Author's Note: Hello everybody! Welcome to chapter TEN of "The Girl in the Tower"! I really hope you've been enjoying it so far, and as always, thank you SO MUCH for your reviews, follows, and favorites! I super duper appreciate it! I love you all! So before we begin the next leg of our story, I just want to make a note that there will be some lemon in this chapter, which I'm sure you've all been waiting for! ;) And I really enjoyed writing this one for sure. :3 Please review, follow, and fav! Thank you again and enjoy! :)

Chapter Ten: A Night in New York

1911,

Two Years Later...

I.

I was destined to find the man in the photograph. I could have simply opened a tear to New York City to find him, but I couldn't control my tears as well as I thought I could. I had been looking for him for two years and yet, I only found him in my dreams and visions. Maybe he was the man who would finally come to rescue me from the tower, or the man who would take me away to Paris to marry him. Whoever he was, he meant something to Aunt Rose and Uncle Robert. But they never once mentioned a "Booker DeWitt" in any of their conversations to me, and Aunt Rose never told me about him. Not even a single book I've read alludes to him. It was as if he just dropped from the sky and into this world where he does not belong. After discovering the photograph, I immediately took a gondola to Emporia, and from there to Memorial Gardens to my father's funeral. I told Songbird what I had found and that I wanted to find this man. It became my mission, my main priority, and my secret. But to my shock, Songbird resisted and took me back to the tower. He refused to let me go, refused to let me out into the real world. For the eleven years I had known Him, I began to resent His very presence. His company brought me more misery than happiness now. And I always dreaded Him being there; His glass eyes were constantly watching me every second and minute of each passing day. Before, He was my friend and closest ally, my one protector, and my true guardian. Now, He was my enemy and closest foe, my one torturer, and my true jailer. I loved Him, but now I hated Him... Hate wasn't a word in my dictionary, but it was a feeling in my heart. My Songbird no more.

Two years later and still trapped. I tried to escape but my every attempt failed. My every hope was shattered before my eyes. The dream of ever leaving the tower faded away along with every ounce of my strength. I lost my freedom and my independence. In Columbia, every boy and man had the gift of free will and redemption, while every woman and girl had nothing. Even the coloreds, the Irish, and the foreign! I had nothing, no escape from here. Some may call it heaven, but I call it hell.

My free will might have left, but my memories stayed. My memories of the tower from when I was a little girl were bright and filled with joy. There were feelings of isolation and sadness though, the need and want to be outside to see the wonders of Columbia. I never had real friends of my own except the Songbird, who was my true and only friend, for a while... My naivety and innocence was because of my confinement. And my knowledge of the human system only included which parts of my body I use to think, eat, feel, hear, and dispose of waste. I did read about animalian reproduction, which didn't include humans. Nothing beyond the talk, as they call it.

The two years that passed since my father died were tortuous and unbearable, leaving more bad than good memories behind. But there was one memory, beside all the others, that stood out from the sea of subconscious thoughts. The memory of the man in the photograph still tugged at the corners of my mind. I thought of him every day, and even dreamed of him every night. My dreams of him were unusual, but they also seemed like visions. They were so real, like a memory of yesterday.

Every dream had a beginning, but it never seemed to have an end. We would be on a zeppelin one minute and then on Battleship Bay the next. The dreams always changed, though only one thing remained the same. I always with him, always by his side and never leaving. I would wake up the next morning with a smile on my face, and fall asleep each night imagining I was in his arms. Oh, Booker DeWitt, where are you?

My hero...

II.

I walk the lonely, rain-drenched streets of New York City at night. I get caught in a short but slow downpour as I run to the canopy that hangs over the 24-hour cafe. They sell sandwiches and delicious lobster bisque for only a dollar twenty.

"Damn," I say. I'm all wet now and cold so I wrap my arms around my shivering and drenched body. I then turn to the wide window and see a man standing at the counter. I also notice that he's the only one there, alone but talking to the waitress that serves the best coffee around. I know her as Louise Shellman. I always come by her cafe just to drink her coffee and eat her eclairs. I decide to walk in and greet her.

"Hello, Louise!" I call her name and she quickly notices me. She recognizes me every time because I'm always wearing the same clothes, which is the usual white blouse and buttoned blue shirt. The man speaking to her turns to me and stares. He doesn't smile.

"Oh, hello there, Elizabeth. How may I help you today, sweetheart? Oh, don't tell me, the usual, right?" she asks cheerily, her big cheeks taking up most of her face, which is too big for her small head. She twirls around in her dress and apron, taking the coffee pitcher from the counter and pouring the hot stuff into a cup. She then hands it to me.

"Oh, gosh, thank you, Miss." I smile warmly as I blow on it before taking a sip.

She returns the smile and says, "My pleasure, hon." She's an older woman, but so friendly and inviting. She is the only one in the city I know personally.

