A/N: Hello all This chapter is going to introduce some "new" perspectives. I thought it was time to get Paul Spector's take on all of this. Hopefully it doesnt backfire! As always please let me know what you think what youd like to see/ etc :) Thank you!

Saturday Morning

Paul Spector raised his chin as he regarded himself in the bathroom mirror. His grey eyes stared back at him calculatingly, he tilted his head from side to side, clenching and unclenching his jaw, stroking his beard. Deciding he liked what he saw, he nodded to his reflection and exited the ensuite. He grabbed his satchel and slung it over his shoulder and strode for the front door with purpose. He had business to attend to and he hated to be late.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" He was stopped right before exiting by his daughter. He cursed inwardly before turning on his "Daddy" smile and turning to the bubbly little girl. He dropped his satchel next to him on the floor and dropped to a knee to embrace his rapidly charging daughter.

"Good morning, Olivia!" He greeted the girl warmly, patting his knee for her to take a seat. She happily obliged.

"Daddy, where are you going? Mommy said we were all going to the park and then the cons- con-serva, conser-

"Conservatory."Paul supplied patiently.

"Consertory. Mommy said we were all going to the Consertory today!"

Paul looked up from where he knelt on the floor with his daughter to see the disapproving look on his wife, Sally's face. She was wearing her robe still and held a spatula in her crossed arms. She'd yet to shower, he could tell from the way her frizzy, blonde hair stuck out at odd angles, and she

"Going somewhere Paul?" She asked in that sickeningly innocent voice she used when she knew he knew she wasn't going to like his answer.

"Yes. I'm afraid I've a client meeting."

"But it's Saturday." Sally protested.

"Please Daddy? Please come with Mommy and Liam and me to the Consertory? Please?"

"I can't sweetheart, Daddy has a very important meeting he must help a very sick lady today." He looked up at his wife again, who was still glowering at him.

"I'm sorry Sally. It was totally last minute. Emergency therapy session. A woman who's been seeing me a couple times a week. Her husband's well…"He looked at his daughter, then back to his wife, conveying his meaning with his eyes. "He's not a very nice man. And he didn't know she was going to therapy. Turns out they had quite the row last night. He was arrested. Now he's coming home, but she has asked me to be there, to help the…transition."

Sally's glowering look immediately turned to one of sympathy and she clutched her robe tighter against her self.

"Oh that poor thing. I'm sorry Paul. You go. I'll take the kids today. You'll be home for dinner?" Paul gave her a smile. He stood, setting his daughter back down on her feet, and brushed forward to kiss Sally on the cheek.

"I'll be home for dinner." He promised, picking up his satchel and exiting out the front door before any more delays could present themselves. He checked his watch. Damn. Now he was going to be late. He hated being late.

Paul Spector made sure his black hoodie was up and over his head as he entered the seedy hotel. It was the kind of place you could rent hourly – and he had an arrangement with the owner. He rented room 106 on a weekly basis, had been for some time now, and room 106 was increasingly feeling like home; much more like home than that cheap colonial he rented with Sally and the children. He turned the key in the latch and entered his oasis.

She was already there, of course, waiting for him, her dark hair pulled up into a pony-tail. It was Saturday so she was not wearing her school uniform but she still tried to look alluring in a black mini skirt and a purple off-the shoulder top that she cinched at her waist with a wide black belt. Her dark eyes regarded him with amusement and he scowled at her. Little Katie Benedetto. She wanted him to want her so badly it was almost sad. He thought she might even be happy if he killed her. But he had no desire to kill her. That would be a waste of a perfectly good tool.

"You're late." She quipped, sitting up on the grungy-looking bed and kicking her legs out before crossing them. Her mannerisms were so young. She thought she was so mature. She was a stupid, little fool, barely 17, just a little girl playing at things she did not really understand.

"And you did not do what I told you to do. Did you?" He snapped back. She had the decency to look contrite.

"I tried. I did everything you told me to. The woman you told me about? Elena? I went to her. Let her test me out. She thought I was perfect. I did everything right. It's not my fault he wasn't interested." She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Paul knew she was right. It was not Katie's fault Christian Grey did not want her. Had she been introduced to the CEO even a week or two earlier she may have even managed to get herself contracted with him. But that had not played out like he'd planned. Miss Anastasia Steele had gotten in the way. And now Christian only seemed to have eyes for her. Paul could not blame the man for that. Ana truly was perfect. The way she spoke, the way she moved, the way she wobbled when she was intoxicated, the way she blushed so prettily, the way she cried. He knew Christian saw it too, how could the man not? Paul had big plans for Anastasia. Still, Paul would not let Katie know he didn't blame her for her failure.

