The Spiral Chapter 5

The kiss held for a long minute. The only sounds in the kitchen were the muted ticking of the coffee machine, the soft hum of the refrigerator, and the sympathetic rise and fall of Connor and Lunette's breath. Lunette was perched on one knee in front of Connor, one hand resting on the table, the other on his neck. Slowly, his hands slid over to hers, engulfing them, steadying her.

Lunette gasped slightly when their lips parted, short of breath. She looked into Connor's eyes, and she looked into his mind, and could scarcely believe that she saw acceptance in both. Her lips twitched, and she tried to fight a smile, but she couldn't. She bashfully glanced at his chest, but in a moment his hand was under her chin, tilting it up.

"Don't be afraid anymore," he said quietly. "Don't look away, don't... don't run away from the world anymore."

Lunette thought her heart was going to stop, or explode... she didn't know which. She couldn't believe the feeling inside of her. After telling that story, she'd thought it was too soon, she thought he'd turn her away, but she knew that if she didn't make her move then, she'd never have the courage again. The moment would have passed. So she jumped in, with both feet, and he caught her.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but she wasn't going to do it crouched on the floor anymore. Their lips connected, and she continued to stand, pushing his head back, gripping his shoulders. In moments, she sat on his lap, legs straddling his waist. Due to the considerable difference in height, even sitting on his lap she still had to tilt her head up slightly. She tightened her grip, pulling herself up, grinding her hips against his belly. She closed her eyes when she felt Connor's hands tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer.

In spite of the story, in spite of the kiss, she still felt a twang of nervousness when she felt her panties start to tighten around her, unable to fight her biological urges. She tried to move her hips backwards a little bit, just to take the pressure off, but she could feel Connor's lips move into a smile, and his powerful arms prevented from moving very far.

"What did I just tell you?" he said with a twinkle in his eye when the kiss broke for the second time. Lunette chuckled, and stared down again.

"Well, monsieur, zis is... well, with a few exceptions, zis is pretty new to me." She could feel her panties tightening further, and she squirmed uncomfortably as her anatomy strained against the pressure. She took a deep breath, and looked back into Connor's eyes, finding bravery in his arms. "Also, zere seems to be some influence from you..."

Connor's eyebrows arched quizzically for a moment, and then raised in surprise, with the hints of a devilish smile returning. "Oh, really?" he said dramatically, peeking down between them. He relaxed his grip, and Lunette leaned back a little bit, peeking down as well. She could feel the tingling in her body, and she could feel the influence that Kila's image was having on her body, and she smiled.

She tugged her loose shirt back a little bit, exposing her smooth white undies and the sizeable bulge that was pinned gently between her hips and his belly. She was a little startled to see that it was still somewhat soft, despite filling out her panties with a bulge the size of her small first. She giggled again, wiggling her hips, and rubbing it against him. They both watched, hypnotized, as the bulge swelled bigger, becoming more defined as the fabric stretched more. "Mon dieu," she breathed.

She scooted back a few inches to give herself more room to grow, the image of Kila very clear in her mind. She knew what was about to happen to her undies, and as the tingling spread, she knew what else was next. Connor sat, entranced, watching her panties fill out obscenely, as Lunette's view was obscured by her swelling bosom. She sat up a little bit to relieve the pressure on her, bumping her now very noticeable breasts against his chin. His attention changed suddenly from her lap to her chest, his eyebrows rising again.

"Oh, you're good," he said huskily, pulling her hips closer again, pulling her chest to his and moving in to kiss her again. Lunette closed her eyes, melting into his arms, when he stopped with a jerk. She stiffened, pulling back, eyes wide.

"What is it?"

Connor sat there, eyes half closed, shaking his head. "No, not... not her... not her face..."

Lunette stopped, one hand moving up to her face, touching the now slightly unfamiliar cheekbones, and she knew that she was changing too much. "I am sorry, I... I was going with it, I can't always choose..."

She closed her eyes, focusing hard, focusing harder than she had in years. She saw the image in his mind, but she knew that he didn't want all of it. She knew that she was in charge of her body, but it was often so hard, too hard, to resist the impetus of those she was with. She focused on the body parts, listening to Connor speak.

"I like you for you, Lunette, you don't need to change. You don't... Kila was remarkable, and you're remarkable, you don't need to copy her."

Lunette saw the images in Connor's mind whirling, visions of her and Kila together. She clenched her tiny fists, ordering her body to obey her will, to help make this man happy, to give him what he really wanted, and she could feel it responding. She opened her eyes, and reached up to touch Connor's face, which was still shaking slightly in denial. "Connor..."

He stopped, and looked at her, and his eyes softened. "Be you," he said softly, smiling, moving in to kiss her.

"I will be me," she said, "but there's more to me than other girls..."

She squeezed her thighs together, pulling herself closer and pressing her still unrealistically-sized endowment against him, her loose shirt now starting to pull snug across her chest. She felt one hand slide down to her ass, squeezing her closer, while the other slide around to her side, and then scooted over to move over her still-expanding breast. "You're controlling this?" he gasped.

"Most of it, oui... I can do it, if I want to... hard enough..."

Both of his hands slid down to her bottom, squeezing harder than before, but Lunette was caught off guard when Connor leaned forward and stood up. She squealed, her legs flailing on either side of him, her arms wrapping around his neck. She laughed when she realized that he was holding her up, and she twined her legs around him, trying to lock her ankles but not entirely sure how. She snuggled into his neck, showering him with kisses as he walked. Inch by inch, she could feel her bustline expanding as well, and she couldn't help giggling.

"You have interesting taste in girlfriends, monsieur," she said into his neck, enjoying the ride as Connor climbed the stairs.

"Hey, you all find me," Connor replied with a laugh. "I was just sitting at the bar, having a drink, but nooooo...."

Lunette felt a thrill as she was whisked through the threshold into his bedroom. She hiked herself up in his grip, pulling herself up closer to him as he backed towards the bed. "Hold on," he said, turning sideways and dramatically leaping into the air, dropping them onto the bed. Lunette squealed again, bouncing on the mattress as her grip was broken. She rolled away from Connor, throwing her head back and laughing. Connor laughed with her, still holding her hand. For a long moment, they laid side by side, staring at the cieling, chuckling to themselves. Lunette had to place her other hand on her shirt, keeping her now head-sized breasts in place when they threatened to shift backwards and suffocate her.

"Tabernac, I'm going to need all new underwear," she mumbled sweetly, rolling onto her side, pressing her chest into his arm, and bringing his hand to her undies. "Feel how tight zis is, I can't believe I thought these would fit me..."

"Well, then," Connor said, also shifting onto his side to face her, "there's only one solution for that, is there?"

He moved onto all fours, gently bowling her over and straddling her. She giggled, staring up into his face, tugging her shirt down to keep her bosom in place. "I will have to learn how to sleep with these," she said, squeezing her arms against the outer slopes of her breasts, pushing them up and out against the now-snug shirt.

