Based on the fringe episode "august" season 2, episode 8. One may wish to watch the episode again if one has forgotten the plot.

In my version, august still kidnaps Christine in order to save her from the doomed airplane flight. the assassin Donald long does find them at the motel, but august is able to neutralize him, and he plans an escape with Christine to outrun the assassin or any others in an effort to protect her and save her from death. He plans to discover the reason he sees she has a future during the time on the run. So, it is an alternate ending to the original episode.

Chapter 2:

Cheap motels and hotels: the rooms were all alike for the most part. Rooms with two beds, one for him, one for her. august rarely used his bed for sleep. Just sat upon it, awake guarding christine while she slept. She noticed he did not sleep or at least slept very little in comparison to her kind, occasionally laying upon his bed, closing his eyes for an hour. While he spent the daytime out observing, she read, sketched, watched tv, paced, attempted exercise, wrote, listened to a radio, anything to occupy the hours of the day, so many to occupy while he went out into the world, one she could not venture into, longing to be outside in daylight. They traveled by night. The beds were mostly uncomforable, sometimes a coffee maker, sometimes enough hot water, constant moving from one to another town to town, pilfering as many items as possible. A blanket and pillow, towels, for which ever car they stole, loading up on free food at hotel buffets. he scouted the area for the best of the low cost options to conserve money. christine noticed that he moved them quickly. Whenever they had no motel for the night, he kept driving. She would sleep in the car, use the bathroom outside sometimes, eat their pilfered motel/hotel food.

Gyms: august walked into the gym, perfect timing, as usual, no one gave him a second glance. He assessed the members, saw a male with a duffle bag in tow, a man who was his height, weight, and shoe size. August followed the man to the changing room. August knew the man was about to receive a cellphone call-one that would prevent the man from a workout, knew that the duffle bag would go into the locker for another day's use. It unfolded as he had foreseen. The man spoke into the phone, animated tone of voice, and left the gym. august open the lock to the locker, easy enough since he had seen the combination, remove the clothes and change, and go about his workout.

Stolen cars: they kept a blanket, a pillow, some towels, gallon of water, plastic hotel cups, napkins, even toilet paper stuffed in a garbage bag for the stolen cars. She worried about stealing the cars, worried about her fingerprints, hair, all that forensic evidence they discussed on those true crime television shows-the evidence his kind could use to find her. She was unaware of his security measures. Each time he woul switch vehicles, he would follow his usual methodical method of car selection. Observe, follow the owner, timing, complicated intellectual process, then he would pinpoint the car for their next adventure. He would use the special spray on the exterior of the previous car to wipe it clean of their DNA, the DNA bomb device for the interior-the devices kept in his briefcase. At least the ingredients were of renewable and easily found sources. While she slept, he would make up a new batch. When she voiced her concern one time after watching a true crime show, he told her, "I will protect you; I will keep you safe."

Three weeks later: she finally asked, "can I get a few personal items from the store?" when she noticed the hint of red when she'd used the bathroom. "can I please go out to the mega mart? Someplace to buy personal items?" he considered her request, observed the urgency in her tone, body language. He had noticed a subtle shift in her mood for the past few days, her need to take some pain reliever for a headache, a slight gain in her abdomen. He was familiar with the female menstrual cycles-knew this was what she was experiencing. "I can get you what you need," he had the solution. she could not leave the motel; "it is not safe today," he stated and added, "I should get hair dye and scissors." "are you going to make me dye and cut my hair?!" she angered. "some items are very personal. I'd prefer to get them myself," she retorted shortly. "it is not safe today. You must remain here at the motel," he insited. "not safe today?"she yelled. "I will protect you. Tomorrow will be safe for you to go outdoors," he said. "tell me what you need from the store. Make a list for me," he said. "fine," she said as she scribbled her list: always maxi pads two sizes-thin regular with wings, overnight heavy maxi thin-how embarrassing. Deodorant powder fresh antiperperant/deoderant. She handed him her list. "what color hair dye?" christine asked him morosely. "Dark blonde-you should cut it shoulder length," he answered and left abruptly. She sank onto the bed, dejected, her hair, felt furious with him. sad to lose one more piece of her self. "he wants to protect me, I am important, unique, special-he says that I am," she cried still. "he won't even let me go to a store. Why can't they leave me be. I've never done anything wrong, criminal in my life, just a few white lies, impure thoughts, why did this have to happen to me?" she wailed. Her eyes were still puffy, nose red, tear streaking her face when he returned and set the bag on the dresser. Yet she was composed. "put on that brave face," she told herself.

