THE THITHERTH FLOOR

by RussBee

A one short story.

THE THIRTIETH FLOOR

A FIFTY SHADES FAN FICTION

Ana's new life on the Thirtieth Floor

Prescott has the grey Audi sedan waiting at the curb outside Seattle Independent Press. Sawyer, my bodyguard, escorts me to the car and opens the door. I smile inwardly, at the success of our coordinated movements, like a dance. To think at first Sawyer had threatened to resign claiming I was unmanageable. A shared lesson with Taylor resolved our differences. Now we move in tandem with me naturally staying in the correct protectee's position.

Belinda smoothly wheels the Audi, with its protective executive armor, through Seattle's rush hour traffic. We arrive at the ESCALA luxury high rise building where my boy friend… now husband… Christian Grey owns the Penthouse. I count the seconds after Prescott enters the code… waiting for the garage gate to rise. Seven seconds. If someone wanted me dead, this would the place. I'm a sitting duck. Seven seconds. I shake my head. It's like I'm living a novel I'm reading.

I'm gathering my things to exit the vehicle. Unexpectedly, the car stops short. A large white truck, a service van, is double parked by the elevators. Sawyer says 'I don't like it", in a serious tone. With a nod, Belinda drives away from the perceived threat. Sawyer turns in his seat to search the shadows for hidden assailants.

Instead of exiting the garage back onto the Street, we back into a distant space with both a good view and clear lane to suddenly use the exit in an emergency. I put aside my irritation at not getting the Royal Treatment through ESCALA's main lobby. Sawyer says "I'll check it out." I sit up straight and look around. I'm curious to see what 'checking things out' entails.

While Sawyer gets out, locking the door behind him, Prescott has continued her discreet stake out of the van. Sawyer approaches the van. Sawyer texts data from the vehicle VIN for Belinda to run. Sawyer takes out gloves to try the doors… the doors appear to be locked. He looks through the glass. The all clear is given, the Audi stops next to Sawyer, who holds the door for me. He doesn't speak as we wait for Prescott by the elevators. Belinda breaks the silence "The Concierge said the Elevator Service wasn't expected today but he did check in and had company identification.

"Thank you for being so vigilant with my safety," I say, as we enter the elevator.

"Security went to Hell… the night of the Charity Ball."

"What do you mean?" I question him. Sawyer looks down uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry." I've over spoken. "Mr Grey won't like me expressing my thoughts so openly."

Prescott gives Sawyer a look as if to say are you nuts?

Intrigued, I stab a random floor button to stop the elevator. Alarmed at the open door, Prescott takes up a security stance, on guard.

"Mr Grey isn't here. Tell me" I demand. I know that Christian is in New York on business. I'm on my own here in Seattle and am suddenly feeling very brave exercising authority I don't really own.

"Not much to tell. Just that while everyone was looking at your vandalized car, not enough attention was dedicated to guarding against ambushes from behind. We were lucky. Luck is welcome, but it's not a plan. Having your principle ambushed is really bad for job security… the principle is the person we are paid to protect. Besides, a Failure is strongly offensive to me. I shouldn't have to remind professionals."

"OK. Thank you. This conversation never happened." I hold my index finger over my lips. "Shush!" I don't think I'm going to get more from Sawyer anyway. I push the button to close the door and we resume our journey upward,

The elevator doors open revealing a world of luxury still so new to me. Mrs Jones, Christian's housekeeper, returns my greeting from the kitchen. I'm relieved to step out of my heels. Dressing the part of the fiction editor takes getting used to. I'm glad the work day has ended.

I go to my dressing room and remove my business attire. It's only one of a complete wardrobe of both professional and casual wear that Christian has gifted me. Did he not like my clothes?

On a whim, I remove my underwear. My hand snatches up a pair of clean panties. In my new life of privilege I can have clean panties any time I want, courtesy of Mrs Jones. I haven't done any wash since I moved in with Christian. Christian thinks I will get used to this life of luxury his wealth allows.

I text to Christian: I'M NAKED

His reply is quick: THIS HAS POSSIBILITIES

I send a picture of the empty shower; I'm just not comfortable sending nudes. I put my hair up and step into the steamy waterfall. Three minutes later I'm drying off in one or more of Gail's fluffy towels. Thirty stories in the sky, a beam of light shines across the bed. I toss the towels at the chair before flinging my nude body across the bed. The soft coverlet feels absolutely heavenly against my bare skin as I stretch. My eyes close.

I am wakeful but my eyes are closed. I'm aware of my even breathing and the smile on my face. I yawn and open my eyes. I'm grinning… and still naked. The nap was refreshing… I've never been so bold with my nudity. I'm alone, except for staff to wait my every need until Christian gets back from New York. I have a private suite as big as my former apartment: with bedroom, with huge glass windows overlooking its own balcony. It doesn't stop there; there's a huge bathing room with shower and tub and his and hers dressing rooms. I need dress only if I leave the owners suite because I'm not alone when the apartment is still occupied by staff.

