The creak of the chair as he rose, the crinkling sounds of him rummaging through something. Boring. What did he even need her in here for? This was all quite pointless.

"Since he walked into this room at the end of his rounds," she replied to his question sweetly, purposely not giving him the type of answer he was looking for. Of course she knew what he meant, but she also knew that his question had absolutely nothing to do with the real reason he was here. She wasn't about to indulge his gossip side. Jackson was none of his business.
 
The blanket felt soft and Damien thought Natalia motherly as he spread the cover over him. That impression quickly changed with his pulse as a naughty smile infested her eyes and lips. The seat molded to Damien's weight as he shifted his pelvis under Natalia's hand, which silently unbuckled his pants. One arm was around her waist, the other cradled her forearm, encouraging her further. The cabin lights powered down and individual overhead lamps clicked on. But, Damien failed to notice. His eyes were closed, and his tongue drove deeper into Natalia's eager mouth.

...............................................​

Though blind, Lily could hear the detective smile as he sharply exhaled through his nose, as if laughing to himself. "You're one smart woman, Lily Corrigan. Anybody ever tell you that?" The chair crinkled and the leather pulled as the detective leaned back comfortably. "I don't normally have the luxury of such plush accommodations. But, I suppose we should get down to business."

Detective Malone leaned forward and shifted the palms of his hands in light friction. "I want to start off by saying that you're not in trouble. Alright? You came in here with drugs in your system, and how that happened doesn't matter. Interviews have confirmed you're normally clean, so unless you've been induced against your will, I could care less."

Lily's keen ears easily detected the crinkling, exterior wrapper of a cigarette carton. Detective Malone held a single cigarette in his fingers, and his gravely voice took on a generous tenor. "I don't suppose you wanna smoke before we begin?"
 
Natalia didn't bother reaching up to turn on the little lights so that they could see to read. There was no need. She was perfectly content sitting in the dark with Damien, keeping him pinned in his plush little corner as his tongue caressed hers. Her free hand grasped the arm rest between them and pushed it up out of the way, freeing her body to press against his side. If anybody looked, they would appear to be snuggling and kissing. No big deal. Hopefully nobody would look too long and complain. After all, there was an empty seat next to them, so it wasn't as though they were leaning against anybody.

"Mm.." she breathed, giving him only the tiniest of moans as her hand slid into his pants under the blanket. She kept her voice as quiet as possible, barely audible for him. Hopefully he would start moaning on his own. The thought made her smile. Poor flight attendant. Pah. As if she cared. Her fingers were busy pushing Damien's pants down out of the way completely, opening up the hidden area to start toying with him freely.

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"Not lately."

It was true. Lily had been told she was smart once. It had been Natalia, actually. The Russian woman had been surprised when Lily was able to easily split the tips for the bartenders without stopping to think about it. That was the only time she could recall anybody remarking on her intelligence in a positive manner. There was plenty of negative. Her teachers, her parents, most of her friends.. Did they count as friends when they thought her to be nothing but a pretty ditz who knew how to work a pole? The thought made her uncomfortable. She focused on the detective instead, listening as he assured her that she wasn't in trouble.

"No, thank you," she murmured at his cigarette offer, then she tilted her head. "If I am not in trouble for being high out of my mind, and the doctors have cleared me to go.. I'm fairly certain I haven't killed anybody lately and there is no warrant out for my arrest that I've been made aware of. So.. Forgive me, Detective, but I'm not sure why you're here."
 
Twenty-four hours ago, Damien would never have guessed he'd be sitting on a trans-continental flight being pleasured. The thrill of being publically stroked -albeit under a blanket- nearly equaled the physical sensations galvanizing Damien's body. He hooked his thumbs into his underwear and slid everything down toward his thighs, giving Natalia complete and unfettered access. The investment was worthwhile, and soon shivers raced across his mid-section as Natalia's delicate fingers touched him in just the right ways.

Part of the thrill was the denial. As Natalia began to work upon him, he wanted nothing more than to lay her down and fuck her brains out. Hard. Instead, Damien contained his burning desire, and focused upon what he could receive, which was not lacking in any capacity. The magic was that Natalia took her time, and applied a glorious combination of pressure and motion. She felt him with an absolute knowledge of what she was performing, and seemed to be intimately aware of his every contour. The flicks of her thumb nearly sent him over the edge on a number of occasions, and Damien reciprocated by fondling Natalia's breasts lovingly.