Hair dye: she had never used hair dye on her chestnut brown hair, that fell to the middle of her back. She'd had it trimmed by her favorite beautician. "He's chosen dark blonde?" she mused in the bathroom. "what is it with men and blondes? Wait, what type of male is he? One unlike any I've ever met. he's logical, very literal, I have to explain jokes, and double-meanings or laugh it off without explaining. He looks at me with a somewhat puzzled expression and tilted head," she thought. She looked one last time in the mirror at her current self. "get ready world, here comes the new me!" she said as the scissors chopped through her hair. the cutting sound offended her ears, and clumps and tendrils fell to the floor, the sink, the countertop, uneven, chopped to shoulder length as required. "hhhhooowheee!" she breathed, exhaled as she looked at her new self. "not too bad, the length looks good, actually good on me. Wow! How did he know?" she sat upon the toilet to read the hair dye instructions. She began coughing from the smells and had to open the door to the bathroom. To her observation by his reflection in the mirror, he appeared to be nervous, pacing from one side of the room to another "how much longer?" she called out to him. "one minute," he responded. "it is time" he said at the door-stopping long enough to notice the length, the changing color-he averted his eyes and abruptly walked to the far side of the room. "guilt?" she wondered. It was time to rinse-she decided to rinse it in the shower-bathe at the same time. She closed the bathroom door. She finally emerged clothed, hair in a towel, casually sat on her bed, scooted towards the middle, clicked on the TV remote control-she said nothing to him, trying to calm that tinge of anger she still felt towards him. She hoped and prayed it would subside. "it's just brown hair-it's blonde now, shoulder length-it's just hair, it'll grow. He's just thinking of my safety, and from what I can tell, I may be able to go outside, soon, disguised," she thought. *****

Sunshine: The sun peaked through the crevices of the dark heavy window drapes. She had fallen asleep apparently while watching television. apparently he had placed the blanket over her sleeping form. As usual he was awake, sitting at the little table. "good morning" he said. "morning," she responded. he noticed that she used a pleasant tone and smiled. Today, he had said she could go outside today. The thought of the sunshine on her skin made her smile. She felt excitement. But he looked at her intently. she stopped mid-stride to the bathroom. he stood, approached her, head titled the way he so often did, raised his hand, reached out to her hair, touched it, sifted the tendrils between his fingers. she could not tell what he thought or even felt, "if he can feel," she thought, and the word 'sunshine' suddenly appeared in her mind. He withdrew his hand. "this color and cut suit you. It will allow you to blend into the background. I observed many women in your age group, many with the dyed blonde hair with the brown roots, flat smooth, shoulder length," he said. "less noticeable to my kind or to your kind," they repeated at the same time. "How did he know what I was going to say?" she thought in amazement, remembering the day she met him, when they seemed to read each other's mind. "would you like to go out with me for breakfast?" he asked. "I noticed a diner near a park-I thought you might like both," he said. "absolutely! I'll be ready in five minutes!" she exclaimed happily.

***Daylight-not exactly a warm temperature, but it felt great after having to be indoors during the daytime. He had found her a coat-she had quit wondering how he acquired things-pilfering or found objects. "oh, this freedom! This sunshine!" christine exclaimed. "I want to spend the entire day outdoors-can we, please?" she pleaded. "certainly," august responded. They ate breakfast at the little diner-"the food even tastes better in daylight," she said. He carried his briefcase everywhere they went. so it did not seem odd to her for him to bring it to the park. They walked the park paths several times, walked all over the town, walked and walked. He showed her the best places from which to observe. She did not understand his rational for choosing those particular spots. "It has to be that advanced human intellect thing and keeping the bad guys at bay," she thought. And she could feel the sunshine, all that vitamin d, so good for her mental health, the walking for her physical health. Little things, like the sounds and sights of the birds, the people-the people-"are any of these people the ones who wanted to kill me." she asked as the thought flashed through her mind." no, you are safe today," he answered. That answer worried her because it implied that the other days up till today had been unsafe. "That depressing danger is going to ruin my present happiness," she said. "let's go back to the park. I want to see the happy, running smiling little children. And the ducks. I want to feed the ducks!" she exclaimed. they happened by a day old bread store, and bought a few loaves of it. He watched her delight with feeding the ducks and pigeons. He even joined her.

Card games: she taught him how to play several card games. She had found a few decks of cards at one hotel and stuck them into her purse. "do you have any ace of hearts?" he asked. She felt astonishment, she had just drawn the ace of hearts, handing over the card. "my turn, do you have any eights of diamonds?" "No-go fish," he said. She drew the joker and looked up to his face and saw a quick hint of an amused expression flicker across his face," draw again," he said. "august, we've been over this-you cannot do that weird mind-reading trick or whatever it is when we play card games. That's cheating!" she teased." are you like superman with x-ray vision? That's how you do this, like the scene in Superman in which he tells Lois the color of her underwear," Christine said. she thought she had the solution. "can you see the color of my underwear?" she asked. "white," august stated, hint of a smile. She almost fell for it. "of course he knows the color of my underwear, he bought them, seen them drying in the bathrooms. Duh," she said to herself.

Moods: she was never sure how he processed her comments or interpreted her moods. He had begun to ask her how she felt-"do you feel safe? you are smiling, do you feel happy? are those the right adjectives for your emotions? you are furrowing you eyebrows-are you angry?" she was patient with him. After all, she had agreed to teach him about her kind. It helped to pass the time, gave them something to discuss. She found herself explaining to him many of her emotions and feelings during the evening hours when he returned from his daylight observations. he listened and listened to her-asking questions, taking notes. He informed her of the progress he experienced with his detection of sweetness, as he bit into a chocolate bar. He wanted the word for the emotion he could experience while he at the chocolate bar when or if he felt emotions, which he guessed were emerging. "joy, delicious," she stated happily.