I enjoy the feel of fresh air against my bare skin. I grab my favorite pair of cut off jeans, Daisy Duke's. They're frayed out to the limits of common decency and I wouldn't ever wear them in public either. I idly fluff a little tuft of pubic hair which has grown back some since the honeymoon; I yank the Daisy Dukes up over the tiny panties. I select a pretty red peasant top with a V neck and slide it over my head. The soft fabric titillates my nipples as it falls into place. There, I'm pretty much covered.

As I approach the kitchen I inhale delightful scent of Gail's cooking as it approaches fruitarian. It's already evening down on the ground but up here in the sky, it is still light. I watch the changing light from the balcony door. I look at Belinda: "What is that noise? It sounds like its right outside?"

Belinda eases me to the side so she can take my place me at the door. Gail has paused her cooking to listen. They exchange questioning glances. Belinda checks her powerful flashlight as she prepares to search the balcony. Sawyer has appeared. Was he summoned somehow? Sawyer takes up a backup position at the door as Belinda takes the lead in searching the balcony.

The distant background sounds of the city is barely disturbed by Belinda as she searches behind chairs, chaise lounges and other deck furnishings. She uses her light to inspect the overhead and down over the railing into the inky darkness. She stands still and we all listen to the night. She's found nothing.

I feel guilty. My paranoid silliness has created this huge unnecessary fuss. I'm embarrassed. I should apologize. I think Christian would rarely apologize to staff. Heck he rarely admits when he's wrong.

Before I have a change of heart, I blurt out "Sorry for the trouble!" I suddenly wish Christian were here and in charge, which he does so easily. My cheeks are red and burning with embarrassment again.

"It's always my pleasure to ensure your safety. It's no trouble, Mrs Grey." Belinda exclaims.

''Well, thank you." I am perfectly capable of running my own affairs, Christian expects me to run SIP. I need to get used to being in control, I think.

Gail suggests formally "Mrs Grey, are you ready to dine?" I scowl at her use of my formal name.

"Yes, Mrs Jones, I am. I'd like to DINE on the balcony. Is that's alright?" I stare at Belinda and Sawyer silently daring them to disapprove.

"Certainly, Ma'am" Gail answers me.

"Join me, please." I indicate the group of staff. I'm going to take the opportunity to learn more about them. Normally staff dines separately, in their quarters.

"Help me with the table, please," Gail addresses Sawyer. Belinda follows Sawyer onto the balcony where they position the table and chairs.

Sawyer stands politely to seat me. We dine on bacon wrapped pork, wild rice, chef's salad, fresh fruit in tall stemware. Dinner is delicious but it's a subdued meal. No one is particularly talkative in front of me.

We are finished eating so we clear the table to the kitchen. The furniture is replaced to its original position.

Unexpectedly, Belinda rushes past when more debris bounces off the balcony railing. "What was that?" I exclaim as she probes the darkness above with her light.

"SOB, the roof!" Sawyer shouts as he rushes to the stairwell. He crashes through the Emergency Exit door with a thud and bounds up the stairs two at a time until he's lost to our view.

"Ana get inside. Stay back from the windows." Belinda directs, formality gone.

Gail takes my hand firmly and steers me inside, to the kitchen. She urges me to sit at the island counter while she tidies the kitchen. All of us listen intently for noises or even gun shots from above. I'm anxious for Sawyer, as we all are. I don't hear anything that would enlighten us. Belinda remains on high alert, on the balcony. She remains near that place near the railing but gives Gail and I no further clues.

There's shouting from above. I don't catch all the words. Several nondescript black objects appear. There is some glancing blow off the railing. Other items hurtle past. Then a long silence. There is noise from far below … Its indistinct babble of several raised voices. Belinda is at the railing, looking down now. She looks up and waves me off before looking down again.

After an interval, Belinda comes in and says "The Police are on scene already. We'll have company shortly."

"Ana, I brought your robe or would you care to change to a different outfit?" I look down. My nipples are standing prominently to attention, probing the fabric. I cover them with my hands. They are sensitive. Am I excited? Why? Gail has brought me the stunning dressing gown, the same one I wore for hair dresser before the masquerade ball. I'm still shocked by how many clothes I have. I'm no longer a college student. I'm Christian's wife… and now his business partner. I thank Gail as I slip into the splendid dressing gown.

Sawyer comes down in the elevator and goes straight into our Security Room. Belinda joins him. Gail and I follow her in. Sawyer… and now all of us are reviewing the CC cameras footage. I'm not enlightened by what I see.

I sure hope Sawyer isn't thinking of altering the video. "No, Ma'am, I would never do that." Sawyer sounds miffed.

Shit, I didn't intend to say that out loud. I've got to watch my mouth.

"Mrs Grey, I… We… will voluntarily give full and truthful statements to the authorities if requested. I want to verify as much information as possible before making a statement on the record. I need to call them before they come calling; it looks better and improves their attitude."

"Agreed," I answer with a nod.

Sawyer picks up the phone from the conference table and makes the call. He's careful to describe us as possible witnesses. We don't have long to wait.

Several Crime Scene Investigators are doing whatever CSI's do on the balcony. I see bright lights and camera flashes. I wonder how the person whose body must be splattered on the sidewalk might be linked to our roof of our home or is it just coincidence. Why were they up there? Burglars? Robbers? Kidnappers?