The man at the counter doesn't seem to take any interest in our small talk, so he turns back to her and asks for another round of coffee and crumb cake. She gladly complies. I'm hesitant to approach the man, wondering who he is, but I instead take my place at the counter next to him and hope I catch his attention. I then take a short glance at him and see his face: his features are strong, very handsome in appearance. He also has dark brown hair and a pair of green eyes. That's when I find myself staring at him, instantly captured by his looks.

It doesn't take long until I finally catch his eye and he throws a smirk at me, saying in a gruff voice, "Do I know you, kid?" His green eyes hold me hostage for a long second.

I then blush at his question, stammering out an answer, "O-oh, no, um... you don't." I quickly turn away from him to hide my obvious embarrassment, taking another sip of my now cold coffee, "Ew, it's cold." I grimace at the taste. I hear him trying to stifle a giggle now.

"Want another, hon?" Louise then asks with a smile. I nod and she makes me another.

"So..." the man next to me says, "what brings you down here?"

I almost forget to hear him, "Uh, I live here. A couple blocks away."

He chuckles, "Same. I work here, in fact. My office is literally down the street. P.I."

"P.I.?" I ask. I gather the strength to look at him again without fainting.

"Private Investigator. I work for the Pinkertons. Ever heard of 'em?"

I shake my head, "No. Who are they?"

"Like I said, private investigators. Contractors."

"Oh. Are they like spies?"

He can't help but laugh, "No, not exactly." He then takes a piece of his crumb cake and dips it in his drink.

"Oh," is all I'm able to say.

The man downs the coffee and finishes his desert, turning to me once again, "So, you're not gonna ask me what we do for a livin'?"

I take a large gulp of my own drink, nearly burning my throat. I'm just about to choke. "W-what? Oh, well, I guess so. What do you do?"

"We break up strikes. Like worker's strikes? That sort of thing."

"Labor strikes?" I raise a brow in interest.

"Yeah, that's right. You been in one?"

"No. Never have." I sneak another sip, but slowly this time.

He rubs his chin. Curious or interested, maybe? He then grins and offers a hand, "Well, you seem like a nice enough sort. The name's Booker DeWitt. But call me Booker, please." I'm hesitant to take his hand at first, feeling a sudden wave of heat pooling in my cheeks, and afraid he might think me odd. I'm sure he does, considering that I've been refusing to look him in the eye properly. Heh, this man, Booker, such a looker, but also a loner... like me... A loner living in New York City with not a care in the world left. Karma has a very weird way of controlling things. Controlling the nature and fate of unknown individuals. We end up meeting each other at this cafe, and we're talking and exchanging eye contact. It's funny, really. Too difficult to explain with just plain and simple words.

I run a hand through my hair, catching a loose strand between my fingers. I tug at it gently and my cheeks suddenly flush, realizing that I am now in a different place. A different place! Where am I? Where could I be? I was in Louise's cafe one minute and now I'm somewhere else the next. I can't explain it but I also remember and can't remember ever moving from one place to another. We were walking, weren't we? Booker and me? We left the cafe, right? Hand in hand or arm in arm? Through the rain and the fog? The cold and the wind? I don't understand. It's too strange...

I blink twice and then thrice, and then once more.

Now I know where I am...

I'm in his apartment.

Booker turns to me and looks me straight in the eye. I notice that I've been staring at him for the past five minutes or more. I can't remember but I don't try to stress my mind over it. There's no reason. I just need to live in the moment for now. I quickly avert my eyes, a rush of shyness reddening my face, redder than any apple.

"Elizabeth?" He utters hoarsely, taking a step toward me and gently grabbing my chin. He tilts it upward so our eyes meet. I force myself to look back at him, but I can't. It hurts me to ignore his gaze, though I can't help it. I can't help feel the tension that builds within my heart. Do I need something? Do I need something from him? Do I want him? No, no, of course not! I just met him!

My heart disagrees.

"Y-yes...? M-Mr. DeWi-"

He stops me, placing a calloused finger at my lips, "Call me Booker." He slowly leans in, slowly and... teasingly...

My heart skips two beats, automatically closing my eyes as I feel his chapped lips brush ever so softly against mine.

He's kissing me...

I then feel his hands cupping my warm, reddened cheeks, squeezing them slightly in his grip. I gasp a little, biting my lip. I then try to yank away from his grasp, acting as if I've been violated. I really haven't as my heart has already granted him permission. I'm his now.

He backs off as well, letting go of my face and mouth. I want to run out of here, I want to say that I don't want to see him again, but I do. I do want him and need him right this second.

But why? I don't understand. I just met him... I don't know him!

I need to leave, I need to run fast. I need to go now.

But I can't. I can't do it!

"B-Booker...?" I whisper and I let go of my mental restraints.

