Chapter Six

'To your new office.' Lindsey tilted her head to the side slightly and saluted with her champagne flute, smiling as she did so. Gregory nodded, accepting her toast and raised his flute in kind.

'And to new beginnings.' he intoned, causing Lindsey to raise a brow at him as she sipped her champagne. He smiled and sipped from his, watching her in the late evening light. She turned away, looking around the half-furnished office. A veritable fortress of boxes stood atop the large desk, and more boxes sat in the shadows, their contents waiting to be unpacked and shelved away. The only other furniture in the room besides the desk were two oversize leather armchairs and a leather office chair behind the desk, the last also supporting a box or two. Low lighting came from sconces on the walls, along with the French doors that opened onto a private balcony.

'I like it, Gregory. It has a better atmosphere than you current office. More conducive, I think.' He inclined his head to her, accepting her praise. Lindsey walked to the door, looking out at the sinking sun. Gregory had been unusually quiet tonight, but staring out at the sun, she didn't mind right then. Gregory was watching her intently, and she seems unaware of the intensity of his gaze. She was beautiful right now, not any more so than any other time, but uniquely so with the sun lighting her face and hair. Auburn hair half pulled back, loose on her shoulders. The fabric of her blouse was light, and he could make out the outline of her bra underneath. She was a marvel to behold when she was naked. It had taken some time to ease her into being comfortable with her own skin, and he remembers with a smile how anxious she had been the first time she had permitted him to see her nude.

Ah, but that had only been one of the changes he had worked on her since meeting her. He'd worked slowly, gaining her acceptance and trust, slowly softening her to him, molding her to his desires. She'd been neither too soft nor too stiff, within her was the perfect balance of strength and and flexibility, what he needed for her to endure. And endure she had, and with just a little more polish his finished product would gleam.

He'd had the time to take with Lindsey, he thought, sipping his champagne. As of yet, there'd been no need for the alternative methods he'd put to use in the past. She had a few less demons, and no illusions about saving the world from itself, even though she doggedly tried. And as he had done before, he had promised her what she had desired most. Her desire was happiness, something she'd been denied for far too long, and it surprised him slightly when he began to feel a slight joy in bringing it to her. Tonight, he would make his final adjustments, and would soon unveil his work to the world.

'Lindsey,' she turned away from the glass, champagne flute halfway to her lips, eyes curious. 'Please, have a seat.' She did as bid, sinking gracefully into one of the armchairs. Knowing he hated it, she resisted tucking her legs underneath her as she sat, opting instead to cross her ankles and relax. He smiled, came towards her, and set his own crystal flute on the small table occupying the space between the chairs. As she looked up at him, Gregory bent and kissed her forehead, gently, then straightened. He didn't sit as she expected, but walked towards the desk. She'd learned not to question, another accomplishment he was proud of. Behind the wall of boxes, he opened the middle drawer of the desk, withdrawing two items. The first was a key ring, which had two keys on it. This was slid noiselessly into his trouser pocket. The second item was a small leather valise. Laying it open on the desk, he withdrew a bottle and a syringe from it. While he hoped not to use it, it may prove necessary. This went into his other pocket. Smiling pleasantly, Gregory came back around the desk.

"I have something I'd like to ask of you.' He'd never done this before, he realized, never letting anyone come this close, except once. But then, there had been no need to ask such a simple question simply because of the situation, which hadn't required it. Lindsey watched him draw near, smiling, sipping champagne. 'Yes, Gregory?' she asked, giving him her permission.

He stopped in front of her, standing erect like a dancer, head tilted slightly to one side. It amused him that Lindsey unconsciously imitated him as she awaited the request. 'I'd like you to move in with me.' he said, the words feeling odd, but not unpleasant in his mouth. She blinked once, and set her champagne down on the table with a wide grin.

Her composure slipped for just a moment, 'You're serious?' and she saw his annoyance at her slip, but she didn't become meek. She stood and came to him. 'I'd be happy to, Gregory.' This, this was wonderful. The logical part of her mind reminded her that she had things to take care of before she could do so, but...

'I've already secured a Realtor to list your house, Lindsey, as well as arranging movers. Will two weeks form now suit you?'

A quick review of her mental calendar. 'Yes, that would be fine.' He smiled, allowing his glee to show.

'Wonderful.' He handed her the keys and she took them, looking at them carefully. She stepped forward and hugged him, completely willing when he engaged her in a lingering kiss. She loved it when h kissed her, it was so... Funny, she never found the words for it, could never describe the exuberance and happiness and fear that coursed through her.

When they parted she smiled at him, he gently brought her to her chair again, then busied himself with pouring her another glass of champagne. Two glasses wouldn't harm her. 'There's something else we might discuss, Lindsey.'

