When the door whooshed open, Elsie was deep in a fantasy involving the man in the hall. His hands were running down her hips, curving around her bottom and squeezing gently, just about to- when the presence of another person snapped her from the daydream. Assuming it was her green professor, she turned to aim a hearty glare at the man who dared to be twenty minutes late. As she turned, the face of her imaginary daydream lover brought her up quick and her expression registered complete shock. His face looked much like hers, jaw dropped and slight disbelief reflected in his eyes.
It took him a few seconds to recover, but once he had gathered his wits, Charles closed his mouth and swallowed. Taking a step forward, he held out his hand in a feeble gesture of greeting. The look she gave him had him snatching his hand back in chagrin, and, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of himself further, he just stood there, once again feeling like a complete idiot in this woman's presence.
She cleared her throat and said sarcastically, "Why Dr. Carson, what a pleasure this is." Realizing her comment had sounded nothing like she intended, Elsie blushed immediately and then backtracked in an attempt to remedy her mistake, snapping at him in her embarrassment. "I mean, it's nice of you to finally join me. Twenty…one? Minutes late I see." She gazed pointedly at the clock on the wall.
Charles fought the urge to smile. He lost, and somewhat of a wicked grin crossed his lips, which was apparently the absolute wrong reaction. She immediately puffed up and slapped his file on the table next to her.
"Dr. Carson. I am going to offer you the first piece of advice you will receive here at this establishment." She paused for effect and Charles smiled harder. He just couldn't help himself. She narrowed her eyes and steepled her long, delicate fingers in front of her as she stepped closer to him. In a grave tone she said, "As a new member of the faculty, it is in your best interest not to embarrass the tenured staff. Or simply piss us off. And, congratulations, you have managed both in the first hour of your first day." Charles understood that their earlier encounter had shaken her. Not really expecting that particular reaction from a woman of her confidence, Charles lost his smirk and cleared his throat. He was not, and would not become, an immature character in this play. Realizing that the first real piece of advice he had gotten at this "establishment" had come from the receptionist, he heeded her words and began to apologize.
"Ms. Hughes, I do not know how to begin. I am truly sorry for the uh- er- rather embarrassing circumstances in which we first met. And also, I apologize for my incredible lack of decorum in dealing with my discourteous tardiness. I am sincerely sorry." Her face showed absolutely nothing. She was completely stoic and intimidating as hell. He suddenly felt parched and a bit afraid, which almost caused him to laugh aloud. He had never felt so out of control! And all she had to do was set those fiery blue eyes on him.
"It's Dr. Hughes. And please, do not mention our… encounter. No need to bring it up again. Come along then, we have quite a lot to cover and now, thanks to you, we have even less time in which to do so." She snatched his file from the table and whisked past him out of the room. She smelled incredible, and it took a great amount of concentration for him to gather his wits and follow her. The receptionist smiled at him in that apologetic way once again, and he felt even more bemused by the entire situation.
She led him from the conference area into one of the long, brightly lit corridors of the university. Her heels clicked decisively on the grey marble floors. He exerted some effort in stopping himself from dwelling on their earlier encounter. This was ridiculous and he was an adult. He yelled at himself internally, and it worked, too. That was, until his eyes glanced across her perfectly round, swaying bottom. He dropped his notebook then, and she stopped abruptly and turned on her heel.
"Dr. Carson, if this type of clumsiness is part of your daily life, I suggest you either visit a doctor or find a way to fix it. At least in my presence." With that sharp reprimand, she turned away and continued down the hall. Charles just shook his head and grabbed the notebook, his eyes never leaving her hips.
An hour later, Dr. Hughes had shown Charles the campus grounds and all of the professor's quarters, and she had given him a tour of the modern science chemistry lab. It was an exceptionally well-funded, state of the art lab that all of the chemistry and biology departments used jointly. Charles was very impressed. And not only with the lab. His brain had basically refused all function that did not involve a fantasy about the woman in front of him. His thoughts were tormenting his every move, and it took all he had just to regurgitate the information she was spitting at him. He felt a bit light-headed and thought derisively that all the blood in his body had gone elsewhere. Once, she had taken him into a supply closet to show him where the more hazardous chemicals were held. He had brushed up against her and practically moaned aloud. The looks she kept shooting him told him that he wasn't keeping it together very well. If he didn't knock it off, he might be fired before the end of his very first day.
Back at his classroom she stopped and said, "Well, I believe that is everything relevant, Dr. Carson. Do you have any questions?"
