A smooth extension pushed the dumbbells into a tense lateral press and held them momentarily before bringing them down. resetting to do it again. Breath released and arms once more equalized in a stressed flex. The process repeated over and over again, the strain evident by the thin gloss of perspiration coating his bare flesh.

The count cumulated to an even twenty, concluding the fourth set of the repetitious series. Sitting up, he returned the weights to the stand just off to the side.

Euriya Shilo had the gym built on the backend of his office building for days much like this; when time seemed to creep by and the only form of excitement was the explosive release of endogenous opioid polypeptide compounds. There were slow days, and then there were days when time dulled to an idle simmer.

He wasn't ignorant to his success, though, and knew he had plenty to be thankful for; namely a booming psychiatric clinic that was independent of any state funded regime. Rhy'din's regulations and jurisdiction were vastly different than the California board of psychiatry, which made the procedure of setting up his office a bit easier than expected, but the one thing that he was determined about was his independence from any sort of board or council.

Still, business was good, with new clientele requesting his services daily. He found that the problems harbored by the Rhy'din populace were far more unique than those of the everyday Californian, and yet somehow all of the resolutions were similar, at least in the broad spectrum. Demonic princes and Lupe Garou half-gods were searching for companionship, just as fallen angels and shadowy warriors were desperately seeking a sense of self-identity and awareness. He often mused about the reflective concordance the two cultures shared; equal parallelisms strewn across divergent amplitudes.

He stood from the workout bench and headed across the room, snatching a small towelette from its draped recline over the bench-press bar. Approaching the full-length mirror that dominated the entire eastern wall, Euriya gave a lengthy study of the swollen masculinity that laced his exposed torso, a secret indulgence in narcissism. He had been called vain at times in his life, though never thought that it was so out of control to be considered a problem. As far as he was concerned, he had worked pretty hard to keep his body in good shape, and it didn't hurt anyone or anything by taking a moment to admire the craftsmanship.

Thumbs tucked into the waistband of his shorts and, with an easy bend, down they came. One foot and then another stepped free, a snapping kick sending the expelled attire into a whirling upward spin that he snatched easily out of the air. Another moment taken in self-admiration, this time of his fully exposed nakedness, a turn to the side offering a study of both size and length of certain areas. Narcissistic indulgence intensified.

Draping the shorts over his shoulder he turned and headed for the singular column of tile, glass, and porcelain situated off to the side of the room. He had never heard of a designer shower before, though the chic architecture and exorbitant price tag gave him a sense of ostentatious ownership. The shorts went from his shoulder to the sterling bar that possessed a twin set of full-length cream-colored towels, tossed carelessly atop them as he stepped in and shut the glass door behind. Almost. Halfway in he just couldn't do it and stepped back out, removing the shorts from the towels and hurling them toward the half-opened hamper just a few feet away. It might have been a little obsessive-compulsive - he wouldn't deny it.

Cold. That is how he liked the water after a hard workout. It helped him get refocused, to harness all of the thrumming energy ignited by extensive stress and conditioning. The frosty jet bit his flesh as though fangs from a serpent and didn't let go, and while he wanted to step out and remove himself from the harsh touch of the chilled water, he didn't. He never did. He always stayed. A marine had taught him this trick. A good marine. A great soldier.

A great brother.

Soap, scrub, and rinse. It was easy and quick. Stepping out, he dried himself with meticulous precision, watching his reflection as the opaque towel roamed across darkly tanned flesh and extracted the shimmering sheen of dampness, leaving behind dry and clean skin.

A rumble from his stomach, described only as absurd, filled the room with a sudden laugh. He had missed breakfast that morning thanks to a late start, and now his body was telling him that it was through being patient. It wanted to be fed.

He pushed the intercom button and waited until the voice came through from the other side.

"Yes, Dr. Shilo?"

Dusky Beaumont. She was his personal assistant. Instead of a staff, he had only Dusky, and that was good enough. Somehow she was able to manage a series of jobs that would take half a dozen people to do, and yet always have a smile on her face, ready and willing for more.

He pushed the button again. "Let's go grab a bite to eat. Sound good?"

Four hundred and ninety-one...four hundred and ninety-two...

Eight more. Keep working.

Four hundred and ninety-three...four hundred and ninety-four...

Don't you quit, pus*y. Don't you quit now.

Four hundred and ninety-five...four hundred and ninety-six...

Four more. Get four more.

Four hundred and ninety-seven...four hundred and ninety-eight...

Two more...

Four hundred and ninety-nine...

One more, pus*y...one f**king more....

Five hundred.

With a desperate pant Euriya dropped from the steel bar, landing with a thump against the carpeted floor of his apartment and instantly turning toward the stand just a foot or two away that carried his bottle of water, towel, and stop-watch. He reached out and took the watch first, hitting the button on the side to stop the count and then set it back down without looking. Second, took up the towel and draped it over his shoulder before unscrewing the lid of the water bottle. He brought the plastic container to his parched lips and tilted back his head to consumed the quenching contents.

Thirst, however, was only one of the things satisfied.

Though his mouth was centered on the bottle, his focus was elsewhere, namely the nearby mirror that was easily visible. With a thorough intensity he studied the reflection, analyzing every detail of what he saw. He wore only a pair of spandex bicycle shorts - the chalky white color a severe contrast to the golden hue of his tanned skin - to better show off the ripples of muscle that laced his athletic physique. Years had been spent eating correctly and exercising with a diligent routine that pushed the boundaries of physical fitness. He held his stance perfectly still, examining everything, from the bulbous swell of his bicep as it held the tilted water bottle, to the detailed framework of a chiseled chest and even down along the eight individual squares that comprised a turtle-shell abdominal region. It was flawless, masterfully honed since his freshman year in High School, and the payoff was everything he wanted it to be.

He lowered the bottle to the table and grabbed the watch, finally checking the time.

31:28:15.

Composure quickly emerged and warded off the onset of irritation. The world record for pull-ups in a thirty-minute window was five hundred and forty held by Stephen Hyland of Great Brittan and Euriya was determined to break it, though that determination was starting to wane. If he couldn't break five hundred in thirty minutes, how the hell was he going to reach five forty-one?

He turned, pausing a moment to inspect the taut bulge of impressive glutes in the mirror, and then headed down the hall to the bathroom. He had a busy day ahead of him and would need some time to get ready. The shower was cold, just the way he liked it, and got his mind straight. Hot showers, even warm ones, caused his wits to settle into a listless ease that lacked focus and depth. The icy shock of cold water did the trick every time, igniting concentration just moments after the first few drops touched his skin. He clenched his teeth and scrubbed those defined muscles with a fresh bar of ivory scented soap before soaking every inch in the polar deluge.

With the Egyptian-cotton length of a yellow bath towel wrapped tightly around his waist he made his way back through the hall toward his bedroom. With the mental agenda rolling through his mind he glanced into his office as he made his way past, the sight of his luxurious desk littered with papers and manila folders offered a sense of headquarters, even if only in passing.

One step past the door he stopped, paused, and then took a step backwards to again look inside the office, brows furrowing with lucidity as he confirmed seeing what he thought he saw.

There, wadded up just beneath the framework of the desk, nestled against one of the small legs was a silky garment the shade of pink that many would call 'bubble-gum'.

With measured steps he approached the counter, losing sight of the small bundle as he became flush with its ledge, a pen taken from the metal-mesh stable upon his desk that kept an assortment of such instruments handy. With a simple bend he brought the wad back into view, one hand planted on the countertop for balance, and with the pen he speared the cushiony material just enough not to pierce it, but to gather it upon the pen's tip. He stood, taking the pink wad with him, bringing it up to eye level for a closer inspection.