Halloween: Christine wanted to see the stars tonight, the moon. She needed to sleep some other place than a hotel or motel. She did not care if she slept in the car. She just wanted to be at one with the starry, starry sky. He found an uninhabited rutted road. "no one around for miles. We will be safe," he told her. She still did not understand how he could be so certain, but she would on occasion see him with the binocular looking device. and thus far, he had proven himself trustworthy. They gathered limbs and twigs for a fire, spread several blankets over a bed of pine straw she'd made. She grabbed the pillows from the car. "this evening will be nice," she thought. She could tell him some ghost stories in honor of Halloween. They spent the remaining daylight hours walking the area, he ttold her about the various trees they passed, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. He noticed the most minute details of everything-she shook her head and laughed it off as just typical him. She noticed that he gave her some distance, let her walk alone down the rutted road. She made her way back to him, ready to make a sketch. He sat upon a tree stump, she back upon the blanket. She covertly sketched him as he sat, perfect posture, hands folded in his lap. He looked serene. His crisp black suit, brilliant white shirt against the multitude of other colors of the setting sun. he looked like a person in an old black and white photograph with that fedora perched on his head. She used her colored pencils to heighten the contrast of his old-fashioned appearance in the rural scene, capturing the scenery in brilliant colors, while keeping him in black and white. She felt pleased with her drawing. They ate peanut butter banana sandwiches, granola bars and drank water. When the sun set, he built the fire. "I have a surprise for you," he announced. "really, what?!" she asked. He pulled from behind a pillow a bottle of fine wine along with a cork screw. "oh wow, I haven't had wine in so long. What type did you get?" Christine asked. "a fruity rose, your favorite," august answered. she reached to inspect it closer-just as her hands touched the bottle, it vanished, she blinked, unsure what had happened. Then she looked into his eyes, saw an amused expression disappear from his face. She saw his eyes look upwards, and there was the bottle, held in his hands, high above his head. She thought, " okay, two can play this game. Should I have taught him how to play keep-away?" she reached up, the bottle disappeared again, she looked into his eyes, and he moved them downwards towards his side. She reached over to it, her fingertips on the bottle, when it vanished again. She looked up and he held it high above his head again. This time she reached for his wrists and caught them in her hands. She was so close to him, perched on her knees before him. He looked up into her eyes, and held her stare. She felt warm, and vaguely thought he looked attractive. He let her have the bottle, and she gasped when she read the label, it was a vintage. "thank you," was all she could manage to say. "where, how?" she asked. he did not answer, just pulled the cork from the bottle and handed it to her. "wow, here I am in the middle of nowhere, on Halloween, on the run, with a man who surprises me all the time, drinking the most expensive wine I've ever tasted. Here's to us!" she raised the bottle to cheer them. "oh, this tastes wonderful!" she said with a smile.

***august told her about the place where the wine was made, how to taste the nuisances. He seemed to know a little about any subject. She lay back onto the pallet. "this pallet actually feels good. The temperature isn't too bad with this coat, that or the wine is already warming me," Christine said. "yes," he announced out of the blue just as she wondered whether he drank or not. "yes? What?" she asked. "yes, I will have a drink," he answered. "come and get it," she said. it was a short lived game of keep away as his movements were a flash compared to hers. "That super human advanced technology," she mused to herself. They passed the bottle back and forth, watching the moon rise in the starry sky. "who are you? Why am I important?" she queried-feeling very warm, very tipsy. After a few minutes, he began to speak of his origins, his purpose, telling her about the reasons for observing. She listened and listened as patient with him as he was of her. So much of what he said she just did not understand. "I do not understand why, just know that you are important to me. They want to correct my actions," he said simply in regards to her second question. She began to giggle and spoke, "I'm a, my life, is an error of existence. That's an appropriately scary story for a campfire on Halloween. If I weren't so damn tipsy, I'd probably cry!" she laughed harder. ***

they lay back onto the pallets, watched the sky again. "tell me more, tell me anything, tell me about yourself," she encouraged and pleaded with him. He told her a story about one of his latest observations. then he observed her relaxed posture, heavy lids. she was sleepy. christine heard him speak, but the words were not English. The words were spoken in a language unlike any she knew. She fell into a peaceful sleep.

