A/N: Chapter 5 is here. I've been under the weather for awhile, so I haven't been writing as much as I usually would. My lungs are atrocious and I get these bouts with bronchitis that leave me struggling for breath at times. In addition, I've been suffering from writers block. The castle alluded to does exist, and you can see it here,
http:/ www. Joslyncastle. com/ (remove the spaces)
On a further note, I can't promise any kind of consistency in my updating. Part and parcel of being ill, and having a life. I run a consulting business where I do technical writing to pay the bills so. . . there's times where I just don't want to write in my free time. I'm going to try to be better about updating though, because I know that there is some interest in this story and some of my other works. Feel free to review, I do try to reply to each one, and I do value your input.
Some smut in this chapter. Kink, non con/dubious consent fantasy. If that's not your cup of tea, skip the Sam part. He's got a dirty mind.
Lastly, self insert in this chapter. The character is relatively unimportant to the larger narrative of the story, and he'll just be in this chapter and the next one I think. It is what it is.
This chapter is for gleefulmusings, jono74656, Dasher, Grace, and all the members of the canoe and you the reader.
Mens Rea
Chapter 5: About Your Plans
KurtPOV (Tuesday morning February 14th, 2012)
I was running late. I didn't have the case file with me, and I figured that might be important when meeting with the star witness. So, that meant driving from my condo in Midtown Crossing down to the office, and back up to Lisa's on 40th. Not a bad drive, but kind of a pain to do in the morning rush hour. Finding a place to park downtown is always a bitch, and this morning was no exception. I ran up to my office, and grabbed the case file off my desk and ducked out.
I got back to my Navigator and backed out, heading west. Farnam street, thankfully, was one of the one way streets downtown that headed west, so there was no need to go east a few blocks, turn on to a north south street and head north a couple of blocks to find a one way that headed west from downtown. Small mercy.
I got up to 40th, too many red lights later, and made a right. Going down 40th, I found myself driving by the castle, it's grounds and some of the trees covered in snow, creating a magical sort of effect. A small smile graced my face as I recalled a friend's wedding that had occurred there the previous spring. I wouldn't be getting married there anytime soon.
I parked right by the cathedral, and walked a block down to Lisa's. I stepped inside, and scanned around for Officer Evans. I waded through the fairly busy restaurant and found him near the back. At least, I inferred that he was Officer Evans based on the fact that he was in uniform, by himself with a second menu waiting.
"Officer Evans?" I said to him.
He looked up at me. Warm green eyes, dark blond hair, pouty lips. Stunning. "You must be Mr. Hummel?" He said tentatively, moistening his lips in the process.
"The one and only." I said a little grandly, extending my hand out, which he reached up and clasped.
I took my seat, taking a sip out of the water glass that was there. I reached for a menu, glancing over it. I knew what I was going to order though.
The waitress came over and inquired as to what I would like to order. "Could I have coffee, and the killer cakes?"
"Sure thing."
She left, weaving her way through the crowded room. "Sorry I was late. I forgot that I didn't have the case file with me and I had to go downtown to get it and come back up here. . ."
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "It's ok." he said, taking a drink of his orange juice.
I opened the file and glanced over it. "Would you mind walking me through the events of last Saturday morning?"
Sam set down his glass. "Yeah. I got a transmission over the radio about a quarter after 5 in the morning indicating that someone had heard screaming in the penthouse suite at the Double Tree hotel downtown. I was a few minutes away, so I responded. I went up there, found the young woman dead, and Hudson on the bed covered in her blood."
That pretty much matched the report. Time to dig in. "You didn't find that odd? He kills her, and decides to lie down for a nap?"
He snorted. "It's entirely possible, given the empty bottles at the scene that he killed her in a drunken stupor, started screaming and blacked out."
I pursed my lips together. "That rapidly?"
"I dunno. The doctor in the family is my little brother." He said with a touch of pride in his voice.