"This is quite the place you have here," the detective tries to lead me. There is a lot of nude themed art.

"My husband is a patron of the arts," I reply in a clipped tone.

He tries again: "It's a big place."

"Yes." I think of the playroom behind its securely locked door. Christian would not permit the Police poking around the apartment. I spy a Police lady detective inspecting Gail's herb garden on the kitchen window ledge. Does she think Christian would allow weed to be grown on his window ledge?

"How many people live with you?" then he asks me.

"There's just my husband and myself at present. There are separate quarters for staff to stay in the other wing."

"Where is your husband?"

"Is there anyone else unaccounted for?"

"There are no residents unaccounted for. I told you, Mr Grey is out of town on business. Mr Taylor is accompanying him."

The detective makes scratches on his pad.

As the Detectives question us, I become aware that we've been separated to different corners of the great room. I'm frustrated that I can't hear all the others questioning and especially the answers. I don't know much… I think we know less than they do. I sense the detective is trying to get me to say something… to confess to something but we don't know what. I'm getting increasingly nervous. I wish the Police would tell us what they know or think they know.

I am surprised when a female officer asks "about the state of Christian's and my relationship. Then, she asks if I am being held against my will. The nerve of her! She eyes all the armed security surrounding us. I assure her that Christian and I are happily married… newlyweds in fact. She might have seen our recent nuptials on the news."

I catch Gail being questioned about Mr Grey's possible interests in other women. I know the answer, I don't hear her answer. I'm not concerned.

Sawyer is being questioned about the helicopter. Where it is? If it might have been used to dislodge someone from the roof? "Is Mr Grey in the habit of launching romantic rivals from the roof?" What makes you think this a romantic rival? Perhaps Mrs Grey has former boyfriends in the shadows?

Sawyer explains that the Grey Enterprises helicopter is at a secured hanger at SeaTac. Its extensive damages are being evaluated by the FAA after the recent forced landing.

It's gotten late. I'm quite tired, in fact. Gail intervenes. She's heated some wedges of blueberry pie for me. I politely offer one to the detective which he declines. I'd rather he left. Mmm, the pie is good. I'm exhausted, barely able to keep my head out of the plate.

"Thwack Thwack, Thwack, Thwack…" I yank my head up as helicopter blades beat the air. My first thought is Charlie Tango, but it can't be. The sound is off slightly and I know CT's out of service, being repaired… if it can even be repaired. Anyway Christian is still out of town. Again, "Thwack Thwack, Thwack, Thwack…" I see Sawyer at the big windows. The CSIs on the balcony are annoyed by the strong rotor blast blowing dirt and dust around their work area.

"Detain anyone who gets off in my crime scene. Impound that damn 'copter if it lands." The detective bellows into his walkie talkie. "I don't care if its TV news or who they are, arrest their ass. Get Air Traffic Control to close the area."

I insist to the detective that any further questioning be postponed to another day. "Mr Sawyer, please close up. " I turn on my heel leaving him to deal with the detective who bluntly states he is going to secure the crime scene. I almost turn around. I want to shout 'what do you mean CRIME SCENE? This is my home. We've done nothing wrong.' Gail has my sleeve and steers me to the bedroom.

"I trust you weren't planning on pitching the owner and might I add, cooperating witness, out on the street like a vagabond." Sawyer says. Oh, Sawyer is referring to me. I guess I am the owner now.

The detective doesn't answer. I think he's a bit miffed.

"I can supply a key to the balcony door. Balconies are parts of each respective apartment"

"OK. I'll apply a seal." The detective grumpily agrees.

"The rooftop and helipad are not part of the penthouse apartment. Any resident could use it but I'm unaware of any residents who have. There's the pass code on the elevator and a key to enter the stair well from the garage or lobby but roof access isn't restricted. I suppose in this post 9-1-1 world, the unthinkable becomes thinkable."

The detective gives me a questioning look.

"The helipad would be a last ditch FIRE EVACUATION route."

Sawyer has sent Belinda to sleep, while he takes the first watch. Gail guides me toward my bed room, I stop short inside the doorway. The room has been tidied since my earlier nap. It seems like a lifetime ago. The drapes are closed for the night. The coverlet is now wrinkle free and a sparkling clean sleep set is laid out for me. I'm loathe to put them against my sweaty skin. The events of this evening have left me feeling dirty… grimy. Why?

I decide on a nice soak in the tub. I start the warm water running. Gail appears at my elbow and adds some lavender bath oil. I drop my used clothes on the floor and step into the warm sea. Ahhh.

Ana, Ana, Wake up, dear. My eyes blink open. I blink rapidly several times to focus. My body feels like an iceberg. The warm bath water is now cold. I stand up, hit the drain knob. Gail holds me steady as I step over the tub side. I step under the warm water fall of the shower. She washes me quickly, and then towels me dry. I'm in bed, I can't keep my eyes open but my mind is racing with the events of the day I pull Gail's sleeve "Sleep with me."

"I'm right here." Gail says as I drift.

