The First Lock - 22. Part 2, chapter 2

- II -

Paul rang the doorbell at 7:30 sharp. She thought that she could probably set her clock by this man. She opened the door and smiled at him.

“Hey,” she said in an unexpectedly tender voice. He frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she repeated dumbfoundedly. “Nothing... Why would there be something wrong?”

“You look weird,” he said and kicked off his boots. “What’s up?”

“Stiff dicks and airplanes,” she said and he snorted at that. “Come on, don’t just stand there...”

“Where is Damien?” he looked around.

“At Mandy’s,” she replied. “I’ll get him tomorrow morning. He’s got a new video game and Danny is going to show him some tricks.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Seriously, what’s up, Kat?” he said after she stood by the window, her shoulders tense. Finally, she took a deep breath and faced him.

“Here,” she said and handed him the key.

He took it and stared at it with confusion.

“A key,” he said.

“Yup,” she nodded.

“A key to...?” he looked at her with a silent question, and she rolled her eyes.

“To the FBI headquarters... My house, Paul!”

He blinked.

“Do you want me to drop it off at Mandy’s in case if she needs to come here sometimes?” he asked in bewilderment, and she just sighed.

“No, Paul,” she said patiently. “I want you to put it on your keychain and keep it there. Because if you lose the damn thing, you’ll have to get another copy yourself. I am not waiting in line again.”

He studied her face for several minutes without saying anything. Finally, he let a tiny smile to snake across his mouth, but he never pulled that keychain out of his pocket.

“Why?” he asked instead, and she considered saying something like ‘Why what?’ but she never did.

“Because I don’t want to get my ass off the couch every time you ring the bell,” she said with a small shrug, and he nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he said and slid the key onto the ring that held his keys together, which he finally dug out of his pocket. “Okay,” he said again, and when she looked at him, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming desire to run her fingers through his hair.

She did just that, knowing that the monkey was not the one to blame for this particular urge. Not just because he was at Mandy’s house, but also because he was too young to even understand things like that. Yeah, he was a wonder-kid, but that aside, he was just a five-year-old with the pain-in-the-ass ability.

He wrapped his arms around her, his mouth cautious and hungry at the same time. Suddenly, he pulled away without unlocking the ring of his arms.

“Enigma, who are you?” he asked softly, and she stiffened up just a little without pulling away from his embrace.

Finally, she had enough strength to be able to look up at him. Okay, she thought hazily. Okay...

“Paul,” she said in a tone of voice that was nowhere near gathered. “I am going to tell you...”

She took a deep breath.

“I have coffee waiting,” she muttered, and he pulled away almost for real, except his hands never left her waist.

“Lead the way,” he said seriously, and she grinned weakly at that. She ‘led’ him into the kitchen, enjoying his arms around her waist, and after she filled two mugs with dark-colored caffeinated goodness, she took another deep breath.

“Okay,” she nodded finally and pulled away from him for real. “Here goes...”

...She talked for longer than two hours, which she didn’t expect. She figured that she’d just give him the necessary info, only to find out that she was talking about the inevitable flashbacks. Finally, she stopped talking and drew yet another deep breath.

“So yeah,” she finished. “That’s the sitch,” she remembered monkey’s latest obsession with Kim Possible, hence the expression.

Paul remained silent for a few minutes, and he looked very thoughtful. Finally, he slowly nodded and looked at her solemnly.

“Do you have some paper?” he asked, and she frowned.

“Paper?” she repeated slowly. “What kind of paper?”

“Like a notebook or something,” he said without a smile. “I have a pen on me,” he pulled one out of his pocket. “I figured if I write this shit down, I might send it to Hollywood... Who knows,” he shrugged seriously. “Maybe they’ll make a movie out of it; we’ll be rich then.”

“Paul...” she closed her eyes.

“Kat,” he sighed. “If you don’t want to tell me, just say so... Don’t make some ridiculous crap up instead... It was original though,” he nodded energetically. “At least you didn’t say that you came from Tatooine or something...”

“Paul,” she sighed. “I didn’t make it up, okay? I know that it sounds wild, but...”

“Okay,” he nodded as seriously as before. “Create a mini-tornado then... Oh, wait...!” he slapped his forehead in a ‘Duh!’ gesture. “You can’t! Because you bolted yourself...”

“Locked,” she corrected him automatically.

“My bad,” he agreed. “Kat, come on... Let’s eat something, okay? You don’t feel like telling me, it’s fine... I am hungry, however. Your wild story woke up my appetite, so... Ummm, what are you doing?”

She took a knife from the rack and tightly grasped the handle.

“I can’t use the elements,” she said calmly. “But I still can heal a hell of a lot faster than normal, so...”

“Wait!” he jumped up. “Jesus, Kat, what are you...”

Before he got close enough to her to get that knife away, she brought the blade onto her left palm, wincing when cold steel sank into her flesh. He grabbed the knife away from her after she bit her lip and curled the fingers of her left hand together, blood slowly oozing through them like small drops of garnet.

