Title: The Game

Rating: M (for language, strong sexual situations, and violence)

Disclaimer: WAT is own by CBS/WB. I'm just borrowing the characters, especially Danny.

Note: The story takes place sometime after season three, but Elena doesn't exist. And definitely Danny/OC-centered, but all the characters and canon elements may pop up.


Nervously tapping her foot on the expensive Oriental rug, Lauren Palmer took a generous sip from her glass. The vodka was still ice cold from her freezer, just the way she liked it. Liking the way to first drink made her feel, she quickly drained the glass in one long gulp. Anxiously, she rose from the Corinthian leather sofa and made her way into the kitchen. She took the Grey Goose vodka from the freezer and filled the glass again. Closing her eyes, she tried to savor the next sip. Then, she heard a knock at the door, and her heart began to beat even faster. After taking a deep breath, she drained her second straight vodka in five minutes.

Her golden hair was up in a loose twist, so she nervously tucked some stray hair behind her ear as she walked to the door. Before opening the door, she tightened the sash of her long, black silk Ralph Lauren robe.

She opened the door, but didn't greet the visitor with words or a smile. She knew by the looks of him that he was who she'd been told to expect. She opened the wider to let him enter.

As he walked in, he frowned as he looked her up and down. "You're not what I was expecting," he said, not taking his eyes off of her.

"No?" she responded as she closed the door.

"Not at all. My guy told me that a dude set this up."

Lauren nodded. "That's right."

The attractive, well-built man looked around the spacious loft apartment. "So what gives?"

"Does it really matter who set it up?"

"I like to be prepared," the man answered. "I was expecting a guy. Had I known I'd be entertaining a chick, I would have prepared differently."

Rolling her eyes, she responded, "Don't worry. You're exactly what he wants. I'm not the one you have to prepare for."

"So there is a guy involved?" he asked curiously. His lips curved into a sly smile as he continued, "What? Will this be a threesome?"

Lauren sighed slightly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Not exactly," she answered cryptically.

The young man shook his head as he backed toward the door. "Look, I'm up for just about anything, but I like to know what's going on in advance. If this is some kind of role-playing thing, where a jealous husband pretends to catch us in the act…then I need to know, so I don't crack someone's skull later."

Lauren finally smiled. "You've got quite an imagination, but that's not what this is. It will just be us in the bedroom, but he'll be watching the whole time. He likes to watch. That's his thing. Before we go in there," she said, motioning toward the bedroom, "I'll tell you everything he wants you to do to me."

The young man smiled. "So he hired you, too?"

"He didn't hire me. He owns me."


If the situation had been different, Lauren would never be attracted to someone like this. He looked like an underwear model with rippled muscles and a strong jawline. Jesse--he'd told her his name when she could have cared less--was shorter than she preferred as well, but this wasn't about what she was attracted to. Lately, the men that came to the loft all looked different: some short, some tall, some white, some black or hispanic. The only stipulation was that it was a different man each time, and there were only so many male prostitutes in Manhattan.

When the game first started, the man made her pick up strangers in bars and clubs. But this became a problem because some of the strangers wanted more than a one-night stand. So then the man started arranging for the male prostitutes.

After she informed Jesse about the rules of the game, she led him into the bedroom. Once they entered the room, then Jesse would be in complete control. That's how the game worked.

Jesse walked towards her, and then stopped in front of her at the foot of the bed. He seemed unsure for a moment, so Lauren whispered, "You won't get paid unless you do this exactly how we discussed."

He nodded slightly and then cleared his throat. In a deeper, more commanding tone than she'd heard him use in the living room, he ordered, "Take off your robe."

Obediently, Lauren untied the robe and then let it fall off her shoulders to reveal a lacey black bra and panties.

"Now get on your knees, bitch," the young man said with as much callousness as he could muster.

Lauren dropped to her knees as Jesse took a seat on the edge of the bed.


At first, Jesse was hesitant to play the game the way it was supposed to be played – some of the men were hesitant at first. But then they would quickly realize this was one of their few opportunities to dominate someone completely. So Jesse eventually rose to the occasion and did just what Lauren had told him to do.

Two hours later, she was lying on her stomach with her hands cuffed to either side of the bedpost. Jesse was on top of her, finishing, with one hand squeezing her breast and the other pulling her hair. She could feel his sweat-slick skin against her back. She winced each time he'd grunt and ram himself deep inside of her. She didn't pretend to enjoy it. That wasn't part of the game. But she did let out a deep breath as he thrust one last time before collapsing in a heap on top of her.

At first, she feared that he'd passed out because he didn't move for at least two minutes. But finally, he pulled out of her. She listened as he stalked into the bathroom to remove the condom.

When Jesse returned to the room, he asked, "We done?"

Lauren just nodded, keeping her head on the pillow so he wouldn't see the tear falling down her cheek.

