PART II

Franziska watched helplessly as her brother stumbled away from her, his body wracked with grief for the death of the dream they shared. When he disappeared from view she continued toward her room. Her head hanging low from disappointment and shame. Upon opening her door she was immediately met by the aroma of flowers.

Her room was filled with dozens of bouquets each in a fancy pottery vase adorned with delicate designs no doubt hand painted by an artist of some talent. This must have been the surprise he had mentioned. She walked over to one of the bouquets. It was peonies and orchids, two of her favorites. She gently ran her finger on the edge of the delicate pottery vase. She could imagine the care her brother had taken in choosing each bloom finding the ones nearest to perfection believing she deserved nothing less. He would have smelt each and examined each. He would have directed the florist on which ones to place in which vase. That was the way Miles was, always attentive, always detail oriented and always trying his hardest to please her.

She could feel his eagerness for her homecoming radiating from the bouquets. It filled her with despair to know how much he had longed for her homecoming. She slid her hand down the vase and ran her finger over the ornate designs upon it. Then she clenched her jaw, picked it up and hurled the entire flower arrangement in its exquisite vase across the room. It smashed against her wall in a satisfyingly destructive way, but it was just one of many. She could hear the flowers mocking her, taunting her stupidity and she smashed each one in turn for their insolence. But even shattered upon the floor, they continued to remind her of how badly she had hurt him while he had wanted nothing more than to be allowed to worship her, ever her faithful, devoted fool.

In her mind a voice told her that she didn't deserve Miles' perfect flowers that her flaws were too deep. He had finally seen her for who she really was a self-centered spoiled girl who didn't know how to control her impulses and behaved in manners unworthy of his love.

Her face was no longer the pale masterpiece, but a blotchy wide mouthed wailing child. She had lost him. After all those years spent desiring him she had pushed him away. She fell to the floor amongst the pieces of shattered pottery and grabbed at the flowers ripping their petals apart, tearing them into little bits wishing instead that it were her own flesh she was tearing apart.

The tears came in a flood and her world became a blur of broken bits of pottery. She thought of picking up a shard of the pottery and slicing herself with it, but she knew that would be the coward's way out. She still owed the world her talents whether she was worthy of love or not. There were criminals to punish and she had vowed her life to their prosecution. She would have to survive though she no longer felt whole.

In her mind the image of Miles' handsome face, usually so poised and collected, was now replaced with the anguish-stricken and sobbing she had created with her actions. The memory of it physically pained her and she reached for her chest wondering how she would ever be able to continue living with the hole she must surely have there. She remembered the pain of having been shot and found herself thinking that she would happily exchange the horror she was currently undergoing for a million bullet wounds.

How had this happened? She replayed the events in her mind wishing she could find the moment a demon took possession of her and forced her to do the things that so deeply hurt her brother, her best friend, her lover, her everything.

~xxxx~

Agent Lang had insisted he be treated no better than his wolf pack so he was enduring economy class accommodations about ten minutes away, but for "sis" he had booked a much nicer room in a classy hotel where some of the other agents and Interpol personnel were staying. He knew she was a lady who was accustomed to such things and while Franziska appreciated his thoughtfulness she found herself bored in the evenings without his constant Lang Zi quotes giving her an excuse to exercise her whipping arm.

She would never admit it, but without Agent Lang around Interpol assignments were highly dull. Never one to watch television, she decided to go downstairs to the bar for a drink and a change of scenery.

When she arrived at the hotel bar she found several agents there and one by the name of Hans Clark motioned her over to join them. Agent von Karma was known as a woman who was all business so they were eager to have this rare opportunity to see her outside of the confines of her professional life.

Hans was a nice guy. Franziska didn't know him well, but she trusted his professional assessments and therefore trusted him here because for her there was no line between work and social life. Work was never ending.

"Wow, Agent von Karma. I can't believe you came down!"

"I need a drink once in a while same as you." She knew all too well the reputation she had as being cold and anti-social, but on the inside she found herself craving companionship more and more. She wanted to share experiences with other people, but she didn't seem to know how. She felt constantly socially awkward even now and she found herself fondling her whip under the table as she waited for one of her companions to come back with the drink she had ordered.

Hans introduced the other members of the assembled party, but the only one Franziska really registered was Officer Harold McPherson.

He was not an Agent but a high-ranking local police official from a neighboring community. They had put him up in the hotel so he would not have to commute each day for the lengthy planning meetings the current operation was requiring.

Officer McPherson was older than Franziska by several years and definitely did not fit the donut-eating cop stereotype. He had a wide smile, bulging muscles, and just a hint of an Irish accent. Franziska found it unusually easy to talk to him especially after the first drink.

They saw each other at the bar the next three nights and on the third night he finally asked, "You want to come up to my room watch a movie or something?"

Franziska hadn't seen the harm in that. The bar was noisy and crowded and, therefore, not the type of environment she enjoyed.

In his room they had settled into the loveseat and continued conversing about nothing in particular, neither one of them making any move to pick out a movie. Then Harold, as he insisted she call him, had moved closer to her. Much closer.

"You know, Franziska, you're gorgeous."