He recognized the garment. In midrise the bundle unraveled to reveal its true form: that of a silky lace thong trimmed in white lace; the thin strings held together in the back with a decorative golden heart. He remembered buying it four months ago as a birthday present, and also recalled sliding it down the supple length of Dusky's long legs before the inaugural celebration of their first actual client in Rhy'din.

Once they had concluded, while collecting all of the items and articles they carelessly swept off of his desk after being possessed by fervent yearning, he made it very clear to her that he wanted no evidence of the encounter left behind. She had promised him that she would be meticulous in her recovery of personal belongs and effects.

She had missed one.

In his fist he balled up the lingerie and exited the room. He would be sure to have a talk with Miss. Beaumont about this little hiccup.

A long, stern, fervent discussion.

(( Cross posted from Doctor's Orders ))


With the thin rim pinched between his forefinger and thumb, Euriya drew the eyeglasses from their perch upon the bridge of his nose and tossed them on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his torso and legs as much as he could while reclined in such a prone position, and unleashed a yawn that was the epitome of such an action's definition.

In his hand he held a letter, and upon this letter was scribed the very detailed encounter of his most scandalous patient. He knew when he had given her the instructions to notate her next three engagements that they would be in-depth -- lucid details that would put most smut magazines to shame -- but what he hadn't expected was the recipient of her endeavors to be one so close to home. The concurrence composed on the page that he held wasn't about some random stranger or regulatory lover, but about his sweet and astute secretary, Dusky Beaumont.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the imagery that such a cogent recollection generated, concerned that perhaps it was one of the patient's many powers that caused his mind to swirl with vivid clarity. He was well aware that taking on a patient such as her would be dangerous, though he had to admit that never once had he felt susceptible or exposed by her. If anything, the sincerity she showed in their sessions pertaining to a better internal understanding of herself seemed absolutely genuine.

Again, a twinge of concern flared. He needed to make sure that he wasn't mixing sincerity with persuasion.

He wasn't exactly sure how to handle such an occurrence either. While it did cross professional boundaries, Euriya wasn't sure if those protocols were accurate any longer in their new home. The procedures they had outlined in their medical principles were intended for a world where seduction couldn't be magically obtained with the wink of an eye. Where they came from, such powers didn't exist, so having a doctrine that forbade voluntary involvement in such activities was logical and, in a word, necessary. Here, practicing medicine in a world filled with angels and werewolves and dragons and wraiths, the mundane connotation of their ideology was dulled of its philosophical threat, and ostensibly obsolete.

"Doctor?" Came the sweet southern accent of his secretary over the intercom. "There is a reporter from The Post on line two. Says he'd like to talk to you about a pending investigation."

"Thank you, Miss Beaumont." He replied as his eyes turned back and forth between the page and the blinking face of the system phone. Perhaps he wouldn't have to handle it at all. "Miss Beaumont, I need you to come here for a second. There is a paper I need you to file away."

The water was so cold that it bit his flesh and pierced his blood. Muscle subconsciously constricted to protect against the chilly stream that descended from up high and washed down over a rippling canvas of sinew and goosebumps.

As a psychiatrist, Euriya understood the legendary myth beyond man's ritualistic 'cold shower' and never truly put a lot of stock in the concept; dismissing it as nothing more than a fabricated mind game played on one's self. However, after the date he had with Rhy'din's most prestigious Realtor, even he was becoming a believer.

Oddly enough, from a distance, he would have never seen her as a viable option for a relationship angling toward the long-term. She was goofy. No, not goofy. Silly, that was a better way to put it. While insanely beautiful, she was very silly and young, harnessing a demeanor that was far too capricious and carefree for one of his esteem to truly enjoy. They weren't a fit. They really weren't. And yet somehow their dates were never dull and seemed to end far too early.

For instance: the previous night. Forty-eight minutes were spent in his car just outside of her apartment at the Zen Garden enjoying a litany of sensual groping and heated making-out, though ultimately this led to a pouty refusal on her part. She had her reasons, all of them practical, and after tearing herself from his Porche with her thinning resolve wrapped tightly around her, she blew him a kiss and ran away.

And that was what left him standing beneath the arctic jets of crystalline water, the sharp and continuous deluge helping to assuage the arousal that clung to his loins, desperate for liberation.

He had considered calling Dusky. He knew she would have been more than happy to serve as the required vessel to escort his desire away. He resisted the urge, though, based on what Fiora had told him. She had said that one of the reasons their passions would remain in the front seat of his car and not through the front door of her apartment was because she didn't want to hurt his receptionist. Apparently the two of them had become good friends during their time arranging his offices in the Plaza de Troyes, and Dusky had told her of the feelings she had for Euriya. This wasn't news to him, it was his job to read the things people didn't want him to know, and he could admit that he had toyed with Miss Beaumont's emotions a little here and there over the years to see how dedicated and genuine they were. It seemed, in this case, that his meddling backfired and was blowing up in his face.

With a turn of the knobs he stopped the frosty flow and stepped out of the upright shower. There was no steam to obscure the six foot mirror that lined one of the walls, leaving a lucid reflection of Dr. Shilo's naked physique for his own personal obsessive observation.

Perfect. Every line. Every ridge. Not a trace of bodyfat. Not a hair to be found below the neck.

Perhaps he had to up the ante with Miss Shantalaine.

See how strong that resolve of hers truly was.

Euriya woke with a yawn, a closed fist sent toward the ceiling in fluid motion as he stretched away the ache and stiffness of slumber. The lush leather couch that normally served as his patient?s safe haven had been his bed the previous evening, though there was one thing missing that had been there the night before.

Fiora.

He had feigned sleep when she stirred, knowing that she was the type to sneak away to keep from bothering him or wake him up. To her, she was doing him a favor by letting him sleep. As he assumed, with a slinky step she quietly snuck out the door, blowing him a kiss along the way.

Sex had not been broached, though it probably could have been. He could tell by the way that her body careened against his that, while she seemed resistant to the idea, it probably would have only taken a hot kiss or a sensual stroke to arrange her compliance.

He sat up, another yawn emerging before he stood and started across the room for the shower. Sometimes he worked late and a shower in his office was a necessity to keep days running smoothly without having to take a trip home to clean up.

Tepid water deluged his naked body, and as he was saturated with its cleansing caress he closed his eyes and stepped face first into the spray. Lips parted, the lukewarm flow felt upon his lips and teeth.

The night before had been eventful.

He had a brief repartee with the notorious Riley O?Rourke. He wasn?t sure if she knew who he was but he was more than aware of the Lawyer-turned Government Official-turned soon to be bride. The leggy lycanthrope had procured his attention, especially with a rather tight hug of his current infatuation Fiora Shantalaine, though his enjoyment of this ended abruptly with a call from a patient.

The introduction of Gigi Granger had been interesting and fiery, he could tell that she was the type that didn?t take a lot of shit. That?s why he gave it to her, and her response suggested that she enjoyed the banter.

There was Audrey, who got his attention with a look from sheltered eyes. She seemed so vulnerable and damaged, and he just knew that he would enjoy prying into her chaotic mind to sort through the tragedy and madness that lingered there. They had an appointment setup for later in the day that promised to be interesting at the very least.

And then, of course, there was Miss Shantalaine. The night had been up and down, especially after Luke arrived. It seemed that Fiora had a fondness for the newly arrived private investigator that was more than able to steal her attention away from him. Euriya was sure that Luke?s rugged handsomeness and down-home charm had secured quite a number of female hearts -amongst other parts- throughout the years and wasn?t surprised that Fiora indulged in him. He was fun, and she loved fun.

They had a link, Luke and Fiora, a symbol of unity that could easily become an item of menace:

Bandito. The dog.

Bandito was the conduit between a warm welcome and an affectionate greeting. Euriya had seen it with his own eyes as Fiora raced to the dog and fell to her knees - with a flounce of her skirt that made witnessing this spectacle incredibly worth it - only to rise afterwards and embrace the animal?s owner. That dog was the bridge spanning the gap between friendly salutation and sexual tension. Without it, approaching either was difficult.