Food: "you really don't need to bring me this much food," she told him one day when he brought in a huge meal from one nearby dine-in restaurants. Italian food, her favorite-again, how did he know? Inference from her desire to go to italy? She continued, "I barely exercise. I really just need one meal a day. In fact, when we stay in a room with a kitchenette, I could cook some healthier meals. It'd save us money,too." he realized she needed more physical activity, to be able to go with him more often on his observation excursions. He needed to get back to his Cambridge apartment, back to his money, his suits-but the thought of the space and time travel ramifications, the physical strain, let alone the complicating factor of avoiding his kind. "the right time must present itself," he said to himself.

thanksgiving: it was not a safe day for her he observed. They needed to travel today. He was aware of the holiday, and brought them turkey sandwiches from a convenient store. He said, "I have observed thanksgiving from across the centuries-turkey roast assignments, decoration shopping, wine consultation." "grocery shopping for thanksgiving?" she asked. "yes," he replied. "and all these facts you supply to your colleagues at future earth to help with intergalactic relationships?" she asked. "yes," he said. He told her about his thanksgiving observations, the reports generated. "as a result, thanksgiving is celebrated as a holiday among other civilizations in the galaxy," he said. "amazing!" she exclaimed. "the beings celebrate the founding of their nations, just as americans do. and no, there is absolutely no holiday shopping allowed. Businesses are closed. Employees receive holiday pay," he stated. They rode in a comfortable silence for a few miles. She glanced at him as they ate in the car. she observed him. Something about his attire looked different. Something was missing. "where is your watch? In fact why are you wearing that horrible belt? where is your usual one?" she asked as she took a sip of her cranberry juice. "I sold it, and my tie clip, my cuff links, my belt buckle at a pawn shop. We needed the money. They had value," he said. she wondered when this had happened. "I am thankful for your generosity-those pieces looked expensive. Thank you for keeping me safe," she said. "you are welcome. You are special," he answered.

.

Conversations: their conversations about a broad range of topics began when he brought her a magazine with a cover page with the painting "the starry night" by Vincent van Gogh. Thursday collected this magazine along with many others one day when he walked through a neighborhood on recycling day. That magazine was on the top of the pile in a bin at the curb. He read the article in that art magazine before he placed it and the others into his briefcase. He remembered when van Gogh had painted this work. His original observation report was in a notebook at his Atlanta apartment. He wanted to share his thoughts on the work with her and to hear her thoughts. When he arrived at the room, he stated, " I have magazines for you-there is an art magazine amongst them, I thought we could discuss the articles." she discovered that he could hold an intelligent conversation about art, art theory, the artists. He reminisced about the days van Gogh painted his famous piece. Thursday told her about van Gogh's stay in the mental health asylum in Arles. They discussed whether the famous painting had religious symbolism in the 11 stars or the cypress tree, whether the painting symbolized depression or hope, the song "Vincent" by Don Mclean that the painting inspired. In fact, his memories lead to other topics of conversations-the world events both present and past. He even shared some details about future earth. They found themselves holding more conversations during the evenings together.

Suit cleaning: the first time he cleaned his suit came with quite a surprise for her. He had only the one suit, while she had several changes of clothes that she laundered in the bathtub with the laundry soap he had bought. She had grown accustomed to this task, had to shrug off the modesty factor as she hung her undergarments over the shower curtain rod, ignore his, too. She had emerged from the bathroom after a shower, to find him sitting on his bed, stark naked holding his suit coat whipping it with a green cloth. "ohh ohh, modesty, modesty please, she grabbed a towel from the bathroom and threw it at him, looking the other direction." "what are you doing?" she asked when she saw what she thought was just a regular green towel. "laundry. My suit requires cleaning today." he said matter-of-factly, green towel in his hand, continued wiping. She had noticed his clothes were not as dirty or smelly like hers. "what? Some type of space age technologically advanced fabric and cleaner cloth?" "yes, and when I leave today for several days this week, I will retrieve a suit made of the same fabric for you along with my money. We will be more comfortable. We can go the mega mart for the food items you will need while I am away," he said as he kept polishing his suit coat, looking up at her when he heard her sharp intake of breath. "you're leaving me?! Today?" she asked in alarm. "yes, the opportunity to slip between space and time has presented itself. You will not be in danger here, while I am away," august stated. "can't I go with you?" she asked, suddenly feeling the walls of the room suffocating her, alone, completely alone, cooped up in a hotel room. "can't I go with you?" she asked again, in a pleading tone. "no, you cannot travel how I do or to when I shall go. It is a dangerous journey, even for me. One that will likely drain my energy since I am out of the medication that counteracts the long distance time and space travel. You must remain indoors while I am gone. I will place the 'do not disturb' sign on the door. Remember you will menstruate this week," he stated. she felt stunned. "I may go cuckoo here alone, indoors-this is not good for mental stability," she said and began to cry. "cuckoo?" he asked. "it's a slang expression for having a mental breakdown," she retorted. "this situation is difficult for you," he said. "you are unhappy and angry," he determined. He uncharacteristically gave her a brief hug. "yes, all those emotions. you're in the nude, telling me so calmly that you are preparing to leave me!" she answered. She cried a little longer, then calmed, brave face returning. "I'll be ready to go in five minutes," she said.

Contingency plan: not much of a plan at all. No vehicle, no gun, no nothing but instructions to stay indoors. He gave her $100 dollars "just in case". "just in case of what?! She yelled. "I may as well stand outside and yell for your friends and those assassins to come and get me. "Where am I going to go? How? Why do I even need the money?" she fumed. "angry, definitely angry and sarcastic,"he thought. "I must leave now," he said, and very oddly to her gave her a brief hug. "I will protect you, I will keep you safe. You are unique, you are important." "you keep telling me this. When will they realize it?" she yelled. christine wondered, "do I flee while he's away? No, the treat is real, I feel it. I know it. I saw the man laying on the ground back at that first motel, saw his gun laying on the ground."