Sawyer sees the authorities out, then double checks the locks on all the windows and doors. There have been a huge number of unknown people in the apartment today. This is no day to be sloppy about security. In the security room, he notices the Closed Circuit TV has been turned on and remote accessed. That is certainly Mr Grey's doing. Sawyer smiles a victory smile to himself. He doesn't require a flight tracker inquiry to know that the GREY jet is or soon will be inbound to SeaTac. OK, the math: 2600 air miles, 533 knots at cruise (585 mph), about 5 and a half hours of flight time. She's faster and more economical since the new winglets and upgraded engines on the last annual service.

Set two more places at the breakfast table, Mrs Jones. The flight crew will be happy to be home. How Mr Grey's mood will be is an open question.

It's barely light when I feel the bed move with Gail getting up. "You sleep," she says gently. "I need to start breakfasts."

An hour later, I find Gail in the kitchen. "Mr Grey and Jason are home." She whispers. "No idea when they arrived. Jason is in bed. Mr Grey is asleep in the recliner." I watch as she moves silently across the great room to gather some used dishes. Christian must have snacked after arrival. He stirs from his sleep.

"Mr Grey, I'm sorry to disturb you."

"You're very quiet."

"I'm sorry you couldn't sleep in your own bed, Sir."

I interrupt their conversation. "I was exhausted. Gail, put me to bed. I asked her to stay with me, and she did."

Christian nods. "Prescott was on duty when we arrived and informed us that Gail was with Mrs Grey for which I'm grateful."

"Really, Sir. You know how pleased I am to care for Mrs Grey."

"Very well." Christian stands up erect, stretching then straitening himself up. He's just yummy, dressed in shirt sleeves. His fine suit pants fit him so well. His fine linen shirt has an extra button open over his chest and the sleeves turned up just beneath his elbows.

I stand in front of him. I am going to kiss him properly. He is going to feel my body through my night clothes. I WANT him to feel me. I put my arms around his neck, drawing myself against him as I kiss him. "I'm glad you're home." I whisper in his ear.

"Me too," he answers.

Christian's back in command.

"Set up the dining room for a working brunch, please, Mrs Jones." He pauses for a minute. "I'm going to change." I feel like I'm stalking him as I follow him to our bedroom. I practically have to run to keep him in sight as his long legs carry him along.

The bedroom is empty when I arrive and Christian is nowhere to be seen. His dressing room is empty. I can hear the shower running. Christian will be naked in there. Wet and naked. The thought draws me like a moth to a flame.

I wiggle out of my night clothes and toss them aside in the general direction of the hamper. They don't make it. I don't care. I've already swiveled toward the sound of running water.

Christian stands as beautiful as a Greek statue, skin glistening under the steamy torrent. I wasn't sure he saw me but as I reach past him for his favorite apple blossom body wash, he moves over to share the shower spray. I bet he thinks he'll get to wash me… well, yes but not just yet. I start rubbing the body wash into his skin. I duck under his arm, then wash his back, spreading it with my own skin. Oh, yes, I have his full attention!

I rub my way around his body with my sudsy sexy dance. His strong arm encircles my waist as he holds the stainless bar. I bend over so the deep cleft between my breasts rides on his tensed forearm. I cling to the shower bar too as I grind my butt against his groin. I straddle his swollen sausage between my long legs rocking back and forth along my wet slit. I am powerful as I glide along his length. I glory in his hardness as he rubs me.

I impale myself on him again and again. I cross my ankles clutching him firmly into me. His cream is mine, it belongs to me. I'm claiming him, all of him. There's no way I'll let it wash away…

I hook my thumbs in the waist of my black panties as I work them up the curves of my legs and position them on my hips I reach behind where my fingers deftly fasten the band of my matching black bra. I cup each breast in turn, cradle it in the lace. I look up just as Christian looks away. I smile inwardly.

Christian uses his remote to open the curtains revealing our spectacular view of the Seattle skyline. The roof tops glisten in the bright morning Sun. I shriek as I seek to cover myself with the blue dress I held in my hands. There appears to be a loop of black thread hanging off the roof, over our balcony. As my eyes focus I realize it's a rope.

Suddenly we are not alone. Taylor, Belinda, and Sawyer have barged into our bedroom without so much as 'a by your leave'. Guns are in the process of being drawn, Christian puts down his phone… he must have triggered the EMERENGCY signal. Shit! How embarrassing. I'm only half dressed. Covering myself as best l can, I retreat quickly to my dressing room.

Could someone hide here? I turn up the lights up bright as my eyes sweep the corners. Belinda calls out to me as she follows in my footsteps.

"Mrs Grey, Ana?"

"You've found me."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm to stay with you."

My husband's doing no doubt. It's kind of unfair; the men have taken over my bedroom albeit for good cause… I'm a virtual prisoner until I'm decent. I look at the dark blue dress I'm holding. Its V neck with short sleeves and a wide, over the knee skirt. Modest, professional. I picked well. I slip it on. I hastily run my brush through my hair and secure it with a hair clip. I swiftly check myself in the full length mirror. This will do.

Now I'm ready to make my appearance in the bedroom. But I have mixed feelings. Is there a body hanging from my window? A wave of revulsion sweeps me. I don't want to see a dead body when I step out. I do the only logical thing.

I ask Belinda. "Is there a body hanging from my window?"

"I don't believe so, Ma'am."