Charles looked into her eyes. The words were out of his mouth before he could blink. "Yes. What are your dinner plans? I am sorry, Dr. Hughes, but I have been completely unable to take my eyes off of you this entire time. I would love to take you out sometime." He was mentally punching himself now, and the thoughts running through his head were giving him a mighty headache. He was calling himself all of the worst names he could come up with.
Her face said it all. Her cheeks flushed a deep red and she pursed her lips. She took a deep breath, and Charles prepared himself for her lashing. "I don't know what game you think you are playing here, Dr. Carson, but I will not have any part of it! You are here to teach. If you think you are going to make a fool out of me you are sorely mistaken. One more step out of line and I will report you." She turned and marched through the door letting it slam behind her. He felt as if she'd slapped him. Hell, maybe she had. His mind was so out of whack that he had to sit down for a moment. His head hit the wooden desk in seconds.
It was only later, when he woke up at the desk, that he realized someone had drugged him. The man sat in shadow at the other end of the room. When Charles was able to think again, he swallowed and said to the figure, "What do you want?" The figure chuckled, then stood and strolled towards Charles. The man stopped in a small sliver of light coming in through the window. It must have been dark out already, because everything was shadowed except for that spot. Charles looked up to see Thomas staring down at him.
"This was just a test run, Charles. You failed. It was so easy to get to you. For them it will be even easier, and much, much worse." Thomas walked the rest of the way to Charles and bent over the desk, placing his face centimeters from Charles's. "Get your shit together, Charles. Or you are done here. This is the only chance you will get. After this, I am turning you loose. Think about what you want. Now get the fuck up and control yourself." Thomas slapped Charles in the face. Charles was out of his seat and in an instant he had Thomas pinned against the wall.
"I have control, Thomas. But thanks to your stunt I might not have a job. She thinks I'm a psychopath or something. You're a fucking asshole drugging me like that. I know what they are capable of, damn it. You know I do." Charles released Thomas from his hold. Thomas spat a bit of blood onto the floor.
"One more fuck up Charles. One more. I will be in touch." Thomas left silently out of the classroom door as Charles ran his hands over his face. Holy shit, talk about a hell of a first day.
Elsie made it to her office before her hands began to shake. She wasn't sure what the hell was wrong with this Professor Carson, but he certainly shook her up.
"Knock knock! It's your favorite red head!" Beryl Patmore, Elsie's best friend and fellow professor, popped her head in Elsie's office door. Elsie smiled.
"Hello lady. How have you been today?"
"Oh I'm doing very well. I heard some juicy gossip today…"
Elsie put her face in her hands and mumbled through her fingers, "It wouldn't have anything to do with me, would it?"
Beryl squealed and said, "Of course it does! That receptionist in the office, Ethel, she's quite the gossip! She told me all about you two and your orientation session with him. News travels fast around here!"
"That's wretched of her! And what does she know anyhow? We were all over the building today! And besides, he's strange if you ask me." Beryl's face fell a little, so Elsie added, "And what would he want with someone like me anyway?"
"Woman! Give yourself some credit, you gorgeous thing. He wants exactly what you think he wants!"
"Oh this is terrible! Absolutely out of the question. Dear God…"
"ELSIE! This is fantastic! Why aren't you jumping for joy woman! That man is one sexy beast. And he wants you. Grr…"
Elsie blushed deeply. "Really Beryl, sometimes I just don't know what to do with you. And he only 'wants' me because he thinks that flattery will put him back in my good graces."
"Well it would out him in my good graces… and lots of other places…"
"Beryl! Do you have any shame?"
Beryl simply smiled wickedly. "No my dear, I don't believe I do. Now, are we going out tonight?"
It was their Thursday routine. "Thirsty Thursday" as Beryl liked to call it. They had one regular place, Ruby's, and John the owner/bartender had been serving them drinks since they had started their weekly tradition fifteen years before. Last week they'd had to cancel. Beryl's husband Bill had been sick with the flu. So this week, they were due for a doozy.
"Why not Ruby's? We haven't been there in a few weeks. Plus it's close. I'm not up for a long drive."
Beryl smiled. "Man got you all flustered. Ah, alright. But if he comes in looking like that…" Elsie reached across her desk and swatted at Beryl's hands. "Stop it you ridiculous woman."