If Damien was afflicted by any trauma or psychological distress, he did not feel anything less than building bliss as the plane accelerated down the runway.

...............................................​

The irony of drug addiction was not lost on Detective Malone as he fidgeted the cigarette needily. He produced a Zippo lighter. The pale gold device was unadorned, and the anodized edges were worn from decades of mild rubbing. The detective was rubbing the edges then, stroking it with his finger as he sat and regarded Lily Corrigan.

"Lily, I gotta be honest with you. I really wanna light up in here, and you seem like the kinda girl that wouldn't complain, even if it bothered you. Especially, if it bothered you. I did some digging, and it's a miracle you haven't buried a hatchet in your dad's head. No one would blame you ... I certainly wouldn't.

"But, you asked why I'm here ... You and I are similar in a very important way. We're not fucking animals. We don't light up when others might suffer respiratory disorders, we don't beat our children because we have anger-management issues, and we don't push innocent civilians into the street into oncoming traffic.

"Lily, I don't care if you were high that night. But, someone attempted third-degree murder by pushing you into traffic, and I've been following his trail for sometime. The boys in blue write tickets and chase shop-lifters; I chase the really dangerous ones. He was a drug dealer named Marco Celistas, and I'd like any information you have on him."
 
Once the plane began to accelerate and lift in to the air, Natalia was forced back against her seat by the pressure. Even in this position she could easily reach Damien and continue on with what she was doing. Her body remained turned toward his, shielding his lap from view if any casual people decided to walk by before the seatbelt light flicked off. She could feel how hard he was and how much he was throbbing beneath her touch, which made her smile wickedly as she pulled her hand away and looked up at him. Evil? Maybe. A tease? Definitely. If they were going to survive for several hours, she couldn't give him a big celebration right now.

"Once we're leveled off we should use the restroom," she murmured in his ear, tipping her head to the side as she gave him a smile. Honestly, she wasn't sure if he'd go for it. She had gotten him all riled up but that was no guarantee that Mister Clean Cut was prepared to go at it in an airplane bathroom. Actually, he had come running to a strip club. Perhaps a plane was not so farfetched.

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Lily frowned uncomfortably as Detective Malone mentioned her father. Digging? What sort of digging? Sure, the neighbors had called a couple times when they heard thuds and screaming through the walls, but that was years ago. What did the detective know..? Nobody knew the truth. She felt incredibly uneasy not knowing the precise details of how far his knowledge stretched. Staying silent, she listening as he explained why he was there. It wasn't about drugs at all, or her parents. He just wanted to know about the person who pushed her in front of the car.

Well, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

"I don't have any," she said, shaking her head. "I wasn't even looking at him when I collided with him. I didn't know I was actually pushed until somebody told me here after. All I know is that I was walking across the street, ran into somebody, and ended up on my ass in front of a car. I didn't get a look at him or anything.. I was kinda more focused on the headlights coming at my face."

Everything that Lily had said was completely honest, but.. she still felt as though she was lying. It was true she didn't know this Marco person, and she hadn't seen him. However, Natalia had already been in here and told her that the guy was her drug dealer. That meant Natalia knew exactly who he was, and she was likely the reason he was at the club in the first place. Plus, she probably knew where he was and how to get in touch with him. Thankfully Natalia was in Russia now, or at least on her way there. The detective would have to do his own digging to find the guy.
 
Damien's eyes were closed, but he was far from still. His entire body writhed from Natalia's expert handling. She controlled his reactions with the finesse of a pilot grasping a joystick, and seemed to delight in every facial expression she was able to summon from Damien. Finally, his breaths, masked by the roar of jet engines, took on an all to familiar tone and ended in low, manly moans.

When Natalia's fingers released their grip, they grazed his scrotum before running up his chest. Damien finally opened his eyes; they were dilated and lustful. Natalia's suggestion of the bathroom was met not with words, but action. After Damien discretely lifted his trousers, he stretched his leg out across the three seats. He turned Natalia to face the aisle, and made her lean back onto Damien. The blanket was pulled up over Natalia's front, and she could feel Damien's erection poking her back. Damien's hands explored the contours of Natalia's body under the blanket and he slowly unfastened her pants and slowly reached inside.

