by London Lampy
Jack doesn't try to stop me from going home, but neither does he encourage me to leave. However after I've drunk the tea that Tippit made I head out and catch a tram back to my part of the city.
The sun has just begun to set when I arrive at the flat, and after I've shooed Jinks along with his prize of a dead mouse off my doormat, not an easy thing to do, I unlock the door and go inside. Topher is nowhere in the main room, which serves as both a living and bedroom, and as I very much doubt he's in the kitchen either I go and knock on the bathroom door.
"You in there?" I ask.
"Are you in the bath?"
"Yes." This doesn't surprise me, it's his second favourite place after the bed. I think before he moved in the tub hadn't been filled more than a dozen times, it's quicker to shower, but Topher likes baths. Actually he likes being in water in general, I know he really misses swimming in the sea. He did try the public pool once but he didn't like it, he came home complaining that the water was too cold, the pool was too small, he didn't enjoy having to wear swimming trunks and the chlorine made his eyes sting. I let myself into the bathroom to find that he's pulled the laundry basket over to beside the bath and is using it as a table to balance a bottle of wine and a half full glass on, he also has a book in one hand. I wonder how long he's been in there for?
"Are you meant to be getting your stitches wet?" I ask as I spot four black vertical cotton lines in his upper arm. The wound really is quite small, it's the first time I've seen it since it was pouring with blood, it looks to be healing well.
"The doctor did not say I couldn't," he shrugs, folding over the corner of the page, closing his book and putting it on the laundry basket too.
"Did you ask him?"
"No," he grins. "But he did tell me to keep it clean."
I kneel down beside the bath to inspect his arm up close. He's slopped quite a lot of water on the floor and the knees of my trousers are instantly soaked. "It doesn't look too bad," I say, giving it a quick kiss. "Are you going back to work tomorrow?"
"Yes, I think I will be well enough."
"I think you will be too." I try not to laugh, but it comes out as a snigger.
"I was shot, it is not funny," he frowns at me.
"I know." It's only funny until I remember how easily it could have been so much worse.
"Do you want to get in?" Topher asks, flicking the surface of the water so it splashes me in the face a little.
He lets some of the water out while I undress. We learnt just how much of a flood two people in a full tub can cause back on Nightport. I'm about to climb in when Topher starts to giggle.
"What?" I say.
"You have teeth marks on your ass."
"Oh...yes." I put my hand down to where Jack bit me, I can't see it but it does feel a bit tender. "Jack did it."
"I did not think it would have been Vio."
"Eww," I very quickly try to clear that image from my mind.
The water is lukewarm, which tells me that he has been in here for some time, but in this hot weather it's quite nice. I sit down between his legs and lean my head back against his shoulder with a contented sigh. As the water settles I feel one of Topher's hands sliding under my tail, he touches my ass crack then puts a finger inside me.
"You had sex," he states.
"Yes," I nod,"I did."
"How was it?" He kisses my ear.
"What is Jack like in bed? I have only seen him pissed off, but he looks kind of intense."
"He is," I agree. "He's very...physical, you know?"
"Mmm." He still has a finger in me and is slowly moving it.
"You really know when you've been fucked by him, and he does have the biggest cock I've ever seen."
"Then it must be really big because you have seen a lot."
"Shut up." He's added a second finger and has pushed in deeply. I'm starting to get hard again and I can feel his erection poking me in the tail.
"Exactly how large is it?" he asks curiously.
"About this big." I use my hands to describe its dimensions.
"You are exaggerating."
"I'm not, it really is."
"Fuck, what does that feel like?"
"Big," I laugh. "It feels good."
He starts to wriggle and I'm not sure what he's doing until he enters me. "Topher!" I protest. "We can't do it here, we haven't got any lube."
"You are all stretched out from Jack's big cock, you won't even notice, and the water will do." He wraps an arm around my middle so that he can play with my shaft, and I turn my head to kiss him, slipping my tongue into his mouth. With his other hand he pinches my nipples until they harden and I move a little to give him some stimulation. I can't move too much or we'll flood the room, but then Topher never needs much. He moves his mouth away from mine to trail his tongue across my cheek and arm.
"Is he hairy?" he suddenly asks. "He is big, he looks like he might be hairy."