Euriya?s first thought, of course, was to kill the dog. Without Bandito?s assistance Luke?s physical relationship with Fiora wouldn?t be nearly as simple to initiate. The light the dog brought to her eyes wouldn?t be there to transfer to Luke upon her conclusion of rubbing all over Bandito.

That thought quickly subsided as he realized that if the dog were to die than that link would become a sympathetic connection, which would only accelerate their embracing as they sought to comfort away the pain of having lost the furry companion.

No, he didn?t need to remove the dog. He needed the dog to represent something a little less intimate. He needed the dog to become something vile and unpleasant.

Euriya stepped out of the shower and used the navy and white towel hung on the rack to dry the water from his intricately forged physique. With an obsessed inspection he watched in the mirror as flawlessly honed definition rippled into motion with his every move, from pectorals to shoulders, biceps to abdominals, there was not a single ridge of sinew out of place.

Cythrolazine.

It was an experimental anti-depressant that hit shelves a few years prior and was then quickly removed from prescription due to is severe side effects of violent nausea and unstable bowl seepage.

He closed his eyes and in his mind he could see the warning label along the side of the box, big block letters that were hard to miss.


KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN?



?AND PETS.

The rhythmic thump of sneakers on rubberized track mixed with the mechanized sound of the tread machine filled the room with a dull thrum of hypnotic buzzing.

It was Wednesday, and Wednesday was cardio.

There was nothing like a little ten mile run to start off the day. Euriya had always enjoyed running, from his days as a middle-school sprint runner clear up through his collegiate years where he earned numerous accolades in both soccer and track. It was just something that he had always done remarkably as well as a passion, of sorts.

The digitized readout told him everything: speed, incline, miles, heart rate, calories burned, everything. It always told him the truth, no matter how much it hurt. It never lied, it never lead him astray, always reliable.

That's all that he asked.

With a beep the motorized engine began to slow, downshifting from its highly repetitious alacrity. Legs matched the dwindling speed until finally he was walking. He always walked the last mile. He hated just jumping off the machine and ending it cold, it always made him feel like he was cheapening the experience; finishing before the end.

And that's exactly what he thought about the last time he had seen Fiora. He'd ended it cold, cheapened the experience.

Finished before the end.

As always, the shower that followed the exertion was soothing and rejuvenating. He used to sit in a tub after his runs, but over time he found that it became harder and harder to get active afterwards. It was as though his body indulged in the hot soak so entirely that resuming a more productive enthusiasm was damn near impossible, if not downright annoying. That's when he switched to showers instead.

The water drenched his flesh and cascaded down taut, defined sinew with a nearly passionate caress, slithering along the most intimate of regions, hinting at an embrace, before dripping off dangling ends. It was quick though, in and out.

He toweled off, watching flesh become dry as the water was blotted away, the tepid temperature of the shower leaving the mirror free from steam. Naked, he stood before it in narcissistic ritual, and observed the perfection.

Thoughts, though, could not enjoy the display as over and over his consideration drifted to Miss Shantalaine and the look she had given him when he pulled away from her. It was as startling to her as it was him, and he quickly withdrew from the environment to analyze his reaction. It's what he would have instructed a patient to do.

Time had passed and now he understood the complexity of the situation. He might not have been as prepared as he thought he was, but that didn't mean he had to subject Fiora to his aloof recoil. After all, she had always been a very good friend, and that was not how friends treated one another.

Sliding on boxer briefs and then his dark navy slacks, he collected his under and dress shirt, stepping out of the bathroom and into his office.

"Dusky?" He called through his partially open door. The waiting room outside was quiet and he didn't need to raise his voice.

The leggy elegance of Dusky Beaumont appeared in the doorway, her bright and youthful eyes appreciative of the shirtless masculinity just a handful of feet away. It was Euriya's treat for her, in a way. Their relationship, which was abnormal by most standards, was a prize in and of itself. "Did you arrange that appointment with Miss Shantalaine?"

"I did, Doctor, but I'm not sure I understand." Her words were humming past her lips as her mind raced to follow his question along with the rippling lines that laced his body. "She's right down the hall."

He pushed his head through the space in his white t-shirt and pulled it down over his naked torso, the dark hue of his flesh and the slight dampness peering through the thin material that was now plastered to shoulders, pectorals, and abdomen. "Miss Shantalaine is extremely busy, Dusk. I can't just go barging in there even though she is just a few doors away. I need to talk to her and we are both professionals. It's just the way business is done." He flashed her that torrid smile and shot her a wink for good measure, scooping up a piece of candy from the bowl on his desk. "Care for a piece?"

She was hesitant, her large doe-like eyes looking from his hand to his gaze and back.

Slowly she took a step forward.

Part Two

He made no move as she rounded his desk save for the flicker of his eyes. So near to him now he was unabashed in his survey of her sleek endowments. Roaming, his attention perused the lines and curves gifted unto her with a near covetous reaction, if for nothing more than that deepening need to find out the details of her endeavors. Backrooms, backseats, strange places and strange men. He had heard plenty, though wanted to hear the truth pour from her succulent lips. It would come in time. His smell, a musky cologne mixed with his natural scent, filled the area between them, caressing the senses with a pleasant touch. "Which is why I was so surprised." As she opened up the folder she would see that, in fact, the patient list would detail every member of the Cullin family after Horne, Audrey. Obviously an oversight, though one that she would never had made.

She'd been distracted as of late. An odd version of aberrant happiness having descended upon her in her hour of need. As luck would have it, Jack had been the answers to her on-her-knees-begging-please prayers. Their need for another was the one thing they shared and she had found herself spilling the secrets that Dr. Shilo even now thought about into the pillow talk she shared with another. She'd come to tell Jack little things, big things, and every kind of thing in between. He was her co-conspirator. The answer to her constant need to ask questions of herself. Why did she love this man beside her so much that she would willingly sacrifice herself to his desires? With Jack she could ask that question and not feel the shame that burnt the edges of her love. So immersed in their strange communion had she begun slacking at work? She couldn't imagine it so, for she still lived for Euriya's pleasure. To please him was to invoke an ecstasy that was only replaced by his actual physical presence. "I'm sorry." She whispered, immediately contrite, her long fingered ladylike hands that had engaged in the most sordid of activities despite their lilywhiteness, curling in an unconscious gesture of frustration. "I have no idea how that happened. I'll fix it immediately."

It was the instant sorrow, that remorse that swelled within her eyes that tugged at the corners of his lips. That sight there was the very reason he had tossed the original (and flawless) ledger out to be replaced with this one that he had forged the night before. Dusky's work was always immaculate, and seeking out such miscues would be few and far between. That was the reason he had to fabricate them. He let her statement hang in the air so the tension could rise, simmering to a near palpable linger before he canted his head. "Is there something bothering you, Miss Beaumont? Do you need to talk about anything?" The tone was mastered long ago, and in it she would hear a genuine concern. Sincerely, he cared.

Dusky was fidgeting and if she were aware of it she might've been flustered more, but as it stood her fingers twisted together in a desire to rip that offending ledger from his desk. How could she have let this happen? He was even now disappointed in herself, questioning her competency - she was the best damnit, she was assuredly the best thing that had ever happened to him and he was already unaware of it but what would happen if he started to second guess her position in his office? She belonged at his side, or beneath him, or wrapped about him. She belonged with him. The threat of losing this connection was nearly unbearable and as the tension mounted she felt the anxiety tighten her throat, prickle at her skin, and wind her taut. His concern nearly triggered a swoon, a southern girl born and raised, she weaved slightly upon her feet and resisted the urge to drape a wrist across her forehead for it would not be an affectation but an honest response engendered by the way she was raised. Instead she lowered her lush lashes to conceal her pretty blue eyes and looked appropriately dejected, "Dr. Shilo I'm sincerely sorry my distractions are interfering with your work today. I'll make it up to you." A hint of tears in her voice.