“Are you nuts?!” he almost exploded. “Jesus, Kat...! Give me your hand!”

“It’ll be fine,” she said when he grabbed her wrist and forced her to uncurl her fingers. “Give it an hour or maybe even less – it’ll be gone.”

“Fucking A,” he muttered and went into the bathroom.

“Don’t waste the bandages,” she rolled her eyes when he came back with cotton balls and bandages.

He grabbed her hand without saying anything and started to clean her palm.

“Paul...”

“This is a hell of a deep cut,” he said finally. “Jesus, do I have to take you to the ER?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, and then just sighed when he started to wrap the bandages tightly around her hand.

“Why the hell did you do it?” he asked finally in a dark voice. “Because I asked you who you were? Shit, Katrena... Okay, I promise that I will never ask you that question again, because you will probably slit your throat next time... Goddammit!”

“Paul...”

“Just sit, will you?” he interrupted her. “I’ll warm up some hotdogs or something...”

“This...” she waved her bandaged hand in the air. “...will be gone in less than an hour.”

He looked at her with a suspicious frown.

“Are you high on something? Or did you hit your head earlier today? You’ll be lucky if that heals in less than a week...” He opened the fridge. “You got that knife almost all the way to your bone! In less than an hour...” he muttered and emerged from the fridge with the box of cold chicken wings. “You are either high or delusional...” He dumped all the wings into a bowl and shoved them into the microwave. “Don’t make me put you on a suicide watch!”

The microwave beeped several times, and he pulled the bowl out and set it on the table.

“Let’s just eat, okay?” he said when she opened her mouth, ready to word something else.

She sighed and reached for the chicken.

****

Forty-five minutes after they finished eating, Katrena started to unwrap the bandages on her hand. Paul looked at her darkly and muted the TV.

“Leave it alone,” he sighed. “Just leave it alone...”

She ignored him and pulled off the bandages. She carefully touched her palm, brushing off dry blood. Finally, she sighed and walked closer to the couch. Without saying anything, she turned her palm towards Paul who looked at it with a tired expression. Tired transformed into rapid blinking, and then into pure confusion. He threw the remote control onto the cushion and grabbed her wrist.

“Hold on,” he muttered with a frown. “Wait a minute...”

“Waiting,” she agreed while he stared at her smooth palm with no sign of the deep, self-inflicted cut that was there an hour earlier.

He grabbed her other hand, as if believing that somehow, she managed to switch hands. He stared at both of her palms for full five minutes of stunned silence, and finally, he let go of her wrists and looked up, his expression bewildered, amazed, and terrified.

“I wasn’t making it up, Paul,” she said quietly. “Now please stop looking at me like I am some sort of a freak, okay?”

He remained mute, and his expression never changed. She sighed, feeling frustrated, angry, and hurt. “Screw it,” she thought gloomily and went to the bathroom to wash her hands. She was slowly washing her hands and studied her reflection in the mirror. “Well,” she thought. “I guess he is going to leave... Not because of me being stupid but because of me being... Well,” she shrugged to her own image in the mirror. “Me,” she finished her thought and turned off the faucets. “Bloody hell,” she thought bitterly while drying her hands on the towel. “So much for telling the truth... Should’ve said that I was from Tatooine, would be easier...”

She sighed, left the towel alone, and turned off the lights. She opened the door and was startled when she almost bumped into Paul, who stood right behind it. “He is going to tell me that this shit is too much for him,” she thought. “He is going to give that damn key back and get the hell out of here...He is going to...”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and cut off every single thought that was stabbing her mind by diving his tongue into her mouth. She froze in her spot for several seconds (“This is his way of saying good-bye...”), and when she realized that this was anything but ‘Good-bye,’ she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with relieved force and hunger.

“You are not a freak,” he muttered into her mouth several minutes later. “You are just an enigma wrapped in a riddle, surrounded by mystery, who possesses freakish abilities, from a place that doesn’t exist...”

“It exists,” she whispered. “I can’t go back there, but it exists...”

“Whatever,” he said very seriously, and then he was kissing her again.

Somehow (very slowly), they made it to the bedroom without unlocking their lips. She stripped him with ease, those buttons merely a nuisance to her by now, and then she pushed him onto the bed. She looked at him from above, both of her arms pressed down into the mattress on either side of him, and when he grabbed her waist and tried to pull her down, she shook her head.

“I wanna try something,” she said in a low voice, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Try something?” he repeated. “I thought we tried pretty much everything... What else is there? Something they do on Tatooine that I am not aware of?”

She laughed.

“No,” she said. “They do it here as well; I just never did it to you before... I wanna do it now.”

“Okay,” he said in somewhat doubtful voice. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, she stroked his lips with her finger.

“Suck it,” she ordered with a small smile.

“Yes, mistress,” he said seriously and wrapped his mouth around her finger.

She watched him for several minutes, her eyes half-lidded.

“God, you look sexy when you do that...” she muttered finally, and then she lowered her face onto his neck without pulling her finger out of his mouth.