Boston apartment: he slipped undetected into his boston apartment. "does this feel like home?" he asked himself. He'd heard her say "I miss my home," on several occasions. He thought it must. Many items were out of place, several photographs from his wall were missing, he knew that others had searched his apartment. "damn!" he cursed as he reached for the pill bottle that was set on his apartment bathroom sink-empty. He was out of his medication that counterbalanced the effects of teleportation. "no way to get a refill. They will know," he thought. now when he traveled back through space and time, back to Christine, he would have to let nature take its course on his body. No more time to investigate the changes here-back to business at hand. He retrieved one of his suits from his closet.

Now to the tailor.

Tailor: "I need this suit altered," he informed the tailor in the shop.

"certainly. . .stand over here." the tailor instructed. "this is not for me, it is for someone else," he replied and added when the tailor looked at him with a puzzled expression. "I know her measurements." his brief hug of her had given him all the information for the detailed list of measurements a tailor would require. His observation skills were than keen and exact. The tailor made the necessary list of all measurements required to alter his suit to fit her. "be back in three days" the tailor instructed.

Stepping through space and time: august traveled through space and time to 1849 san francisco Gold rush. He retrieved his gold nuggets from his safe deposit box at the bank, took them to modern san francisco and sold them for cash at the pawn shop. ***

He traveled through space and time to 1970 to the wells fargo bank in new york city. He retrieved his gemstones, the ruby, diamond, emerald, saphire, the opal, the pearl from his safe deposit box. He took those to the jeweler to sell. ***

He traveled through space and time to 2156 planet aberlean-the closest new English pronunciation-to the tribe of jusepim-the quadrapeds with opposable thumb like digits on each large paw, with the orange scales, and eyes on the ends of two antennae. The jusepim collected old earth artifacts. He traded his ballpoint pen for one of their meteorites, the ones with the sheezet and stalum, highly prized elements across the galaxy. He knew where on earth in Christine's time he could sell it as a newly discovered meteorite. ***

He stepped through space and time to 2310 onto the planet without a name, labeled X4728. It was a mixed being planet, humans along with a multitude of other beings, a planet with several large cities, agricultural and manufacturing based economy and a large space port. He went to the central financial institute where he underwent the dematerialization process for a molecular identity scan. He passed the security check and rematerialized in his account box, a small box. He retrieved his squaldron currency, which he could touch with the $1000 dollar bill from his wallet. The squaldron recognized and absorbed the properties of this bill and quadrupled the amount to $4000, monetary conversation complete. On earth in 2004 he took it to his bank in Omaha, nebraska and exchanged for smaller bills.

Lingerie shop: back in modern day boston on his way to retrieve the tailored suit, august passed by it at first, but then noticed a red garment in the window of the lingerie shop, thought about the streaks of red that were still apparent in Christine's hair despite the blonde dye. he entered the upscale lingerie boutique. He held his briefcase in one hand and examined items with the other hand, walking slowly, examining, observing. Multiple colors, fabrics, designs so many choices presented themselves. He continued to walk slowly from rack to rack, wondering where to find that red garment from the window, when a sales clerk noticed him as he appeared lost and bewildered. "hello, welcome!" the sale clerk said cheerfully, "may I help you?" "Yes, I need to purchase an item for someone who is unique, important to me," august said. "okay, I can certainly help you. We have a wide selection of the various designs and fabrics and sizes," she said as she gestured widely. She observed and gushed, "you haven't shopped for a woman before. I have rescued many men in your position. And rest assured, the men leave here smiling, with a smiling important person on the receiving end, and return here to make further purchases to make the unique person happy." "happy," Thursday repeated, "yes, I would like to make her feel happy. I will rely upon your judgment." "certainly, we can make her happy. Do you have anything special in mind?" the salesclerk asked. "she will be wearing a suit like mine from day to day," he offered. The sales clerk considered his statement, "okay follow me. she's a business person like yourself." the sales clerk led him to the silk underwear selection figuring that a business lady like so many of her female business clients, wanted to wear something feminine underneath the men's style suit. The sales clerk handed him a pair in green underwear and said, "this is a perfect cut for suit pants. what size is the important young lady?" "size?" he gave her that bewildered expression again, one she recognized, she would help him, "do you know her height and weight?" "yes, I know all her measurements," he said and proceeded to give her the measurements. she sales clerk stated, "size 8. my my, you are very observant, I wish all my clients could be the same." she gestured across the style selected. "which color would the young lady appreciate?" Thursday hesitated, he felt something-unsure? The sales clerk observed him. "how about one pair in each color, we have seven choices, seven days of the week. What do you think?" she asked. "yes, that is logical," he stated. she saw what she thought to be a look of relief cross his face. She thought to herself, "this upsale is going quite well. He isn't even looking at the price tag. I am going to make a wonderful commission." She carried the bundle to the cash register. "now lets look at the brassieres." she said. the sales clerk wanted to take advantage of this opportunity. She quickly walked to a different section. "I think this style would work. What color shirt will she be wearing?" the sales clerk asked. "white," he said. "okay, the nude and white color, then," she suggested. august responded, "yes, will this make her happy?" "oh yes, yes, it will," the sales clerk assured him. he still wondered where to find the red garment from the display window, but Christine's happiness had suddenly become the most important thing on his mind. They passed by the sock display as they made their way back to the cash register. "oh, she will need socks. These pairs will work well," she said as she picked up five pair and walked the bundles back to the cash register counter. "now, I recall that you said she'd wear the business suit the majority of the time, but what about when she's off work? Won't she need a lounge outfit? Or a night gown?" she asked. "I will trust your judgment" august said again to reassure her. The sales clerk said, "follow me then. what color hair and what of her skin tone?" "golden sunshine highlights, hazel eyes, olive skin" "let's try this outfit, here. Fun kitty cats," she said as they made their way back towards the cash register for the 4th time. a red slip of fabric again caught his attention. He reached out to feel it- the red garment from the window display! The reason he had entered the boutique. The sales clerk honed in on it-an expensive night gown had caught his fancy. "you appear to like this nightgown. Let's add it to your purchase. Your shopping is complete. Let's get you checked out," she said. she wanted to make the sale, get the commission.