"You'll do fine," he replied, gently laying kisses upon each of the small nubs that poked little tents into the shirt. She closed her eyes and moaned softly, and Connor's eyes widened when he saw her breasts swell visibly in response. She still wasn't as big as Kila, maybe only half as buxom, but she was still filling out a regular-sized shirt almost beyond capacity. He inched downwards, nuzzling her breasts and tugging her shirt up so he could plant small kisses upon her trim belly.

Lunette's thighs quivered as his lips crossed her belly button. She wriggled, barely able to contain her excitement. For perhaps the first time in her life, someone was pleasuring her without any regard for reciprocation. Even with those who were gentle, she was still nothing more than an object for sexual pleasure, but this... this must be how those men had wanted to feel. She shuddered, one hand straying down to her panties which had long ago become too small and were now almost torturously tight. She started to hook a thumb into the gap in the waistband to pull them down, but Connor got there first, moving her hand away.

"Ooooooooh," she said, beyond words for the first time ever as well. Connor positioned himself as she parted her legs. He softly stroked her thighs, revelling as each caress caused Lunette's entire body to quake. Starting at her knee, he traced his lips up her silky skin, feeling her vibrate. He tried to go slowly, but his own desire was impossible to ignore, and all to soon, he found his lips pressing softly against the shiny-tight fabric of her panties, and the painfully constrained but still swelling organ they contained.

"Connor, it... ow.... this isn't comfortable anymore... ow..."

Connor's face softened, and he leaned up onto his elbow. "As much as I want to go slow, I can't keep doing this to you... here goes..." He reached up with one hand, hooking his fingers in the front, and snuggled one hand underneath her buttocks, grabbing the edge of her panties in the back. He pulled down, but she was already bulging too much for her undies to be simply slipped over. "Uhm, I think we have a problem..."

"Putain!" she cried, sitting up with a squeak of pain as her panties pinched. She couldn't see over her magnificent chest, which was now filling out the old football shirt rather too much. but she could feel where the panties dug into her hip. She reached down, and dug her long nails into the fabric. She had learned how to do this to guys, since some of them apparently liked having the clothes torn off them in a fit of passion, but this was in a pique of agony. With one deft movement, she ripped them right up the side, and they parted like the pages of an opening book.

"Ahhh, baiser," she said softly, the pressure released. Her panties were still snug around one leg, but her anatomy was freed, and the deep-seated soreness vanished almost instantly. She breathed deep for a moment, smiling wide, when she realized that Connor had, as of her sudden release, not said anything. She tilted sideways, and peeked at him from around her bosom. "Ma cherie?"

She saw Connor still sitting, between her legs, up on one elbow. His eyes were wide and glazed, his mouth was slightly agape, and his held was slowly tilting up, in order to take in all of her. Lunette giggled, and her own eyes travelled slowly up her length, which she had to admit was breathtaking. She usually never got a chance to really admire herself whenever she changed, and certainly not when she was this big (Mr Black was often in a hurry). Her other hand slipped around her hips, across her lap, and slowly encircled her shaft, or at the very least tried to. She slid her hand up, slowly, relishing the sensation, and giggling when Connor's eyes met her hand on the way back down. "Are you all right, cherie?"

"I... you... I'm not sure. I think my heart stopped."

She tittered as he reached over, twining his fingers around hers, and sliding them up again. Her back arched and she closed her eyes, losing herself entirely in the sensation. "You are.... very gentle," she breathed when his hand eventually reached the tip of her shaft, now full and gloriously Kila-sized. Connor's arm was nearly at full extension, from his place on the matress, resting his head against her thigh like a pillow as he gazed up at her body. "How big.... how big was she?"

Their hands moving down as one, he began to kiss his way over to the base again, unencumbered with time restraints. "She *kiss* was *kiss* twenty *kiss* eight *kiss* inches..." he spoke slowly, breathing in her heady scent. He could see that she was clearly all woman, despite her additional features. Her leg parted more, and Lunette bit her lower lip hard, other hand digging hard into the sheets.

"...." she tried to speak, but a hoarse gasp was all she could manage. Connor smiled, and assumed that he was doing a good job. He rolled a little bit more onto his front, because he knew he'd have to sit up shortly. He kissed the base of her shaft, which was remarkably like Kila's. For a moment, he had to blink away a tear, but he knew that Kila would have wanted him to be happy... and perhaps he was having a religious experience. What were the odds of meeting two girls like this? None. But here he was. Here they were.

Slightly bigger around than a pop can, flushed pink, and surprisingly smooth, he kissed his way up the considerably length of her shaft. Every touch of his lips to her skin sent a shiver through her body, and he adored watching her breasts respond to her body's movements. Higher and higher he rose, until he was sitting up but hunched over to reach the tip. His lips lingered for a moment just behind the magenta head, and both of Luentte's hands were gripping the sheets, twisting them hard enough to pull them completely off of the bed. He also suspected she'd stopped breathing. Slowly, his only chance to do this a first time, he traced the tip of his tongue around the tip, and up to the top.

Lunette's hips rose completely off of the bed, her body now supported by her calves and shoulders. Her eyes were clenched tight, and one sheet-wrapped hand was pawing at her chest in the throes of ecstasy. Connor was pleased when she didn't end the affair early... Kila often had a bit of a hair trigger. After a tense moment, Lunette collapsed, breathing raggedly, sweat beading on her forehead.

"Promettez-moi que vous ferez cela encore." She moaned.

Connor blinked. "Pardon?"

"Promise me," she said with a small, tired smile, "that you will do that again. Often."

Connor smiled widely. "Trust me... you don't have to ask."

He crawled over her leg, and laid down next to her. He marvelled at how well her erect endowment stayed pointing at the ceiling, swaying gently with Lunette's small movements. They kissed, his hands wrapping around her body and pulling her close, her own hands reaching over and gripping his jeans with fierce devotion. "I never hoped it would get this far," she said, staring him in the eye.

"To be honest... me either."

He slipped his hand under her shirt, marveling as her bosom had indeed reached the full size, so to speak. One quick movement, and her shirt was bunched up around her neck. She giggled, and removed the rest of it herself, now gloriously naked on the bed amidst a messy pile of sheets. She pulled herself over again, pressing her breasts against his chest, and one hand gently tilting her still slightly-twitching endowment down to rest between them.

"I don't think I want to leave this bed ever again," she whispered, her breath mixing with his, caressing the tip of her shaft.

Connor leaned in kissing her on the lips, and then moving farther south. "If I have my way, you won't."


(Stay tuned for part 2!)

The Spiral - Chapter 3

The Spiral - Chapter 3

It was approaching midnight, and Connor walked down the side street with Lunette by his side. She still wore all of Kila's old clothes, which now fit considerably better, for reasons that Connor was trying mightily to understand.They had left the main streets behind, just to get away from the omnipresent crowds. Lunette had started to speak three times, and each time she had stopped, unsure of how to explain.

"You must understand, I haven't had to... to explain zis for many many years."

"Of course," Connor said, nodding, not really understanding.