Again the presence of silence let the apprehension thicken, eyes of dark blue exploring the depths of her gaze as it began to moisten. He noted the sway, the loss of balance a blatant indication as to what this 'accident' had done to her, and he could only imagine the thoughts racing through her head as she scorned herself while retracing the steps of the earlier hours, dumbfounded as to how it could have happened. He reached out and placed those familiar fingers again on the folder, flicking it closed with a simple wrist motion. "It's alright, Dusky. Let's just make sure that it doesn't happen again. I'll expect a corrected copy by the end of the day." He leaned forward in his seat and took from the candy bowl upon his desk a piece. Eyes ascended upward with a softer look as though he would offer her a token, as he normally did, though with a glance to the folder he sat back and said nothing, unwrapping the treat. He placed the morsel upon the tip of his tongue and then consumed it between his lips. "Now, as for the other issue..." He paused, using the candy as a great excuse to severe his dialect.

She swallowed hard, suddenly assaulted with a dry mouth. Her eyes drawn to his motions and a near whimper escaping at the implied message of them; yet, beyond that was her desire for him burning at her. His fingers brushing across the folder's surface wrought a nearly painful response from her, so sticky sharp was her desire and as he unwrapped that treat her breath hitched in her throat and she found she could not tear her eyes from his fingers. But it was the end result of that candy that finally drew the first breathy sound from her lips unable to contain it any longer. She focused on his mouth and lost track of his words only underscoring her continued lack of professionalism as she realized she had no idea what he had just said, desperately she tried to focus and found herself at a loss, so she offered the noncommittal sound used in situations such as these, "hmm?" unaware of how husky the sound emerged. Her mouth parched, her throat dry, as she imagined the taste of the candy exploding upon her tongue.

He could feel the sudden heat wafting from her. It wasn't traditional heat, but an increased temperature that resonated from beneath the flesh. He could see the thrum of her body as she shifted her legs and her hips, knowing that the motions of his lips and tongue, and even the clacking of the candy against his teeth was strumming the strings of her desire. Contrived, it seemed that such devices were a constant source of pleasure when it came to his tattered sonnet. He stood, drawing up and out of his chair with a fluid lift that brought his body so near to hers that masculine lines bathed in Gucci and Nigel Cabourn almost grazed her softly clad body...were those his fingertips that stroked the back of her nylon soaked calf? It was too hard to tell in that flurry of languid movement. His breath, smelling like delicious caramel thanks to the candy, breezed across her lips. "Miss Beaumont, I need you to focus. This is very...." He tilted his head at an angle that hinted a kiss would follow. "...very...." A step closer, a slight lean, distance fading. "...important." His lips were almost upon her, the touch just a whisper away, before he leaned back and slid the folder he had plucked from the top of his desk into her hand. "Are you focused?"

Part Four

"Oh, I will." He promised as he turned to the rack behind him and gathered his blazer. He slid his arms inside and then took the Check Pea coat, its length falling just below his knees. Gloves were pulled from the left pocket and his drivers cap form the other. "I just heard of this place down the way. Magical Delights. I hear they have a fantastic lunch menu." He stepped into her, a sudden lean bringing his lips forward and against her cheek. The touch was like velvet and the scent was male ,musk and candy, as it paused upon her softness. His hand touched the small of her back though lasted only a moment and as the embrace faded it drifted downward in a gentle caress of her pert backside. He pulled back and offered her an assuring smile. "Thank you." He said. "I thought you might refuse."

She almost laughed.

It was ludicrous the idea that she would refuse him anything, but desperation had a way of making a man discard you and instead she turned that self-mocking laugh into a sweet sugary confection of delight, teasing him with its southern charm, her smile pleasant, "Well I might have to cancel plans but it will definitely be worth it." And she quite suddenly realized she did indeed need to cancel plans with a startled lift of her lashes and widening of her eyes. But the simple sight of Euriya drawing on his coat and preparing himself was enough to distract her from such thoughts and as he leaned in to kiss her cheek she forgot completely about Jack and anything else but the slick edge of her need for this man before her. "Let me get my things." She murmured and moved away from the possessive touch of his hand deliberately. Almost fleeing, the feminine soul encouraging him to want what was escaping.

Euriya watched her go, refusing to liberate the predatory insurgence that sought to claim him. It was not as though their connection was one way, evident by the physical reaction that dwelled inside his clothing. She was certainly an enticing counterpart that he was eager to divulge in, though the little games between them - if that's what one could call it - were entertaining to organize and execute. The swing of her hips and the click of her heels, it was a true masterpiece. He headed out of the office and into the reception area where he started to lock up, and once she was ready he lead her out, securing the door, and starting for the elevator. "Have you seen Miss Shantalaine this morning?" He casually asked, glancing between the glowing green arrow above the elevator doors and her sinfully enlightened eyes.

She'd paused in gathering her coat and gloves to make a quick phone call, it was hushed and personal, her tones low and intimate as she left a quick message for Jack, canceling her plans for this weekend. She promised to tell him about her evening and clicked off quickly, her attention fully devoted to Euriya as she moved around the desk to join him at the elevator. Her admiring gaze upon the clean cut lines of his gentlemanly attire - the man certainly knew how to dress and entice a woman, and she was always willing to fall under the spell of his careful presentation. The hat was probably her favorite part of today's ensemble as it gave him an old school rakish air that made her want to meet him on a golf course and anoint it with their passions.

Startled out of her indulgent thoughts by his question she felt a surge of guilt at the mention of the realtor that was quickly surpassed by the realization that her lie had come true: he had asked her to the Gala. Her grin was breathtakingly vibrant and giddy as she responded, "Not this morning no. We talked last night on her way home from work."

I love you...I love you, Euriya...

He could have sworn that's what he heard as the throes of passion swept through them both in its devastating wake. Even as Dusky was trying her hardest to keep those words sealed behind her lips it seemed as though rapture was able to pry them free, and as primal culmination was reached she whispered them in a raspy tone hoarse from hours of screaming.

Euriya stepped from the shower and took his decorative towel, the one that had the letters E.S. embroidered at the corner, and began drying himself. The mirror was coated in a sheen of mist that obscured the view, robbing him of the sensual sight of his finely crafted physique. It didn't bother him, though, not with so much on his mind.

He stepped from the bathroom and found the form of his date sprawled lifelessly across his bed, the soft silver of the moonlight pouring in from the three eastern windows tingeing the naked bow of her back and curve of her buttocks in its mystic kiss. She was certainly a vigorous lover, as was told by the fitted sheets completely pulled off the mattress -some still knotted as they had been used as binds - and the sweat that soaked them.

He stopped at the nightstand just beside his bed and checked his phone. Frank Harker had called him a few hours back in the midst of a hallucinogenic breakdown and needed his Doctor to talk him through it. It passed, as did the hours of the night, and soon he found himself needing to leave. Fiora was there, by herself. They talked and flirted and she seemed keen on his interest, even if she questioned the reasons behind it and the ramifications their dating might have on others, namely Dusky. At the time he didn't want to think about, didn't want to talk about, and didn't want to make Fiora uncomfortable. That's why he left without so much as kissing her good night.

On the ride to Luks he called Dusky to make sure she had made it home safely and he could hear the other man in the background. It was Knmblnkwik. Had to be. Had Jack not been there Euriya would have wished her a goodnight, talked dirty to her until she came, and then went home to sleep. But Jack was there, and he needed to be made aware of who exactly was in charge of the situation. Euriya instructed Dusky to drop what she was doing, wear only heels and the Marc Jacobs Winter Coat he bought her in late October, and come to his Condo immediately.
She had made it there before him.