"Well, you should have tried harder then." He all but growled at her, giving her one of his heated glares, the kind he knew both frightened and excited her. The kind that made her want to please him all the more. Katie Benedetto had been a happy accident. She had initially just been his babysitter, his wife had hired her. She'd been a nuisance. But she had taken a shine to him, flirted with him, made her interest known. And she had lied for him, covered for him. She knew what he was, and she liked it; stupid little fool.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, looking up at him prettily. She wanted so badly to please him. He made a show of sighing dramatically.

"I want you to stay close to Elena Lincoln for now. Stay on her good side. She likes people she can control. Make her think she can control you. Do you think you can do that?" If she was confused at all, she didn't show it.

Katie nodded. He smirked.

"Good."

Sunday Morning

Anastasia Steele scowled at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess. No matter how much she brushed and attempted to style it, it just refused to do anything but fall in messy waves past her shoulders. She was nervous. She'd agreed to meet Christian at the coffee shop near her new apartment at his request after she'd thanked him for the champagne and welcome-balloon. She tried to tell herself that she was just doing the polite thing, that she wasn't excited to see the Greek god of a man again, but she knew she was lying to herself. She'd dreamt of him, of his red room. She'd woken up wet, a completely foreign experience for her. Hard as she tried, Ana could not seem to write the man off. She wanted him. And so, having her hair absolutely refuse to cooperate was frustrating the hell out of her. She checked her watch. She had promised to meet him at 10:30 that morning. It was already nearing 10:15. If shed didn't hurry she was going to be late. And she knew how punctual Christian Grey liked to be. Giving up on her hair, she turned her attention to the rest of her physical appearance. She was wearing a yellow and blue sun dress and a pair of tan sandals. It was a nice day out and she wanted to take advantage of the sun. Decididing her appearance was as good as it was going to get, Ana grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

...-

Christian Grey saw Anastasia before she saw him. He'd been sitting in the café, awaiting her arrival, for about fifteen minutes when she appeared. She looked like she was rushed, her hair a bit of a wavy mess, her face flushed. She wore a pretty, demure sun dress and Christian felt the blood threatening to go to his groin. He wanted to rip that dress off of her. But he kept himself composed. He counted himself lucky that she'd agreed to see him at all. He needed to respect her boundaries at this juncture. She looked around and he caught her attention with a small wave. She nodded to him and headed over to the corner table. He stood when she approached and waited for her to take her seat before he returned to his. He'd taken the liberty of ordering for them while he'd waited. Sitting on the table was his latte as well as Anastasia's preferred English breakfast tea, bag out, and an assortment of pastries, yoghurt and granola. She eyed the food warily as she sat.

"Have you eaten this morning, Anastasia?" He asked, leaning forward and taking a sip of his latte while he awaited her reply. She shook her head in the negative and he gestured to the pastries. "Help yourself, "

She picked up a croissant and put it on her plate but did not move to eat yet, instead tending to her tea. She looked….nervous, somehow, and Christian did not understand how on earth that could be. He was the nervous one, he was the one who needed to convince her to give him a second chance. He was the one that constantly had to remind himself to behave while in her presence. After a moment of prolonged silence she finally spoke.

"It was an um…really beautiful card, you sent. Christian." She looked down at her croissant, picking at it. Her eating habits were wasteful. It annoyed him. But he bit is tongue.

"I meant what I said, Anastasia. I hope there is a place for me in your future. I…am…used to getting what I want…" At her quirked eyebrow, he continued "I mean…I see what I want. And I go after it. I move quickly. One has to move quickly if one is going to be successful in the business world. But with you I am afraid I moved too quickly. And I made some assumptions I should not have made. I am sorry for that Anastasia." He apologized. And he meant it. He had been too rushed before.

"Assumptions?" Anastasia asked, her big blue eyes looking directly at him. It was unnerving, the way her eyes managed to bore into him. She held his eye contact and he wished he could demand she avert her gaze.

"Yes." Christian affirmed, though he stubbornly refused to elaborate. Anastasia was a smart girl, she must have had some idea as to the assumptions he'd made when broaching the topic of the contract with her at his home after graduation. "I made a judgement error, and I fear I hurt you, and for that I am sorry.:

Anastasia seemed to be taking his words in, nodding slowly as she sipped her tea.