"I suppose I should start back at the beginning, oui?"

"Works for me."

She glanced up at him. He was still a little startled by how young she looked, how fresh-faced and innocent she looked. Earlier that night he had picked up someone who would most definitely have passed for a successful stripper, and now, she looked like she should be getting back to her Psychology 101 class. She had assured her that this was what she actually looked like, most of the time, which did nothing to ease his confusion.

"When I was little, you see, I was in school all day, and everyone in school knew what I looked like, and it never occurred to anyone to Want anything different from me, but when boys, zey get to a certain age, their desires start to change." She glanced at him, but his mind was once again grey. "Most boys."

He eyed her funny, then had to smile, a little bit. "Hey, we're not here to talk about me, missy. We're here to talk about you, even if you make no sense."

"I'm getting to zat. As I said, once boys got to a certain age, they started to Want... that's a capital W, by the way."

"I assumed."

"Yes, it was then that I discovered that my body tended to... to respond to their desires, to their wants. It was always in small ways, because the Wants were never in the front of their mind, and were never aimed at me... is a bit like second-hand smoke, you know? Anyways, some days my hair would be longer when I got home than when I left, or my boobs bigger, or my eyes a different color. Small things, simple things, but as I got older, they started to think more, they started to think harder, and I had to start wearing baggy clothes to hide all the changes."

Connor's eyes had widened, and had he not heard the same voice coming out of two very different people, wearing the same clothes, he would not have believed a word of it. "Couldn't your parents help? Surely they had to notice. Take you out of school, or something?"

She shook her head. "Zey knew I was different, already, but they didn't believe me, because as soon as I got home, I became what they Wanted, and that was a normal girl. It's not always about... about lust. They Wanted their daughter to be normal, so for them, I was. For the boys at school, I was a voluptuous tramp, and for the random men on the street, I was an innocent, gullible waif. My mind never changed to what they Wanted, but I was afraid someday, it would."

He had to nod, a bit of dawning realization startling him. "Someone might Want you to not just be someone, but do something you didn't want to."

"Oui," she said softly, eyes downcast. Cautiously, he put his arm around her, comforting her, careful to keep his mind blank. She looked up at him, and smiled a little. "Most guys."

He smiled back. "Go on. If you want, I mean, you don't have to tell me any more, I think I get the idea."

"No no, I... I want to tell you. You have done so much for me, and you still don't Want anything from me. If you don't mind me saying, monsieur, this is a new experience for me."

Connor chuckled, and she continued. "I started getting asked out, and one boy I liked, Roger, asked me to a dance. I said yes, because his Wants were almost what I looked like normally, and I thought that if he Wanted me like that more, it might help keep me from changing. We dated, we got to know eachother, and we started to like eachother more, but I still couldn't, you know... go all ze way. Without telling him, I mean."

She paused, wondering how to phrase it, but decided against it. Later. Not now. He would find out later. "So I told him, and at first, it was ok. We were in his car, parked and necking, and he seemed to take it ok. But almost immediately, he Wanted something. When he found out he could do it, when he found out he had that power over me, his Wants surfaced, and he became... different. I was ok, at first, he tried to make it seem like he still liked me, but wanted to try new things. First was ze boobs, you know... teenaged boys, zey love them. I was ok with that. But at school, he started Wanting me, making me change. I was blonde for a few days, and I had a fuck of a time explaining that."

Another pause, another nervous swallow. "Then he started making demands. Telling me to do things, or he would change me worse at school. He always acted like it was a joke, like it was funny, but I was scared. I went along, for a while. I hated it... I enjoyed pleasing him before I'd told him, but now, it made me sad, it made it worse. In ze end, I wouldn't go all the way, and he made me change... in class. My boobs, my bottom, my... everything started growing. People were laughing, and I ran. And he followed me, and said it was my last chance."

They walked in silence for nearly half a block. Connor couldn't possibly say anything in that space, and Lunette seemed to be preparing herself. She took a shuddering breath, and squared her shoulders. "When he got close, I kneed him very, very hard. He started screaming, and people started coling out of the classes. I ran, and... and he kept screaming. To zis day, I still don't know if he's ok. I went home, I got some money, and I ran."

She sniffled. "I ran, and I hitched, and... and I came here. My first waitress job lasted only five days before zis big man, truck driver, apparently thought I looked like his ex-girlfriend, and I started to change in ze diner. That.... that didn't go well, and I ran."

"I managed to get a job answering phones, and no-one Wanted me for anything, there, and it was there that I got an idea, and... and I put personals in ze newspaper. I told people that they could call me, for ze girl of their dreams. And zey would call, and zey would... describe what zey wanted, and when I went to meet them, I had changed most of the way, and I would always finish very quickly, when I could see their minds. it paid good money, and many of ze men were very nice, but one night... one night, it was a family man, and..."

Connor had taken three steps before realizing that she had stopped. He turned, eyes wide with concern, and walked back. He put his hands on her shoulders, thin and shaking under Kila's coat. "It's ok," he said softly, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her. She was even slimmer than she had been when they met, he marveled. She couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds. "They're gone, and..."

He stopped. Down at the end of the block they had just travelled past was a man in a black duster. He was leaning in a doorway, smoking, and making a very impressive show of not looking at them. He hadn't been there when they had walked past that doorway minutes earlier. "They're gone, and it's time we were gone, too," he said, keeping his voice steady.

She nodded against his chest, and sniffled. "Oui," she said, barely a whisper. She looked up at him, once, her eyes brimming with tears but there was a smile on her lips. "Merci."

"De nada," he replied, smiling back. "But I think we should be on our way, n'est pas?"

"Tu parle francais?"

"Pamplemouuse."

"Ah."

They resumed walking, with Lunette's sleeve brushing Connor's arm. He wanted to take her arm, and she wanted to take his, but neither were sure if it was the right time. They were, however, both content to walk in silence as they looped back around to the bus depot from the other side. The entire time. Lunette's thoughts were focused on what to do with her newfound freedom, and how to tell Connor about the rest of her condition, while Connor was busy trying to figure out the best way to evade the surveillance that his car was no doubt under at the moment.

"So, where do you want to go?" Connor said as they got within a block. He was well trained in how to deal with civilians during stressful, dangerous situations. "I mean, tomorrow. Staying here in town would be a bad idea for you, if they know what you look like."

Lunette sighed. "I don't know. Anywhere else, who's to say the same thing wouldn't happen? I would get into the same trouble, somewhere, sometime. Maybe if I could get a job where I work from home, and no-one ever sees me. Computer tech support..." She seemed pensive, but in her heart, she was yelling, screaming at Connor to let her stay more than one night, just let her stay with him. She could try to be happy in his house, if she could be with him. She had to try.

"Well, I'm more than happy to drive you anywhere you need to go. I've got a bit saved up, and I guess you could say I'm between jobs right now, I could help set you up someplace new. Boston's lovely, this time of year."

