I added some changes to Ana's life details. The character I'm envisioning is slightly different from E.L.'s version.

Saturday, November 28, 2014

Anastasia Rose Steele

DOB: September 10, 1992, Montesano, WA

Address: 509 Wendigo Avenue, Apartment 13, Shady Oaks, Seattle, WA 98101

Mobile No: 360 587 2364

Social Security No: 467-46-4671

Banking Details: Bank of America, Seattle, WA 98101

Account No: 364902 : $15,398 balance

Occupation: Undergraduate Student

University of Washington College of Liberal Arts

- English Major

GPA: 3.75

Prior Education: Montesano JR-SR High School

SAT Score: 1950

Employment: Vixen Strip club

292 Briar Lane NW, Seattle, WA 98101

(Part-time)

Father: Raymond Steele

DOB: Sept. 1,1969

m Carla May Wilks Steele (May 1987)

Mother: Carla May Wilks Steele

DOB: July 18,1970

m Raymond Steele (May 1987)

Political Affiliations: None

Religious Affiliations: Unknown

Sexual Orientation: Presumably Heterosexual

Relationships: Jose Rodriguez

- January 2012 - August 2012

Ethan Kavanagh

- January 2013 - December 2013

No others indicated at present

Criminal Offenses: None

Christian poured over the report a dozen times, willing the pieces of paper to give him any bit of new information. Anastasia Steele seemed like any regular girl - which didn't satisfy Christian in the slightest. She had good grades, went to college for Christ's sake; so why would someone as ambitious as her be working at a strip club? She had to be in some sort of trouble, which the background report offered him no information into. He eyed her social security number for the tenth time. 467-46-4671? He almost chuckled aloud at the absurdity of the 'information.' Either she had a very interesting social number, or the records were falsified. He also honed in on her bank account - he didn't know strippers made that much, especially since she had only been working there for a couple months.

Something isn't right, here...

Immediately his mind started to wander, concocting up all the possible scenarios to explain the reason for Ana's actions, along with the fact that she was fully-loaded without even obtaining a degree yet. There's no way in hell you could earn that much by spinning around on a pole and shaking your ass. It had to be something bad: drug rings, sexual trafficking, black market organ donations...

Good God, Grey - get a grip.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, noting how preposterous all of his theories were. The petite, pale, innocent-looking brunette he had become acquainted with could never be capable of those types of actions. If he ever wanted to know what exactly was going on in her life, he'd have to ask her himself.

"Taylor!" He yelled, his voice echoing throughout his office.

Within a few seconds, his bodyguard and most trusted security personnel stood at the threshold of his office.

"Sir," Taylor answered, poised and attentive.

Christian stood, tightening his tie and grabbing his suit jacket from behind his chair.

"I need you to take me to 509 Wendigo Avenue."

Christian peered out from behind the glass of his Audi's tinted windows. Taylor had parked the car inconspicuously behind Ana's apartment building. As they sat, evaluating the atmosphere of Ana's current living situation, Christian felt like a fool. He had driven twenty miles to sit and wait outside of some random girl's apartment building, much like a stalker would do. He didn't know the first thing about this girl, nor did he understand why he was even so interested. If he needed a sub, Elena could find the best fit for him within an hour, so what made him have such an insatiable urge for Anastasia Rose Steele?

He didn't even know if she would be interested.

Christian ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He sighed deeply, trying to understand what the hell was going on with him. He didn't chase women, they chased him. If he wanted something, he'd simply snap his fingers - and bam - it'd appear. He didn't like the idea of him investing so much time and energy into one single person; probably showing Scarlett Heat more attention than his own family. The only real factor he ever focused on was his job, his mergers and acquisitions. Ms. Steele was slowly becoming an obsession - like a deal he just had to close. The thought worried him.

"Turn the car around, Taylor," Christian ordered, his tone bleak. Taylor had seen him at his worst times, but he couldn't help but to feel embarrassed that his team member was a witness to his obsession with a virtual stranger. Christian took pride in the fact that he rarely cared - about people, emotions, or anything other than money. He couldn't afford to suddenly start feeling and acting differently.

"Yes, Sir," Taylor responded, immediately starting the car and shifting the gear into reverse. Christian rolled his shoulders back, resolving himself to end this absurd fascination with Anastasia Steele. He would call Elena in the morning and discuss his need for a new submissive, and then he would go visit his mother. All of the effort he had put into uncovering the secrets of Anastasia made him feel guilty - he could recite her SAT score and account number verbatim, but he didn't even know his mom's favorite song.