The young man then walked over to the bedside table. "Where are the keys?" he asked, referring to the cuffs that were still restraining her wrists.

"Just get dressed and get out. Your money is on the table by the front door."

She heard Jesse stifle an uncomfortable laugh. "You sure?"

"I said, get out. Now."

"Fine. Whatever. That was the easiest grand I've ever made," he said as he gathered his clothes and headed for the door.

Minutes later, Lauren heard the front door open and close. Seconds after that, the door that doubled as a two-way mirror opened.

She heard the ice in his glass clink before she actually heard him. And then she felt the bed dip as he sat down next to her.

"I have to find a better source. They fags they send don't know how to fuck worth a damn."

Lauren stopped herself from saying something flippant. She just wanted the night to be over, and if she angered him, then he'd want to stay and teach her a lesson.

"I could go back to the clubs," she finally responded.

"Maybe," he said as he took another drink from his glass of scotch.

Lauren shifted slightly, hoping that he'd uncuff her. But instead he just sat there, finishing his drink. Finally, he opened the nightstand drawer and took out a small key. Leaning over her, he uncuffed one hand, and then tossed the key on the bed as he got up.

"I'll be in DC for a couple of weeks. But I'll be back at the end of the month. There's a work function I'd like for you to attend."

"Should I bring someone?" Lauren asked as she clutched the key in her free hand, but made no move to unlock the other cuff.

"No. Come alone. I'll send you the dress I want you to wear, along with other instructions next week."

And then Lauren heard him leave the room. She heard him put his glass on the kitchen counter, and then he opened the front door and closed it. As soon as the door closed, Lauren took the key and unlocked the cuff. Rubbing her tender wrists, she rolled over and sat up in the bed.

A year ago, she would have spent the rest of the night crying and trying to figure a way out. But now, she was just resigned to her fate. Slowly, painfully, she rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. She took a moment to survey her body. There were bruises on her wrists, her breasts, her back, her neck and her thighs, but no cuts or anything else that required first aid or a visit to her doctor -- this time.

Turning toward the shower, she bent down and turned the water on as hot as she could get it. She spent the next hour washing the night's events off of her.


Two Weeks Later

As Danny Taylor walked into the ballroom, he heard someone let out a whistle. Turning around, he spotted Samantha at the bar. Opening his arms as he walked towards her, he smiled widely.

"Well, Taylor, I must say, you clean up very well," Samantha said as he finally reached her.

"What can I say? Tuxes really suit me," he responded, smug smile firmly in place. "And might I say, you're looking pretty hot tonight as well."

Samantha laughed as she looked down at her black cocktail dress. It was simple and elegant. "Thanks. I felt like I was getting ready for the prom without a date."

"I'll be your date," he said as he slid his arm around her shoulder and gave her a supportive squeeze.

"You came alone?" she asked, voice full of shock.

"I'm not going to waste a date on this thing. I'm here for one reason only. Viv is getting her service award. As soon as that's over, I say you and me go find a real party."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam responded. "What about Martin? Is he here yet?"

"Not yet. He mentioned something about coming with a friend of his family's. I think it's a set-up job by his mother."

"That should be interesting. What about Jack? Is he coming?" she asked, voice full of curiousity.

"Negative. He had to go to Chicago for Kate's ballet recital. Viv gave him a pass. Lucky bastard."

"Come on, Danny. It's not that bad. The food should be good. We are at the Ritz, you know."

"Strange, isn't it? I mean, where does the FBI find the money to finance a shindig like this when we can't even get a decent raise each year."

"I heard it was privately funded. The Senate committee that overseas the FBI let a couple of lobbyists with links to deep pockets pull out all the stops. They give out the FBI service awards so that it looks official, but actually it's just a guise for politicians to mingle with their party benefactors."

"Sounds suspicious to me. Good thing we have a few years before we have to come back for our service awards."

"Well the evening could get a whole lot better if I could get the bartender's attention," Samantha said as she nodded toward the female bartender who was busy entertaining a couple of political types at the end of the bar.

"Allow me," Danny said. "Dirty martini, right?"

"What else?" Sam responded as she watched Danny walk down to where the bartender was. Instantly, Danny got her attention. The bartender smiled sweetly as she made him a martini and a club soda.

After getting their drinks, Danny thanked the bartender and then turned abruptly, running directly into an attractive young women.

"Sorry," he said as he tried to hold the drinks away from her so they wouldn't spill. "I didn't get you, did I?"

The young woman looked down at her red dress. And then she looked up to find him still inspecting said dress and much more. "I'm fine. Thanks," she responded coolly as she moved to his other side and walked away.

Danny's head turned slightly to watch her walk down to the end of the bar. As he reached Samantha, he finally tore his eyes away from her.