Her throat caught, and her reply died there. She almost blurted out something embarassing, but something terrifying saved her. "C..." was all she managed to say, clutching at his arm. Connor, though, was way ahead of her, and as they drew near to his car, he kept them walking past it.

"When we get one car length, turn around and run, get into the car," he murmured from the side of his mouth. They had both seen Rico standing at a window in the bus depot, eyeing them balefully. They passed his car, they passed the Toyota behind it, and Connor knew that there were men getting out of cars, ready to follow again on foot. As soon as they passed the Toyota's bumper, though, Connor shoved her arm slightly, and turned and sprinted around onto the street. Cars screeched to a halt, and for a moment Lunette stopped, staring in horror, afraid her saviour had just been run down, but she saw him simply standing in traffic, forcing the cars to stop, waving his arms. He turned to her, and jabbed ins finger at the car.

She shook herself, and ran the short distance to the car, but she felt like she was running through molasses. Rico would come bursting through the doors to the depot any second, and grab her, drag her to his car, holding a knife to her throat, a gun to her head, a hamfist over her mouth, and she would scream, and scream...

Her fingers closed on the handle, and she yanked it open, practically leaping inside. She very nearly closed the door on her hand as she yanked it shut, the other hand scrabbling for the locking switch. She sat there, panting, for a few seconds, head whipping around, looking for Connor. Traffic had completely halted on the street, but she couldn't see Connor anywhere, and fresh fears that he had been run down or gunned down bloomed in her mind.

"Non, non, non," she moaned, still searching. She had emptied herself of tears that night, though, and through her eyes quivered, she could not cry. She was emptied, emotionally, and she was in a car with no driver in the middle of a mafia ambush, and she didn't know what was going to happen next. She surprised herself by not screaming when Connor whipped open the door and slid inside, slamming the key into the ignition and gunning the engine in a fluid, practiced motion.

"Don't try that at home!" he cried, dropping the car into second, and then all sound was overpowered by the roar of the engines and the squeal of the tires. Lunette was pinned to the plush upholstery, the air almost forced from her chest as they slewed into the curb lane, then the center lane, and almost into oncoming traffic. In the end, the car straightened out, and with nearly a block of road devoid of traffic going their direction, they covered it in seconds.

They caught up to the traffic at an intersection, that Connor rounded at speed, the tires on Lunette's side wailing in protest. Now pinned against the door, it was all she could do to turn her head and stare at Connor who was driving like a man posessed. The engine roared again, and once again she was pinned back, but not as hard, as they wove in and out of the non-speeding traffic.

"That should put some distance between us," he said calmly, while Lunette tried not to hyperventilate. Two more corners taken slightly slower, and he finally eased back on the throttle as the shops and bars gave way to dense residential and apartment buildings. "But damn, they want you back. I counted four. Who did you see?"

She stared out the window, nails digging into her palms, forcing herself to try to calm down. "J-j-juste Rico..." she stammered. "Zere were others?"

He nodded. "Two in a cadillac a few cars down, and one on the other side of the street, plus the guy who had been tailing us. They definitely want you back."

She swallowed, and tried to unclench her small hands. "Probably. I know a lot about them... they talk, a lot, especially after, and some of them... well, let's just say they have tastes that they wouldn't like made public."

"Don't we all," Connor replied wryly. "So what you're saying is you've got a ton of evidence against a mafia crime family, and now you're on the run?"

Her face scrunched up, but there was definitely no more tears, no more sadness, just a sort of empty resignation. "Yup."

"Ok, just making sure we were clear on that."

They drove for a few blocks more, and Lunette decided that to hell with sexual favors, and being objectified. She scooted over on the front seat, placed herself hip to hip with Connor, and wrapped her arms around his right arm, making sure he could still drive. "I hope it's ok," she said, voice unnaturally smooth," but I just really need to hold on to someone right now."

There wasn't the slightest bit of annoyance in his voice as he shifted his right arm, and put it around her shoulders, draping it across her body, where she resumed hugging it like it would try to escape. "That is not a problem, Lunette."

Connor thought about the best route home. He wanted to make sure there were no tails. "I'm going to talk the long way around, come in from the other side, ok?"

She nodded against his arm soundlessly. They drove in silence, and the only noise was Lunette periodically adjusting her stranglehold on his arm. It felt to Connor that she was never going to let go, and he couldn't blame her after the night she had. It was only after they turned at a highway gas station and started to head back into town through a logging road that he heard her soft, gentle snores against his sleeve, and he chuckled to himself. He adjusted his arm slightly to get the blood flowing again, and patted her tummy.

"Tomorrow, we worry," he said. "Tonight, we rest."

Half an hour later, and her snoring had faded into regular, muffled breathing, and Connor had finally pulled onto his stretch of road. He slowed down, flicking off the headlights, and taking the last few miles as silently as he could, the spedometer hovering just above 20. He watched for any suspicious vehicles, glints in the woods, shadows by his house, as they drew nearer. There had been nothing to arouse his suspicion, and as he pulled into his driveway and the smooth hiss of the road was replaced by the loud crunching of gravel, Lunette woke with a jerk. "Quoi...?"

"Shh, shh, shh," he whispered. "It's ok, we're back. I was just making sure there was no-one here." In the moonlight, he could see the rain-slicked lawn, and didn't notice any tire tracks. The gravel was harder to examine, but it, too, seemed as he had left it. He pulled right up to the house, and killed the engine.

"Is that enough excitement for one night?" he said, resting his chin gently on the top of her head.

"Oui," she whispered back, squeezing his arm one last time before reluctantly sliding towards the door of the car.

Connor reached down, slipped his hand beneath the driver's seat, and carefully withdrew the Glock that he kept there, making sure to keep it hidden from Lunette as she got out of the car. He was reasonably sure that there was no-one around, but he didn't make it this far in life relying on reasonable chances. He preferred to make his own. Lunette got out of the car, the dome lights illuminating the beaded grass around them.

They walked slowly to the house, Lunette with her arm through Connor's, and Connor's gun tucked into his jacket pocket. They both breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut behind them. Lunette looked up at Connor, a little bashful.

"I'm sorry to do zis to your life, monsieur Connor," she said contritely. "Car chases and mafia hitmen... I am not ze normal type of girl."

He smiled right back. "The normal types of girl aren't any fun at all," he said, walking up the stairs and beckoning her to follow as she removed her jacket. The living room was as he had left it, but his eye was caught quickly by a note on the fridge. He stopped, and then walked over to it, curiously. He was almost close enough to make it out when a pair of tiny hands encircled his wrist.

"No, no, non," she said, a little nervously. "That was... something I wrote when I left. I... I did not think I would come back. Here, let me.. here..."

Connor wanted to read it, but he didn't have it in him to embarrass her, on top of everything else that had happened. He let her remove it from the fridge, crumple it up and stuff it into the pocket of her jeans. "Top secret, eh?"

"Oui," she said with an elfin smile, but the bloom in her cheeks betrayed her.