As he felt the car's tires glide smoothly over the concrete, he relaxed and sunk further into his seat. He absentmindedly looked out of the right door window, his eyes not searching for anything specific, until he spotted the wisps of mahogany hair blowing in the wind. Well, so he thought.

"Stop the car," he blurted, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

As he exited the car, he wasn't quite sure what he was going to say, or what excuse he was going to use for how he had found her address. With the amount of questions he had asked her last week, surely she would think that he was stalking her.

Which he was, slightly.

Even though he knew how badly it would look, showing up at her apartment out of nowhere, he couldn't allow himself to sit idly by while the events unfolded in front of him. Anastasia's usually pale skin was flushed bright red, her face streaked greyish-black from her mascara running. There was a tall, blonde man that stood towering over her, his hands grasped firmly around her forearms. He shook her, the force from his movements causing her hair to whip violently back and forth, both of them yelling at each other incoherently. She tried to push him away, but he barely budged, nor did his hold on her arms loosen.

Christian quickened his pace, in fear that the scene in front of him would take the exact turn he didn't want it to. Ana pounded on the man's chest, which only aggravated him. He gripped her arms tighter, causing her to cry out and pull away once again, only to be pulled closer. He shouted at her, their faces only inches apart. Christian's feet hit the ground harder as he broke into a slight run. As the man lifted his arm and reached back, Christian emerged beside Ana, slightly shocking both the man and her. The blonde lowered his arm, but didn't release his hold on Ana.

"Is there a problem?" Christian asked, his voice ice cold. He stared at the man, both his jaw and fists tightened.

"Do I know you?" The man retorted, staring back just as hard.

"No, but if you did, I'm sure you wouldn't treat my friends in such an unkind manner," Christian growled, daring the man to test his patience. It had been a week since he last had sex - he would be more than happy to release some of his tension on the asshole.

The man scoffed, letting Ana go. She stumbled, falling backwards onto her butt. Christian gently grabbed her underneath the crooks of her arm, helping her stand up. "Oh, another friend?" The man mocked, "Are you fucking him too?"

Ana looked down, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't reply, which caused the man to step forward, his expression wild. Before he could get closer than a millimeter, Christian blocked his passage to Ana, stepping in front of her. The two men came face to face, neither of them backing down. "I think you should leave," Christian suggested, his fists balled at his side. The man stared intensely, before shaking his head and stepping back.

"Whatever," he mumbled, "I'll be back Thursday," he stated, peering over Christian's shoulder to acknowledge Ana.

He turned away and walked to his car, skidding out of the parking lot and racing into the sunset.

I hope the bastard crashes his car, Christian thought to himself. He turned towards Ana, searching her face for any hint as to what had just happened. She meekly looked up at him, her cheeks tinted red with embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" Christian asked, his tone slightly softer.

She wiped her face, the black streaks slightly fading off of her skin. "I look like shit, don't I?" Before Christian could respond, she stopped him, "Don't answer that." She chuckled, but it was devoid of humor. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, biting her lip. "Are you stalking me?"

"No," Christian lied, "I have a cousin who lives here." He was proud of himself for being able to come up with an excuse in such a short amount of time. "I was on my way home when I say the, uh… Commotion."

She looked down again, sniffing quietly. "Sorry about that," she apologized, "I'm sure the whole building heard us," she chuckled again, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Who was that?"

"Some asshole," she sighed, waving her hand dismissively. "Not a person of interest."

"Are you sure about that? He seemed pretty hands on," Christian grumbled, his blood starting to boil. "Is he around a lot? Because I don't think that's the type of company you want to keep-"

"He's not usually like that," she interrupted, "Not as… Physical, I mean."

Christian rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

Ana frowned, crossing her arms once again. "You don't even know him."

"I don't need to, I've already seen enough. He was going to hit you," he hissed, his eyes narrowed.

She shrugged, "I don't know… Maybe. But I think it's pretty convenient how you happen to have a cousin who lives in the same building I do, after asking me all of those questions," she accuses, changing the subject.

"Stop projecting," Christian countered.

"Stop dodging my questions. What do you want from me?" She pleaded.

"I… Nothing," Christian lied. "I thought you were interesting, that's all. My cousin just so happens to live where you do - that's completely out of my control."

"Fine," she acquiesced, "but why did you come running over here? You could've just left…"

"And let him do God knows what?" Christian scoffed, "No, thank you."

"Well… I appreciate that. I don't know when he would've left if you didn't say something."

Christian didn't respond, not sure what to say. Of course she'd want him to leave now - it was evident that she wasn't interested, and perhaps that was a good thing. Judging from the ordeal that he had just witnessed, it was likely that Ana had a little too much baggage for Christian to handle.