Damien's mouth spoke next to Natalia's ear from behind. "I can't wait to get you into that bathroom."

...............................................​

"Huh. That's too bad, ... really a shame."

Detective Malone could be heard scribbling down Lily's testimony. Heavy sighs punctuated his effort like periods at the end of sentences, and he finished with the sound of his hand rubbing his coarse, stubbled chin.

"Of course, I'm also interested in what brought Marco to your club in the first place. I'd like to know about Natalia Veselovsky ... I was wondering if you could give me some insight into her connection with Marco."

...............................................​

Jackson paced up and down the corridor slowly, never wanting to be too far from Lily's room. Whenever his circuit returned to her door, Jackson would lean close, and rest his ear upon the wood. He hoped to glean some sound of what was transpiring between Lily and the detective. Jackson looked at his watch. It was past noon, and his lunch hour had started. It was then that the security guard realized he had not eaten in quite some time. In fact, his stomach began to ache. It didn't matter, he wasn't about to abandon Lily, and he sat down next to the door, listening.
 
At first, Natalia was confused when Damien began to move since the plane was still rising. She soon figured out his reasoning once he had turned her and pulled her against him, though. His hard length prodded against her and she knew that he needed release. It was impressive enough that he wasn't stripping her down and taking her right there. Or.. perhaps she spoke too soon. The blanket was soft and just large enough to cover her front, hiding his exploring hands. She shifted just a little, her hips pressing up into his hand when she felt his fingers migrating down there.

Just when she was ready to say 'fuck it' and just hop up in his lap, she felt the plane level out. The seatbelt light flicked off and one of the flight attendants was announcing that they were now free to move about the cabin. A quick glance revealed that nobody was moving yet. Good. That meant the bathroom was empty. It was time to make a move. She nudged his hands away and quickly fastened her pants, handing him the blanket and leaning over to gently nibble his ear.

"Wait a minute, then follow me," she whispered, delighted by this game. She stood and made her way back to the restroom, knocking once before opening it. Empty as expected. She went inside and shut the door, leaving it unlocked as she glanced around. Not a whole lot of room to move, but there was a small counter space next to the sink that she could sit on if Damien stood in front of her for balance. Turbulence might be their best friend. She smirked and sat on the edge of the counter, waiting.

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Lily froze. Natalia? The detective already knew about Natalia? He was much better informed than she had assumed. She knew that her sudden silence was as good as telling him that she knew everything, but she couldn't help it. This made everything complicated. What was she supposed to say? Of course, she knew the answer. Natalia's connection to Marco was that she was his client. That was obvious. Marco was a big-time drug dealer and Natalia had been looking for a hit after forgetting her drugs with Lily. The pieces were not hard to put into place. She still didn't know why Marco had been such a dick and shoved her into traffic, but he was probably just pissed off about something. That didn't matter. What mattered was trying to figure out how to keep Natalia out of trouble.

"Natalia used to be one of Marco's clients," she finally said. "I don't know why you care about her, but I will tell you that she's a friend of mine and I'm not going to sit here and help you dig around in her life. She's not even in the country anymore. So.. just leave her alone."
 
It took all of Damien's willpower to not follow behind Natalia like a pathetic puppy in pursuit of a treat. His eyes watched her lustfully, and he thought she gave a last smirk before stalking back to the bathroom. The minutes he waited seemed to take an eternity, and his imagination delved deeply with his desire for Natalia. He had made love sweetly to her the night before, a powerful coitus fueled by intense affection and fidelity. This was different; Damien wanted to lay Natalia down and fuck her lithe, little body till she cried for mercy. A smile crept across Damien's horny face as he thought Natalia would never cry for mercy - she would absorb everything ... every passionate thrust Damien dished out, and happily ask for more.

The very thought of Natalia's capacity for him, and her resilience, made Damien crave her more. He couldn't wait a moment longer, having willfully lost count of time. Damien was unconcerned if someone noticed them entering together, and rose to silently walk as discreetly as possible with a throbbing erection. If he cared, he might have shifted his pants, but an undeniable bulge led Damien to the bathroom door. Damien gave thanks for the loud, drone of the jet engines that would mask the moaning. He cracked the door open, smiled, then locked the sliding door behind him.