They stood in silence for a moment. Connor looked around, and noticed the clock. "Well, it's after midnight. Today really is the first day of the rest of your life, I guess," he said in an effort to reassure her. Brave or bravado, he wasn't sure, but she seemed on the verge of falling over. "Look, why don't we just sit down for a bit. You've had a hell of a night. Would you like a drink?"

She paused on her way to the couch. Her legs were about to give out, but what could it hurt to have a drink? She believed she knew him well enough by now, after the bizarre, amazing night to trust him. "What do you have?" she asked.

"Uhm, I got some local beer, some Glenfiddich, some Grey Goose... you didn't seem too into your whiskey tonight, if you don't mind me saying."

"I didn't order it. Goose and lemon about fifty fifty, if that's all right."

"You must be Canadian. Stop being so polite."

"No."

They shared a laugh, and glasses clinked in the kitchen as Lunette sagged into the couch. Her muscles, now fully back in their original shapes, were exhausted. Her hair hurt, and her forehead pounded, but resting her head back against the leather cushions and closing her eyes seemed to wash it all away. Most nights, when she closed her eyes, she was acutely aware that when she opened them again, she would still be a prisoner, but now... but now, when she opened them again, who knows what would happen?

The couch heaved slightly, and she opened her eyes to see Connor sitting at the opposite end, holding out a stubby glass filled with neon yellow. "Fifty fifty lemon and Goose for the lady. I tell you, Canadians drink the oddest things."

"We can't help it. Our beer has alcohol in it, and it's given us a taste for the good stuff."

She sipped her drink, half-strength lemon juice mixed with half-strength vodka. Somehow, the bitter and the burning cancelled eachother out, leaving only a sweet and sour mixture that warmed her throat and tingled on her tongue. "They usually don't let me order my own drink," she mumbled, eyes closed again, leaning back but closer to Connor than before. "They don't even let me pick out my own clothes. They have a very specific image of what they Want, sometimes down to the specific person. Ex-wife, ex-girlfriend, sister... it's almost always someone they feel victimized by. It might be cathartic for them, but it's... it's not an easy job."

Connor's face hardened. He really, really wanted to wrap his hands around the necks of the people who could do this sort of thing to a young girl who couldn't control how she looked, keep her locked up except when she was brought out as a sexual favor to others. Kila had... had... he sighed. In the long run, the bad guys usually won, since it was easier to be bad in an indifferent world, than good. He wanted to say he was sorry, but he didn't think she wanted to hear it, to have his pity. She was strong.

She sipped again, wriggling her shoulders and maneovering herself closer to Connor, eventually coming to rest against his arm. "Mes ami, this is the longest a man has ever gone without Wanting anything from me." there was something under the surface, she just knew it... someone very special, that he kept buried. There was pain there, but it wasn't the pain of being jilted or dumped. It was loss. She had experienced it a few times from her consorts, but it was a distant minority. Maybe someday, Connor would trust her enough to show her what he Wanted. For him, she would be anyone.

They sat on the couch together for some time. With an exasperated sigh, Lunette reached up and grabbed Connor's arm, bringing it across her body and pinning his hand to her stomach. "You think you'd never been on a couch with a girl before," she said sleepily, enjoying the weight and warmth. Connor smiled as she downed the rest of her drink, and he downed his to match. Both contented and somewhat light-headed, both breathing slowly with faint smiles upon their lips, they fell asleep, Lunette feeling safer than she could remember, and Connor feeling at peace for the first time in years.

-------

The early morning sun streamed in through the high windows, bathing the living room in golden light. Connor, who was long used to sleeping in, did not even vaguely notice, but Lunette blinked herself awake almost immediately. At some point during the night, she had rolled over, and her face rested against Connor's chest, and his hand was pinned between his stomach and her breasts. She giggled slightly, sitting up as gently as she could. She didn't have a whole lot there to offer, but it was still nice to feel an innocent touch again.

Lunette sat on the couch, watching her burly protector snoring contentedly for a few minutes. Even now, asleep, she couldn't read his Want, but it was definitely closer to the surface. She'd coax it out of him, somehow. Careful not to disturb his legs, she stood up and stretched, enjoying the sensation of her joints creaking and popping. It was the sound her new life starting, she fancied, and she planned to enjoy it. The first part of enjoyment would be a shower.

She padded upstairs quietly, glancing once at Connor's open bedroom, but decided that, like her, he valued his privacy. She simply headed into the bathroom, closed the door quietly, and started fiddling with the knobs until she had a steam-billowing shower going. Slowly, she managed to work her body into the stream without scalding herself, and in a few minutes was simply turning in a slow circle, luxuriating in the heat. Once, years ago, she had burned herself in the shower to avoid being taken out on a date with a particularly offensive enforcer, and as punishment, she had had her hot water completely removed. She vowed then and there, surrounded by steam, to have a hot shower, every day. Maybe two.

When the hot water finally began to wane, she reluctantly shut off the taps, and stood there in the fog that remained. Even after swinging aside the shower curtain, she couldn't see much. She giggled. "I think I overdid ze hot water," she said to herself, fumbling for a towel, eventually finding one. Her skin had been scrubbed and seared to a bright pink, and she stood there, wiggling her toes on the bathmat and daubing herself dry while the steam tried to escape. Soon she discovered that the ridiculous heat was causing her to sweat, defeating the whole purpose of the shower, so she quickly wrapped the towel around her midsection, leaving her chest bare, and cracked the door.

A quick peek outside revealed no-one, so she pulled the door open all the way. The cloud of steam filled the hallway as she scampered from the bathroom to the spare bedroom she had forsaken the night before. She let the towel drop, her skin dimpling at the sudden rush of cool air on her skin. She giggled again, looking down at herself, watching the beads of water and sweat drip off of her. Her toes wiggled on the carpet now, and she couldn't resist a girlish little hop. She was going to enjoy this new life if it killed her. Or gave her pneumonia.

She looked around the room for the first time. It was spare... bed, dresser half-filled with a woman's clothes, draped over the window, closet empty except for a few boxes. Definitely a spare room. She rifled through the dresser, trying not to be disrespectful, and found some clothes that fit. She ended up wearing a white t-shirt with an amusement park logo on the front and a black skirt. She even managed to find a pair of panties that fit her, although no bra. Whoever had been here before either didn't wear bras, or had them all thrown out. Both options were curious.

Making sure she looked decent in the bathroom mirror, she headed downstairs to the sight of Connor, still asleep on the couch. She chuckled to herself. It was inexplicably cute to see him just laying there, helpless. She decided to treat him as well as she could manage. The kitchen was a mess, no doubt organized in such a way that he knew where everything was, but it was quite some time before she could even get the coffee machine dripping.

Connor awoke to the sound of metal clattering to the floor, and the realization that Lunette was gone. He bounded to his feet, arms held away from his body, ready for anything. It took a moment for it to register that Lunette was in his kitchen, staring at him, startled and a little afraid. Around her feet were some scattered spoons, and he lowered his arms with a chuckle. She smiled too, sheepishly, and bent to pick them up.