Ana rubbed her arms, shivering slightly. It was then that Christian noticed that she only wore a thin t-shirt and a pair of jeans, her feet bare. "You should get inside," he suggested, but he was already steering her towards the door. She nodded, allowing him to guide her. His hand was on the small of her back, the warmth from his skin feeling comforting against her cold body.

Christian opened the door wide, allowing her to enter first. As she stepped inside the building, he stood frozen at the threshold. He wasn't sure whether he should follow her - would that be too much? He already knew that he most likely had come on too strong; he had shown up at her apartment for God's sake. With each passing day, he felt his opportunity slipping away - if he wanted to persuade her to be his submissive, he'd have to be charming, not a creepy stalker.

He stood up tall, his face impassive. "I guess I'll see you later, then," he announced, his foot holding the door open. He didn't cross any further, nor did he allow any emotion to show. That had been his first mistake - investing himself too much into the conquest.

"Oh…" Ana said quietly, her mouth slightly open, as if she wanted to add more.

Christian nodded and turned away, "Or, you could come in - if you want," Ana called out, awkwardly wrapping her arms around herself.

Christian peered over his shoulder, her cheeks flushed a slight pink. She was inviting him in? Perhaps she was more interested than she had let on. He decided to humor her, but reminded himself to stay distant. It wouldn't be best for her to know his true intentions at the moment.

"Sure. If you're offering."

He followed her inside, sneaking a quick peek at her ass. Somehow, it looked better covered up. She walked down the hallway, the sound of her bare feet the only disruption to the stark silence. It was after six o'clock, which meant that most adults and kids were home - Christian expected the building to be a bit louder.

"I like being close to the exit, but it really sucks when you can hear your neighbors walking upstairs," she called over her shoulder absentmindedly. She turned the corner, arriving at her door: Apartment 13. "It's a pretty small building, only about three floors," she continued, chattering away to fill up the space of dead silence.

She opened the door, simply stepping inside. Christian concluded that she hadn't locked the door behind her due to the whole incident he had just witnessed. As she pushed the harsh man out of her building, the last thing she was probably thinking of was to lock her door. It still irritated him, however. He thought of it as a very irresponsible thing to do.

He'd have to inform her of the amount of crazy people lurking around every corner. The world really wasn't a safe place.

"How long have you lived here?" Christian asked.

"Almost four years," she answered, standing behind the door as she waited for Christian to enter. "I think I'll be moving soon - I need the space."

His eyes roamed around the room, taking in the warm, homey feel of her apartment. All of the furniture was decorated in creamy shades of oranges, browns and whites, her linen couch a burnt orange, with one eggshell colored ottoman placed in front, the other adjacent to the sofa. A brown coffee table sat in the center of her living room, magazines and remotes scattered haphazardly. Two lamps sat in each corner, the shades composed of pecan colored dangling crystals. Her kitchen was not placed much further, the fridge and stove stainless steel. There was a small breakfast bar situated at the entrance to her kitchen, three stark, white bar stools arranged neatly in front of the bar. To the right of the kitchen was her dining room, where an umber colored chandelier hung above the small round table. Four chairs were placed around the table, rust colored placemats and cloth napkins set out decoratively.

For a stripper, she had surprisingly good taste.

"Sorry for the mess," she apologized meekly. Christian raised an eyebrow.

"Where?" He asked, taking another look at the pristinely decorated apartment. As he analyzed a little further, he did notice small objects scattered around, such as a sock underneath the couch, or a candy wrapper on the kitchen counter. He shrugged. After seeing Elliot's apartment, he was sure no one could ever be messier.

"Do you want some tea? I can make some tea," she offered. Before he could answer, she sauntered into the kitchen, grabbing a kettle from the wooden cabinet.

"Not much of a tea drinker," Christian muttered.

"Oh… I have wine," she suggested, dropping the kettle into the sink, "Or some really cheap beer… Oh! And water."

"Water is fine," Christian answered, looking at a picture frame that hung on the wall. Ana smiled brightly at the camera, the sun's reflection making it seem as if her eyes twinkled. There was a little boy that stood in front of her, her arms wrapped around him as she crouched down. His smile was equally as bright and wide, his eyes the same shade of blue.

Must be a little brother, or nephew, Christian thought.

"Here ya go." Ana handed Christian a cup of water. He eyed the cup oddly.

"Scooby-doo?" He asked, semi-amused.

"It's an excellent show," she grumbled, frowning slightly.

She sat on the couch, Christian following her lead. "I like what you've done with the place… Very bohemian," he remarked.