Change subjects, give me some time to think. "Oh, what's his name?"
He smiled. "His name's Stevie. He's a junior at Creighton."
"Spiffy. I'm class of '02 and '05. Did my undergrad and J. D. there. I would have went out of state, but there were issues to be dealt with."
Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?"
It was my turn to shrug. "Personal matters."
He took another drink of his O. J. and signaled for a refill. "Fair enough. We all have those."
The waitress came, and got his cup. I let her refill my coffee while she was at it. I wondered what his "personal matters" were.
The waitress returned with our plates and his O. J. Officer Evans had ordered a breakfast sandwich. I doused my two huge pancakes with a liberal amount of syrup and dug in.
Our conversation slowed down as we ate. We were both efficient eaters, and were done with very little fanfare. "So, how did you and my client know each other?"
"Beg your pardon?"
"It says here in the report that you filed that Hudson woke up, and finding himself covered in blood, looked at you and identified you. Seems like a weird coincidence yeah?"
He frowned. "We served together in the National Guard in Afghanistan and Iraq."
"When was that?"
"2001-2004."
"Any interaction after that?"
"None that I'm aware of."
"So, he recognized you after over 7 years. You must have had quite an impact."
He shifted in his seat. "Must've been my impressions." He said, with a hollow chuckle.
I doubted that. "I'll have to ask Hudson about those."
Sam managed a weak smile, before launching into a impression of Sean Connery. "Losers always whine about their best, winners go home and screw the prom queen."
It was a good impression. There was something else though. It wasn't a happy memory if his methodical, but nervous shredding of his napkin was any indication. His experience with Hudson may have biased him, but he didn't know that it was Hudson until he had woken up. It was irrelevant to my investigation of the case. I decided to file their relationship away in my mind.
"That's good. The Rock right?"
"Yeah."
"The Marine general in that movie shares my last name, Hummel."
"Oh, that's cool!" Sam enthused.
I signaled to our waitress that we were good to go for the check. She brought it over and placed it, face down on the table. I picked it up, waving Sam away in the process.
"I've got it."
"Thanks."
I waved my hand dismissively. I fished out one of my business cards and handed it to him. "This has my number on it in case you think of anything that might not be on the report."
He took it, and used one of the pieces of napkin to write his number down. "Not quite a business card, but here's mine in case you come up with any other questions, or want to hear more of my impressions." He grinned as he said that.
I found myself smiling back at him despite myself. He was, after all the probable star witness for the prosecution. We were supposed to be adversaries.
"It was nice meeting you Officer Evans." I said, extending my hand again.
"Sam. And likewise, Mr. Hummel." He said, taking it.
"Kurt." I replied, as we disengaged. I made my way to the counter, and he made his way out of the restaurant. The cashier made change, which I left for the waitress. I made my way out, and back to the office.
SamPOV
Holy shit. I was aching in my uniform pants. I adjusted myself discreetly before I made my way out of the restaurant. I passed Kurt on the way out, as he was paying for us. I didn't reckon he'd think about me returning the favor. I wanted to, for the first time in a long time.
It was his voice, mannerisms, the way he carried himself. He was confident, assertive, and when he started asking questions of me, it was just . . . hot. I could imagine him grilling a person on the stand, maybe even losing his cool. I imagined him grilling me on the stand. I groaned softly as I put my car into drive.
I could imagine him doing other things too. It was a 5 minute drive from the restaurant to my house. Today it felt like it was taking an hour.
Stevie's car was gone, thank God. I unlocked the front door and let myself in. Baxter was on the couch and he looked up at me. He didn't make a beeline for the door, so Stevie must have let him out. Bless him.
I kicked my shoes off and made my way up the stairs two at a time, whilst unbuttoning my uniform. I let my pants pool on the floor, shrugging out of my shirt.