Beryl laughed again and stood to leave. "Well, my dear, I will be back here in an hour to escort your fabulous self to the bar. Be ready!" Elsie waved her crazy friend away and leaned forward in her chair. Propping her elbows and resting her head on her entwined fingers, Elsie thought of the new professor's incredibly odd behavior. What he would be like as a professor worried her, but despite her professional concerns, the thought she wanted so desperately to erase from her mind kept biting at her. Dr. Charles Carson had certainly made an impression. His smell and the way his dark eyes had devoured her flashed through her mind, and she immediately stood and began shuffling her papers.
Three hours later, and a few too many drinks in, Elsie and Beryl laughed happily in a booth at Ruby's. Beryl was telling ridiculous stories of her failed romances before she met Bill, and Elsie was fascinated and a bit grateful that her dating life had been a rocking success in comparison. Beryl was such a riot, and Elsie couldn't figure out why so many people seemed to be glancing their way. It wasn't long before Elsie was telling stories, although hers were more embarrassing than funny, but at this point it didn't seem to matter. Beryl was laughing and that was good enough for Elsie.
After a few hours, the drug had worn off and Charles was feeling desperate for a drink. He felt whipped, and rather pissed that his guard had been so easily overcome. Ruby's was close to the university, and it looked friendly and welcoming compared to the bars he was accustomed to. He decided to walk, and he was thankful he did. The cool, brisk air helped clear his head. The bartender's name was John, and he looked exactly like a bartender should. He was a big man with a dark look about him. But he was friendly when Charles ordered a double scotch on the rocks. Charles liked the place right away. Ruby's was well lit, but not too bright, and it had lots of pictures of friends and families who had stopped in over the years. Charles was examining some of the older pictures hung above the bar, when he noticed a very familiar, albeit younger, face. Dr. Elsie Hughes and a bright redheaded woman posed like Charlie's Angels with John between them. The most shocking part, however, was not what they were doing, but what they were wearing. Or rather, what they were NOT wearing. Elsie's dress was so short that a few inches more and her garter would have been visible. Not only that, but there was no back to the skimpy red dress, and that also told him she wasn't wearing a bra. Holy hell, Charles thought. She was a closet bombshell. And the redhead in the picture with her, she was also quite pretty. She was wearing more clothing, but not much. Her halter-top and skirt covered a fraction more than the outfit Elsie wore. It was clear that the ladies were drunk when the picture was taken, but they certainly looked happy to be there. Charles couldn't help himself; he stood on the rung on his barstool and snatched the picture from behind the bar. John saw him and sidled over.
"What do you have there?" Charles handed John the photo, and John held it up to look at it then laughed jovially. "That's Elsie the Hell-Raiser and her sidekick Beryl the Marauder. Those two have been coming here for years. Hell of a lot of trouble they were, back in the day. Just a little loud these days…" John pointed with the photo to a booth in the corner of the bar where Elsie The Hell-Raiser and Beryl the Marauder sat, laughing riotously at some very funny joke. Charles's jaw dropped. Elsie was sloshed, and she leaned up against the side of the booth laughing hysterically. Her friend was apparently saying something so funny that Elsie couldn't open her eyes for how hard she was laughing.
Charles could not help himself. "Hey, John. Why don't you send a round for the ladies on me. And… will you just tell them I said sorry? They'll understand." John chuckled and flipped two glasses over. "It's not like they need another, but hey, they've been regulars for as long as I've owned the place. And I haven't seen them take off their skirts in years…" John finished pouring the whiskey and laughed merrily as he took them their drinks.
"…And then the strangest thing happened- he said 'I haven't got a bloody vase, the maid used it for the milk!'" Beryl snorted and spit a little on the table. Elsie was laughing equally as hard, and at that moment John sidled up to their booth, two fresh drinks in hand.
"I'm glad to see you ladies enjoying yourselves! These drinks are on that gentleman over there. He told me to say that he's sorry. Don't have too much fun girls…" And he walked away. Elsie stared at the liquor for a moment, and her head snapped up when Beryl gasped and grabbed her hand. "Oh my goodness- Elsie- look at that man! He's that sexy professor! The one you don't like!"
As drunk as she was, Elsie knew Beryl had been rather loud. Flushing deep scarlet, Elsie dared a peak over her shoulder to look at Charles Carson. He smiled and shook his head, and raised his glass to them before downing the whole thing. Elsie whipped her head around as he stood. Before she could do anything, Beryl was shouting at Charles. "Hey, hey mister! Why don't you come join us! We are a lot of fun!"