She looked at him curiously, eyes following him as he walked to the French doors and looked out. She was curious, and a bit afraid. Truth be told, that was a common reaction to Gregory. She adored him, but she would never admit that he made her just the slightest bit uneasy. It was as if he wasn't completely himself at times, but someone else, as if Gregory were just a persona he could take on and shed at will. It was silly, she always told herself, shoving the thoughts away where she kept all the things that made her uneasy.

He turned back to her, speaking softly. 'Sometimes, Lindsey, we do things that we'd rather not, upon later consideration.' He walked towards the bookshelves, behind the great armchairs. Lindsey pressed back in her chair, keeping him in view as much as she could. Great, she told herself, this is when he tells me he's still married and I'm his mistress. Even though she had seen enough to prove this contrary, she still wondered. There was something else, which was rustling in that dark corner of her mind, she tried to keep that door shut, trying to ignore its whispers.

He was behind her chair now, which forced her to either to sit improperly to see him, or to tilt her head back enough just to see his face loom white and dark above her. Storm dark eyes and red lips were all too serious.

'Lindsey,' he began again, 'I've done things in my past, things that were necessary at the time, but not excusable.' How much to reveal? How far to go? He wanted to keep her, she fit so nicely, she wasn't perfect, but, more than adequate. He saw concern, fear darken her eyes. Careful, now. Out of her sight, he hands worked to prepare the syringe, whose use seemed to be imminent.

Lindsey could here the whispers growing louder in her head, gaining strength, urging her to open the door and let them out. She knew the abyss that lay behind that door in her mind, and knew that if she looked into it now, she'd never come back to this moment, or to Gregory. She opened the door, looking into her nightmares.

'We all do what we have to do.' she murmured, still looking up at Gregory, her neck hurt form the angle, but she couldn't move at the moment. She clearly heard his breath in the silence.

'Lindsey, there are things you should know about me.'

The monster in the abyss loomed at her, and she stared, seeing him in her minds eye and before her. Why? Why was she doing this? It was her choice, and if she were to do right she would forfeit all she had gained.

Her eyes shut, she could feel the burning. Gregory reached around the chair, ready to take the moment, the hypodermic was hair fine, she'd never feel...

Lindsey slammed the door shut on the darkness, coming suddenly to her feet. She knew, but she didn't want to. If this was the price she had to pay, she would do it willingly. No one had to know.

'Whatever you were, or did, it doesn't matter to me. The past is the past, Gregory, leave it there.'

He was surprised, and it showed clearly. This... This was unexpected, certainly not unpleasant, but unexpected. Hands still out of sight form her he recapped the syringe and returned it to his pocket. He came to her swiftly, and bent his head to hers.

'You will not regret your decision, Lindsey.' he murmured softly before he consumed her.
.-.-.-.

It was with great effort that Lindsey pulled herself from her memories. She thought it was like having a ladder in her stockings- one snag end everything had begun to unravel. She looked up, thinking, coming to a decision.

The house whispered in the winds of the approaching cold front, almost seeming to breathe with it. Soft footsteps in the upstairs hallway sounded soft above the wind, silenced by the carpet runner there. A loud creak, and everything silences, seconds held, counted, until both house and occupant breathe again. Footsteps on the staircase now, a shadow growing and announcing descent.

Lindsey gripped the banister tightly, feeling the polished wood beneath her palm. Wondering how many before her had come down these stairs, knowing with a bitter certainty that she'd been the only one to mount them with this mission in mind.

She kept the box in the hall closet, tucked high on the shelf, under other boxes of other items. The box had been up there for a year and a half, since she'd begun to share her life more intimately with Gregory. She opened the door, looking into the dimness and reaching upwards, coming up short. A quick retreat to the kitchen, returning with a folding stepladder. Carefully, up two steps and reaching through the other random objects that had collected there, seeking her box.

And she had it, heavy in her hands as she dropped back down to the floor, seating herself in a shaft of sunlight pouring through the door. As she removed the lid, Lindsey was still unsure of why she was doing this, but something urged her on.

There was a framed picture on top of the contents, her smiling with Clarice. Her stomach twinged, and she lifted the picture out and set it aside. Below that, a plaque, her FBI badge mounted, shining bright at her. That too went aside with the picture. Smaller things now, and her fingers burrowed knowingly to the bottom of the box.

There, she felt the taped grip and her fingers closed around it. Lindsey held her breath as she withdrew the .45 from the box. Once out, she stared at it, examining it. A trip in the late afternoon would tell her that it was still in good condition, and she would wonder as she stood on the range, whom she was trying to protect herself from.

Everything back in the box, the box back in the closet, the .45 snug in the small of her back. No one had to know.
.-.-.-.