"Would you check, please?" I'm asking her to violate her orders to stay with me.

"No, no bodies. Just the rope you saw. I just texted Sawyer. "

"Very well. Let's go."

With a determined step I lead the way into the bedroom. It's empty. What a let down. The men are all on my balcony. They must have unlocked the previously locked door. Well, of course. There's no other way out there… The loop of rope is still hanging from above, over everyone's heads. Except… from above.

I intend to join the others on my balcony, I encounter Sawyer first. There is no vulnerable key hole on the outside of the glass door, just a large handle on the inside to tighten an oversized cramming latch. He looks up and softly says "There are pry marks on the bottom edge of the door but the heavy latch held tight." I thank him with my eyes. He extends his hand to me. "Ma'am," his hand motions indicate an area to be stepped over. There are areas of carpet intentionally now blocked by folding chairs, so I do so.

Christian and Taylor stand examining the railing. At my entrance, they separate yielding a space for me. I take my demands straight to the top.

"Christian, what is it?"

"Foot prints on the railing."

" And the door?"

"Attempted unsuccessfully to force it open."

I gasp, covering my mouth. I'm thinking thoughts I dare not say. I was naked; possibly only separated from this stalker by a pane of glass. Did I sense the heat of his eyes on me? Christian would go ballistic if he knew. I must keep my thoughts to myself.

I feel hunted like a WANTED criminal. "What does he want with me?" If anyone spoke, I didn't hear it, lost in my own thoughts.

To hurt me? To murder me? To kidnap me? To hold me for ransom? To defile me? To use me for their prurient entertainment? My dark thoughts are interrupted by the vibrating hum of a phone's signal. Christian's phone.

"Mrs Jones has our meal ready. It would be impolite to keep her waiting." Mr Grey commands. Mrs Jones has set out a country breakfast into a marvelous buffet. We fill our plates with scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and nicely browned sausage links. Gail tends the waffle maker, delivering us her scratch made waffles. Baskets of fresh blueberry muffins are on the table.

I hear the ping of the elevator and look up in time to see Christian greet Andrea. She has a small case in her hands as he guides her to the dining area. Jason has vacated his place opposite me, for Andrea. My seat is at Christian's other elbow. Gail exchanges coffee to Andrea for her case which she stores under the side buffet. Andrea sets her iPad on the corner of the table and begins setting it up. Gail has her hand on the chair back as the two quietly converse, ear to ear. This the first time I've seen Andrea out of uniform. She's stunningly beautiful, with diamond stud earrings twinkling through her blonde locks. Andrea is many men's wet dream. With Christian's lack of interest in women, it's no wonder people questioned his sexuality.

I hope that's a new iPad," Christian says curtly, "I don't want to mix whatever this turns out to be with company business."

"It's not brandy new. It's a 'Turn In' we had."

I see Christian's expression silently become become a scowl. Andrea quickly adds "Barney scrubbed the memory to MILSPEC and reset the software to factory."

Christian's expression softens. "I know."

As breakfast is finished, Christian starts the questioning. I'm expecting an inquisition of sorts and I'm not disappointed. Everyone has been struggling with restraint, like the room was about to explode.

"What is going on? What ARE they after? After I pay for all this security, everything is all F-ed up! What DO I have to do?" Christian is finally letting his frustrations' out. Is he about to fire everyone?

Jason is the only one who dares interrupt. "Sir… May I suggest we revisit this after we know what has happened? I hope it will answer some of your… our… questions. "

"What was the first thing you noticed that was out of ordinary?" Taylor prompts.

Sawyer answers, "I'd never seen the truck around here before. It was such a huge vehicle to be in the garage, it looked so out of place. It blocked the view of the CC cameras and made your spaces difficult to use." Sawyer pushes buttons on the TV remote and first the surveillance footage appears, then close up stills of the truck exterior and interior, shot through the windows with his phone. Sawyer finishes with the statement "Up to this point, the vehicle just seemed odd. I'd seen all I could from the outside, there was no one hiding in it and it was locked. I didn't see anything that justified forcing entry."

"Anything else?"Taylor prompts.

"I didn't make even a cursory inspection of your vehicles but saw nothing visibly amiss. Once the 'accident' had occurred the Police secured the garage, I made a judgment call to stay clear until the Police were finished."

Then Prescott takes her turn. "Just because it wasn't concealing a squad of Special Forces, it could still have been staged as a getaway vehicle. We had already spoken to Gail by phone and everything normal upstairs, in the apartment. The priority was to get Mrs Grey safely into the secure space and that's exactly what we did."

"Mr Grey, the driver of the truck went to a lot of effort to block the view of the security cameras. We can't see the perp's activities but he had ample opportunity to tamper with your cars." Taylor pauses.

Sawyer offers, perhaps a bit lamely, "We certainly planned to check the cars for tampering but unfolding events precluded it. The place was crawling with cops after the jumper's body was discovered. Then the Police Tape was around your cars to the elevator enclosure door."

Breaking an awkward silence I offer "That big van seemed to me like a false alarm. My armed guards got me safety past the boogey man. Once we were home, safe and sound, I took a shower and a nap before dinner. I wanted to eat outside, on the balcony."

