23. Come What May... The Elitist.

"Anything you can do, I can do better;

Sooner or later, I'm greater than you."

~Annie Get Your Gun

A/N: This is a bit on the morbid side, but then, dealing with people isn't always pleasant either. Just work retail. This is definitely NSFW or so I think. Hard M.

Lin was no stranger to suits at the office, business attire after all because they were a business, no matter what side of the world they were on; tuxedos, however, for a party in Cambridge and put on by the BSPR, were stifling. This shindig was a strained meet-the-people-you-work-with, and meet-your-patrons-party. The powers-that-be and benefactors-that-were had been generous enough to spring for plane tickets for all of them and a set of hotel rooms, too. That had been a nice gesture on their parts, but Noll was with his parents and Lin's flat wasn't far from the hotel where the party was being held-maybe ten minutes by foot. As far as parties went, well... Lin was already bored out of his mind. The only people worth talking to were otherwise occupied. He took a quick, surreptitious glance around, wondering how much longer he'd have to endure this. He glanced at his Shiki and received no news. No news meant none of the foreign workers, mainly the irregular workers, were in any sort of trouble. A chuckle had him focusing on what he thought was the real reason for this get-together. Mai stood surrounded by other workers of the English branch. They all wanted to meet this girl that had received the highest possible praise from the great Dr. Oliver Davis.

"So that's her, eh?"

Lin glanced behind him to see Steve Davenport. "That's Mai," he agreed.

"And she has somehow managed to earn approval from the great Dr. Davis."

Lin shrugged, frowning at the hostility he heard in the man's voice. "There are cases that we wouldn't have been able to finish without her," he admitted.

"Prodigal Mai," he sneered.

Lin looked at him with surprise. It was unlike Steve to be so... contentious to people he didn't know. "Mai's hardly a prodigy," he commented, looking at her again. She looked fetching in the simple cocktail dress she wore.

"And yet everyone wants to meet her."

"Naturally," Lin said. "Oliver and I found some truly talented individuals in Japan, Mai being one of them. It makes sense that everyone apart of the BSPR wants to meet those people, right?"

"Right," Steve agreed, his tone unconvinced. "So tell me Lin, what do you think of her?"

"Oh, no," Lin said. "I am not getting involved in that. We work together and yes Steve, she has proven herself in the field." That said, Lin walked over to the bar and asked for mineral water. He wasn't going to drink tonight. Ignoring the bartender's surprised glance, he took the bottle and retreated to where he'd been sitting.

Steve bit his lip as he heard Mai laugh again. He didn't hear the awkwardness or slight discomfort. What his mind heard was an usurper. He didn't mind teaching usurpers a lesson. Approaching the bar, he asked for two flutes of champagne. When they bubbled in front of him, he surreptitiously dropped a pill into one. This was the kind that didn't turn drinks a different color; that dissolved seamlessly, his supplier assured him; it was also more potent than the normal drug. Yes, he would teach that usurper a lesson; the same lesson he'd taught others who dared to do the same thing. Taking the flutes and making sure the untainted one was in the right hand, he approached the slowly disbanding group; he didn't notice Lin rising and moving towards him. He stopped in front of Mai's table.

"We haven't had the pleasure of meeting yet," he said, in slow, precise English.

Mai looked up at him and grinned slightly. "No," she said, her words just as slowly and heavily accented, "we haven't. Mai Taniyama."

"Prodigal Mai," he purred and she gave him a confused look. He smiled charmingly. "Steven Davenport; I'm part of the Platt Lab staff." He handed her the tainted glass of champagne.

Mai looked at the glass with consternation and shook her head. She was only nineteen. Not old enough yet.

He smiled winningly. "Oh, come now. Surely one sip wouldn't hurt?" One sip was all he needed.

Mai bit her lip, but took it and looked at, puzzled. She couldn't explain it, but she thought there was something... wrong with it. But the question was would a sip truly harm her? One little sip couldn't actually do damage, she reasoned. Raising the glass, she tapped it to his and took a small sip. She grimaced at the taste. It tasted... there was very little flavor and almost tasted like sand in liquid form. She pushed the flute away. She heard her name called and she stood when everything seemed to go weird around her. She didn't realize she was panting until she saw herself in a reflection from the gleaming tabletop. Her color was high, her bosom heaved, and…she needed something. She stood blindly, searching for... she didn't know. Turning, she ran into Steve who banded his arms around her, smiling darkly like he'd planned this. He had, she knew. Keeping her caged, he turned to the party guests and apologized, saying he would escort her to her room.