Once in the kitchen, once on the balcony, again in the kitchen and then a drawn-out two hour tryst in the bed later and here they were; one exhausted, battered and recovering, and one contemplating exactly why he needed that.

She drew him from her thoughts as she shifted her hips, that simple movement enough to emit a painful sigh from her sleeping lips. She tensed her thighs and hips, pushing her backside into the air, offering it to whoever infiltrated her dreams.

He was awake, and soon she would be too.

He swung around behind her, taking her by the hips, and buried his face between her legs.


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


The following morning Euriya stood at his office window, looking down at the canary yellow Mustang waiting in front of the Plaza, its engine still running. This was easy to see thanks to the cold weather, which made the carbon emissions out of the tailpipe akin to a dragon breathing.

"Euriya?" Dusky asked from the doorway before quickly correcting herself. "I mean, Doctor Shilo, I'm taking my lunch unless you need something."

Euriya arranged the glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose and glanced at her, smile firmly in place as he shook his head. "I'm fine, Dusk. Enjoy your lunch."

She melted into the sight of the smile but swiftly recovered with one of her own, she turned and started away with the click of heels and a stride more rigid than normal. She was stiff and tender. His doing.
He turned back and watched out the window once again, staring down at this bisque chariot while sipping his coffee.

His suspicions were confirmed as Dusky departed from the glamorous double doors of the Plaza de Troyes and the driver of the car emerged, his fashionable long coat hiding the details of his clothing, though Euriya could tell by the car that they were undoubtedly lavish. They shared a quick hug, something discreet that hinted at embraces far more lingering in private, and then he moved around and got the door for her as all gentleman should.

That was when he came into view and revealed his features. His nose. His mouth. Even his haircut.

It all resembled Dr. Shilo.

Euriya should have been flattered, as he was a firm believer that imitation was the greatest form of flattery, and yet he wasn't.

He was irritated.

No, he was enraged.

...and he was going to kill this man.

?I?m not sure I understand.? The Sergeant said as he peered through the small square of glass in the door. ?What happened to him??

Euriya examined the chart for a moment and then folded it closed, pushing his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose with his index finger. ?Psychosis. There are plenty of traumatic events that occur in the life of a Watchman, Sergeant. You know that better than anyone. Some people are just naturally better equipped to handle those things. It seems that this particular individual is not one of them.?

The Sergeant was a tall and burly man whose physical prowess was intimidating regardless of his age, which pushed well into his sixties. With hard eyes marred by scars and wrinkles he turned to face Euriya, a bushy brow, the color of snow, arched high with confusion. ?But he?s one of the brightest kids I have.?

?Unfortunately mental distress has very little to do with actual intelligence. In fact, it could be argued that some of the most brilliant minds of our lifetime were afflicted with a touch of derangement. In this case, though, your watchman?s mental capacity of comprehension and reaction has been compromised to the point of impotency.?

?Impotency?? The sergeant barked, glancing downward briefly. ?You mean he can?t use his??

?I mean exactly what I said, Sergeant. He?s brain-dead.?

The Sergeant sighed and turned back to the small window. ?A god damn vegetable.? He murmured.

?I?m sorry about your loss. Let me know if there is anything else I can do.? Euriya didn?t wait for the Sergeant to respond, turning and starting away with a pause only to deposit the watchman?s chart into the bin near the door.

The watchman would never be able to recover from the trauma Euriya put him through, and knowing that the man would spend the rest of his life having his bodily functions regulated through a machine gave the Doctor a sense of fulfillment. He?d spent hours administering a series of techniques that were considered ancient and experimental, rendering the Watchman obtuse and inane in the end.

Before all of this, though, he made the Watchman walk through the affair he had with Dusky Beaumont. In great detail he recalled their salacious meetings and torrid encounters, and in return Euriya taped every word spoken. He listened to the recording for four nights in a row and would do so again this night. He wanted to know every aspect of their relationship. Of how it started, of what it was, and of how it ended.

This Southern Belle wasn?t as pure as the driven snow. In fact, she was far from it. Euriya had seen sides of this lurking persona before, though never had he guessed she would share it with others. He thought he?d be upset about the fact, but actually he was intrigued. He wanted to know the lengths that she would go to in order to appease this inner craving.

And, it appeared, so did she.

The night was intense, which was strange due to the random comedic anomalies that came out of nowhere. Euriya considered himself extensively creative when it came to sexual experimentation, but not even he had considered using cherry lime sherbet in the ways Fiora wanted to.

Someone had introduced her to a world of very taboo culinary procedure and she wasn?t afraid to recommend them as though they were everyday occurrences.

He was game; maintaining an avid belief in the validation of new dynamics pertaining to erotic inclination.

Soon the sun was up, the gallon container was empty, and naked flesh was sticky with the residue of ice-cream and passion. Together they only got about an hour?s worth of sleep and that was a result of passing out due to sheer exhaustion. The following morning?s shower was only seven minutes long and still it dissolved into him fucking her up against the door.

Afterwards he departed and left her to wash away the sweet residue of their union, dressing in the same clothes he had arrived in and slipping out the back. He wouldn?t have minded waiting until she got out to actually say goodbye, but their understanding was clear. It wasn?t about consideration. Not yet. It was about physical intimacy and nothing more. He was counting on her to elevate the relationship to something more, and needed to be patient until such a time came about.

The Plaza was near empty when he arrived and quickly he made his way to his office so that he could take his second shower of the morning. He kept nearly an entire wardrobe there for such occasions and wasn?t worried about a change of clothing. It didn?t take long, and soon enough he was bedecked in the tailored attire that was his trademark.

He stepped into the small waiting area just outside his office and found an unanticipated individual awaiting his attention. She was tall, possessing an elegant beauty that seemed old-fashioned and real. There was no supermodel appeal or statuesque splendor. Just beauty. Authentic beauty. Flaxen hair, willowy limbs, and supple curves.

?Mrs. Raver?? He knew that his voice reflected the surprise that he sincerely felt. ?What are you doing here??

?I know I?m early, Dr. Shilo but I hope that is okay. It?s only an hour, but if you?d like me to come back I will be more than happy to.?

He waved off the notion. ?Not at all.? He turned away and headed back to his door though stopped just inside, a look back anticipating her trail.

She read the look quickly and rose from her seat, a lengthy stride crossing the distance easily. She wore a pinstripe business suit complimenting Euriya?s sense of style, complete with sheer black hose that accentuated her taut legs. It was the shoes that threw off the appearance of uniformity; beige and white tiger stripes. It seemed to the Doctor that she wasn?t all business, even when she wanted to be.

?Have a seat.? He said as he rounded his desk, a cursory look given to the Blackberry sitting upon it. ?I hope the ride over was pleasant.?

?It was.? She took residency in the seat across from him, the fluid camber of her body acclimated by the crossing of her legs. ?The Plaza is so beautiful. I had heard rumors about it and yet was not prepared for how?.exquisite?it truly is.?

?It is a masterwork of architecture, certainly.? Euriya agreed, falling into the lush leather high-backed chair on the opposing side of his desk. ?A true marvel. Let?s get down to business, though. Are you sure you are prepared to take on the responsibilities that this position requires? Not to overdramatize it, but the job of my personal assistant is both crucial and taxing. Not for the faint of heart.?

?Oh Dr. Shilo, I promise that I can be all that and more. I am experienced in handling the books and business of major corporations and assisted my father?s business for many years. I am well versed in a number of languages and know my way around an appointment book and a computer.? She smiled triumphantly.

Euriya leaned back, letting the subtle squeak of his seat fill the room. Fingers steepled, and through the clear lenses of high-perched glasses he quietly watched her.

That gaze, warm and welcoming, was still something to squirm at considering she was there for a job interview. The pleased curl of crimson-stained lips lessened slightly, fading into a straight line.

?Tell me about your home life.? Finally the silence was broken. ?What does your husband think about you working??