.................................................​

"Ha ..."

Detective Malone chuckled lightly, shifting the lone cigarette into his mouth unlit. A pad of paper was unfurled, and he began to scribble down notes with an extravagant flair.

"You got spunk, kid. I'll give you that. But, you gotta do a better job of picking yer battles. And the lying ... Ya gotta stop lying so much. Not only is it fucking obnoxious, but if I were after you instead of Marco, you'd be in a cell right now."

A long, thoughtful exhale vented through Detective Malone's nostrils. "Part of my job is investigation. Another part is corroboration ... the girls at the Club have already pegged your friend Natalia as Marco's most likely customer. If I was a dick, I could charge her as an accessory ... But, we both know that's untrue. Besides, she's your friend."

"Tell me, Lily ... Do you have many friends?"
 
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This is me not writing out the hot sex scene because I don't want this post moved to the Libertine section. But trust me, it's super hot and exhausting. Also extremely satisfying. It's amazing they didn't get chucked out of the bathroom, but I'm sure they ignored the banging on the door in favor of moaning more. Heh heh.

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"I'm not lying," Lily muttered, frowning and crossing her arms defensively. She had been honest with him, at least that time. This was swiftly getting off track. There was no reason to put her in jail and she knew it. Also, she had no idea why he was concerned with Natalia. The woman was in Russia and she had said she was trying to get clean. There was no point in chasing her down. She frowned more, about to ask what his deal was, when he started speaking again. Her silence stretched, first as she thought of how awful the club girls were for pointing fingers. Then her thoughts focused on herself.

Friends?

She shifted uncomfortably, doing her best not to think of how the other kids had always avoided her in school when she was younger. Friends was never something that she could have. Even when somebody dared to speak to her, to get somewhat close to her, they ended up getting scared off. She would invite them over only to have her father run them out in a drunken rage, or she would accept an invitation to dinner only to overhear their parents whispering to them not to invite the 'strange dirty girl' back again. Being an adult was no different. There were the club girls, who didn't really care much, except for Natalia. She only cared when she wasn't high or looking for a hit. It was a part-time friendship. There was nobody that she truly relied on other than her parents.. and Jackson.

That didn't count as 'many'.

"I don't see how that question would help you with Marco," she finally said, a bit upset.
 
The dreary glare of the bathroom light barely filtered through Damien's closed eyes. His hand pressed against the wall behind Natalia, the other encircled his Russian lover. He saw nothing, but felt everything - the supple cushion of her breasts as they pressed against his chest, her lips as they migrated around his neck, and her acceptance as he continued to empty himself inside of her warmth. The world inside the bathroom spun, and he understood why the Mile-High-Club mystique held such allure. Damien had experienced many exciting moment while airborne, most involved his pulling a trigger and watching ground targets explode to bits. This, though, ... this topped them all. Natalia proved the extent of her flexibility over the last fifteen minutes. Damien never imagined anyone could contort so completely; her ankles around his neck surprised him, and ended up summoning his orgasm with unexpected vigor.

The cool, forced air sent goosebumps along Damien's skin as he dressed himself. The airplane bathroom was cramped, which meant their clothes didn't stray far. The process of dressing came slow, since Damien couldn't help but lavish Natalia with an unending supply of erotic, emotionally-charged kisses. Once Natalia scooted around him, Damien made certain there wasn't any residual evidence of their love-making; they may have been brazen, but they were not inconsiderate. Damien waited for Natalia to finish dressing herself before unlocking the door. He felt better knowing there were two bathrooms on the plane, and the other passengers should not have been too put out.

A drowsy weight pushed down on Damien's eyelids, and he took Natalia in his arms once more. "Think you could teach me some Russian while I fall asleep in your arms?"

......................................................​

"Doesn't affect my investigation so much as your safety. Marco's a vicious sonafabitch, and might come after you. I doubt it though ... Marco has pissed off a lot of folks. It's just a matter of time before he screws up and ends up dead."

Detective Malone dreamed of being the one to take down the drug-dealing criminal. Marco left behind a trail of misery and suffering wherever he went, and Lily was but the most recent victim. Between the deaths, maimings, over-doses, Detective Malone prayed there was a special place in hell for Marco Celistas to balance the unbridled agony he'd caused while on this earth. Marco's success in maintaining his pathetically sloppy criminal activity rested, in part, upon his propensity to either intimidate witnesses or make them disappear.

