[5]
They made it through the rest of Sydney's classes without anyone raising suspicions as to who Michael was and why he was there.
And then came the best part of the day: after school, and Sydney wondered where was he expecting to spend the night?
Her father hadn't explained any of these details to her, rushing through their conversation the night before, but apparently he had explained them to Michael who didn't seem to be worrying about anything at the moment.
They jumped in their separate cars, Michael following closely behind Sydney all the way to the apartment she lived in, and pulled into the parking spot next to hers.
"So," an awkward silence encompassed them, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
His forehead wrinkled as he looked confused, "Tomorrow? What are you talking about?"
She looked equally confused at his confusion, "Tomorrow morning when you come back to follow me to school again, to watch over me for my dad."
He laughed, downright laughed, and she looked angry, she had been serious and he was treating it as a joke, "I don't think you understand Sydney."
"Understand what?" Sydney asked, a total look of confusion on her face.
"Sydney I have to stay with you," he told her.
"Stay with me as in stay at my apartment with me at night?" she questioned.
He nodded, "Your father said you have a guest bedroom I can stay in."
He wouldn't mention what else her father had said, something along the lines of, 'Keep your hands off my daughter or I'll make sure you can never use them again.'
Sydney smirked, and thought, 'Remind me to thank dad next time I talk to him -- which could be a while -- but really thank him.'
And she wasn't thinking that sarcastically.
"Fine," she sighed, and started walking away from their parked cars, "Come on, I'll show you where it is."
He followed her up, peering at his surrounding, trying to gauge where he was, possible escape routes, places where people could possibly hide, and just generally checking out the people who lived in the apartment complex with her.
The neighbors were giving her weird looks when she arrived at her floor, a man trailing a few feet behind her, but she didn't care what they thought, they would make assumptions no matter what she said.
She rifled through her bag, fishing through her lipstick cases, cell phone, pepper spray (something her father told her was a necessity), car keys, and compact after compact of make-up, before triumphantly finding the house keys.
Pushing the door open, she smiled at the sight of the environment she felt so comfortable in, and she led Michael in, murmuring, "Home sweet home."
He looked quickly, a small smile on his lips as he set a bag down, one that she hadn't even noticed he was carrying, "I'm going to have a little look around the apartment, make sure all the windows are locked, that there aren't any other ways in here, and then I want you to tell me all about the people who live around here, and everyone who works around here on a daily basis."
"Why?" she questioned, "What do they have to do with anything?"
's***!' he thought, 'Jack must not have told her about the pictures.'
"Well I guess your father left it up to me to tell you," Michael declared, "Apparently along with the threat your father received yesterday, there were pictures – of you. You in here, you walking through the halls of the building, through the lobby, across the parking lot, around campus, sitting in classes, out with your friends, at Francie's apartment and so on. So we're assuming that whoever is taking these pictures you've seen before, even if it is someone you've just passed in the hallway."
She nodded, "Would you like something to drink? I could make some coffee while you are looking stuff over."
"Coffee would be nice," he smiled, walking away from the living room, "I'm just going to look everything over and then I'll be back out here."
As he walked down the hallway, Sydney departed to the kitchen, using her hands to rub her arms, wondering when it had gotten so cold.
But she pushed the thought from her mind, feeling safe when Michael was there with her and went about making the coffee, leaving Michael to do the worrying as he saw fit.
The hallway was dark, and the hairs on the back of Michael's neck were on end, anticipating someone jumping out at him. No one did.
He reached the first bedroom and entered, pulling his gun out just in case and holding it out in front of him. He flipped the light switch on and looked around the tidy room, figuring it must be the guest bedroom. He looked under the bed, in the closet, behind the doors and curtains, basically anywhere someone could hide.
Still, he found nothing. So he gave up on his search of that room and went onto the next room -- the bathroom.
There weren't very many places someone could hide in there, namely the linen closet and the bathtub, which he found empty, but the smell of her shampoo and soap intoxicated him, and for a minute he was in a daze.
'I have to get out of here,' he thought, making his escape out into the hallway and breathing safely again, feeling his mind clear once again.
The last room in the hallway was obviously Sydney's, and he was a little worried to enter it, wondering what exactly he would encounter in there.
Breathing deeply, he bravely entered, raising his gun in front of him as he flipped on the light switch, and pointed the gun first left then right, but once again there was nothing there, so he lowered the gun. Still something was wrong, he felt it, he just didn't know what 'it' was.
Then he saw it: the curtain flapping and blowing with the light wind. Outside, was the balcony, but what bothered him the most was that there was a sliding glass door separating her bedroom and the balcony.
And the door was wide open.
Something Sydney obviously wouldn't leave open all day long.
He walked through the open door and out onto the balcony, and immediately he knew that someone had been in the house before they had gotten there.
And the person had escaped from the balcony before they could be caught.
He shut the door on his way back in, making sure everything was the way it was supposed to be. He didn't want to alarm Sydney too soon, first he would report it to Jack, and then see where he wanted him to take it.
With a straight face, he walked back down the hall, vowing to call Jack in the morning to report everything.
When he walked out into the kitchen he put on a smile and found Sydney sipping from a mug of coffee, immediately handing him his mug.
"Thanks," he replied.
She smiled, "I can cook us something for dinner if you want me to, I mean we do have to eat sometime."
"Nope, that's okay," he cheerfully exclaimed, "We're going out for dinner, my treat."
"Where to then?" she asked, grabbing her purse and following him to the door.
He grinned at her, "McDonald's of course."
And she grinned right along with him as they walked out the door.
TBC...
~*~*~
Please review!