"I suppose..." She began slowly, "I suppose that I made some assumptions as well." She aquiesced.

"Oh?" Christian prompted. She nodded.

"Yes...I...Well I didnt let you explain things very well. I was just so shocked. But I did some research after I got home. And I guess I sort of get it..." She was tugging at her hair and it was adorable. She looked like she was embarassed. Christian was awed.

"You did research? On BDSM?" He had been planning to tell her to do just that before she ran out of the room. She was still a virgin. By all rights she had every reason to stay as far away from him as possible. And yet she had agreed to coffee with him, and she had begun to research what he'd shown her of her own accord. She was perfect.

"Yes.." She said slowly. "And I do sort of understand the reasons people like it...I just...I dont think it's for me." She looked down. She was trying to let him down easy. He had to stop her.

"What is for you, Anastasia?" He asked. She blinked at him as if he'd grown a second head. She shrugged and threw her hands up almost in exasperation.

"I don't know, Christian. I... normal things I guess - Dates. Movies, dinner, dancing, that sort of thing. Just normal relationship-y stuff I guess." Christian's lip twitched in a repressed smile.

"Relationship-y?" He grinned full on at her flustered appearance. She rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean." She smiled a little in return.

"I told you, I dont do relationships, Anastasia." He replied, in all seriousness now, the smile vanishing as fast as it had appeared.

"I dont think I can do...erm... contracts." She replied, her blue eyes imploring him earnestly. It made his heart feel like it was constricting in his chest when she looked at him like that. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He was a killer negotiator, perhaps he should negotiate with her on this.

"May I propose something?" He asked. He was going to make his proposal regardless, but he asked out of social courtesy more than anything. She nodded, looking a little wary at his sudden shift in demeanor. He was adopting his professional CEO mask now, it ususally got him what he wanted.

"Perhaps we can find some kind of compromise, Ana. " He shortened her name, he knew she prefered it even as he preferred her full name, he hoped the subtle shift would endear him to her a little more. "I would like you to read my contract. The one i have had my submissives sign in the past, with an open mind. And I would like you to discuss it with me in an open manner, remembering that everything listed is negotiable as a hard or soft limit. And in return, I could...try some of those relationship-y things. Dates.. Dinner... dancing. In doing so perhaps we could find some kind of middle ground."

He watched her mulling over his proposal. What was he doing? He didnt do dates. He didnt do any of the things he said he would try, and he did not negotiate with submissives. But Ana was not his submissive. and he found that the idea of spending time with Ana, whether in date form or not, sounded more and more appealing. And perhaps if he spent more time with her, he could convince her that his way was best for both of them.

"Is it a deal?" He prompted, watching the shy smile form on her full, pink lips.

"You'll try?" She asked. biting that beautiful lower lip of hers. Christian forced himself to look away from that bitable lip and shifted his gaze to her eyes.

"I will try." He promised.

"I will try, too." She agreed.

He resisted the urge to drag her up onto the coffee shop table and take her then and there, instead opting for a smile and taking her hand in his.

Dating.

He could do this.

...-

Detective Stella Gibson re-read the reports from tech regarding the laptop contents of Alice Porter. Miss Porter had kept her life incredibly organized, and that was good news for Stella, it meant she had so much more to work with. And right now, she had the strongest lead she'd had since she began her investigation, thanks to the late Miss Porter.

Christian Grey.

CEO. Billionaire. Megalomaniac. Exceedingly Private. Apparent Sexual Deviant. Christian Grey.

Miss Porter had a series of emails saved in one of her personal files addressed to one Christian Grey, CEO. Her personal Planner showed "Mr. Grey" as her only scheduled activities for the past 11 weekends. But most interesting to Stella was the filel found on Miss Porter's computer entitled "Contract" and the email she had saved entitled "My Request."

Miss Porter apparently had had a very specific kind of fantasy. One that had a few of Stella's male colleagues clucking their tongues in disapproval and shrugging their shoulders as if 'it figured.' But Stella Gibson was sure that the woman had not wished for her own death. Had this "Mr. Grey" decided the fantasy was simply not enough? It was time to start digging further into the history of the enigmatic billionare. Stella knew this type of man well - the CEO was likely used to getting his way in everything. But his money would not save him from justice this time, if Stella had anything to do with it. She had a lot of work to do. No more girls were going to die, not if she could help it.