I sat down on my bed, fluffing the pillow as I laid back. My cock was half hard, and I palmed it slowly while conjuring up a proper fantasy. I stripped off my undershirt and boxers as my minds eye conjured up the perfect fantasy to lose myself in.
We were in a room together, Kurt and I. We were wearing military dress, though his uniform was slightly different in both style and coloration than my own, which was in tatters.
Kurt was speaking to one of the other soldiers in the room with us. "So this is the rebel commander that you captured. . . Very good. Leave us." The soldier left the room, locking the door from the outside.
Kurt turned towards me. "You should know that escape is impossible. There are no windows, and if you happen to overpower me, the guards will discover that and shoot you on sight. Do you understand?"
It was as expected. "Yes."
"Yes?"
I didn't know what he was looking for. "I understand."
"Well, that's strike one, now isn't it? You are my prisoner, that makes me your superior. You should know to address me as sir." Kurt said in a somewhat menacing tone.
"I'm sorry, sir. I understand sir." I said, opting to exercise discretion.
"Alright. You're still at strike one though. What's your name?"
"Jake Sullivan."
"Strike two. Every soldier we capture gives some variation of that answer. Jake Sullivan, Jacob Sullivan, Jake Sully. Jocelyn Sullivan if they're female. Logically there can't be that many people named Jake Sullivan."
I frowned, moistening my lips nervously. The relatively cool environment in the room/cell was causing me to break out in goosebumps. My chest was partially exposed and my left nipple was exposed. It was stiff due to the cold as well.
"Oh well. Your real name doesn't matter yet. I'll get it out of you eventually. Are you carrying any weapons?"
"No. No, sir." I quickly added.
"I guess I'll just have to check that." Kurt said as he moved toward me.
He spun me around so that I was facing the wall and began to administer a pat down on me. It wasn't a standard pat down, that's for sure. His hands glided up and down my legs, massaging the flesh. He reached into the back of my pants, cupping my ass and squeezing the flesh roughly, forcing a startled hiss out of me. The hands slid lower, brushing my inner thighs. It wasn't an unwelcome sensation. His hands were talented.
His hands continued their exploration of my body, untucking my shirt from my pants and sliding up my abdomen and massaging my chest. His fingers, circling my nipples elicited a heavy moan from me. My cock was fully hard by this point, forming a bulge in my tattered pants.
Kurt spun me around again, and looked down. "Looks like you were concealing a weapon after all. Strike three." He said as he shoved me back on to the bed.
He was on me before I could even react, strapping my arms above my head to the head board of the bed.
"I'm going to need to get rid of this weapon." Kurt chuckled as he ripped my shirt off.
I thrashed from side to side, trying to get Kurt off of me, but failing. His hips pressed down on my own, his own erection pushing against mine. We both moaned at the contact that was created there, as his head leaned down, his velvety tongue circling, teasing my right nipple as his hand rubbed the other one. He switched over, teasing the other one with his tongue as well, before grazing it with his teeth.
He slid languorously down my frame, exploring the whole while with his hands and mouth, finding areas to tease all the while. I had ceased struggling against him, as he had to have known that I would. My body was quivering as I looked down at him through hooded eyes, as he was eye level with my crotch. I nodded my head, and he unzipped me, sliding my pants down and off my legs.
"Sir?" I asked in a small voice.
He looked up at me with a knowing smile on his face. "Yes?"
"You're overdressed. I want to see you. Please, sir."
His nose bumped up against my cock, sending sensations throughout my body as he got up. He unbuttoned his own shirt, hanging it carefully on the back of a chair. He took off his belt next, wrapping it in his hand.
"Maybe next time." he said, setting the belt on the chair, as he unzipped and stepped out of his uniform pants.
He had miles of perfect milky white skin, which was in clear contrast to my tan. He arched an eyebrow at me, daring me to say something as he moved back into position between my legs.