She hadn't made a scene, she thought agitatedly, so why was he apologizing? Mai wanted to protest him taking her anywhere, but she couldn't say a word. Suddenly, she wasn't sure how it had happened, but she was out of Steve's arms and in Lin's embrace. Being in his arms made her need intensify by a hundred-fold. "I'll help her," she heard him say.

Steve began to protest. "Oh, come now old man, I'm responsible for this. Let me return the favor."

Lin ignored him and instructed his Shiki to get that flute she'd drunk from. There was something wrong with it. He would forever regret that he hadn't made it to her in time to keep her from sipping that champagne. He should have tried to keep Steve away from Mai, knowing the rumors that surrounded the man. Why hadn't he? Because he hadn't thought the man stupid enough to try something with fifty plus people around, he thought grimly. Wrapping his arm around Mai's shoulder, he led her from the ballroom towards the doors. "I'm taking you to my flat," he told her, guiding her out to a waiting taxi-cab. "I don't know what Steve did, but I will not leave you in the hotel where he can find you." Besides, he had wards surrounding his flat.

She could only nod as he bundled her into the waiting cab and slipped in beside her. It took less than two minutes to get to his loft and he let her into the spacious apartment. It was all him, she thought, looking around blearily. Her dream flooded back to her: the one from three weeks ago. She wasn't sure how she knew it was him, but she knew it had been; she'd recognized the fringe of hair, the masculine curve of his lips, the long pianist fingers. In her dream, his body had trapped hers, holding her prisoner while he pleasured her. His fingers had petted, stroked, and pushed delicately inside her a rhythmic movement: in and out; in and out, making her hips mimic the motions helplessly; she'd loved it. And before he could finish her off, her alarm clock rang, causing her to mourn that it had been just a dream. Things had been very awkward for her that day at work. She'd been frazzled and clumsy and unable to string two words together around him. At one point, he'd asked of if she was unwell and did he need him to drive her home? She had laughed-a desperate, wild thing and refused, saying it was just that time of the month. She was sure he hadn't believed her. She did know that if she'd been alone with him in her apartment, she'd have jumped his bones.

"This way," he said, leading her to his bedroom after tossing his jacket and bow tie onto the nearest surface on the way. His bed would have to do, he thought grimly; the other bedroom was used for an office.

She followed, seeing a massive bed covered in dark sheets. In the muted light they looked black, but could be any kind of dark color. She stood there, bereft of his touch, and shivering as need slammed into her system, wave after wave. She watched him through hooded eyes as he pulled the covers back and reapproached her. Her body tightened with a need that bordered on insanity when he gently gripped her arm again and led her towards that massive bed. "In you get," he told her.

He helped her onto the mattress and turned to leave, intent on letting her sleep whatever Steve had given her. And he would find out. Before he left the bedroom, indeed, before he got more than a few feet away, a hand buried itself in his shirt. He twisted to see Mai holding the material in a death grip, like she was afraid to let him leave. She was flushed, agitated, her chest heaving- symptoms of being fed a drug he knew.

"Tease," she muttered. "Awake, in my dreams, you do nothing but tease me."

His brow furrowed. What was she talking about? "Mai," he said gently, turning back. "What have I done to upset you?

"Done? Done?" Her laugh bordered hysterical. "It's what you haven't done!"

Baffled, he shook his head. Mai used that moment to haul him down on top of her, breathing in sharply when his body covered hers. The feeling was electric and he gasped at the contact. She dragged his face down to hers and kissed him fiercely, making him reel in shock. Pulling away, he levered himself above her and shook his head. "You're under the influence of something," he told her.

"I know," she whispered, the need for him becoming almost unbearable. She pulled him down to her again and kissed him anew, trailing her lips down his jaw and the skin she could reach sans his clothing. "I wouldn't have the strength to do this otherwise." Holding his face in her hands, her mouth hot on his she said, "Make love to me. Please."

He extricated himself and shook his head. "No. It's not you talking, but whatever Steve gave you." You'll hate me if I do, he thought, vaguely astonished that the prospect of making love to her wasn't as horrifying as it should have been. He gasped when one of her hands slid beneath his shirt and trailed upwards and the other dipped into his pants, finding him. He threw his head back and hissed as she lifted her hips to rub against him, delighting at the friction. She was shredding his finely honed control like it was nothing.