Elsie squeezed Beryl's hand. "Why woman?! That is not a good idea! I don't want to share drinks with him you idiot!" But it was too late, Dr. Carson was standing next to Elsie, and before she could help herself, she turned her head to look at him and got an eyeful of his groin. Blushing ever redder, Elsie just turned away silently as Beryl invited him to sit.
"Elsie! Move over woman and let the man sit down. He's had a rough first day, haven't you now?"
Charles was more than slightly amused at the two women. Beryl was obviously a flirt, and an adorable one at that. However, her wedding ring and the way she avoided sitting next to him let him know that she was loyal to her husband, no matter how flirtatious she might be. Elsie on the other hand wanted nothing to do with him. Her face was turned towards the wall of the booth and she was blushing to her roots. Charles smiled his best smiled and slid into the booth next to her. Elsie grabbed her drink from in front of him before he could push it her way. She made herself as small as possible and kept shooting dagger looks at Beryl.
Beryl was either oblivious or did not care, because she began to make the situation even more awkward.
"So, Dr. Carson, is that right? I hear you met my best friend in a rather… strange way this morning."
Charles laughed a bit nervously, and said "Yes, unfortunately I was quite the klutz this morning and I ran right into her. I don't think she's forgiven me yet." Charles paused and while Beryl began another round of drunken questions, he whispered quietly to Elsie, "And you probably shouldn't, because I would do it again if I had the opportunity." Elsie's head shot up so fast that Charles reacted on instinct and raised his hand to block, knocking over her glass in the process. He cursed under his breath "I'm sorry ladies, I am just cursed with clumsiness." Much to his surprise, his newest act of idiocy seemed to break Elsie's steely exterior. That or the alcohol he mused. She laughed and grabbed a napkin to mop up the whiskey. She was so different when she laughed, Charles thought to himself. Her entire face brightened and her beautiful purple-blue eyes lit up. Charles's breath caught in his throat, and before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed her face and pressed his mouth to hers. She resisted at first, but in seconds it was like she melted in his hands. Her lips formed to his, and her hands pressed against his as he gently held her face. He had no idea how long they were under, but when they finally came up for air, Beryl had disappeared. Somewhere across the bar, he heard John let out a catcall whistle and he smiled. Elsie was breathing fast and shallow, and Charles still held her face. He pressed his forehead to hers and just held her still for a few moments. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, ashamed at his reckless behavior once again. Elsie seemed to be composing herself, and she pushed his hands away. Grabbing her half empty glass of whiskey, she downed it and slapped the glass back on the table.
"I have to go, please." She said the words without looking him in the eye. Her face was redder than it had been before, and her voice shook a little. Charles silently slid from the booth, and Elsie slid past him and rushed out of the bar. He tossed a twenty down on the table, and another ten for a tip, waved at John and followed her out the doors.
She was halfway across the field when he made it outside into the cold air. She was moving quickly, but not smoothly. He guessed she'd had way too much to drink, and he didn't want to leave her ambling across the university lawn to be discovered in the morning. Cursing, he started jogging towards her. As he reached her, he heard deep racking sobs coming from her chest. She had her shoes in one hand and her coat and purse in the other. She was unsteady on her feet, and when she noticed him coming up next to her, she yelped and tripped and fell to the ground.
Charles dropped down on his knees beside her, but she was curled into a ball and still crying. "Elsie, Elsie it's just me, Charles ok? Can I help you to your car or your office? Is there someone I can call?"
Elsie sobbed to herself, but there were words he could barely make out in there with the tears. She said, "I'm all alone! There's no one. Don't bother, just leave me here to die. Pathetic, lonely. Oh God." She cried harder. Charles, always a man of action, decided enough was enough. He grabbed her then, and threw her over his shoulder. As he walked her to his truck parked at the university, she stopped crying and began asking him questions. "Where am I? What are we doing here? Are we lovers?" And then, "God I feel so sick…" Charles was at his truck, so he set her down on the tailgate just as she decided to vomit. He held her hair as she was sick, and then when she finished he helped her into the cab. She was shivering, so he pulled his jacket off and laid it over her as she slumped down onto the seat.
What was he supposed to do with her now? Suddenly, he remembered his file. He grabbed it from under the seat and pulled out her letterhead, on which she had included her home phone number. He punched the number into his phone and waited for a response. In a moment, a message came through with an address and a hyperlink to a map. Charles got his bearings, and climbed in his truck, setting off in the direction indicated by the map.