"Looks like I'm losing my date before the night even starts," Sam joked as she took her drink.

Danny smiled at her reassuringly. "No way. It's you and me, kid. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the scenery. She definitely doesn't look like one of us."

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked as she gently punched his arm.

"Would you relax? I just meant that even someone as hot as you wouldn't wear a dress like that at a work function. Am I right?"

"You're right about that," Sam responded as she took a closer look at the woman. She was dressed in a long, red clingy dress that showed impressive cleavage along with a slit up the side. Her hair was drawn up whimsically. "She's probably some aging Senator's second wife."

"Or his mistress," Danny piped in.

Samantha just smiled and shook her head.

"Hey guys," Martin said as he walked up to the bar. "Sam, you look beautiful tonight," he said as he stood next to her.

"Thank you. See Danny…that's how you compliment a women."

Danny's eyes widened in mock frustration. "I complimented you like two minutes ago. I said you were hot. What more do you want?"

Martin laughed. "Clearly, I'm going to be left out of all the fun tonight."

"Why's that? You can hang with us," Danny replied.

"I wish. My parents are here. And I came with a family friend from D.C.," he said as he pointed to a table about 100 feet away.

"She's pretty," Samantha said as she looked back at Martin.

"She's very sweet, actually, and a very good sport to come to something like this."

"Well Sam and I won't be here too long. We have an escape planned," Danny said.

"Yeah…an escape plan, unless of course, Danny can find a way to make the acquaintance of the woman in the red dress," Samantha said as she looked down the bar.

"Who is she?" Martin asked, obviously taken by the stunning woman.

"No idea. But I'm betting she's already spoken for," Danny answered.

"Well, if Danny does disappear on you, you're more than welcome to join us," Martin said as he start to back away.

"That's me. Destined to be a third wheel," Samantha said in a joking voice.

"See you guys later," Martin said as he turned and walked back to his table.

"He's being a good sport tonight," Samantha said as they watched him approach his parents.

"What? Spending an evening with Victor Fitzgerald doesn't sound like a good time to you? Times like these I can appreciate having very few family obligations."

"Here. Here," Samantha responded as she clinked her glass to Danny's.


An hour later, Danny made his way through the crowd. They'd just handed out the awards, so he'd gone over to congratulate Vivian. Now, he was in search of Samantha, so they could leave as planned. Finally he found her, sitting at one of the tables. She was talking animatedly to a man he'd never seen before.

When Samantha caught sight of Danny, her eyes widened as she stood up. "Hey, Danny. I want you to meet Greg Sims. We were in the same class at Quantico."

Greg stood up and shook Danny's hand. "Nice to meet you," Danny said with a smile. "Can I talk to you for minute?" he asked as he looked at Samantha.

"I'll…uh…I'll just get us another drink," Greg said as he started toward the bar. "Can I get you anything, Danny?"

"No thanks," Danny replied and then turned back to Samantha. "So are we out of here or what?"

Samantha smiled as her eyebrows raised. "I went on a few dates with Greg when we were at Quantico."

Rolling his eyes, Danny shook his head. "What is your deal with guys in law enforcement? You really need to think about casting a wider net, Sam."

Samantha blushed. "Shut up, Danny. The good news is that you're free to pursue the red dress or do whatever…"

"Are you sure you want reconnect with that guy? I'm really fine with us leaving now or even staying here with you."

"He's a good guy. I promise."

"You sure? How many martinis have you had tonight?" Danny asked, voice full of concern.

"Geeze…thanks, Dad. But I can handle myself."

Sighing, he shrugged. "All right. If you say so," he said as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You really do look beautiful tonight," he whispered.

"Thanks," she responded, blushing again. "See you Monday."

Danny walked away, even though it was against his better judgment. He just hoped that Sam wasn't staying because she was lonely and this Greg was giving her attention. But he had done the best he could to let her know that she had options, so he tried the best he could to leave the ballroom with a clear conscience.

Turning the corner to head toward the elevator, Danny caught sight of the woman in the red dress. She turned a corner directly in front of him. As she he approached the corner, he looked to his right. She had stepped out onto a balcony. Figuring he didn't have anything better to do, he decided to take a shot. At the very least, he could find out whether she was married, a mistress or, hope of hopes, single.

As he walked out on the balcony, he watched as the women took a long drag on a cigarette. She hugged her arms around her tightly because even though it was early spring – it was still very cold in Manhattan, especially on the thirtieth floor.

"You're going to catch your death out here," Danny said as he came up behind her.

Completely startled, the woman jumped as she turned to look at him and then looked around nervously. "I…um…I," she didn't finish. She just motioned to her cigarette.

"I could, um, I could loan my jacket until you finish," Danny said as he took off his tuxedo jacket.

"No. I couldn't…" she stammered.