His hand began ghosting over my erection as he began to give me an over the boxers hand job. My eyes shut as I tried to block the sensations from overwhelming me. A damp spot was beginning to form on the cotton as he finally pulled them off, freeing my dick from its prison.
"Quite a weapon you have here." He said, as he pulled his boxers off as well, revealing the rest of himself to me.
"Yours is formidable as well. . . sir." Roughly equivalent to my own 7 inches, it was pale with a deep pink head. I moistened my lips thinking about how it would taste, how it would feel in me.
He teasingly stroked it in front of me before he leaned over and began to suck me. Slowly at first, licking up and down my shaft, teasing me by following the veins on the underside while his hand gripped the base.
He established a careful, thorough rhythm that slowly pushed me toward the edge. Just as I was about to cum, he pulled off of me.
He moved up and unbuckled the straps, releasing my hands from the headboard. He massaged them tenderly, making sure that the circulation was restored to them.
I looked up at him. "Sir?"
He smiled down at me. "Turn around and grip the headboard."
I complied as he moved to the foot of the bed. He spread my legs slightly, exposing my ass to him. He began to rub around it, before slipping a wet finger inside my hole. The feeling wasn't bad, only different.
Another finger soon joined the first one embedded in my ass. There was a little pain, but his other hand soon wrapped around my cock and began to slowly stroke it, creating a heady mix of pain and pleasure for me. His fingers crooked and found that sweet spot in me that made me buck against him.
I groaned as he added yet another finger, stretching me as he continued to fuck me with his fingers. Any thoughts of resisting had long fled me, leaving me an incoherent mess as the dual sensations emanating from my ass and cock began to overwhelm me.
Kurt slowly extracted his fingers from my hole, leaving me with an empty feeling there. I groaned at the loss of contact, looking back at him. He was busy sliding a condom over his leaking dick. He winked at me as he began to position himself in front of me. He rubbed some lube on his condom covered cock and slowly eased his way in.
He stayed still, letting me adjust to the feeling of his thick cock buried to the hilt inside of me. His hand caressed my cock back into stiffness, while his other hand rubbed my lower back. I pushed back against him as a signal that he could begin fucking me in earnest.
His hips began to roll, slowly thrusting against me. He began to up the tempo of his thrusts, his dick filling me up. He found that spot that he had previously located with his fingers, making me moan in response. His hands gripped my waist as he continued to thrust into me, passing over that spot with nearly every thrust. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed with pleasure, my leaking cock rubbing up against the sheets creating delicious friction.
I couldn't reach my aching cock because I was using my hands to brace myself as Kurt thrust into me. Luckily, he had mercy on me, reaching around to stroke me in tune to his thrusts. A few strokes and I was shooting into his hand and on the sheets as a powerful orgasm ripped through my body. My hands failed me and I fell forward, my ass still up in the air as Kurt continued his thrusting.
A few more thrusts and Kurt came, I could feel the blasts of cum through the condom. He fell forward onto me, kissing the area between my shoulder blades and the back of my neck. "So good, so good." he repeated like a mantra.
My abs were splattered with a liberal dose of my cum as I came down from the fantasy in my mind. I continued stroking myself through the orgasm, milking my cock for all it was worth.
I hopped up from the bed and went to the bathroom, to wash up. I didn't really care to reflect on my thoughts, so I didn't. I thought instead of other things, like whether or not the Office would get renewed for a 9th season, or what basketball team would win March Madness.
I showered quickly, and toweled off, going back to my room to throw on some boxers and sweats before letting sleep claim me.
QuinnPOV Tuesday afternoon
I looked at the roses that the flower delivery person had delivered this morning that were sitting in an unadorned vase on my desk. The cliched, easy gift that many a husband or boyfriend gave many a wife or girlfriend on this day of all days.
I shook my head, clearing the ungenerous thoughts that were clinging to my mind like cobwebs, threatening to distort my thought processes, as I attempted to refocus on the practice round going on in front of me.