She half smiled. "Thanks. I'm imagining your house looks nothing like this?"

"Not even close," he admitted.

She turned towards him, tucking one leg underneath her. She propped an elbow on the couch, resting her head in her hand. "Okay, so you know my name, have been to my workplace - twice, might I add - and now you're in my home. I think it's only fair I learn a little about you."

Christian sat his cup on the coffee table. "What do you want to know?"

"A name would be a good place to start," she muttered dryly.

"My name is Christian."

"Last name?"

"Need-to-know."

She rolled her eyes. "I never should've never introduced that line to you."

"I'm not an interesting guy," he argued, "I'm sure there's nothing else you'd want to know about me."

"Of course there's more I want to know about you. What are your fears? Your dreams? Your aspirations in life? What drives you to wake up each morning?" She asked, her eyes glossing over slightly, as if she were daydreaming.

He scoffed. "I'm afraid of nothing," he started, but realized that was a lie. There was one thing he was afraid… Deathly afraid of. However, he decided to continue without explaining further. "I dream of curing world hunger, my aspiration in life is to do something meaningful, and what drives me to wake up each morning…" He trailed off. What did inspire him to live another day? As he thought about the question, he wasn't really sure. Of course he loved his business and his family, but he always felt so… Empty. Life was more of a routine to him than an actual experience. "Is my job," he finished, yet with another lie. "Your turn."

She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing. "Well… I'm afraid clowns and spiders, I dream of being a well-known author - or publicist, I have no preference - my aspiration in life is to make a name for myself, and what drives me to wake up every morning… Is my family," she finished, her eyes taking on that same glint from earlier.

Anastasia Steele sounded well-rounded… Too well-rounded. "What is a future author or publicist doing working at Vixen?" Christian asked, his tone sardonic.

She pursed her lips. "I have my reasons."

"We all do," he admitted, "but I'm asking for yours."

"Why is it so important to you?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. She sat up, turning slightly away.

Christian took a deep breath, "Well, I like to get to know a person before I imagine myself with them in the future."

She whipped her head around, her eyes wide. She frowned, more in confusion than sadness. "You… Why?" She asked, completely puzzled as to why someone like Christian would be interested in her.

"The heart wants what it wants," he joked, then added seriously, "Like I said before - you're interesting. There's not many people who can hold my interest."

"And why is that?"

"I have very specific tastes," he replied.

Ana bit her lip, causing a stirring in his pants. He looked away, taking a deep breath.

Get it together, Grey.

"So do I," she agreed.

He turned back around, his heart slightly sinking. Was that her way of rejecting him?

"And," she continued, "I think you fit along the line of those standards.

He raised his eyebrows, not shocked, but yet not completely expecting the reaction he had received from her. It was… Relieving.

"Then let me treat you to dinner."

She crossed her arms. "No. I'm not sure what every man's fascination with feeding a woman is, but it's quite annoying."

"Well you need to eat-"

"And I do, but I'd rather get to know you while my mouth isn't filled with steak. How about a day in the park?"

He debated the idea. It would be much easier to discuss contracts and BDSM at his apartment, instead of at a park filled with soccer moms and toddlers, but he realized he needed to play his cards right. "Fine, it's a date."

She smirked, pleased with herself. She looked at the clock, her eyes widening. "Oh my gosh, I completely forgot I had to do something. Uh, you gotta go!" She said, jumping up. She grabbed his cup off of the coffee table and tossed it into the sink.

He stood, watching her fly around the room. She threw on a pair of boots, a thick, wool jacket, and grabbed her car keys off of the console table. He slightly smiled as he watched her - she looked like a Christmas elf on LSD. Without the heels, she was much, much shorter.

"Do you need my number - to schedule anything?"

Christian opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "Ah, you'll probably figure it out," she muttered to herself, waving her hand in the air.

She catches on quick.

Christian walked towards her apartment door, preparing to let himself out. "I'll text you the details," he stated, before stepping on a soft, medium-sized object. He looked down, a brown and red sock monkey puppet placed underneath his foot. He bent down to pick it up. "How cute," he mumbled, his voice slightly puzzled.

Ana snatched the puppet away from him. "Yeah, sounds like a plan!" She threw it onto the couch before pushing him out of the door. "Do me a favor," she stated, before Christian had completely emerged around the corner. He stopped, his head turned around towards her.

"Yeah?"

"If you ever decide to become an actual stalker - be a little bit more discreet next time."

Did anyone catch my Wendigo reference? XD I hope you enjoyed the chapter, reviews are appreciated.

-Xoxo