"Still, in the meantime, I need to know you're safe and you've got places to go."

Malone had had this same conversation with the woman who drove into Lily, Mrs. Slovenka. Luckily, her husband possessed an ethnic toughness despite his advanced age. Detective Malone worried that Lily was not as fortunate.
 
Natalia was convinced once again that Damien was stronger than drugs. When she was with him in the most intimate of ways, she could not focus on anything else. There was only Damien, only her beloved holding her body against his. Even now, after the passion had faded, she was lost in him. The way that he caressed her cheek, the little quirk of his smile as he caught his breath. There was a look of happy surprise in his eyes. Apparently, going at it in an airplane restroom was everything he had hoped for. He seemed to be in shock.. in a good way. She smiled and slid down from the small counter space, stretching as best as she could before redressing next to him. Now perhaps they could get through this flight in peace.

Once she was back in her seat, she pulled the blanket over herself and Damien to make a nice little warm cocoon. Of course, it was not the blanket that gave her comfort, but rather the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. They were strong, as always. So safe. She relaxed against him, able to feel just as much at home as she would if they were back in her apartment eating cookies. His request made her smile. Well, he didn't say what sort of Russian he wanted to learn..

"Of course," she murmured, kissing his cheek and snuggling closer.

"пошел на хуй. It means 'thank you'. Say it with me.. Po'shyol.. 'na.. hui. It's not gender-specific or anything like that, like how France messes with shit. Just a general 'thanks', like in English," she explained with a smile, wondering how long it would take him to attempt to thank somebody and telling them to fuck off instead.

Hopefully he didn't get shot.

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"I'm not scared."

Odd as it may seem to the detective, Lily was telling the truth. She was too used to threats and people coming after her from all sides to get worked up about the idea of some random guy 'possibly' coming after her. What was he going to do, walk into the hospital and strut his way through security with a gun? She highly doubted that she was on top of his priority list. After all, she had been too high to focus and didn't know what he looked like. Hell, this detective could be Marco and she wouldn't have a clue. A drug dealer who caused as much trouble as this guy probably didn't have time to chase around girls who had been struck blind. At this point, even if she had seen him, she couldn't ID him in a line up.

She was so terribly useful.

Of course, being accustomed to that sort of thing was not the only reason that Lily was not in a panic. In the back of her mind, she was remembering what Jackson had said. He had promised her that he would not leave her. Even setting that aside, he had invited her to live with him instead of going back to her parents. She knew on an instinctual level that Jackson would protect her if he could.. and she knew that he could.

"I have somewhere to go. I have a plan. I will be safe, Detective."
 
"P'shyol na hui," Damien repeated. He could not have been happier in that moment, being in the arms of the woman who truly made him feel whole. The trepidation Damien felt in the airport was gone, and the whining of the jet engines fell back into Damien's subconscious with the ease of when he was a pilot. His eyes no longer wished to fight the overbearing urge to sleep, and Damien fell into a dreamless slumber for some hours.

..........................................................​

"I certainly hope so, Lily."

Detective Malone lifted himself from the sagging peach chair, and stretched, deciding that the idea of the chair's comfort was, but, an illusion. Oh, well, he thought, it was comfy for a time. The detective scanned the room and observed the numerous bouquets and flower arrangements located on various counters and tables. "You certainly are popular with some folks." Detective Malone pulled two cards from his wallet, and laid one upon the bedside table. "Lily, I'm leaving my card with you. I don't know if your eyesight will improve, so I'll also give my card to your boyfriend waiting outside." Malone smirked as he straightened his long coat. "You being alive is a liability to Marco ... Marco or no, I want to make sure you stay that way. Contact me if you hear anything or need help."

Jackson stood up promptly when Detective Malone entered the hallway. The detective's contact card landed in Jackson's hands before he could speak. "She's gonna need you," Malone told Jackson. "Contact me if you need ID information ... Lily can fill you in on the details." Jackson watched silently as the detective ambled toward the nurse station, tipping his hat at an indignant nurse, then making toward the elevators. A Zippo lighting was already in his hand, and that cigarette was lit before the elevator doors closed.
 
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