?My husband?? The way she asked revealed a startling reaction, not expecting the Doctor to inquiry about her spouse. ?You mean Jack??

?Yes.? Euriya replied, his soothing tone faintly dipping toward something a bit diabolical. ?Tell me about?Jack.?

There was a familiar and subtle creak as Euriya shifted his weight, his office chair responding with that telltale sound as it had for the previous two years. There weren?t many things that he kept around for that long ? especially when it came to accessories such ? but the chair was comfortable and signified his very first triumph within Rhy?din. Sure it was a small one, but every good Doctor had a reliable chair to sink into when tough decisions were needed to be made, and he had just that.

?Doctor Shilo?? Sheila Raver said as she leaned forward, positioned directly across his desk in one of the twin client chairs. ?Is that a towel??

A brow arch ushered in the turn of his head, landing dark eyes upon the clump of terrycloth almost completely shoved beneath a decorative shelf. It was black and white, matching the color combination of the bathroom from where it originated. It was Fiora?s towel from earlier that morning.

?It is.? He said with a nod, turning back to face her as though nothing was out of sort.

She drummed her pen across the chart she had been examining as she sat back, pulling her eyes from the damp toiletry to view the handsome visage of her employer. ?Kind of random, don?t you think??

?Not at all.? He replied, again summoning another creak as he reclined, watching her curiously. ?Do you??

?Well, yea.? There was a sense of regret that overtook her features then, perhaps thinking that she spoke too candidly. ?Of course, who am I to try and say what should or shouldn?t be done??

?Well, you are my assistant. That does fall within the parameters of your duties.?

She gasped.

Her wide eyes, engorged by a sudden sense of seriousness, were met with a rather charming smile from Doctor Shilo, who followed it with a small laugh. ?Ms. Raver, relax. While I appreciated your professionalism, you?re taking the position a bit too seriously. I want you efficient, but I don?t want a robot.?

Shock was replaced by discomfiture, which dropped her eyes to the scribbles upon the chart. She wasn?t reading, but tracing the letters to distract her from the heated cheeks birthed by embarrassment. ?Mrs. Raver.?

?What?s that??

?You called me Ms. Raver. It?s Mrs.? She swallowed. ?Mrs. Raver.?

?Of course, Mrs. Raver. My apologies.?

She nodded, a gesture meant to re-solidify their standings ? more for her sake than his.

?Very good. Let?s start with the patient review. By the end of the day I would like to?? He paused, noting that she was once again staring at the towel. ?Mrs. Raver, is everything alright??

?It?s just?I can?t stop looking at it.? And she couldn?t, only glancing at him before once again focusing upon the clump. ?Your office is so pristine and everything is so organized and in place. It?s ruining the entire?atmosphere.? She made circles with her hands to accentuate her point.

?If it is bothering you that much then, by all means, do something about it.?

?Wha?what??

?You heard me. The bathroom is over there. If it is that big of a distraction then throw it in the hamper and let?s get back to work.?

She seemed to be considering the option but then sat back in her seat. ?No, I?m fine.?

?Are you??

?No.? She finally surrendered to whatever urge was consuming her mind and slipped from the chair to make for the towel, her heels clicking to life as she exited the central rug to cross the marble floor.

As she stood and strode away his focus was no longer on the towel, instead paying special attention to the attire that adorned her slender legs; stockings sewn of black silk. They weren?t just any set of hosiery, though; they were Carnation 17 of Gerbe?s collection and ran nearly eighty dollars a pair. Their back seams were perfectly centered on her leg, adding an element of danger and allure to her already appealing limbs. They hadn?t been intended for her; in fact they had been a gift for Dusky, but seeing as how she had yet to return from her mystery vacation spot he thought that it was only fitting for her replacement to be garlanded in the same fashion that he normally reserved for her.

But it was more than that. Dusky?s fascination had led to a meticulous study of Euriya?s wants and desires, and he was aware that she knew rather intimately his affinity for Gerbe?s stockings. When she returned and found that the woman who filled her role, the wife of the man she?d been running to in lieu of Doctor Shilo?s bed, festooned in the d?cor that epitomized his fixation , she would most certainly be struck by a combination of betrayal and abandonment.

And knowing Dusky, the ensuing madness and incessant desire to have his favor returned might just lead to a rather unique reaction.

?There.? She said as she emerged from his bathroom, deciding to hang the towel rather than toss it in the hamper. ?All better.?

?A good job.? He said sincerely as he scooped up the crystalline bowl full of candies from his desk. ?Let?s get you a reward.?

?So you see, as the nickel spins upon its side, the shifting momentum of its circulation is what keeps it upright.? Euriya glanced up from the revolving coin, peering over the rim of his glasses to where Sheila Raver stood. ?This simple science can be applied to life as well.?

?How so?? She asked with a bemused smile, the welcoming comfort of the Doctor?s soothing tone drawing her into a realm of relaxation that had her leaning against his desk with the curve of one shapely hip.

?Opposing circumstances have a tendency of allowing us to keep a focused viewpoint. As long as we can moderate the reaction, or in the case of the nickel, keep a balanced weight of inertia, then tumbling over doesn?t occur.?

Her smiled never faded as her eyes shifted between the token and the doctor, fascinated by both. ?And if we can?t moderate this??

She was startled by his reaction, jumping with surprise as his hand came down on the nickel and slapped the desk. The tension drew an instinctive laugh that was met by his charming smile.

?We all fall down.?

?I suppose so.?

With two fingers he slid the nickel off the table, cresting the edge to drop it into the waiting palm of his other hand. ?Were you able to get ahold of Mrs. De Luca about those tickets for Wicked??

?Still working on it. As it turns out she?s a very busy woman.?

?Busy, but attentive. I?m sure when she gets the message she?ll act right away.? The hand fell into his pocket to dismiss the coin and retrieve his phone. ?And Ms. Shen? Did you send those papers up to her floor??

?I did.? She pushed off of his desk, taking note of the professional manner he resumed. She straightened, one hand subconsciously smoothing the length of her skirt, inadvertently melding it against her thighs. ?Neither she or Mr. Bennett were available so I left them in their mailbox in a secure envelope.?

?Excellent.?

?You know, Dr. Shilo, I am a more than capable personal assistant.? She said matter-of-factly. ?And while I?m sure your phone is a reliable source as well, I can pretty much guarantee that I can do everything it can. Plus get your coffee.?

Euriya?s glance was curious at first, though her boast brought out a small chuckle in the end. He leaned back in his seat, letting the device drop to his lap. ?Does it offend you that I insist on such outside assistance as well as the services you provide??

While his tone was clinical it was obvious that he teased her, to which she grinned in response. ?It does.?

?A pity.?

Her shocked lament was nearly comical. ?Well then, I guess your little phone can get you your cappuccino tomorrow morning.?

Sheila Raver was proving to be quite the conundrum. It was hard to tell where her comfort level was. Sometimes their little war of wit would extend into bantering conversation, and other times he sensed that, because she was unaware of the limits of such teasing, she secluded herself inside a private shell. He needed to see that reservation dwindle as quickly as possible, and with a glance to her left hand knew exactly how to do so.

With a smooth extension he lifted from his chair. The Armani suit he wore was tailored perfection in blue and grey; the buttoned vest framing a trim torso that tapered from shoulders to waist along with fitted slacks that revealed firm masculine hips and legs. He looked up just in time to catch her appraisal, and it was because of that look that he took a step toward her, closing distance almost intimately.

She drew in a sharp breath at his sudden nearness, her eyes instantly inclining from their survey of his sleek form in search of his gaze. Lips parted to speak, to breathe, and yet nothing came out.

?Mr. Chenzira?s appointment is next.? He said, that velvet tone returned.

She blinked, drawn from her private thoughts to stare at the Doctor. ?Wha?what??