They made it through the rest of Sydney's classes without anyone raising suspicions as to who Michael was and why he was there.
And then came the best part of the day: after school, and Sydney wondered where was he expecting to spend the night?
Her father hadn't explained any of these details to her, rushing through their conversation the night before, but apparently he had explained them to Michael who didn't seem to be worrying about anything at the moment.
They jumped in their separate cars, Michael following closely behind Sydney all the way to the apartment she lived in, and pulled into the parking spot next to hers.
"So," an awkward silence encompassed them, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
His forehead wrinkled as he looked confused, "Tomorrow? What are you talking about?"
She looked equally confused at his confusion, "Tomorrow morning when you come back to follow me to school again, to watch over me for my dad."
He laughed, downright laughed, and she looked angry, she had been serious and he was treating it as a joke, "I don't think you understand Sydney."
"Understand what?" Sydney asked, a total look of confusion on her face.
"Sydney I have to stay with you," he told her.
"Stay with me as in stay at my apartment with me at night?" she questioned.
He nodded, "Your father said you have a guest bedroom I can stay in."
He wouldn't mention what else her father had said, something along the lines of, 'Keep your hands off my daughter or I'll make sure you can never use them again.'
Sydney smirked, and thought, 'Remind me to thank dad next time I talk to him -- which could be a while -- but really thank him.'
And she wasn't thinking that sarcastically.
"Fine," she sighed, and started walking away from their parked cars, "Come on, I'll show you where it is."
He followed her up, peering at his surrounding, trying to gauge where he was, possible escape routes, places where people could possibly hide, and just generally checking out the people who lived in the apartment complex with her.
The neighbors were giving her weird looks when she arrived at her floor, a man trailing a few feet behind her, but she didn't care what they thought, they would make assumptions no matter what she said.
She rifled through her bag, fishing through her lipstick cases, cell phone, pepper spray (something her father told her was a necessity), car keys, and compact after compact of make-up, before triumphantly finding the house keys.
Pushing the door open, she smiled at the sight of the environment she felt so comfortable in, and she led Michael in, murmuring, "Home sweet home."
He looked quickly, a small smile on his lips as he set a bag down, one that she hadn't even noticed he was carrying, "I'm going to have a little look around the apartment, make sure all the windows are locked, that there aren't any other ways in here, and then I want you to tell me all about the people who live around here, and everyone who works around here on a daily basis."
"Why?" she questioned, "What do they have to do with anything?"
's***!' he thought, 'Jack must not have told her about the pictures.'
"Well I guess your father left it up to me to tell you," Michael declared, "Apparently along with the threat your father received yesterday, there were pictures – of you. You in here, you walking through the halls of the building, through the lobby, across the parking lot, around campus, sitting in classes, out with your friends, at Francie's apartment and so on. So we're assuming that whoever is taking these pictures you've seen before, even if it is someone you've just passed in the hallway."
She nodded, "Would you like something to drink? I could make some coffee while you are looking stuff over."
"Coffee would be nice," he smiled, walking away from the living room, "I'm just going to look everything over and then I'll be back out here."
As he walked down the hallway, Sydney departed to the kitchen, using her hands to rub her arms, wondering when it had gotten so cold.
But she pushed the thought from her mind, feeling safe when Michael was there with her and went about making the coffee, leaving Michael to do the worrying as he saw fit.
The hallway was dark, and the hairs on the back of Michael's neck were on end, anticipating someone jumping out at him. No one did.
He reached the first bedroom and entered, pulling his gun out just in case and holding it out in front of him. He flipped the light switch on and looked around the tidy room, figuring it must be the guest bedroom. He looked under the bed, in the closet, behind the doors and curtains, basically anywhere someone could hide.
Still, he found nothing. So he gave up on his search of that room and went onto the next room -- the bathroom.
There weren't very many places someone could hide in there, namely the linen closet and the bathtub, which he found empty, but the smell of her shampoo and soap intoxicated him, and for a minute he was in a daze.
'I have to get out of here,' he thought, making his escape out into the hallway and breathing safely again, feeling his mind clear once again.
The last room in the hallway was obviously Sydney's, and he was a little worried to enter it, wondering what exactly he would encounter in there.
Breathing deeply, he bravely entered, raising his gun in front of him as he flipped on the light switch, and pointed the gun first left then right, but once again there was nothing there, so he lowered the gun. Still something was wrong, he felt it, he just didn't know what 'it' was.
Then he saw it: the curtain flapping and blowing with the light wind. Outside, was the balcony, but what bothered him the most was that there was a sliding glass door separating her bedroom and the balcony.
And the door was wide open.
Something Sydney obviously wouldn't leave open all day long.
He walked through the open door and out onto the balcony, and immediately he knew that someone had been in the house before they had gotten there.
And the person had escaped from the balcony before they could be caught.
He shut the door on his way back in, making sure everything was the way it was supposed to be. He didn't want to alarm Sydney too soon, first he would report it to Jack, and then see where he wanted him to take it.
With a straight face, he walked back down the hall, vowing to call Jack in the morning to report everything.
When he walked out into the kitchen he put on a smile and found Sydney sipping from a mug of coffee, immediately handing him his mug.
"Thanks," he replied.
She smiled, "I can cook us something for dinner if you want me to, I mean we do have to eat sometime."
"Nope, that's okay," he cheerfully exclaimed, "We're going out for dinner, my treat."
"Where to then?" she asked, grabbing her purse and following him to the door.
He grinned at her, "McDonald's of course."
And she grinned right along with him as they walked out the door.
TBC...
~*~*~
Please review!