One minute we were kissing and caressing, feeling each other's lips and tongues run and meld with one another's. Now we are on a cot, broken with the springs exposed, but we don't care. I wrap my legs around his bare torso, allowing him to explore every inch of my body with hand and mouth. We make love, and we do it for hours on end... all night, never ending, never letting go, and never caring about the world around us. Nothing else matters now.

My moans and shudders escalate the pure ecstasy between us. I yank on his hair, kissing him all over and planting sweet and wet kisses all over his chest. He kisses me hungrily in return, leaving a thick trail of purple and blue patches about my neck and breasts. He sucks my nipples dry and leaves light scratches on my back. He pleasures every fiber of my being with every part of his own, his length and his hips pumping hard into me. Each thrust leaves me screaming and begging for so much more, nearly to the point that I lose my voice and my sanity altogether. We ride out our countless orgasms until morning comes.

It seems as if the night has stretched into mid-day now. Though we can care less, because we rest in each other's arms, feeling the nakedness of our bodies pressed against one another's. It was wonderful, last night, I mean. But it is wonderful still, being in the arms of a man I have indeed fallen for. Last night was a confirmation of our feelings and desires. I didn't know that I felt like that for him, yet it was inevitable. Karma has decided our fates, which is being together, even if it means being covered in each other's hot sweat.

I softly stroke his bare chest, gently rubbing my fingers into his nipples and whispering as I close my eyes, "Booker?"

"Yeah?" he mutters, and I can hear a smile playing on his voice. He then lets out a low groan and catches my hand. I feel his lips move across the soft pads of my fingertips. I blush and grin, burying my face into the hollow of his throat. My head rests underneath his chin.

"Will you...stay...?" My voice hangs on the last word. I keep my eyes close, embarrassed at my awkward request. I don't expect him to say yes, and I certainly don't expect him to stay with the girl who he just met and made endless love to. I shouldn't even be asking him of this. What's wrong with me?

I hear him hesitant for a brief second, but with a sigh and a kiss to my forehead, he says...

"Yes, Elizabeth. I'll stay."

III.

Then I woke up...

It was just... a dream...

I just lay in my bed, staring away into the high ceiling. With the sheets over my body, I realized something else. My hand, wet and sticky, was buried deep inside me. I was shocked and scared, quickly removing my soiled fingers from there. I didn't understand and I couldn't remember ever touching myself. I dreamed of being in New York City, spending a night at a cafe and talking to this woman named Louise Shellman, and this man, who I later made love to, Booker DeWitt. The man in the photograph. The man in my dreams, thoughts, and visions. It seemed all too real, though. It seemed as if it really happened, but it happened too fast.

Songbird then swept through the room, probably detecting my high tension levels. I was tense, frightened by the fact that I enjoyed myself in my sleep, and dreamed of being with a man that I never thought I would even be with. It was impossible. I was trapped here. I would never find him, and I would never escape my jailer, the Songbird. My Songbird no more.

I jumped from my bed, revealing myself bare from the waist down. I immediately shielded myself with my hand, not letting Him see me. I then ran to the mirror near by and looked at my reflection. I blushed deeply, seeing how dripping wet I had become. I then noticed the Songbird watching me with His great glass eyes, staring at me with neither an understanding nor any consideration for my privacy. I turned around and told Him to leave me be, but He ignored and kept looking. I wanted to scream at Him and command Him to fly away and never come back. I didn't want Him anymore and I didn't need Him anymore. He was nothing to me. He was my worse nightmare. I tried again, though, this time giving Him a reason why I needed to be alone for a while. I told Him I wanted to try on some dresses. Being the stupid bird that He was, He finally left me be. I was now left to my own devices.

I then took off my gown and studied my naked form. I examined each and every contour of my womanly figure: my rounded, bare breasts, my hard, pink nipples, my small bellybutton, and my hair-covered genitals. I carefully, but hesitantly inserted a finger between my lower lips, letting the folds capture my fingertip. With slow, gentle strokes, I played with my clit, awfully enjoying the pleasurable vibes rippling through me from bottom to top. I moaned softly and increased my speed. I kept on going until I reached my peak, achieving a long and hard orgasm.

I then dived into bed once again and closed my eyes. I wanted to dream of Booker once more. The man who will save me from this hell in the sky. My tower no more.

Author's Note: BIG UPDATE: Oh my gosh you guys, I am so, so, so sorry for the really long chapter and the fact that I haven't updated since the 21st, for personal reasons... But I apologize for my absence and I promise that I will try to catch up and upload more chapters in the next day or two! Once again, I'm very sorry for not updating in a few days but I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! And I really hope it was worth the wait! Thank you for your understanding, patience, and support! I love you all so much! And as always, please don't forget to review, follow, and favorite! I'll see you guys very, very soon! :)