The hand beneath his shirt slid out again to cup his neck and bring him down for another scorching kiss. "Make love to me," she repeated. "Stop teasing me."

He still had no idea what she meant by teasing her, but, he decided balancing on his forearms and cupping her face gently with his hands and staring into her eyes, if he was going to be hated in the morning, he might as well take what she offered and bring them both pleasure. He slanted his mouth over hers and coaxed her mouth open, letting his tongue mingle with hers, relishing in her taste. Champagne-just a small hint, soda, and oolong tea sweetened with a minute amount of honey. She caressed him again and he tore himself away from her, snatching the hand from his member and dragged her up with both hands.

"Now who's being a tease?" he asked hoarsely, holding her hands prisoner.

She smiled devilishly at him. It occurred to him that her eyes were remarkably clear. Clear or not she still wouldn't remember come tomorrow. Sorrow lanced through him when he realized he'd be the only one to remember this night. But he could give her the impressions of it, something to remember at the edge of her memories. Maybe, just maybe, she'd grow to trust him instead of stuttering like a scared pup like she'd done for the last couple of weeks.

Keeping their eyes locked, he helped her into a sitting position and reached behind her and unzipping the black dress, helping her shimmy out of it. Free of his hold, Mai tore his shirt open and tossed it to join the dress when his arms were free. She took the opportunity to explore, holding his hips prisoner between her legs, her ankles locked around him. His stomach was flat, toned muscles keenly visible now that he had nothing to cover his torso. The suits he wore kept clients from seeing a body in great shape, she realized. His eyes went dark when her hands and mouth roamed up his stomach and chest and over his shoulders before making their way down back until she reached his hips.

Kissing him again, she undid the belt buckle and undid the pants that he helped to get rid of. Powerful legs, lean and long, just like the rest of him. His eyes trailed down her body and felt his stomach clench. She was delicate, tiny, and being inside her was going to hurt her most likely. But she was lovely, he thought. The bra went first and she filled his palms. Not too small, he thought caressing her nipples with his thumbs, causing her to shiver and grasp his shoulders as pleasure rocketed through her, and not too large. Just right. Leaning down he took one pert nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it, over and over again; she shuddered and cried out. He released her breast and blew on it gently and Mai gasped as it tightened almost painfully now that his mouth was no longer there. He repeated the process with the neglected twin and she arched almost mindlessly under his ministrations.

"Tease," she chanted. "Tease, tease, tease."

"Tease?" he asked. A sensual smile curled his lips. "I'm just getting started. I want you to remember as much of tonight as you can." His lips started a slow, torturous route down her body, starting from the shell of her ear, down the graceful column of her throat, to her breasts again and down further. He paused at her belly button, nuzzled it, delved into it with his tongue and then left it, but not before he enjoyed her squirming beneath him. He bypassed her most intimate spot and started on her feet, nosing and kissing her ankles, the skin delicate there, too. Up her calves and then to her thighs. Then... there. Yes, there. He nuzzled her through her panties, they were already soaked and the knowledge that it had been his ministrations that caused it. Curving one finger around the panties, he tugged them down, making sure his knuckle brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips arched up and she gasped at the mere stroke.

"So responsive," he murmured. "I wonder what else will make you scream. I intend to find out," he told her, ripping the panties away tossing them to somewhere in the bedroom. Spreading her thighs he took a moment, just a moment, to look before his tongue touched that small spot.

Pleasure ricocheted through her when his mouth touched her most intimate spot. "Lin!" she gasped, her hips arching upwards. He inserted one finger inside her, testing as he licked her again. Again her hips drove upwards, riding the finger inside her body.

Ah. He was getting close. This time, he angled his tongue inside her and this time, she screamed and shattered. He found her mouth again, kissing her deeply and rubbed against her. She heaved a shocked breath out and gripped his back, leaving red, crescent moon markings where her nails dug in.

"Lin," she repeated, when he rubbed against her again. "Please. Please," she chanted, nearly mad.

His underwear went and Mai delighted in the feeling of his erection pressed against her stomach. But… he should put that inside her, she reasoned, reaching down and running her hand up it. It wasn't doing her any good against her stomach. He growled and tore away before repositioning himself at her entrance. "Are you ready, Mai?" he asked.