"No, not really." I move slightly too much and water slops over the top of the tub. "Just hair in the normal places."
"Chest?" he quizzes, stroking mine.
"A bit, not loads."
"I do not like hairy men."
"I know, you've told me." Personally I don't mind, so long as the hair stops somewhere.
"I like you, you are a very unhairy monkey, you do not even have stubble." He licks my cheek to make his point.
"You have stubble." I reach behind me to touch the area above his cock where he'd have hair if he didn't shave there. I thought the reason he did it was because Quint liked him smooth, but he hasn't stopped since moving to the city. I run my finger around the base of his cock then put it a little way inside me to tickle him, he makes a small moaning noise.
"You like that?" I ask.
"Yes." He's moving a bit more now, but it's not easy to fuck in a bath full of water and us. He takes his hand off my chest and puts it right down between my legs, massaging the area behind my balls with his fingers.
"Oh...that's good." I arch my back and push against him, turning my head to bite his shoulder which makes him moan again. Topher loves to be bitten, especially when he's close to coming, which he definitely is.
I grind my body against his, my finger still inside, still touching him. The noises he is making and what he's doing with his hand have brought me close to orgasm too and I want to use my body to bring him off.
"Oh gods...I'm coming," he pants, thrusting his hips upward.
I can hear a small tidal wave of water hitting the bathroom floor but I'm past caring as I'm about to reach climax too. My body tenses then I orgasm gushing into his hand and the water, for a few seconds I feel like I am the water and that every drop of me is filled with sexual pleasure. When I'm done I rest back against Topher's chest, closing my eyes with a contented sigh.
"Oh, fuck," he says, making me open my eyes again. "Look at how much water you got on the floor."
After we've mopped up the bathroom floor, although Topher's contribution was mostly to watch and point out the bits that I'd missed, we go and lie on the bed. It's not late but between Jack, Topher and last night I'm ready to sleep. Topher however having been at home and most likely in bed all day isn't, and wants to talk.
"When is Jack going home?" he asks as I curl my body around his.
"Day after tomorrow," I yawn.
"When is he coming back again?"
"Um...a few weeks, he doesn't know when he can get time off again yet."
"Is he going to stay at Vio's place next time too?"
"Yeah, she's given him an open invitation, unless you want to go and stay there instead?"
"Stay with Vio?" he sounds unimpressed. "No thank you, she would make me clean the place in return or something."
"I doubt that," I laugh. It would be quite interesting to see in a battle of wills between the two of them who would win, although Caddy and me would probably end up as civilian casualties of the battle.
"How is he, about me now?" Topher says this casually, but I know it's a serious question.
"I don't really know, he says he can deal with it but..." I tail off.
"But I'm worried about what a bit of distance is going to do. When he's not in the city any more and I'm not around is he going to second thoughts and decide that it's all too much trouble?" Topher moves closer to me and I put my arms and tail around him tightly.
"Do you think that will happen?"
"I don't know." I bury my face in his soft hair. "I mean, if I was him I can see how I might want to cut my losses, find someone who lives closer and whose life is less complicated. I wouldn't blame him if he did."
"But you would hate him for it."
"I wouldn't hate him, I'd..." My heart would be broken. "I'd be miserable, very miserable."
"I would hate him if it were me."
"You're not me."
"He had better not do that, I do not want a miserable monkey. You are a pain in the ass when you are miserable."
"Shut up and let me go to sleep," I say, kissing him on the back of the head.
"They do very good chocolate cake in here don't they?" Vio says, pouring herself another cup of tea from the pot.
"Mmm..." I agree, my mouth too full to form actual words. It's our second day of interviewing the audience members from Mrs Sampson's gala, and it's also the day that Jack has gone back home. I saw him off at the station after lunch and it all felt a bit strange. Neither of us said much about when he was coming back again and before he left he held me for a very long time, almost as if he thought it might be the final time. Thinking about that makes me want to cry and when I met up with Vio after I was kind of emotional so she took me out for cake to cheer me up; at least I think that's why we're in one of the cities most upmarket tearooms anyway. Whatever the reason the cake is really very good, it's dense and sticky and sweet.
