Author's note: Reminder this is a Prequel occuring four years prior to the whirlwind romance of the Fifty Shades Trilogy. This is Christian's POV.

Chapter Four ~ 9-1-1 ~ Penthouse . Escala

"Nine one one. What is your emergency? Police, Fire, Medical?"

"Medical."

"What's your location?"

"1920 Fourth Avenue, Seattle. Penthouse apartment."

"click, click." My call is transferred.

"Seattle Fire - Rescue."

"My… girlfriend… appears to be unconscious. I can't wake her."

"Is she breathing?"

"Yes, she's breathing."

"Did she take anything?"

"No."

"A Rescue is being dispatched."

I take a look around… in minutes, outsiders will be in my office. I stab the button to shut down my computers. I grab the documents from my latest merger and shove them in my top desk drawer, away from prying eyes.

Seconds seem like minutes…

Brandy makes a sound… a moan. Her eyes flicker open. WHEW! Still she's unfocused and seems dazed. After a minute, I help her sit up.

"How did I get on the floor? … Sir?"

"After you… I laid you down."

"I apologize, Master. I'm fine, sir."

"You were out cold. I called a Rescue." I'd really like to believe she's Okay and I certainly don't want the attention and possible outing of our arrangement but calling off the paramedics now might attract more attention… and raise more questions.

She scrambles up shakily, only to kneel on the carpet, hands on her thighs, head bowed. She's swaying slightly.

"They'll be here any minute. You need to get dressed. Now! Get up."

She's unsteady but I help her stand and slip her dress on… fluid is running down her legs. The room smells of pheromones and sex. The desk sex puddle remains…

I call down to the concierge,

"Christian Grey. A guest is ill. I've called the Paramedics. Send them up."

"Yes, sir."

I hang up abruptly.

"Brandy, can you stand? Lean on the desk. Stay here." I bolt to my bathroom and grab the first towel I come to. I wipe my face on the way back to my office. Brandy is standing as I left her, leaning unsteadily against the desk. I hold the other end of towel.

"I'm going to clean you up." I start at her ankles, wiping her legs, sopping up the fluid all the way up underneath her dress. I soak up the puddle on my desk top and down the front of the base. I fold the towel to a dry place, put it on the brown leather chair.

"Sit here. Don't move. I'll go let the Paramedics in."

I watch her until she's seated.

I hear the ping of the elevator and voices.

"This way." I lead them, one male and one female Paramedic, carrying their bulky EMT packs, to my office.

Brandy looks considerably better, though rather flushed.

The Paramedics ask what happened.

I hear her tell them, "I think just I fainted."

While they examine her, I go to the kitchen to get a glass of ice water for her. I smooth my starched dress shirt, open at neck where I removed my tie earlier, and tuck the excess into fine wool dress suit pants. I straighten my sleeves, rolled neatly just below my elbows.

My executive appearance refreshed, I return. "Water", I show the glass to them. "Is it alright to give it to her?"

"Just sips."

I hand it to her and step away to let them do their jobs. I take my place in my leather executive chair behind my desk, my bespoke suit coat of the finest wool hung neatly on the back. In my seat of power, I am powerful, in control, dominant. I silently observe the action going on in front of me… gathering intel… information I may need to make decisions.

"Are you on any medications, any drugs?"

"No."

"Anything to drink?"

"No, No alcohol, if that's what you are asking."

"When did you last eat?"

"Lunch… about one o'clock."

"We were about to order dinner," I interject.

The Paramedics seemingly give Brandy a thorough going over, finding nothing wrong. They suggest she go with them to be checked at the Emergency Room. I encourage her to go with them.

She's reluctant. "Don't worry about the cost," I tell her.

"I'll take you if you'd rather." That will certainly compromise my privacy but as her Dom, I accepted that responsibility. Maybe there's another way? Who do I have available to accompany her? Nobody.

"I'd rather see my own doctor on Monday." She insists. Is there something she's not telling me? Brandy signs their paperwork.

I walk them to the elevator. "Thank you for coming."

"Keep her under observation for the rest of the night and don't hesitate to call if there's a recurrence."

"I will."

I know as public employees they can't accept tips.

"What station are you from?"

"We work out of Station 2 – Belltown"

"Thanks again."

I sit in the leather chair next to her.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"What could you possibly be sorry for?"

"This is embarrassing." Her face is red. Is she… embarrassed? "I… I've never had that happen before… But I think my twin sister has?"

"You have a sister?"

Was this in the background information I have done on new submissives? I resolve to check.

"Yes. My sister Jan has had it happen several times. 'La petite mort' she called it. It's French for 'The Little Death'."

"I speak French."

"Of course, sir. One time she woke up in the E.R."

"You nearly did tonight. You still need a though checkup, to be sure it's not something else? Who do you see?"

"I go to the Free Clinic."

"I see."

I pickup my phone from the desk. "Welch. I've had an incident at the apartment." He's listening intently. "Miss Brandy passed out. She has no obvious injuries. I called 9-1-1. She'd come to by the time the Paramedics got here. They didn't find anything and she declined to go to the E.R. She says she feels fine now; that she just fainted. I'm keeping her under observation. She needs a full checkup. She goes to the Seattle Free Clinic."

"Find out what doctor runs the clinic. Make an appointment Monday or better still, have them come here tonight. Make it happen."

"Keep an eye on the media & see if there's any fallout to deal with. See that they observe all the HIPAA confidentiality rules."

"The paramedics were from Station two. I'd like to send them something. A meal? How about sandwiches for the whole station? How many firefighters are on each shift?"

"I'm looking at a picture on-line of nine men posing in front of the firehouse. Maybe ten or twelve in case there are some not in this picture."

"Do you want me to place the order, sir?"

"No, I'll do it from here, thanks."

"Welch, the on-site security staff we were discussing… I need them qualified as medical First Responders, the same as we do with Security at Grey House."

"We can do that Mr. Grey. I'll get back to you next week."

"I'll call you back on the Free Clinic, sir. Let me get right on it."

"Okay." I hang up.

"Sir. May I change. I'd like to wash the dress out. It's such a lovely dress and I'm afraid it may be ruined." She looks distressed. I'm not worried about the cost of the dress; I can buy her a new one.

"Do you feel up to it?"

"Yes, sir."

"I will accompany you." This is not up for discussion.

I sit in the chair in her dressing room watching her as she prepares to change. She is a lovely shapely woman. About five foot four with an athletic build… her breasts are full and round… She's stunning and my body twitches in approval but I exert my will to bring it to heel. No matter how much I want her, my responsibility comes before my own desires.

Standing naked before me, she gathers up the soiled dress. "I'll rinse it out, Sir."

"Alright."

She quickly hand washes it in the basin in her bathroom and goes to hang it from the shower head.

"Master, may I shower?"

This is what she wants. It might make her feel better.

"Okay, go ahead."

I lean against the counter while she showers. She doesn't close the curtain fully, just enough to contain the water splash. I can see her naked body from this angle as she turns under the spray and I look away to make my containment easier.