Franziska laughed. Oh, how she loved attention.

"No I mean it. You're very attractive."

Harold leaned against her.

Franziska blushed.

"Don't pretend that you don't know."

Franziska squirmed a little. He was definitely in her space bubble. "Well, I think I should…"

"Franziska, are you telling me you don't like me?" Harold appeared startled.

"No, you're-"

His lips touched hers. She reached up and grabbed his muscular shoulder intending to push him away, but instead her hand just came to rest upon it as the kiss deepened. His lips traveled swiftly to her neck. It felt great. It had been so long since she'd been touched.

He started unbuttoning her blouse, but he didn't stop there. He teased one breast out of her bra and began toying with her nipple with his hand while his tongue drug itself across her throat.

Franziska looked at him in shock as he plunged his head into her bosom to suck on her nipple. She gasped.

"Didn't you know I wanted this from the first moment I saw you?" He said. She hadn't been looking for this. She had merely wanted someone to talk to, but there was something so wonderful about being wanted. His touch felt good…

He continued undressing her. Her top was off and he was removing his own shirt.

Franziska still felt rather stunned. She should have been running for the door but his hands and lips felt so good and he was so muscular. "Chiseled" she thought they called it. She'd never been with a man like this, but it was all happening so fast. She was used to being the one in charge. She felt discombobulated. She glanced toward the door, but she didn't make a move for it. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but her body wasn't giving her a choice it was acting on instinct alone. She could feel herself getting wet and open and in need of relief, relief that Harold was more than happy to provide for her.

Officer McPherson was handsome and strong and he wanted her. She felt her body involuntarily offering itself to him. She was between his legs watching as he whisked her clothing off of her. In the moments that she saw his eyes she could see lust flash within them. His desire driving him to get closer, ever closer to her. His lips were all over her body and she could feel his pelvis beginning to press into her.

He unbuttoned her slacks and she found herself helping to slide them off. He smiled seeing that she was getting into it.

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off and stood in front of her in his underwear and then he pulled those off before whisking her pants and underwear all the way off flinging them across the room.

They were now completely naked and Franziska found herself feeling uncomfortable, but he was already on top of her probing at her. Franziska had a vision of Miles, but it was too late. Harold was already in her and she wasn't going to make him stop.

It occurred to her he wasn't wearing a condom. He hadn't even asked about anything of the kind. Thank God she was on the pill, but what the hell was he thinking?

He thrusted into her wildly pawing at her breasts and kissing her. Franziska felt like she was having an out of-body experience. She could see and feel herself going through the motions of passion. Her head was leaned back her jaw open. She was enjoying his thrusts letting out little moans and groans of pleasure. It all felt good, but something just wasn't right.

"Oh, you're so hot." He said and she laughed as she leaned back so that her head was hanging upside down off the end of the loveseat.

"Come on. Let's get on the bed." He tilted his head in the direction of the bed and he led her there and she climbed on top of him. He smiled up at her as she pulled him into her. It felt so good.

"Yeah, that feels nice." He reached up and massaged at her clit while she moved on his impalement, but soon she was on her back and her ankles were on his shoulders and he was pounding hard.

She was screaming with pleasure. It felt really good. Really, really good. He pulled out and came on her. His juice spurted onto her abdomen, her breasts and her face. He wiped it off of her face with a corner of the sheet and kissed her.

She was exhausted and panting. He seemed worn out too, but lying there beside her seeing her naked body covered in the evidence of their fucking only served to turn him on even more than before and he climbed on her again and started playing with her between her legs. He kept saying how pretty she was. She started feeling his fingers making their way further back toward her ass and Franziska started to feel a little ill. Only her and Miles had done that. It seemed weird, but that was special. Sex was something she had shared with many people, not tons, but more than a few. Hell, the first time she had sex she hadn't even wanted to. She hadn't even been conscious at the time, so "normal" sex it didn't seem to matter that much, but this? This was special. It was something she could do only when very, very aroused like when she was with Miles. Like that first magical day they were together. It was embarrassing to have something so seemingly gross be so coveted, but this was far too personal a thing to share with Harold. What the hell was she doing?

"Harold, I don't think-"

"It's ok. You don't need to be nervous."

"No. This has been fun, but-"

He rolled her over and whispered in her ear. "Come on. I know you like it rough. You don't need to pretend you don't want this."

Franziska felt a wave of panic shout through her. She realized too late that her and Miles might act like freaks in the bedroom, or the office, or the park but it was always beautiful. It was making love. This was just sex for the sake of sex and she thought that would be ok, but it wasn't. It wasn't the same. She wanted Miles. She wanted to make love. She wanted him nuzzling her neck in that feline way of his. She wanted his floppy bangs to dangle in front of his face so she could reach for them and tuck them behind his ear. She wanted to feel his strong arms ever so gently wrapping around her before he drifted off to sleep. She wanted to hear "I love you, darling," murmured in her ear, but instead she had Harold, who was rapidly forcing his way into her. He was smiling and she was gritting her teeth. It hurt.