Interviewing the audience is proving to be slow going. Most of them are mysteriously out when we call, or at least their maids tell us they're out anyway, but those who are happy to talk, talk. On and on about the people they know and all the latest gossip, but none of it has proved to be in the slightest bit helpful in finding out who took a shot at Sampson. The closest we've come is a woman who thought that one of the ushers might have done it because apparently his eyes were too close together, and according to her everyone knows that's a sure sign of dangerous criminal tendencies.
"You don't have to eat so fucking fast, no one's going to steal it," Vio says, looking at my plate.
"They might," I reply. "Our waitress's eyes were rather close together."
"Bunch of fucking idiots aren't they?" she grumbles, referring to our recent interviewees. "More money than sense most of them."
"How many more have we got to go?"
"Us? About a hundred, so long as Vin doesn't decide to dump more on us." We've split the job amongst the department, but it's still a huge task.
The only good thing is that for the time being Sampson has decided to employ a firm of private bodyguards, much to my relief. I don't want to spend my days trailing around after him worrying that someone's about to pull a gun on us.
"Would you like another piece?" Vio questions as I'm scraping up the last of the icing with my fork.
"Um..." I do, but it's not cheap and she's offered to pay. "No thanks."
"Are you sure? I can call the waitress back over if you want."
"Yeah, I'm sure..." I frown, why is she being so nice? It can't just be about Jack going. "Do you want something from me?"
"Can't I just take you out for afternoon cake without you getting suspicious?" she retorts.
"You've never taken me out for afternoon cake before. Come to think of it I don't think you've ever bought me cake before under any circumstances, or at any time of day."
"Alright," she sighs, "it's like this." I knew there was something. " I went to see Mrs Abbot yesterday."
"Who?" I frown.
"Mrs Abbot, Menna Abbot's mother, remember?" she rolls her pale eyes at me.
"Oh yes...her. How is she?"
"Still grief stricken, as you can imagine. She's off to stay with her sister in the countryside for a few days."
"Sounds like a good idea." I glance at one of the other tables, a waitress in a starched white apron and frilly cap is serving a pair of women with slabs of chocolate cake. Maybe I should get another slice. "A change of scene."
"Yeah, it'll do her good." Vio looks where I'm looking. "Exit, pay attention, this is important."
"What is?" I run my finger over my plate and lick it clean.
"What I want to ask you, listen carefully. Mrs Abbot is going to be out of her house until the end of next week so this is our chance to get in there and see what we can find. I know there's got to be something in the house that tells us what was going on in Menna's private life. Her mother hasn't touched her room; while I was over there I excused myself and had a quick look, but I couldn't do much more than see that all Menna's stuff was still as she must have left it the day she died."
"You want us to break in and search Menna's room?" I ask, hoping that I've got her meaning wrong.
"Yeah," she looks awkward, as awkward as I've ever seen Vio look. "Actually I want you to break in there. I'm no good at that kind of stuff, I can't climb for shit and I'd make far too much noise, but it's your speciality."
"And if I get caught?"
"You won't get caught, you never get caught, you're far too good." Now she's trying flattery.
"But if I did get caught? Sampson doesn't know we're still investigating this and if someone catches me breaking into the Abbot house I won't be doing it as part of my job. The company won't step in and get me out of trouble, I'll just be a regular burglar, I could go to prison."
"Not for your first offence," she shakes her head. "Not unless you've already got a record I don't know about."
"I don't, but I don't want to risk it either, sorry."
"Fine," she leans back in her chair with a sigh. "Don't do it then."
"I'm not going to." We stare at each other across the table. "Why are you so obsessed with this anyway?"
"Because Menna was a real person who died in a horrible way and no one else seems to care why. She deserves that someone cares enough to find out what really happened, even if all I discover is that she actually did kill herself and there's no mystery. I don't know about you but I don't want to live in a world where a young woman can be alive one minute and dead the next and no one gives a shit why it happened. If her death doesn't matter then why bother? We might as well just let all the fucking murderers and rapists out of gaol and have done with it. If one victim doesn't matter then why should another? That's why I'm so obsessed with it, because everyone should matter."
"Oh." I look down at my empty plate, she's right. If we ignore this then we're no better than Sampson trying to sweep it all under the carpet. "I'll do it, but it'll cost you another piece of cake."
"Done," she replies quickly, and before I can say anything else she's calling the waitress back over to our table.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. If the email address pastes with %40 in the middle, replace that with an @ sign.]