She shuddered at how sensual his voice sounded, how it caressed her bare skin, making her nipples tighten and waves pulse through her body. "Tease," she told him.

"Indeed," he said, beginning to push into her slowly. Dear gods, he thought, she was so tight, he was sure he'd expire before long. It was slow going for him. Lin paused several times to let her get used to him. When he reached that tensile barrier, he hesitated, looking into her eyes. Once that was gone, that was it. She'd never be able to regain it.

"Don't you dare stop," she whispered, scoring has back.

He kissed her tenderly as he broke through. Her nails scratched down his spine and she arched up, breathing raggedly. He froze, cupping her face and staring into her eyes. "Mai," he whispered tenderly.

"I'm okay," she said.

The expression on her face said otherwise, he thought, holding still until he saw her features relax.

"Ne, Lin-san."

He chuckled, his voice a bit strained. "I think you can call me by my name," he said lightly. "I'm inside you, after all and I can't get any closer; there's no need for formalities. Koujo."

She blushed madly, but nodded. "Koujo. I…wonder…I try to ask in my dreams but there's never an answer… what's it like?"

Her dreams? What dreams? She kept mentioning them, but the 'what' was the question that he had no answer for at the present. "What's what like?"

She bit her lip and colored up again. "Ah…being… inside me."

He blinked. He hadn't expected her to ask that. He thought for a moment her inner walls hugging him, squeezing him with exquisite torture every small movement that she made, making it hard to think… form words or thoughts. He went with what he felt. "You feel amazing," he whispered. "You've never known a man before." You won't remember this, either, he thought sadly. "Every breath you take increases the friction around me, driving me insane." He had to move soon, he knew, his body was starting to crave movement, but he would wait until she was more comfortable.

Mai took a moment to absorb what he said.

"Your turn Mai. What does it feel like having me inside you?" He moved a tiny fraction, almost all the way in.

She shuddered, pleasure rolling through her at the small movement in her body. "I… feel… you," she whispered, her hands holding his face gently and looking into his eyes. "You're there, huge, pulsing…" she trailed off, shaking her head and lifting her legs to settle around his hips again, drawing him in further. Taking that as an incentive, he pushed all the way in until he touched her core. She arched up with a gasp. "You make me feel incredible."

His heart broke just a bit and captured her mouth, caressing her tongue with his. "It's about to feel better."

Mai didn't know how, then again, her dreams of him loving her didn't usually go past him being inside her—if they went that far at all. But this was no dream. He flexed his hips, pulling back just a bit, watching as her eyes opened in terror before he slid back. The sensation pulsed through her body making her back arch in mindless pleasure and she whimpered. He did it again, just to hear that sound again. Reaching down, he gripped her hips, pulling them up to meet his as he slid back in again. This time, her breath hitched and she felt rather than saw Lin do the same. He released her hips and she flexed them to meet his again and again, growing more and more frantic as they sensed their bodies nearing to completion.

"Koujo," she whispered as the world began to splinter.

"Mai." Taking her mouth again, he followed her into oblivion.

Lin woke in the wee morning hours to find Mai still asleep and curled into his side. He'd made love to her three times last night. And while she wouldn't remember, he would. And that would have to be enough for the time being. He peered at the clock on the nightstand and sighed. No time for another round, though he found himself hungry for another one. He needed to go to the lab and call Jamieson to meet him there. Carefully, he extracted himself from Mai's embrace and pressed a light kiss to her lips—almost a farewell kiss, he thought sadly. Dressing, he left.

…

"There are labs for this sort of thing, you know," Jamieson muttered, glaring at Lin.

Lin looked around the Platt Lab and then looked at Jamieson pointedly.

"Police labs, you know."

"If they're so efficient, why do they contact us?" Lin asked, taking a sample of the champagne and putting it through a series of tests.

"Well so what? Anyway, what's the point of this, Lin?"

He looked at the printer that was spitting out results. Taking them, he frowned when he read what he'd suspected. Without saying a word, he handed the results to Roger Jamieson, the man who'd brought Steve Davenport into the folds of the B.S.P.R.

"What?" the man asked crossly.

"Read," Lin ordered him imperiously.

Jamieson did. His face went ashen and he looked up at Lin. "Rohypnol? Someone put Rohypnol in this drink? This formula's a bit more potent than normal, isn't it?" he asked.