****later that day, the sales clerk would remark to her coworker. "a business man very much in love with a young lady, came into the boutique, had never been inside a lingerie boutique, lost look on his face, no idea what to purchase, poor thing, well, actually not so poor, he never looked at the price tags, didn't even blink when I gave him the total. He spoiled her rotten. And I made a killing on the commission, " she said. the same upscale sales technique happened to Thursday at the shoe boutique where he bought christine the most expensive pair of black Italian leather loafers the store offered. The same happened when he entered the boutique to buy her two dress shirts.

Loneliness: Christine felt lonely, a stranger to herself, estranged from society, prisoner of sorts. She wondered"this must be a similar feeling to solitary confinement." she tried to think of the days alone as fun, but as it were, it was not fun at all. She watched tv, played the radio, passed the room in circle after circle, played solitaire, read the books, magazines, drew, wrote, cleaned the room, anything to pass the time, until he returned. One evening when she lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, tossing and turning, she looked at his empty bed. He often sat on his bed rather than under the covers, still dressed in his shirt and pants, keeping vigil over her during the night or he would sit in the chair. Thus, his lack of presence made her feel odd, unprotected in the empty quiet room. She decided to sleep in his bed-it could help her sleep. she pulled back the covers and snuggled underneath, head on the pillow. She felt something hard under the pillow and gasped when she pulled the object from underneath."it's his notebook!" she gasped and noticed unusual symbols on its cover, traced them with her finger tips. And image leapt into her mind, one of him looking at his reflection in a mirror. "whoooaaaa, strange" she traced the symbols again, and yet another image leapt into her mind, one of his suit being put onto a hanger in a closet, the fedora onto the shelf above. She traced her fingers over the last line of symbols and an image of her face appeared, then she heard a little click-the notebook opened. she gasped. On the first page were symbols intermixed with English words, phrases and sentences-she couldn't read the symbols and yet when she traced her fingers over them, a video formed in her mind, this one of a little girl whose red balloon floated up into the air. Followed by the English sentence," the little girl cried when the red balloon floated towards the sky. She feels sad." "it's his observations!" she exclaimed. She "read" another sentence that was written in his language: she changed her hair from brown to golden yellow. I believe she is experiencing anger towards me." she read observation after observation, several making her laugh. One worried her: I am experiencing pain at the base of my neck where my tech implant is." one encouraged her that he was indeed getting in touch with his five senses: "my sense of smell is increased along with my sense of taste." This was the first time she had concrete insight into the way his brain worked. How he interpreted the world without the emotions and feelings from his five senses, or at least limited ones or the budding of them: "when she laughed, I believe I experienced joy; she blushed when she noticed me sitting on the bed naked cleaning my suit." he wrote. As she read, she began to feel closer to him, though he was somewhere, some place in time and space . Finally she felt relaxed and drowsy, closed the notebook. "tonight, I will sleep in his bed."

Exhaustion: just when she began to wonder if hewould return on the 4th day, she thought she felt him nearing, she did not understand how, but she knew he was returning, then she heard a light tap on the hotel door. She opened the latch and the door to find him. He stumbled into the room, briefcase practically thrown onto the dresser, hat to the ground, packages dropped at the doorway, stumbling to the bed, looking at her into her eyes, a very quick smile and fell facedown onto the bed. She rushed to his side, alarmed "are you alright?" she asked. weakly he stated, "my energy. . . is drained…I will rest. . . Now." and he passed out cold. Hours passed as august continued to lay in the same position, hours passed to 24, then to 48, then he finally awakened. "welcome home," she sat beside him when she heard him stirring. She took his hand, "what do you need?" "water, please," he said. She brought him the cup and he drank it down. she brought him another cupful. "are you as hungry as you are thirsty? I can make you something to eat," she offered. "yes, thank you." he sounded more energized with each passing second." I must refresh myself in the bathroom," he stated as he rose from the bed. "those packages are for you. You will be able to join me outside on my observations now. you will be happy," he said, a hint of happiness in his tone.