"If I'd have known you were sleeping, I should have detail inspected the vehicles at that time," Sawyer chimes in. I feel guilty for lounging around in my birthday suit, wasting the time Sawyer needed and it irritates me as if I was called to the principal's office. I look down at my hands. There's silence again. These intrusive thoughts temper my joy from my self-indulgent romp. Oh, but it felt so good.

"Woulda. Shoulda, Coulda" Taylor remarks. "Let's get back on track."

"OK, We'd set up to eat on the balcony. I heard something small, like pebbles, bounce off the railing. I ran over to check it out, but there was no one there." Prescott states. "There was a dusting of… fresh dust, pebbles and dirt. I used my Bright Light to search first below the railing and then the edges of the roof above. I thought I heard noises coming from the roof."

Sawyer interrupts. "I heard the noise. I shouted for Prescott to get Mrs Grey inside where it was safer. I rushed to the roof. I needed to put a stop to this. Our security had been breached repeatedly!"

This sounds like Sawyer is resigning. I don't want him to resign.

"I was up the stairs in a flash. I cautiously opened the door. I saw someone at the edge of the roof, across the helipad. He was dressed all in black but I couldn't say if it was a man or woman. I shouted: "Hey. Hey You! STOP! STOP!" The intruder disappeared from view. At first I thought they'd just ducked down. "

"My weapon was in one hand, my Bright Light in the other. I'm not sure when I drew them so I pause and glance down, and both are held properly. My finger rests against the frame, not on the actual trigger, in the safe position. There's no time to pat myself on my back, I quickly resume my search," he says. "I arrive where I last saw the person. He's nowhere to be found, nor is there anyone else but there is a rope dangling from a railing and various items of rock climbing equipment. I hear loud noises from far below. I looked over the side. I could barely make out the intruder spread eagled on the sidewalk, as ant sized people were beginning to circle around him. I see Police cars arrive with their red and blue lights flashing on the roofs. The scene is already swarming with cops… and then they'll be up here. The Greys need my protection now more than ever. I realized how tightly my hands are gripping the railing near where his so very recently held on for his life. I told him to STOP… to surrender… not to jump."

"I used my phone to record the scene below. Without disturbing anything, I snapped pictures of the items on the roof. Once the Police were called, I expected we'll no longer have access to record the evidence. Yes, I had to call the Police. I can only hope any accomplices have fled and with that thought, I left the roof."

"When I reached the apartment, I'm relieved to find Belinda has everything under control. We reunite in our Security Office where I was checking the CCTV."

Belinda cuts in. "I kept everyone inside and safely away from the doors. Initially, there was the briefest sound from the balcony. I couldn't tell whether the intruder tried to make entry or perhaps tried to save himself as he fell. Nothing after that except sounds from ground level."

I remain silent. I'm less confused now than a few moments ago. How did we get into this and so quickly? At first happy to feel protected and safe, I don't know what to feel now. Can this possibly be real? I bite my tongue and continue my silence but in vain.

Christian's voice calls me from my reverie. "Ana?" What does he want from me? I didn't do anything except follow directions and stay out of the way.

"I have nothing to add."

"Darling, is there anything you want to ASK? Anything you want to KNOW?"

Oh, Christian is boosting my Executive Authority. I'm not certain I am worthy. .

"Mrs Grey. What about today?" Andrea asks gently. "Apparently I arrived after the excitement."

Christian answers before I can get my thoughts together. "After showering, Mrs Grey and I were getting dressed."

Christian wants me to assert myself, then I mustn't let him talk over me like this. I cut in. "I held up this dress to show Christian, when he opened the drapes."

"It's a very nice dress," Andrea says.

Is she trying to placate me? I won't stand for it! "Out the window, I saw something that shouldn't have been there. What I could see was a rope from the roof. I was afraid someone was dangling from it. Then all hell broke loose! The whole Security Team burst in. And I'm left there putting on a show, standing there in my underwear! I covered myself as best possible and ran into my dressing room."

"Mrs Grey, I assure you we weren't looking at you, we were there to protect you," Luke says.

"One hundred percent," Taylor joins.

"I better not catch you ogling my wife," Christian states with an angry tone, though I'm uncertain how serious he is. I think if that happened, they'd gone by now.

"So what did you expect me to do with so many men in the room? Parade around undressed like it's nothing. It's so embarrassing!" I spell it out for these lunk headed men.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think about that. You handled it very well from the position we put you in. Sorry."

"Belinda came into my dressing room to guard me so I had no idea what was happening after that." I still have some frost in my voice. Christian gives no sign if he notices.

Taylor picks up the narrative. "We opened the drapes fully. The doors were all tightly latched and locked. We took the time to visually search for any intruder before opening the door.

Sawyer adds, "I could see dusty footprints through the glass. We were careful to not disturb them. I laid out evidence rulers and photographed them. I made additional evidence rules with the printer."

"The trail of footprints quite obviously led to the balcony railing. The loop of rope that Ana saw was out of reach, though it likely fell back."

"We still don't know how many intruders there were. If there were more, they could have been at Mrs Grey's bedroom and the main balconies at the same time. There didn't appear to be finger prints, the Perp probably wore gloves. The Crime Lab crew shouldn't have trouble with the DNA. There was lots of biologics on the bedroom glass."