?Mr. Chenzira. His appointment is next. I know that you are still a bit new to this so I?ll explain, because Mr. Chenzira is a very special client.? He stepped by her, shoulders just barely brushing in a whisper of contact. ?Come with me.?

He led her out the door of his office and down the hall to a room clearly marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. A flash of his badge across the security panel changed the light from red to green, releasing the mag-locks and allowing the door to be opened.

Inside was a small room decorated with hospital rated sinks and shelves, all of which were stainless steel. Gurneys, diagnostic machines, and supplies of all kinds were categorized along the wall, labeled and placed in a convenient arrangement.

?Mr. Chenzira is a mummy.? Euriya explained as he moved to one of the large sinks and turned on the faucet to begin filling it. ?Because of this, he constantly emits an aura of pestilence that is highly contagious if one does not take the proper preventative steps.? When the sink was a little more than halfway full he turned the faucet off and reached to the shelf above. From it he pulled a small canister wrapped in a foreign label and opened it, pouring some of its powder in.

?What is that?? Sheila asked, wrinkling her nose as the pungent aroma assailed her.

?It is a sterilant.? Only a few ounces were needed and then the canister was closed, replaced on the shelf. He unfastened his cuffs and rolled his sleeves to mid-forearm and then began to remove his watch. ?We have to make sure than any bacteria we may be carrying is removed. Our clothing will protect us from air born vapors but exposed skin will be susceptible and must be sterilized.?

Assiduously she nodded; her focus completely on his words. She took a step forward to sample the rinse but was quickly deflected by Euriya?s hand upon her wrist.

?Wait.?

Startled, she turned to him in the wake of another gasp. His fingers were warm and soft, yet the grip he had on her slim wrist was so hard.

?The sterilant is terminally corrosive to inorganic items.? He looked down at the hand he held so sturdily. ?Your wedding ring.?

Slowly she drew her hand away, staring down at the impressive jewel that decorated her third finger. Obviously there was hesitation there, yet in the end she slid it from her finger and looked at the Doctor. ?Will you hold it for me??
He shook his head as he laid his watch on the side of the sink. ?I have to rinse as well. Go ahead and leave it here and we will get them after we?re done.?

Her nod was slow, her eyes unwilling to let the ring go long after her fingers had. With her attention diverted he had to rein her back in. ?Dip both hands and wash them thoroughly with the solution, making sure to get between fingers and thumb. We don?t want any lingering aggressive pathogens.? As he described he demonstrated, meticulously scrubbing digits and palm. Once complete, he reached across the sink to where a paper towel dispenser was housed. With his elbow he pushed the level a half dozen times, producing several towels. ?And then dry carefully. The towels are coated in the same sterilant as the solution so there is no chance of cross-contamination.?

She stepped forward and followed his instructions to the letter, keeping her concern partitioned between cleaning her hands and watching her ring. Taking note of this, Euriya stepped forward as she lifted her hands from the sink, a sluice of water pouring from her delicate fingers. She reached for the towel dispenser, the extension of her elbow putting her in a rather awkward position, exposing her to the encircling arms of Euriya as he reached around her. ?Now to drain.? He said with lips sweetly encroaching upon her ear.

The touch of his strong arms along her hips combined with the gentle current of his exhale sent a violent quiver down her spin, the sudden tensing of muscle jolting her clumsily.

Plunk.

It took a moment to register what the sound was, and when Sheila looked down she saw that the spot where the ring and the watch had been was now vacant. The last few inches of solution was rotating downward into oblivion, and as the sink emptied she could make out the form of his time piece swirling about, along with the metallic spiral of something smaller circling the drain.

It was about the size of a ring.

?No!? She frantically shouted as both hands plunged into the sink, scrapping fingernails along the bottom with a desperate need that ultimately resulted in an empty grasp.

With mouth and eyes equally wide she turned to Euriya, who responded with an inquiring look.

?Oh my god.? She breathed. ?My ring went down the drain.?

?Unfortunate.? He observed before reaching down and lifting his watch from the parched sink with pinching fingers. Where the sterilant soaked it, the watch was being slowly eaten away as though it had been dipped in acid.

The sorrowful width of Sheila?s eyes did not lessen with the sight of the watch, shifting back to stare hopelessly at the drain. ?Wha?what can we?I have to have it.?

?I?ll call a plumber, Mrs. Raver, but I don?t want to get your hopes up. The solution is?potent.? He accentuated the last word by stepping onto the lever of the trashcan and dropping his watch into it.

?I need to lie down.?

?You may use my office. Mr. Chenzira won?t be arriving for another forty minutes.?

Euriya watched her leave, her normally elegant stride resembling something a bit more dejected. In that single moment her life had come crashing down all around her. It was a pity to see, though Euriya knew that he would be able to help her as he dropped his hand into his pocket.

A wedding ring now where a nickel once was.

Cohesive neural parallelism.

It is the process of interconnected relations the brain creates from activities triggered by memories of initial origin. When someone suggests a place to eat, or a movie to watch, the brain relates that person to the restaurant or theater for years after and, depending on the emotional bind the two share, this assessment can last an entire lifetime.

Cohesive neural parallelism.

It's what Euriya was counting on. He would never be so openly bold as to recommend an endeavor as intimate as fellatio if not for an ulterior motive. Sure, Jack would receive an exorbitant amount of pleasure as a result, but the overall outcome far outweighed the pleasure of one man.

Or in this case, the other man.

No, Euriya was banking on cohesive neural parallelism relating the act of fellatio to the image of him, and with the amount of emotional stress Sheila was under, if she successfully coaxed her husband into permitting her attempt, Euriya was willing to wager a month's salary that she visualized his face instead of her husband's at least half a dozen times from start to finish.

He'd be able to tell pretty quickly as soon as she arrived.

He stood in the Plaza?s atrium, a marvelous courtyard surrounded by stone pillars just steps from the main entrance, and watched as the variety of vehicles passed by in the busy morning hours. Most passersby looked out their window and gawked at the impressive structure, though very few stopped due to the intimidation such a fine work of architecture mustered. He and the building had much in common.

The rumble of the canary-colored mustang was as much felt as it was heard, pulling close to the curb and coming to a stop. For a moment there was nothing, just the purr of the engine in idle wait, but eventually the door opened and poured forth the impressive length of nylon-bathed legs. Carnation 17, Euriya could spot them a mile away. Sheila's skirt drew high on her leg, offering a succulent amount of thigh that most would consider indecent as she climbed from the car, quickly veiling that exposed length as she stood to her full height and smoothed down the hem.

A glimpse inside the car revealed flawless black leather and a man in the driver?s seat that hadn?t been seen thanks to the limousine tint of the windows. He was young and fit, with dark eyes and high cheek bones, much like Euriya.

That was, after all, why Dusky chose him.

Euriya had seen the car before when Jack had come to get the southern belle, though the windows were new. They were to block out anyone trying to steal a peek, to keep at bay those wandering eyes who might catch a glimpse at the lurid affair going on inside.

Sheila turned and bent at the waist, one hand on the roof and the other on the open door, inadvertently offering a fine showing of her taut bottom sheathed within the tight hold of her attire as she looked inside the car. Their conversation was lost due to the distance, but the showing was fully indulged in. Euriya sipped his cappuccino, continuing his observation over the rim of his cup.

Finally the door closed and Sheila made her way along the decorative stone path that led from the street to the door, which just so happened to take her to the waiting doctor. She met his eyes, momentarily startled by his presence, and instinctively adorned a smile that must have been practiced to perfection throughout the years of her youth.

?Someone seems a bit brighter today.? He observed.

She paused, absorbing his words, and then guiltily looked down and to the right, unable to contain the softening of her smile or the subtle stain to her cheeks. It wasn?t embarrassment as much as it looked to be culpability ? admitting to something without saying a word.