Gifts: "the suit is made from one my other suits, special fabric, one that camouflages we observers from people," he said as she admired the fine fabric, standing in front of the mirror-the attire fit her perfectly. He stood a few feet from her. "I believe it will camouflage you, too, from the assassin when we are in public. Their eyes met, she saw the look on his face-a quick mixture of astonishment and happiness. She wondered if he realized he was feeling something. His generosity exceeded anything she'd ever experienced, freedom to rejoin society-"now you will be able to blend into the background as I do," he stated almost breathless. Again, she thought of Clark Kent with his ability to blend into society, hiding his super human powers until confronted by evil, just as august did. "the shoes are so comfortable," she said. "and more gifts-this is Christmas morning three days early!" she read the label on the package some boutique. She opened the package to find lingerie-and blushed, he observed. "oh, I feel so embarrassed by such an intimate gift!" she exclaimed. "you are not happy? You do not feel important? The sales clerk assured me that you'd feel happy and important. . , " his voice trailed off, head titled to the side. "oh, I am happy," she said as she pulled piece after piece from the package. "we will look like CIA, FBI, NSA agents," they said at the same time. She suddenly felt a strong connection to him. They looked into each other's eyes. She finally looked away." and less laundry in the bathtub!" she laughed to break the tension. He asked, "would you like to go out with me tonight to dinner? Afterwards I need to make some observations to assess out next move." "yes!" she exclaimed, feeling joyful to finally have more freedom.

First observation: that evening after dinner, as he promised he took her to the rooftop of a building. The quietly stood side by side, she tried to imagine what he saw through the binoculars, how he saw the world, what he wrote in his notebook. How did he make the logical decisions that were to save her life? She scanned the horizon, looked closer at the town, listening, watching the passing cars, the people bustling about in the evening. She noticed that he'd tilt his head on occasion. He gave her the binoculars, let her see the world from his vantage point. She could barely understand what it was that august explained of the way the binoculars helped him view the world. She tried, delighted that he had allowed her to see through his eyes. They stood there for several hours when he announced, "it is time to leave, return to the hotel. We will leave this town now." she wondered briefly if the villains were nearby-experienced a tingle of fear.

The first Christmas: "okay," she responded in a dejected nervous tone of voice, the feeling of fear creeping over her-he had announced that it was not a good day for her to be outdoors-that he was going to go alone to observe. After he left, She made attempts to distract herself from the noises from this particular motel , turning the volume of the television to high, reading a book, trying to finish a picture. But the fear kept pressing upon her mind. Suddenly she hear three men yell at one another. "I'm going to kill you muther-fucker-give me my money!" the argument turned into a physical fight as she heard one say, "come on, hit me again!" "stand up!" "I'll teach you to mess with me!" they were close, perhaps 2 doors down now. "where you got her hid?" "which room!?"she panicked when she heard those last two statements. She heard pounding on a nearby door. She ran to the bathroom, locked the door. Sounds of fists pounding upon their motel room door, then silence, complete silence, but she did not dare open that bathroom door. Then she heard a light knock on the motel door, she felt him outside. She left the bathroom and unlatched the motel room lock. She threw herself into august's arms, a feeling of relief washed over her. He spoke, "I was wrong to bring you here, wrong to leave you alone. We need to leave now. The police will be here soon." "what. . . . what happened. . .? " she stammered as she left his embrace. "gather up your things, I will tell you after we leave," he replied. Fleeing was a simple process, since they rarely unpacked and had so few possessions. As He ushered her towards the car, she noticed three bloody men on the ground. She thought, "are they dead?!" "no," he answered reading her thoughts." but they have been neutralized. We cannot be here when the police arrive. Too many questions, suspicions, " august said aloud.

****"what happened back there?" she asked when they hd driven a safe distance from the motel. "were they after me? after you?" she asked. "no, they were drug dealers, looking for a woman who matched your description. Had that one entered the room, he would have killed you instead," august stated matter-of-factly. "how, how did you know to return at that moment?" she asked. "it is difficult to explain. Your heart rate had escalated, your brain activated into the fight or flight mode. I could feel the signals from you," he explained. "can you read my mind?" she asked amazed yet again, feeling connected to him. "at times," he responded. "like Lois lane wonders about superman. . . ," Christine said as she began to sing the song "can you read my mind." she gazed out the window on this Christmas day. all the Christmas lights of the town whizzing past as they speed away from this city.