The timer slowly cycled down to zero, Sebastian had covered enough of the spread that Bernard Peters and Jeff Lynch had put in the Negative block, as well as extending the Kritik that Stacy Evans had put out new in the affirmative constructive that she had given.
Bernard smiled up at me. "I'd like the rest of our prep time please." I started the timer and let him prepare for his speech. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and parting it as he twirled his pen in his other hand while looking over his notes. He was the polar opposite of Sebastian Smythe. Shorter, chubby (fat), but undeniably brilliant when he wanted to be. Had a tendency to use the phrase "That's what she said." at any opportunity.
I looked over the pieces of paper spread out in front of me. I had a reasonably good idea of what he was going to go for.
He got up, ponderously, and rolled his shoulders producing a couple of distinct cracks. "mmmm." Bernard said as he made his way to the podium.
"Alright, we'll start with extra t, before moving to the kritik and then the federalism position, before wrapping up with politics. Everyone ready?" He grinned like a shark.
We arranged our papers accordingly, as he launched into his rebuttal.
"Off the top on xtra t, Sebastian makes a couple of key errors on the position. He never sufficiently responds to the argument that Jeff and I are putting forth in the block, namely that Stacy doesn't sever out of the position that their case interpretation extends marriage rights to everyone, not just gay people. Stacy instead gets in a huff and attempts to critique our position. We'll address the kritik in due time. We note that the resolution indicates that the USFG needs to enact a policy to support gay marriage. I grant that they do this through their plan of action, but they also open the door to other forms of marriage as well. This is abusive to us because it unfairly expands our research burden as well as skewing us out of our ground. We have the right to do more than the resolution asks us to do."
He inhaled and exhaled. "Moving on to the K. Stacy tells you that we're dehumanizing gay people by comparing the allowance of gay marriage to bestiality, etc. While it's admirable that Stacy would stoop to the level of comparing Jeff and myself to Senator Rick Santorum, the K is on it's face fundamentally flawed. The first reason you're not voting for this position is that Jeff and I never make any kind of equivocation on this position. What we say is that when you utilize a 9th amendment interpretation to extend marriage rights to gay people, you necessarily do an end run around the states ability to regulate marriage. We'll cover that more on the federalism position below."
Another deep breath. "Now to federalism. Our thesis is that the states have the right to regulate marriage. They issue licenses for instance. This indicates a preexisting interest by the states in regulating marriage, meaning that the 9th amendment should not apply here. Ultimately you ought to prefer a solution that respects the wishes of the inhabitants of each state. Some states will retain the notion that marriage ought to be the exclusive province of a man and a woman. Other states may allow marriage between two women, or two men. We shouldn't impose a top down solution by the federal government that will leave residents of many states unsatisfied."
He shifted on his feet. "That's actually a good transition to politics. We tell you that there are people who would be irritated by the court decision that the affirmative wishes to push through. These people vote, and are likely to punish the government in power. Stacy turns this position by pointing to the growing support of gay marriage across different sectors. Jeff responds to that by having you look to intensity of support. When you look at previous decisions on the scope of this, you see that Roe, for instance, created the Moral Majority. Sebastian responds by pulling through Stacy's analysis and responding with the notion that people who support gay marriage are more likely to support the President. Further, he responds defensively by indicating that there's not much difference between Obama and Romney on the issues. So, Sebastian essentially shoots himself in the foot when he extends Stacy's turn, but then doesn't articulate why we should prefer re electing the President over electing a cyborg from Massachusetts."
The stop watch beeped. "That's time. Do you need prep, Stacy?"
"I'm good." She said as she grabbed her notes and walked up to the podium. She had a steely glint in her eyes that reminded me of myself, back in those days.
"The order is going to be politics, federalism, kritik, and T. Everyone ready?"
We shuffled our papers to reflect the change in order.