"Sorry, I did not mean to wake you up," she said, bringing the spoons to the small wooden table, upon which already sat bowls, two boxes of cereal, and empty coffee mugs. "Also, it's very difficult to make you bacon and eggs if you don't have bacon, or eggs. Or just about any food. Mon dieu, do you ever go grocery shopping? all you have is cereal and pizza."

"I like cereal and pizza," he said, heading towards the coffee pot. Lunette tried to shoo him away, but when it didn't work, she resorted to gently slapping his arms as he reached for the decanter.

"Stop it! Stop! I am serving you breakfast, and you will accept it, or I shall pour la coffee in your lap. Sit!"

Taken aback and amused, he returned to his seat as she poured the coffee and placed a carton of milk on the table.

"Really, I'm surprised you even have milk. I imagined you eating your Rice Krispies in beer."

"It's good, don't knock it."

They ate their cereal and sipped their coffee in silence, occaisionally exchanging shy, amused glances. It was Lunette who broke the silence.

"That was the first time I've ever slept with a guy."

Connor coughed hard, cerealbouncing off of his fist as he tried to get it under control. Lunette laughed, tilting back her head as Connor changed color. After a minute, his coughs had become rueful chuckles, and his blushing faded. "Well, for a certain definition of slept..."

"I like that definition," she said, staring into his eyes. "It's... nicer. Sometimes."

"Sometimes..."

Lunette reached accross the table, and grabbed his empty bowl. "You stay sitting, monsieur, I will handle zese. And by handle, I mean I'll put them in the sink and let you wash them later." She stood up, a bowl in each hand, and started to walk to the sink when she felt a strangle sliding sensation on her legs. She stopped, stock still, looking down in horror as the black skirt, which was meant for a much hipper girl than herself, slid to the ground. Her stomach lurched, and the bowls in her hands began to quiver, the spoons rattling.

Behind her, Connor started laughing again. "Wow, you are a slim girl, aren't you?" he said, before realizing that she was shaking. His laugher died immediately. "Whats wrong?"

The bowls still rattling, she carefully placed them on the counter, and smoothed her hands against her sides. "You know," she said, "I knew last night that I would have to share this with you sometime. I just didn't know it was going to be so soon."

"Share what?"

"Please, please just... don't be mad," she said, her voice faint. Slowly, she turned around, revealing eyes already rimmed with tears, a mouth that was quavering, and the front of her now skirtless body. While it was true that she had found a pair of white panties that fit, this was only because they were several sized larger than a girl of her stature would normally wear. Eyes downcast, she turned around completely, revealing her smooth thighs, and white undies that were filled much more substantially up front than she liked to let on.

Connor's wide eyes fell on her cotton-clad package, and his breathing stopped, too. Lunette was frozen, perfectly still... this was the second time she had ever revealed herself to a man before he knew what she could do, and she could only think of how badly it had gone the first time with a man who seemed to be so good for her. She was not unusually large, if you ignore the fact that she was female. As far as she knew, she was roughly the same size as a regular adult male, but on her frame, with her slender legs, there was quite a bit of projection when the complete set was forced to snuggle into a pair of women's underwear.

After a moment, Connor looked up at her, a strange look in his eyes. "Are you reading my mind?"

She looked at him quizzically. "No, I... this... this is me. I was born this way. I can be what a man wants... or a woman wants. Or anyone wants. I'm not really one, or the other... I guess I'm both. Your mind?"

Connor nodded slowly, looking her up and down. He stood up, walked over to her, and careful to keep himself to her side, knelt down and pulled the skirt back up, reaffixing it around her hips. "You should sit down," he said gently, guiding her back to the table.

Lunette wasn't sure what was going on. He wasn't angry. He wasn't annoyed. He wasn't even really surprised. He was.... curious. She swallowed... what in the world did this mean? Who WAS he?

He sat down opposite her, and took a moment to compose himself. "I guess you're wondering where the clothes you're wearing came from." He took a deep breath, and launched into a story he had never told anyone.

"Her name was Kila," he began.

The Spiral Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Connor and Lunette walked the rest of the way to the house slowly, in silence. The moon illuminated the trees, and she saw just how secluded the house was. She could barely see the road from here, and she had no idea how far she'd have to go in any other direction before she found civilization. It was certainly private, and a chill ran through her. He could do anything to her out here, and no-one would ever hear it.

She shook her head, raven tresses flying. No, not him. She looked up at him. He just saved her from certain beatings, and probably a drugged trip to the 'family doctor', and wanted nothing in return. He would not harm her. He could, most certainly... she doubted her entire body was as strong as one of his hands.

"Thank you," she murmured as they climbed the wooden steps to the front door. "I know I said it already, but... but I don't know what else to do." Her voice hitched a little at the end, and they sighed in unison. Connor unlocked the door, flicked on a light in a small entryway, and beckoned for her to follow.

"Zis is nice," she said softly, looking around, and thankfully stepping out of her high heels. She hated heels, but it was also a mandatory part of her nightly getup. She had too long lived in various secured apartments which were little more than glorified prison cells with cable TV, and to be in an actual house again was something of a nostalgic shock. She thought the house seemed much too large for one man, but she didn't know him. Maybe he liked all this space.

Tugging her dress down and trying vainly to pull the bodice up, she followed him up another half-flight of stairs to a spacious living room which had full-height windows along one wall. All she could see out the windows now was the moonlit sky and a black ocean of trees spreading out like a carpet, butting up against the hills in the distance. It might have been a commonplace view for most people, but it took her breath away.

She didn't notice him leave the room, and she didn't notice him return until he cleared his throat. She gasped and spun around, and it took a few seconds for her bosom to stop jiggling. She blushed self-consciously, then realized he was standing there with a small stack of clothes.

"I, uh, have a few things that might fit you. It's not much, but it's probably a little more appropriate." His eyes stayed locked on hers, and she had to admire his restraint for not glancing at her cleavage once. She smiled, a genuine smile, and walked over, taking the little stack of neatly folded and pressed clothes from him.

"For the seventeenth time tonight, thank you," she said, staring up at him with her huge, dark eyes. Her real eyes weren't so impressively doe-like, so she wanted to get as much use out of these as she could. She glanced down at what she held, which appeared to be a simple white blouse and a pair of women's blue jeans. So, she thought, he has a woman's clothes within easy reach. Was he married? Divorced? Separated? Girlfriend? She wanted to know the answers, but she knew that she had to get him asleep so she could sneak out. By morning, she would be a distant memory.

"Thank you, m'sier Connor," she said. Anglo men seemed to love it when she called them monsieur. The emotional rollercoaster she'd been on all night finally seemed to crest. Clutching new clothes, it was like being on the verge of a new life, a whole new existence. She began to dare to hope that maybe she could finally outrun the family, and get out on her own. Be in charge of her own life.

Still smiling like a fool, she quickly skipped off, heading for the half-flight of stairs that led upstairs. "Uhm, I can change up here?" she asked, pausing halfway up.