She slowly traveled down his neck and chest, taking her time when she got to his nipples. He moaned and bit her finger when she nibbled on the sensitive flesh. She looked up.

“I said ‘suck,’ not ‘bite,’ ” she muttered.

“Sorry,” he mumbled around her digit.

She smiled and lowered her face once again. She trailed down his chest with her tongue and lips, leaving small marks on his skin as she went. He almost bit onto her finger a couple more times when her teeth decided to be anything but gentle, but he managed to stop himself right before his jaw locked onto her knuckle. Finally, when she got all the way down to his hips, she pulled her hand away.

“Umm...” he said and gasped when her mouth wrapped around him. “We’ve done that before...” he muttered weakly. “Not that I am complaining... Ohh...”

“Mmmm...” was all she hummed, and his back slightly arched.

He closed his eyes, slowly rocking his hips, trying to stay as still as possible, but it was a difficult task. He felt her hand caressing skin on his thighs, and when he felt her pushing his legs apart, he just did it without even registering it in his hazed mind. His eyes flew wide open the minute he felt her slick with his saliva finger pressing gently its way into his body.

“What the...” he muttered. “Oh, hell, no!”

She pulled her face off him and looked up.

“Relax,” she murmured. “Just relax...”

“Kat,” he breathed somewhat firmly. “You are not shoving your finger up my ass!”

She traveled back to his face and lightly kissed his mouth.

“It won’t hurt,” she said seriously. “My finger is not that big. It’ll be uncomfortable at first, yeah, but it won’t hurt...”

“At first?” he asked incredulously.

“Uh huh,” she nodded with serene smile. “You’ll like it, I promise...”

“I highly doubt that,” he said without looking away. “Kat, I am not shoving anything up my ass, okay?”

“Just let me do it once,” she kissed him again. “If you don’t like it, I will never do it again, I promise...”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Since when did you develop this obsession with my ass?” he asked, and she laughed.

“I always had an obsession with your ass,” she nodded. “Couldn’t help it, really... But seriously... Just once, okay...? Please...?”

“Kat...”

“Please,” she whispered into his mouth, and he closed his eyes.

“Goddammit...” he muttered after she pulled away. “Just once,” he looked at her pointedly, and she nodded silently. “And don’t you dare shoving more than one finger in there!”

“I won’t,” she whispered into his mouth again, and slid back down to his hips.

He closed his eyes when he felt her mouth around him again; he was also very much aware of her slender digit pushing its way into him.

“Relax,” she muttered, pulling away for a second, and he said something that resembled the infamous ‘F-word.’ She sighed, lowered her face onto his length, and hummed mercilessly. He breathed something unintelligible and his hips thrust upwards just a little. Apparently, that was enough for her persistent finger to finally succeed. He hissed through his clenched teeth, and she looked up with a small frown.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” she asked quickly.

“No,” he muttered. “It doesn’t hurt, but it feels weird... And not good-weird,” he added after a second.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Okay?” he repeated with a strained moan. “Oh, fuck, Kat... Seriously, bad-weird, okay?”

She hummed something else, and his body became very confused with the mix of bad-weird and ‘oh-don’t-stop’ sensations.

After several minutes with him mumbling something that didn’t make much sense, and her searching relentlessly within his body, he finally gained enough control to be able to say:

“Okay... I have no idea what the hell you are looking for, but I have a feeling you are not going to find it... Look, let’s just... Oh, fuck me!”

“Working on it,” she said with a satisfied smile.

His hips jerked upwards when that persistent finger of hers brushed against something that made him see stars.

“Ohh...” he breathed when the wave of pulsating pleasure disappeared into nothing. “Holy shit, do it again!”

She obliged and her finger started caressing that unknown spot, as her mouth continued working him into oblivion. He realized that he was not going to last much longer with her going at this rate. He tried saying ‘Slow down,’ but instead, he said:

“Oh, fuck, don’t stop!”

He knew he was close, but he didn’t realize how close until she started humming again, and her finger pressed harder against that hidden button of his.

“Oh, Jesus...!” he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face off him. “Fuck, Kat, I...”

That was all he was able to say when an insanely-intense wave knocked all breath out of him, and all he could do was howl. She started kissing the hollow of his throat while his body kept convulsing, his teeth locked on his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut. Finally, he was able to draw a deep breath and slowly open his eyes.

“Jesus...” he said weakly. “I had no idea it was even possible to come like this... Oh, God...”

She grinned and kissed his lips.

“Want me to do it again sometimes?” she asked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Hell, yeah...”

She laughed softly and wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his chest. He lay still for several minutes, clutching onto her fingers, regaining his breath. Finally, he pulled her arm off his waist and pushed her onto her back. She looked at him with a silent question.

“Time for Episode two,” he said seriously, and she snorted.

“Paul,” she said in a low voice. “You are thirty-four, not seventeen... You won’t recuperate so quickly...”

He rolled his eyes.

“I have more than one body part to return a favor with,” he said. “Believe me...”

He was absolutely right.