"Please. It's not a big deal," he said as he slipped it on her shoulders. "Better?" he asked as she pulled the jacket closer to her.

She just nodded in response as she took another drag on her cigarette.

"My name's Danny," he volunteered when she didn't say anything.

When she still didn't respond, he said, "I'm the one who almost got you all wet earlier tonight."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he could have kicked himself. He closed his eyes in embarrassment as the woman started to laugh, a deep almost uncontrollable laugh.

"That came out wrong. I mean…"

"I know…I know what you mean," she finally said as she stopped laughing. "We ran into each other at the bar."

"Right. I'd remember that red dress anywhere, but I kind of question your logic. You're gonna freeze tonight."

"Wasn't my choice," she mumbled.

"What?" Danny asked, not sure he heard her correctly.

"Nothing," she replied as she stubbed her cigarette out and tossed it in the ashtray. "Listen, thanks for the coat," she said as she shrugged it from her shoulders. "I'm going to head back in now."

Danny nodded as he took his coat back, but then followed her into the hallway. "Hey," he said, touching her arm. "You…um…you didn't tell me your name."

"I know," she replied as she looked around the hall. "Thanks for the coat…and for the laugh," she added with a small smile as she continued down the hall.

"You're welcome," Danny called out from behind her as he continued on to the elevator.

Defeated, Danny found the nearest elevator and made his way down to the lobby. When he walked out of the building, he saw several limousines and cabs lined up and down the sidewalk.

"Would you like a cab, sir?" the porter asked him.

"No. No, thanks. I think I'll walk," Danny said as he took a deep breath of the crisp Manhattan air.

Danny walked a couple of blocks when he started to get a strange feeling. All of a sudden, he felt like he was being followed or watched. Slowly, he turned his head toward the street. Immediately, he noticed a limousine traveling at snail's pace. As he slowed down, the limo came to an almost complete stop.

Seconds later, the back window rolled down and the woman in the red dress appeared.

"I thought I'd lost you," she said as if she hadn't just blown him off ten minutes ago.

"Lost me? Back there it seemed like you weren't that interested in finding me," Danny responded.

The woman laughed again, like she had earlier. "Can I give you a ride?"

Frowning, Danny shook his head. "I, um, I'm not sure—"

"Just get in," she said as she opened the door.

Sighing heavily, Danny walked to the limo and slid inside.

The woman moved to the seat across from him so she was facing him. Her legs were crossed to reveal a good portion of her leg and thigh. She'd taken her hair down as well.

"Where to, ma'am?" the limo driver asked over the intercom.

"Do you have anywhere you need to be?" she asked Danny as she pressed the intercom button.

Frowning, Danny just shook his head as he continued to watch her.

"Let's drive through the park. Thanks, Charlie," she said and then let go of the intercom button.

"So why the sudden change of heart?" Danny asked as the car started to move.

The woman shrugged. "I was headed back to the party, and then I realized how completely bored I'd been all night. So I tried to catch up to you in the elevator, but just missed you. It's a good thing you decided to walk, or I never would have found you."

"It is a good thing," Danny responded.

"Can I make you a drink?" she asked as she lifted a tumbler of what appeared to be well-chilled vodka to her lips.

"No. Thanks."

"Let me know if you change you mind," she said as she took another sip. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Why not?" Danny replied, completely perplexed, yet amused by the encounter.

"Why did you leave your date at the Ritz?"

"Date?"

"The blonde in the black dress."

"Oh…." Danny responded. "She's not my date. She's my co-worker. We were just together because we both came solo. We were actually there to support one of our other co-workers who received one of the service awards."

"You're an FBI agent?" the woman asked. "That blonde is an FBI agent?"

"We come in all shapes and sizes," Danny replied with a curious smile.

"Wow…that's interesting. I never would have guessed."

"Now, it's my turn. Why were you at the party? You're definitely not an agent."

"You're right. I'm not."

"Then why suffer through the most boring party in town."

She hesitated for a moment as if deciding how much to divulge. Finally, she just shrugged and said, "I was…required to be there."

"Required?" he asked, becoming more perplexed by the minute.

"Mmm—hmm. I work for one of the…shall we say, "politicians", at the party. He wanted me there."

"What kind of work do you do for him?" Danny asked, his curiousity peaked.

The woman bit her lip. "I, um, I--"

"Did…did this politician have his wife there, too?"

The woman hesitated again and then shook her head. "Can we talk about something else?"

Danny nodded. He knew this woman was too secretive for him to really pursue her, but he was still interested in talking to her. "Sure, on one condition."

"What?" the woman asked with a worried look.

"Tell me your name," Danny said with a small smile.

The woman smiled shyly as she ran a hand through her hair. "Lauren…my name is Lauren."

End Note: This is my first WAT fanfic, and it's really dark. So I know it's not for everyone. But thanks for reading and reviewing, if you want.