He was kissing the back of her neck. He probably meant it in a gentle loving way, but Franziska didn't feel it that way. Each kiss reminded her of a bug that needed to be swatted. Miles and her did these exact same things but it didn't feel the same. They did it and it felt beautiful. This felt trashy. This wasn't making love; she didn't love this guy.

She was really hoping this was going to be over soon. She wanted to leave. She knew this wasn't his fault, but she felt dirty. Really dirty. Like she wanted to bleach her skin. She was so stupid. All she could think about was Miles. How he treated her like a princess even while they did all kinds of naughty things, but this just made her feel like a whore.

And then he said it. The words that sealed the deal.

"What a little slut you are, Franziska."

She felt like crying, but she steeled herself. She had to get through this.

He was thrusting like crazy and every movement hurt. She was getting less and less aroused and so it was getting more and more uncomfortable. Please, let him hurry up and cum, she thought. He finally did and she relaxed and fell forward as he kissed her neck.

"Oh, God. That was amazing!" He said happily.

This guy was a moron. He didn't even know she hadn't been enjoying herself. He wasn't trying to dominate her. He was just an idiot.

"Oh, Franziska. You're wild."

Funny, she thought. I haven't touched you for quite a while…

He leaned over and licked at her breasts and kept talking about how amazing she was and how mind-blowingly awesome she felt, but all Franziska could think about was how much her butt hurt.

"Harold. I should go."

"But, Franziska! Why go? I can drop you off at the office tomorrow on my way to the police station."

"NO."

"Come on. Come take a shower with me. I want to be all clean so you can do whatever comes to mind." Franziska was pretty sure she knew what idea he was hoping was going to come into her head and she felt even more ashamed. He thought she was easy.

He kissed her. "God, that was so hot! I've never done that before."

Franziska stood up and started to gather her clothes. They were tossed all over the room.

"Franny," she cringed. She hated being called that. "Why are you leaving? Did I do something wrong?"

Franziska sighed. He may be a moron, but he wasn't a bad guy.

"No, Harold. But I did. I have a boyfriend." This sounded so strange. She never referred to Miles as her boyfriend. The word seemed to trivialize what they had, but she knew this guy wouldn't understand unless she put it in simple terms.

"Franny, I didn't know! Everybody told me you were single."

"I know. I don't talk about him much."

"Well then it must not be-"

"Harold, I love him and I don't love you. I should never have come here."

"Oh, come on. We were having a great time."

"No, you've been having a great time and I've realized I don't want to do this."

Harold walked up to her obviously trying to exude whatever pheromone he had used to entice her into the bed. "Baby, it's ok. You don't need to feel guilty. Sometimes stuff happens, especially when people are apart. Whose to say your boyfriend isn't doing the same thing?"

Me, thought Franziska, because she knew there was no way in hell Miles would cheat on her. Ever.

"Don't go running out on me!" Harold said, but Franziska continued to get dressed. "You know you enjoyed it!"

Franziska winced. He was right. She had liked it, at first. The attention, the flattery, the kissing, but it had gone too far much too quickly.

She started to walk toward the door and he followed her.

"Franny-"

"A word to the wise, Officer McPherson. Not all moans are signs of pleasure. Buy yourself some lube, you fool." And she slashed him with her whip and marched out the door before he could see the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes.

~xxxx~

Franziska didn't remember when the replaying of her one-night stand with Harold had literally turned into a nightmare, but at some point she had slipped into a dream as she found herself in her bed still partially dressed.

Her room was in a shambles. She hadn't only broken the vases. She'd slashed paintings with a letter opener. She had yanked curtains off their rods. She had destroyed so many things she loved and looking and the mess she felt it was mere poetic justice, as the thing she loved most in the entire world was her brother and she had destroyed that, too.

There was a knock on the door and her heart leapt. Perhaps he had slept on it and decided to forgive her.

"It's me. Will you be taking your breakfast in your room?" It was Helga. Franziska's heart felt like it had just been dashed open on a rock.

"Yes, Helga. I will." Helga had obviously expected this as she immediately rolled in a teacart with breakfast, but she paused seeing the state of Frnaziska's usually immaculate bedchamber.

Franziska scanned the woman's brown eyes to read her reaction.

"What did you do, Franziska?" Franziska knew Helga wasn't referring to the catastrophe within her room. Franziska said nothing, but reached over to remove the lid from her breakfast.

As though the state of Ms. von Karma's room wasn't evidence enough that something was amiss, Helga continued. "The master of the house has informed me that from now on he'll be taking all of his meals in his room so that you may continue to make use of the dining room and drawing room. And I found this resting outside your door."

Helga was holding Franziska's whip. Franziska reached for it and murmured his name.

"Yes. I'm sure he thought you'd need it."

Franziska brought it in toward her to snuggle it like a teddy bear. She hoped that it would retain some of his scent, but instead it just smelt like leather. She sighed.

"I told you to be gentle with the boy's heart! Franziska, he isn't like other men. You of all people should know that." Franziska said nothing. She didn't even have the heart to whip her most faithful servant for her insolence. Instead, she looked down at her breakfast and realized there was no way she could eat and so she fell back upon the bed clutching her whip, rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head.

She would not be leaving bed today.