Desire: after he left the hotel room, she paced the room, but she didn't feel fear, just tense and the need to relax. And something else, that she hated to admit she felt, the budding of her desire-she had not felt this way in a long time, desire to relax, feel sexy, have a long warm bath, play the radio. She remembered that red night gown he had brought for her, that she had not worn, electing to wear the modest kittycat pajamas instead. She had not dared wear it-just kept it buried in the suitcase, a reminder of her femininity, lost to her, until now and that red night gown kept calling out to her desire. She decided to try on the night gown. It was a Shame to leave it in the suitcase. He would be gone for the day as usual. The silk felt good against her skin. She sighed and started to dance sensually, thinking about how nice it would feel to be dancing with a male, kissing and giggling, flirting. She skimed her hands over her body. "oh, this is what I need!" she said. she thought of max from the program 'dancing with the stars' and his brother Val, and mark, oh, and how muscular, tone, beautiful when they dance, and she pretended to dance with them, That they want her, love seeing her in the red night gown, that makes her look and feel sexy and desirable. Then, just when she thought about their bare chests and trim waistlines, an image of Augusts' broad shoulders leapt into her mind, his bare bottom all too quickly hidden by the hotel towel, the flex of his muscles as he wiped his suit clean. The dancers morphed into images of august dancing with her. August's hands touching her as she touched herself. To hear his voice whisper her name as they twined together in the dance moves. His eyes upon her, the red night gown. Suddenly, her logical self broke into the thoughts. " I should not be thinking of august in this way. Why, oh why, am I thinking of his in this way? Oh, this is wrong, Val, max, mark, Derek-come back to mind! Oh, I need to stop but I cannot. . . My body is so keyed up with desire. This feels too good," she thought as she lay upon the bed. "oh," she sighed, "this feels too good. I can't stop." august came back to her mind, his fedora perched on his head, those beautiful long fingers, the way he touched the small of her back when they walked together, his love of hot peppers, the tilt of his head when he thought, he felt so close, she felt sooo close. Suddenly, august appeared in the room, next to the bed, fedora falling onto the pillow beside her, as he pressed his forehead against hers. he noticed the red night gown, his hand reached for her hand. she thought she heard a moan from him as she moaned his name, arched upwards, waves of pleasure coursed through her body, desire, spasms of pleasure again. Finally, the sensations eased. august sat on the floor. in a comfortable silence, she listened to him breath, ragged, tried to slow her own.

Fireworks on new year's eve: It happened again-this time, a night later when she could not fall asleep, pretending to snooze, heard the fireworks at midnight, knew he likely knew she was awake as the hours passed. Christine's thoughts raced, romantic scenes danced before her closed eyes. "great, here I go again. Damn!" she thought, "think boring thoughts, multiplication, chopping wood." she willed her mind to focus on boring tasks. Thursday was mere feet from her, sitting guard as he always did, Silently watching over her in the dark. She glanced at the clock 1:00 am. She could endure this for the remainder of the night, until the next morning when he would leave her alone. She could decline any invitation to join him in his outing, anything to not be near him, she tried to gain control of her thoughts. "ugh," she sighed aloud. "is something troubling you?" he whispered. "yes, no, maybe," she stammered. "would you like to talk about it?" "it's really very personal," she said. " certainly," he responded. minutes passed. Her libido pressed. She turned on the lamp, sat up in the bed. She felt Surprised to hear herself confess her situation, "it's my libido, giving me a clear message." she saw a tinge of pink flush his checks, he quickly assessed the situation. "I will give you privacy…" he said, he had the logical solution. "no, I'll be fine. I'll count sheep or something to get me to sleep," she responded, still amazed to hear herself talking about this with out embarrassment on her part. He suddenly seemed bashful. He said quietly," I will be in the bathroom." he walked to the bathroom and closed the door. she sighed again, "does he know?, oh, that's right, he seems to read my mind. He's right there in the bathroom. libido, aren't you turned off?" after a few minutes, the answer, "no, damnit!" she continued to try her best to stifle her wandering thoughts.***

In the bathroom, august sat on the floor, planned to give her privacy, tried not hear her thoughts, distancing himself physically from her. as the minutes passed he noticed his heart rate increase, a change in his breathing pattern, various images began to penetrate his mind. he gripped the edge of the sink, this reminded him of the other day, except much stronger emotion-emotion, he felt an emotion. He glanced downwards, and there it was, erect, pressing against he trousers-an erection, his first. It seemed logical to explore this new state of being. He undressed, stared at himself in the mirror. He titled his head taking in the image of his body, but with an actual erection, He studied its length, width, the color, the shape, images swirled through his head- he had to grip the countertop to remain upright. Another wave shuddered through him, he closed his eyes tightly, hearing words whispered in his head, her thoughts again. A sheen of perspiration covered him. He felt weak, he needed to sit on the floor, a tingle in his technology implant, realized his primal brain had taken control over his thoughts and body. his right hand automatically gripped his penis- he stroked. "aaahhhh," he groaned. he stroked again, long strokes, his hips thrusting upwards towards his hand. The sensations rocked through his body, strongly. he ejaculated. ***

She thought she heard a groan from inside the bathroom. She called out to him, "august, august?" no answer. "is he sick?" she wondered with alarm. She got up and walked to the bathroom door, knocked. "august?" she called again. she turned the doorknob, unlocked, opened the door and there he sat, in the nude, chin resting on his chest, snoozing, "yes?" he said drowsily. "come on, let's get you to bed." she said as she helped him stand. She tucked him into his bed, under the covers for once seeing him sleep. she leaned over his still form and kissed his forehead, to see a hint of a smile on his face. "good night," she whispered.