He nodded. "Yeah, there's a spare bedroom up there you can use. Bathroom's halfway down the hall. Would you like a drink? Non-alcoholic, I mean."

She thought for a second. "Do you have juice?" Connor nodded, and Lunette fairly danced the rest of the way up the stairs. There were three doors... one was an illuminated bedroom that was almost completely empty. Guest bedroom, she knew. The second was a definite man's bathroom, with nothing cluttering the counters, and a black shower curtain. The third door was closed, and she didn't need a map to tell that he didnt want her in there. Yet.

There were a few problems with getting dressed. For one, her bottom was considerably plumper than whoever had formerly worn these pants, but she managed to wriggle her way into them and get them properly zipped and buttoned. The blouse was slightly more difficult, since the previous owner was probably normally proportioned, whereas Lunette was somewhere in the H cup range, if she was any judge. She exhaled and managed to get the buttons done up, but when she resumed breathing, she could feel the fabric drawing into tight little lines across her back. She glanced down, and sure enough, there were gaps between the buttons at her bustline, but it couldn't be helped. Besides, it might even help her out.

She walked slowly back down, feeling strange on normal clothes, and saw Connor sitting on the couch, holding a beer in one hand. There was a glass of orange juice on the coffee table, and her heart skipped a beat. She slowed as she neared the couch, unable to prevent a little sashay from entering her stride. She liked, she genuinely felt attracted to this man, despite the complete lack of reciprocation... it was the perfect opposite to every other relationship she'd ever experienced. It was very disorienting.

She sat at the opposite end of the couch, and reached down to get ger drink. She feared she might blow a button off of her shirt, but it held, and she sat back up, smiling when she sipped it. "Merci, monsier," she said with a little smile. "They... they don't give me what I ask for very often." A thought struck her, and she tilted her head pensively. "Also, I don't know if Connor is your first name, or your last. I'm sorry, but... it never occurred to me until now."

He chuckled. "First name. Connor Dale Flannery, at your service, milady," he responded, before sipping his beer. "I hope you don't mind, but my drink was interrupted at the bar tonight."

"Oui, I am sorry for that, really."

"Why did you pick me?"

The question struck her hard. How could she answer? Oh, yes, monsieur, I picked you because I have psychic powers and you looked like the best of a bad lot. Also, why don't you like my tits? No, she couldn't answer truthfully. The truth had never set her free. "I had not seen you before, and you didn't seem to be in the family..."

"Sal said my name, though."

She stopped, jaw open. "Mon dieu, he did! Do they know where you live?! Fuck me, I have to go, they could be coming here..."

He grabbed her wrist when she stood, and she was about to fight, but the open, faintly amused look on his face stopped her. "It's ok. Sal knows my name, that's it. They... the family, that is, they wanted to hire me for some stuff. I used to be in the army, you know, and the family, well, they like to get people with experience. I said no a few times, and I was going there tonight to say no a final time. But for all they know of me, they don't know where I live. This house is under a false name."

She sat, slowly. "False name...? Why would... who are you?"

Connor sat back a little bit. "I'm not really anyone special. I'm just someone who doesn't want to be bothered. Not by the army, not by the government, and certainly not by some out-state crime family with delusions of grandeur. But what I'm more interested in right now, miss Lunette, is who you are."

She blinked, and shook her head and chuckled. "Monsieur Flannery, you are a strange person. Zere is nothing terribly interesting about me. I am... well, they would say that I worked for the family, but I was just a passed-around fucktoy, used as an award for... for doing good." Her small mouth clenched a little bit more with every word, and by the end, she was practically seething. Her right eye twitched, and the ice cubes in her juice rattled. "Zey found me years ago, when they..."

Lunette stopped. She couldn't say that they found her when became what an underboss Wanted one night, on what she thought was just another date. "When they saw that there would be no-one to report me missing. I... I do not have any family in zis country, and I have not made many friends."

Connor made a point of glancing down her body once, quickly. "I find it hard to believe that no-one tried to be your friends."

She grimaced sourly. "That's not the sort of friend I mean."

With a chuckle, he said "I know what you mean, I was just... surprised that there would be no-one to miss you. You've spent a lot of... of effort, on your body, Miss Lunette." His face clouded, and he stopped as if he had said something wrong, but Lunette was actually prepared for this question.

"I assure you, monsieur, I didn't look like this when they found me," she said truthfully, and Connor's face hardened even further. They stared at eachother, and Lunette became frightened again. "What did I say?"

He put his beer down a touch too hard, and stood up. "Nothing. It's... trust me, it's nothing you said, or did. It's what... other people do. I'm sorry." he sighed, and looked at a wall clock. "I'm going to bed. You can have whatever you want in the kitchen, and the TV remote's on top of the set there. I just think I've had a bit too much excitement for one night. I'll see you in the morning."

She watched him go, unsure what to say, unable to say it even if she could think of something. Near the top of the stairs, he stopped, and spoke without turning. "I'm locking my door."

She nodded at his back, as he vanished down the hall. She heard his door close, and sure enough, there was a click. She was alone, in a strange house, in a stranger's clothes, holding a glass of orange juice. She didn't think she could take much more excitement for one night, and she definitely did not want to watch television. In fact, she found she rather enjoyed looking at the dormant television set... the one back at her cell was always on, always. Part of her wanted to get the remote, and just flick the set on and off, to prove she could.

Connor did not Want her, that was obvious. Something had been dug at, though, at the end. She'd caught glimpses... dark skin, big eyes. Someone he more than was physically attracted to. There was the violet, almost painful tinge of love to the brief glances inside his mind. She had recoiled almost immediately... she hated becoming an object of love. It hurt her, especially when whoever Wanted it realized it hurt them, too. No-one would ever love her, she knew. It simply wasn't possible.

She walked quietly, ghostlike, around the house. There were very few pictures. Some were of men in army fatigues, some where of women who bore a striking resemblance to Connor himself, so they were likely siblings. There were no pictures of a wife, or even a girlfriend. No-one with dark skin and big eyes, surely. The house was neat, the furniture functional, the kitchen tidy. This was barely more of a home than where she lived... it was merely a place to exist.

So what was he existing for?

She waited half an hour, refilled her juice, and wrote a brief note. She stuck it to the fridge with a magnet, and then quickly rifled through the closet until she found a coat that was much to small to fit Connor, but fit her just fine, as long as she didn't try to zip it up the front. It didn't matter... in a few hours, all her clothes would fit. She felt bad for stealing the clothes, and a pair of old sneakers she found that were too big, but still served if she tied them tightly. She hoped he would understand.

Trying to be as quiet as a churchmouse, she gently opened the front door, and with a final longing look, exited the house. She swore softly when she felt the first few raindrops on her face, but it was a light, gentle rain, and her jacket was sturdy. Too infrequently had she felt the rain on her skin, and she decided to enjoy it. She walked on the grass so as not to make any noise, and in a few minutes reached the end of the driveway, and stood on the shoulder of the unlit road. The moon caused the wet pavement to glow, and she could see back the way they had driven there were streetlights not too far away.