?Is it safe to assume that you and your husband have worked out a few of things that were hindering your marriage?? He asked as he pulled the door open and held it for her. It was rare for him to take on the role of escort and it showed in Sheila's surprised eyes, a moment needed to realize what he was doing before stepping into the Plaza.

?Things are?better.? She said quietly, keeping her eyes averted as she headed for the elevator.

?That?s good to know.? He moved up beside her and joined her in waiting for the doors to open, easily able to feel the anxiety wafting all around her. She was extensively focused on the illuminant ring that circled the arrow pointing up. She didn?t want to admit what had transpired with her husband, even though Euriya didn?t need her to voice it to understand what had occurred.

As the door chimed he leaned toward her and quietly said. ?You?re welcome.? He paused after only a step, the placard on the wall garnering his attention. ?What is the Valenti Agency??

The click of her heels was sharp and swift, moving past him to fill the elevator car with her slender frame. She was staring once again at light-bearing buttons, though this variety was much more intricate than a simple arrow. ?She?s new to the office, just moved in last week. I believe it?s an image consultation agency.?

?Image consultation.? He mimicked before entering in beside her. ?I?ll have to take a trip up there to look around.?

?Your image is hardly in need of consultation, Doctor.?

Ah, the inadvertent appraisal and subconscious compliment. With that he was even more certain that her thoughts had drifted to him during the previous night?s excursion. He kept his eyes inclined, watching as the numbers began to tick away with their rise to the third floor.

When the doors opened he departed, leaving her one step behind as he made his way to his office. With a glance down the hall he noted that Fiora hadn't made it in yet, which wasn?t surprising considering their run in with the tentacle monster on the way home from Wicked. As he swiped his badge across the scanner and heard the locks disengage, he shouldered the door open and glanced back to Sheila. ?I need a bouquet of flowers and some chocolates sent to Mataya De Luca, I?ll write the card.?

She nodded, their paths splintered as she headed for her desk and he his personal office.

Euriya stepped inside and let the door close behind him, making his way to his desk as he slid his Blackberry from his pocket. He checked over his personal schedule and finished the cappuccino, tossing the empty cup into the trash.

?Doctor.? Sheila?s voice came over the intercom, its crystal clarity edged with only a trace of digital echo. ?Miss Shen is your first appointment this morning.?

Euriya collapsed into his lavish leather chair and opened the top right drawer of his desk. From it he removed a ring box and flipped it open. ?Excellent. I?ll get her chart ready.?

The engagement ring was wedged inside, awaiting its return to Sheila Raver?s finger.

It was time.

"Miss Raver." He said, voice quiet though decisive.

"I haven't been with another man..." She whispered against his throat as the seductive scrape of manicured fingernails was felt against the nape of his neck. "...not recently."

"Miss Raver."He said again, this time a bit more sternly. It seemed that the delicate balance she was teetering upon was gaining sway in one direction. "I think that we should-"

He was interrupted.

He was interrupted by her mouth as it found his, pouring forth succulent passion as she kissed him with parted lips, offering up her silken tongue for his conquest.

For just a moment he returned her affection, head tilting to gain a more advantageous angle. Holding her tightly against him he returned the contribution, entwining delicate tongues softly in a slick dance as lips caressed and moved. There was a transitory lapse in his plan as he diverted the suddenly seething urge to lift her up, spread her legs, and take her right there in his office. By the feel of her pliant lean against him he was certain that she would offer next to no resistance - that certainty was confirmed as she brought her hands around to his stomach and began to grasp at the front of his shirt.

His fingers tricked down her spine, inspiring moans into the kiss. He took a step into her, forcing her to go with him, backing her up and pinning her against the edge of his desk. Descending hands bled along her curvaceous sides until grasping at the hem of her skirt, which was drawn upward, exposing thigh and the lacy garters that held those delicious Carnation 17?s in place. Instinctively she parted her supple legs around his, squeezing his knee with her own in hungry desperation as the gilded buttons of a fine Gucci shirt were plucked open. He felt her quiver; the heat emitting from the junction of her splayed limbs heralding a pulsating arousal that required release in only one way. She was his if he wanted her.

He stepped back, prying himself from her sensuous hold.

Gasping, cheeks flush with a wanton famine, she grasped at the tails of his shirt in hopes of finding a leash to keep him close. It was futile, though, leaving her with nothing.

He retreated but only a step and then paused to look at her.
Energized with arousal, her breasts pressed against the smooth surface of her blouse as they lifted and fell with eager breath. Hovering upon the edge of his desk, her scrunched skirt and parted thighs offered a tempting view of the lacy veil that covered her most sacred treasure. The look in her hazel eyes suggested surrender ? eager surrender ? though his sudden withdrawal marred that yielding expression with a touch of frustration. ?Wha?what are you doing??

He brought his fist to his mouth and coughed into it, clearing his throat before adjusting the glasses that rode his slender nose. ?This isn?t going to work, Mrs. Raver.?

?What?s not going to work??

With the face of his thumb he wiped at the excess moisture gathered along the corner of his mouth. He rubbed it between his fingers until they were dry and then started to astutely re-button his shirt, sheathing the sculpted torso exposed by its undoing. ?Our engagement, if we do not curb it. You see, while I am an educated man I am still just that, a man, and with your persistent coaxing we will undoubtedly thrust ourselves into a relationship far beyond professional.? He glanced around his office before adding. ?In multiple locations.? Back to her came his gaze.

With pleading eyes she watched as the treasure of his chiseled physique was once more covered by his Gucci button-down; its disappearance and his logical denouncement of their situation bringing her thighs together and wheedling her from her seat upon the desk. She stood and brushed down the length of her skirt, hoping that the maquillage she applied earlier that morning was hiding the color of embarrassment she knew was burning at her cheeks. Still, the taste of him lingered upon her lips and the smell of that delicious cologne remained all around. ?Doctor?? She whispered.

?I?m sorry.? He said firmly, startling her as his hands dropped to the buckle of his belt. It was expertly unfastened, followed by the button, and then the rhythmic rattle of the zipper coming apart.

She held her breath, eyes instantly dropping to discern what lie beneath those lavish trousers.

The logo inscribed along the band ? AEROPOSTALE ? was the only hint at what was there and that was quickly covered as he tucked his shirt inside, the actual reason to his undressing. The growing disappointment in Sheila?s hopeful eyes was noted casually. He stepped around her and toward his chair as he began to re-administer the fastening of button and belt. ?We have plenty of work to get back to, Mrs. Raver, so if you don?t mind?? He didn?t need to actually vocalize her dismissal due to the hammer-hard insinuation.

She turned and parted her lips as though to speak, yet decided not to in the end. She looked to the floor, shocked and appalled at her own actions, and gathered the strength to address him. He was her employer and in a position of authority, and the fact that he didn?t take advantage of her advances ? like so many other employers in her youth had ? gave her a sense of stability. She looked up finally. ?Dr. Shilo, I think-?

?Go call your husband.? He said off-handedly as his attention dropped to his Blackberry screen. ?, I?m sure he?ll be happy to hear from you.?
Again startled, she turned quickly and made her way from his office.
Euriya glanced up to watch as she departed, eyeing the sensual sway of her quickly undulating hips. She drew the door closed behind her; quickly, yet aware enough to not slam it.

Alone, he looked down at the numerous messages his PDA displayed and thumbed through them, only partially attentive to their information. It seemed to him that Mrs. Raver was a bit more precarious than he had first assumed, which explained why she had cheated on Jack to start with. She was one who sought out danger and then reveled in it, even when she knew better.

But everyone had limits, and Euriya suddenly found himself eager to test hers.

A trio of words were suddenly bold upon the illuminated screen, comprising a single phrase able to tear him from this private plotting and cast him back within reality.

Cami Robinson - Discharged.

"Mrs. Raver." He said as his finger found the button to the intercom. "Get me Morning Glory on the phone. Immediately."