Belinda leans toward Sawyer and whispers "… crude …" but her eyes are on ME!

Am I dense? What joke are they making about me? Biologics… window glass… The perp… the intruder… stood at the separation between the drapes and jerked off, masturbated, while looking at me naked. My stomach retches. I throw both hands over my mouth and bolt from the table knocking over my chair. I run from the room and into our bathroom. It's here that Christian finds me, on my knees hugging the porcelain thrown.

Why did he have to find me like this? At least my hair is mostly still up, out of the line of fire. "I'm alright" I sputter as I push him away. Boy, what a liar I am. Who knew?

His sperm on my glass. His sperm. Biologics. Semen. I wretch again. The only sperm I ever interacted with is my husband's, not some obsessed pervert. My face is now hot with anger… or embarrassment? If I speak to Sawyer now it can only end one way, with his dismissal. He disrespected me. I am furious.

Christian is standing behind me and resolutely says "I'll speak to Sawyer."

"I'd like to do it myself."

"As you wish, Mrs Grey." Even Christian is unwilling to cross me in my current state of mind.

I struggle to my feet; my hands sweep my skirt open for inspection. It looks OK but I dare not risk it. I strip the dress off, determined to put on a clean one. Christian steers me to the sink where he washes my face with a warm cloth. He runs some fresh water for me to rinse my mouth.

I take Christian with me so I don't lose track of him. I don't want Sawyer to approach him without me. I pick the first dress I come to; they are all nice and hold it up for his approval. He selected my new wardrobe, so approval is quite certain. I slip the dress on. Christian steps behind me and kindly zips my dress.

I step in front of Christian when we enter the dining room. My chair is now upright. Sawyer scrambles to stand at attention to seat me. "Mrs Grey, I apologize for my rudeness…"

"Sawyer, I'll speak to you later in my study." There, that's handled for now. Let him stew.

In our absence, another batch of blueberry muffins has appeared, hot from Mrs Jones oven.

Christian has Andrea read back the notes, "The footprints to the balcony railing. The rope that Ana saw was high, out of reach." … "We don't know how many intruders. There didn't appear to be finger prints, the Perp probably wore gloves. We'll need Crime Lab to do the DNA. There were what appeared to be smears of body fluids on the bedroom glass."

"OK, Thank you, Andrea".

"Taylor, Sawyer, anything more on the bedroom?"

Their replies were Negative.

The CC TV feeds show the authorities are winding up their work on the sidewalk. The Police tape is gone from the garage and the big white van with the new decals for Elevator Service is gone… impounded as evidence. Belinda, take Luke with you. Now that the Perp's van is gone, search in and under all our vehicles. "Belinda you stay as lookout, while Sawyer does the searches. Keep your communications on," Christian directs.

"Yes, Sir," they both answer. Belinda steps in to speak to Christian in a whisper. When our two security operatives appear on the CCTV, Sawyer is wearing a fine navy blue suit and Belinda looks stunning in a little black dress. It features short sleeves, a scoop neck line and a modest over the knee hem. She wears diamond stud earrings and a fine gold chain carries a single diamond sparkler that lies at her throat. Belinda could pass for a model as she poses with my Audi R8 sports car. Good cover story. Sawyer expands a selfie stick and takes pictures under the car. He documents cutting damage to both front and rear brake lines on this car. In the apartment, the photos appear on our screen. Sabotage!

My armored sedan is in a space we usurped from another resident. It's exposed to cameras, but it get's thoroughly inspected. Gail's car likewise passes inspection.

Christian's armored limo was securely locked in the hanger at Boeing field during their trip to NY. It was parked on the street in front of the entrance when they arrived home in the small hours of the morning and the garage spaces under Police guard. "Mr Grey, Would you like us to bring your car into the garage?"

"Yes. Be cautious until you have a chance to inspect it in the garage."

"Yes, Sir."

The well dressed couple takes the elevator up to the lobby. Sawyer engages the concierge in conversation about the jumper. Belinda looks though news papers in the lobby while listening in to loiterers conversations. She finds the view through windows overlooking the accident scene mostly obstructed by drapes. When she moves them aside to look, the concierge hurries over. The building management doesn't enjoy the unfavorable attention. The coroner has done his work and the body has been removed. The remaining Police are searching the flower boxes and vegetation for any trace evidence.

The concierge tells Sawyer that if the Police have identified the victim, it's not been made public. With all gentlemanly courtesies, Sawyer conducts Belinda out to the curb. Sawyer acts as chauffer and the door man elegantly hands Belinda into the back seat. Luke smoothly tips the door man to keep their cover safe.

As Sawyer pulls smoothly from the curb, Belinda hikes up her skirt as she draws her compact nine millimeter pistol from her thigh holster.

"Eyes on the road buddy," Belinda directs. She knows Luke to be professional at all times and even protective but neither are beyond a friendly dig.

"I'm just watching for tails." Sawyer makes a sudden hard turn, without signaling. Belinda takes up a six inch facial mirror from the rear console but it's skillfully trained out the rear window.