"First on politics, Bernard makes an error here when he confesses that "there's not much difference between Obama and Romney." There may not be much, as both are milquetoasts, but there are policy differences between the two of them. I would note that Obama did decide to support repeal of Don't ask, Romney favors the policy, at least for the moment. I would argue that right there is an important policy distinction between the two of them, and an argument for reelecting the President."
"On to federalism. There's no clearly articulated implication of why top down solutions from the federal government are bad, except for the implications on politics, which we've already dealt with. Frankly, I'm well past caring what a bunch of bigots in Nebraska, South Carolina, and Alabama think. I say force it down their throats and make them go to every gay wedding and watch. Maybe then they'll realize that there is no gay agenda, but the notion that they should be allowed to marry the person that they love and have the rights that are accorded to everyone else."
She sighed audibly. "I'm kicking the Kritik. They didn't put anything offensive on it, so there's no reason to vote against us on account of it. On to the Xtra T position. First, they don't ever articulate how their research burden has been expanded. They merely assert that it has. Second, they don't articulate an abuse claim that actually works because Sebastian and I never claim any advantages from the supposed expansion of marriage rights to other people that they postulate occurs from the passage of our plan. In short, the only reason they give you to vote on Topicality are claims of ground. They don't give you a jurisdictional claim, or even a rules claim to go on."
"You can extend case since Bernard and Jeff spend the entirety of their time on their off case positions. To sum up, we turn the politics disadvantage to our favor by pointing out crucial policy differences between President Obama and Governor Romney. Next, the negative team never clearly articulates any impact to federalism that would possibly outweigh the advantages of extending basic equality to GLBT couples. Lastly, there's no offense on their answers to my kritik, and there's no good reason for you to vote on topicality. I urge a vote for the affirmative."
Stacy gathered her papers and sat down with Sebastian. I pinched the bridge of my nose for a moment, looking over the sea of ink across multiple pages of paper.
"If I had to vote I would vote for the neg on T. It's the easiest way out. I think the way the case is structured leaves you susceptible to this line of attack. Your plan of action seems to call for deregulating marriage across the board. So, while you don't claim advantages from allowing non glbt couples to marry, I do ultimately buy their argument that this does skew them out of their ground, namely doing more than the resolution requires of you."
"Though, Bernard, I would caution going so strongly for T. Some judges have a high threshold for voting for it, and you need to articulate a rules based voting issue on the bottom of the position. Stacy also beats you on politics. You need to be more careful in parsing things. You shouldn't make a declarative statement saying that there's no difference between Romney and Obama, because there are fairly substantive differences, depending on who Mitt Romney is talking to."
"Ultimately, though, I think the problem here is execution. Bernard, you need someone to push you. Jeff isn't doing that. Sebastian, you need someone who you can work better with. Stacy isn't that person. So, it seems to me that Bernard and Stacy should be a team, and you and Jeff should be a team. I'll change the registration form for this weekend accordingly."
I got up, packing my things. "Also, I won't be able to be there this weekend. You guys will need a chaperone for the tournament. Stacy, can your parents do it?"
"No, they're out of town this weekend. Dad has a seminar in Kansas City. My brother might be able to, I'll give him a call, and let you know."
I really wanted a cigarette. "Sounds good Stacy. You guys are free to go."
They left the room, discussing their new partnerships. It was an odd decision, going for a change up so close to the national qualifying tournament, but I had a good feeling.
My phone rang. Reaching inside my bag, I fished it out and answered it. "Hello?"
"Ms. Hudson, this is Trent Carlson." Chairman of the Douglas County Republican party.
"Yes, Trent. Good to hear back from you. I assume we're on for the meeting tomorrow?"
"About that. There's another prospective candidate who's asked for a meeting with us as well. Wednesday works for him too, and we decided it's best to have a meeting of the minds, so to speak."
I frowned at the phone. "Who is the other candidate?"
Trent paused. "Mr. Carlson?"
"Quinn, it's Burt Hummel."