"It is and Steve put it there. Why, I don't know, but he put it there and Mai took a sip of it. Jamieson, his prints are all over the glass—who else could have? Besides, I think you've heard by now that he's been accused of using roofies on ladies that work or worked for the BSPR."

"Allegedly accused."

"Tomato, tohmato," Lin countered. "I'll pull the files if you'd like."

Jamieson shook his head. "No, I believe you. I just don't know why he'd do it—to any of them and most of all to a member of our Japanese branch. He doesn't even know Mai."

"Because she's earned the one thing he craves: Oliver's praise—I also think that he's become an elitist. I've heard him talking to others that the riff-raff—meaning the other ladies and men that he didn't like—were usurpers: individuals he couldn't tolerate."

"What does that mean, Lin? Usurpers?"

"In my opinion," Lin said, his voice quiet and cold, "it means people who do better than he does at something—something that earned those people the praise of Dr. Oliver Davis. And that's something he's never been able to earn no matter what. So the people that earned it instead, they're thieves."

"Astounding. And after I rescued him, too. You know, I found him sitting next to a dumpster in his own shit twenty years ago? His parents didn't want him because he caused poltergeist activity; they kicked him out, left him to starve. I found him. I raised him. I educated him, taught him to control his abilities and he has that type of attitude." Jamieson sighed angrily, then said, "One hopes you're wrong, but you rarely are."

"Can I leave this to you?" Lin asked.

"Yes, of course," Jamieson said heavily.

Lin clasped his shoulder and left, leaving Jamieson to make the toughest call he'd ever made.

…

Lin paused outside his loft, trying to steel his heart and assuage his conscience. Whatever happened inside the door in front of him wasn't going to be pretty, he knew. Taking a few deep breaths, he unlocked the door and entered into his living space, locking the door behind him. He found Mai sitting in one of his shirts on his couch a cup in front of her. She'd made use of his kitchen for tea, it seemed. They had another week of this faux vacation. He'd probably have to buy some food or live on take out. Later, he could deal with it later.

"Where were you?" she asked, her tone dangerous.

It starts, he thought, absently. "I had to go into the Platt Lab for a bit. I'm sorry if I worried you, Taniyama-san."

She reeled as if he'd struck her physically, her eyes wide with shock. "Taniyama…san?" Her hand fluttered up to her lips that were still a bit swollen. "I thought… after last night…" She shook her head to get rid of the tears that started to pool into her eyes and took a deep breath. "I guess I assumed incorrectly." She stood, the sight of her in his shirt sensual, despite the shapelessness of garment on her petite frame. "I'm sorry. I'll just get my stuff and go. It's a bit hazy, but I don't think I'm very far from the hotel. Thanks for taking care of me last night, Lin-san. I'm sorry if I was a burden."

She disappeared into the bedroom to root for her dress and shoes. He followed her, watching her hunt.

"Do you remember?" he asked hoarsely.

"Of course I do," she said, picking up random things and looking around. Where was that dress? She snatched the underwear that had landed on the dresser and tugged them on, grimacing at the stiff feel of the garment but continued to search for her dress. "It was the best night of my life. Something I was sure would never happen." She looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged. "I'm sure you've figured out by now that I had… erotic dreams with you as the main star. But I was sure you'd never see me that way, so… well, I learned to cope. And then that… man put something in that champagne. It lowered my inhibitions, obviously and while under that influence, well, you know the rest."

'Tease. Awake, in my dreams, you do nothing but tease me. Stop teasing me.' He closed his eyes and let out the breath he'd been holding and closed the door to his bedroom, silently. He advanced upon her and drew her backside flush with his front. She froze. "The only place you go in that outfit is my bed," he murmured in her ear, his hand creeping up the shirt to finger her through the panties.

She shivered. "Don't joke," she told him, touching the arms that held her prisoner. "I can't handle it right now."

"I'm dead serious, Mai," he said, walking them towards the bed. "And just so you know, I don't share."

She smiled, even though he couldn't see it. She didn't want anyone to have him when she was with him. "We're in agreement, then. Neither do I."

Lin received a call the next day from Jamieson stating that Steve Davenport had been kicked out of the B.S.P.R. Smiling, he returned to the bed and to Mai, who snuggled close when he returned. All's well that ends well, he thought.