She looked at the house again, almost invisible in the trees, and started walking. She only had a couple hours left in this exotic body, and to help her get on her way, she needed to use it to it's fullest advantage.

----------------

Connor lay in the darkness, staring up at the dim shadows on the cieling. Well, tonight had gone about as good as he could have expected. What had started out as his final attempt to tell the mafia to go fuck themselves had turned into him saying it with his fists, almost wrecking up a protected bar, and maybe breaking the hand of an underboss. Oh, and kidnapping an already-kidnapped woman who was being kept as a private sexual favor, passed around God knows how many abusive men. Then he'd dressed her in Kila's old clothes, gotten mad and stormed off to bed, and was now laying in the dark, listening to her wander around his house, and eventually sneak out the front door in the rain.

He sighed. As good as he could have expected.

He swung his long legs out of bed, and padded to the window, peeking out through the blinds. Sure enough, there was Lunette, walking through the rain, wearing Kila's old coat and a pair of his old running shoes. She walked straight to the road, and he could just see her at the end of the driveway, turning, and heading back into town.

"Women," he said resignedly. He turned, and headed back to bed. Laying back on the wide, cool mattress, he laced his fingers behind his head and went back to staring at the ceiling. The sound of the rain got a little louder, echoing in his ears as he tried to think. He saved her, he offered her sanctuary for the night, and she still ran off. Sure, maybe she thought she was protecting him, since she'd been with the family for years, and he'd just gotten into one scrap and happened to come out on top. Or maybe she just didn't trust the kindness of strangers.

He looked out the opposite window, trying to put it out of his mind, but he knew it was an exercise in futility. She was good looking, sure... maybe not his type, but she couldn't help it. Who knows what she'd looked like before they'd gotten their hands on her. The sheet twisted in one hand, but he didn't notice over the sound of his teeth grinding. Who knows what they had done to her...

It was barely a minute later that he left the house, jacket and shoes flapping in the rain, heading for his car.

He started the car as quietly as he could, and purred down the driveway, checking left and right for any sign of her along the dark road. He flicked the headlights off so he could see the moonlit landscape better, but there was no sign of her, either way. She had most likely kept on the road towards down, he thought, and pulled onto the deserted highway, heading south.

Connor began to grow anxious, as he drove. It had to have been at least a mile, and still no sign of her. Either she had gone the other way, or she was in the woods, for some reason, or she had been picked up. He remembered how she had come on to him in the car, and realized that she had very few aversions to getting rides any way possible, and a body like hers would make anyone stop.

As the highway descended, the streetlights became more common, and the glow of the city could be seen quite easily, he caught a glimpse of a pair of tail-lights in the distance. "There you are," he said softly, applying pressure to the gas and feeling the car surge forward in response. They probably had a mile or two on him, and they were almost out of the hills, so whoever it was had been doing well over the limit, most likely at Lunette's urgings. She wanted to get as far away as possible, and if she was heading into town, there was only two options. Neither one looked good, from where he sat.

He sighed, replaying the night in his mind. Had he royally screwed up, sticking out his neck for that girl? The family might find them, that was always a possibility, and while he had no actual fear of that happening, he didn't want to get her into more trouble than she was already in. Maybe they could do with a change of scenery for a little bit, if he could track her down. It's not like he had anything else going on in his life.

He roared down the last hill, but the intersection was empty. He grunted and squeezed the steering wheel. "Crap," he said, realizing that he'd lost them. Here on the edge of town, there wasn't much traffic, but downtown the night life would be roaring right along. She wanted out of town, and he didn't think going to the Smokin' Barrel was a good idea just yet. It was barely three hours ago he'd busted up some mafia officers, and they were probably still annoyed.

"Bus station it is."

During the short drive to the Greyhound station, he was surprised to find himself getting more and more angry. He wasn't sure if he was angry at himself for interceding, or angry at her for running off, or angry at himself for scaring her off. This was all mixed in with the general rage he felt towards those who preyed on the weak, who destroyed their faith and trust, destroyed their capacity to hope.

Everyone on the sidewalk stared, startled, when he slammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop at the curb near the Greyhound lobby, He leapt out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. An elderly couple who had been just about to enter darted backwards out of the way when Connor approached, and he opened the doors with a little chagrin. He wondered if he looked as angry as he felt. Based on their reaction, probably.

The lobby was packed. Lots of busses left late at night to pull into their more western destinations first thing in the morning. He scanned around, the crowd parting to flow around him. Like all truly classy bus stations, there were the mandatory homeless sleeping curled up in the plastic chairs, there were the chainsmokers by the bathrooms looking to offload a misdemeanor's worth of drugs, and the bored janitors who were doing anything except actually clean.

He recalled Lunette's hair... dark, streaked with red, shiny and curly. Kila's old biker jacket. Big eyes with lots of makeup. She should be easy to see, even with the crowd and the height difference, but he couldn't place her hair anywhere. He sighed, and one hand clenched. He had guessed wrong.

He leaned back against one fake-marble column, and shook his head. She could already be on a bus, she could still be in that guy's car, she could be back at the bar. She could have gone the other way and he'd been wrong from the start. There were a million options. If she'd gotten lost in the hills, in the desert, in the mountains, he could track her, but in the city, he might as well be blind.

Connor turned to leave when he saw the familiar rubbed-leather sleeve of Kila's jacket. His head snapped up, and he saw the rest of it, unmistakably her jacket. The hair was different, the body was different, the height was different, but it was her jacket. Whoever it was was standing by the lockers, leaning against them, eyeing the clock and the departures schedule. He slowly walked towards her, trying not to arouse suspicion or knock anyone over. He needed answers, and whoever was wearing that jacket probably had some.

He stood behind the woman for a moment, and took a deep breath. "Excuse me, I was hoping you could help me."

The woman turned around. Straight, mousy brown hair framed a slender face with sad brown eyes. Every feature seemed petite and smooth. She looked like nothing more than a fresh-faced college girl, except for the fear that lept into her eyes. Connor raised his hands and tried to smile reassuringly. "Look, look, it's nothing, I was just wondering where you got the jacket from."

The looked around jerkily, end ended up pointing at the doors that led to the bus loading zone. Connor took a step back, hoping that she wasn't going to call the guards. Being approached by a large, angry man in a bus station probably wasn't what she expected for tonight. "Thank you," he said gently, turning to head for the doors.

After a few steps, he stopped. Slowly, slowly, he turned around, eyes once again settling on the girl who wore Kila's old jacket. Kila's old pants. Kila's old blouse, and Connor's unmistakable shoes. He blinked, and the girl tried to press herself back against the lockers. She was beyond frightened now... she seemed downright miserable. Her eyes slid down until she was simply staring at the floor tile she stood on, hands clasped in front of her, breathing shakily.

Connor took one tentative step forwards.

"Lunette?"

The girl looked up, the very picture of hopeless defeat, and with a moment's pause, nodded.