A series of turns finds us approaching the ESCALA'S entrance from the opposite direction. "The brakes are working satisfactorily. Still can't rule out explosives." He turns to me as in and we wait for the gate to rise.

"Show time."

"Yes, I'm ready."

Sawyer neatly noses the limo in its correct space. He barely unlatches his door but remains seated, alert, on guard. Belinda flings the car door open like she hasn't a care in the world. Her feet are clad in running shoes. She leaves the door open as she nonchalantly walks toward the glass elevator enclosure. Her hands are lost in her full skirts, one of which conceals her ready pistol.

One might be forgiven if they mistakenly concluded the attractive woman was Ana. We didn't offer them luxury of time to evaluate the situation. An attack or kidnapping attempt might be initiated prematurely giving themselves away. Belinda had knowingly volunteered to be bait.

Belinda strolls around the elevator enclosure; peers out the glass, presses the elevator call button and inspects it when the doors open. She signals to Sawyer who emerges from his cover position beside the limo.

Belinda stands between the cars and hikes up her skirt to holster her pistol… then smoothes her dress. She recovers her heels and clutch then closes her door. Sawyer completes securing the limo. Sawyer steps behind her assuming the protectors stance. "Luke it's comforting to know you have my back,"

"Bell, I always have your six" and pushes the elevator call button.

As the doors close I can feel his fleeting glance on my back side. "I always know when you look!"

Mrs Jones meets us as we step off the elevator. Breakfast has been cleared away and the dishwasher is running. It's hard to eves drop with the noise. "Mr Grey and the Police are in the master bedroom and its balcony. Mrs Grey is in her study. Taylor seems to have vanished."

"Oh, yes. Mrs Grey wanted a word with me. The assignment has kept my mind off of it. I hope she won't still want to fire me."

A Text arrives to both Sawyer and me. "REPORT PLS."

As suspected I find Taylor in the security office located on the hall way leading to the staff wing.

"Nice outfit. You really look like Mrs Grey at first glance."

"Thankyou. Mrs Grey loaned me her dress. I'll see that it's returned, of course."

"Just hang it in the laundry room" Gail directs across the hall, with her eyes.

"Okay, Good. Is there a hurry or next time I change? I could leave it here." And go back to my room in the staff quarters wearing only my unmentionables and my pistol,

"The Report; we weren't followed, at least not this time. We didn't find any bogies."

I cut Sawyer off. "The brakes on the R8 were cut. You should have Luke's pictures on your phone by now. It's not the only possibility but taking out the most likely pursuer vehicle makes me suspect kidnapping was the intention."

"Sir, a word, please?" Taylor addresses Christian who is in our bedroom with the detective while a couple of CSIs process the balcony.

"Yes, Taylor, what have you got to report?" Mr Grey follows Taylor back into the hall where we wait.

"The brakes on your R8 are cut, a ragged cut like a serrated blade. "

"I sent pictures of the damage to your phone, Sir." Sawyer adds.

"The unsub wore gloves, there aren't finger prints. We don't see anything to be gained by letting the Crime Lab IMPOUND your car. No telling when you would get it back."

"No, No. I want my car back A.S.A.P. Have the dealer pick it up."

"I don't recommend that Sir. The dealer will only install OEM parts. The brake lines with the braided stainless surface coverings are not available from them but Seattle Racing has them."

Christian nods his accent and says "Very well. See to it."

"Sawyer and Prescott ran the decoy operation, as directed and didn't flush out any additional threats."

"Well Done, you all."

"Thank you, Sir."

Christian continues "The detective told me that they've tentatively identified the jumper as Jack Hyde."

"The same Jack Hyde who assaulted Ana… I beg your pardon, Sir… Mrs Grey, which swiftly resulted in his termination from SIP." Taylor completes the identification with a wry smile on hs face.

Sawyer presents himself in my study. "Mrs Grey, you wanted to see me."

"Yes. Sawyer, your remarks were out of line and at my expense. You couldn't have humiliated me more, if you tried. I need to have complete faith in all my staff and employees. IF you want to continue as my Security, I need to know you'll not just protect me physically."

"I apologize. I did try to make some humor. It wasn't intended to be at your expense."

"All right. See that it doesn't happen again."

"Belinda the dress looks so good on you. If you like it, you may keep it."

"Thank you, Mrs Grey. It's a very nice dress."

I give her a hug.

"I'm glad you got our bedroom back from the Cops. Gail cleaned it… so it feels like ours again." I tell Christian as I stand at the glass door, in my fluffy robe, clutching my flashlight.

"Will there be anything else, Mrs Grey?" Gail once again appears at my elbow.

"I'm just considering having Security sleep out on the balconies going forward."

We both laugh. "No, Gail, and thank you."

Gail has turn down fresh sheets for us. Christian, now where is he? I hear noises from the bathroom. He must be getting ready for bed. The heavy drapes begin to close seemingly on their own. I'm startled for just a second before I realize its Christian being playful with the remote control.

Christian isn't back yet. I have plenty of time to check the balcony one more time. I separate the panels of the heavy cloth and squeeze in against the glass. The beam of my bright flashlight reflects off the glass blinding me. I stumble and fumble until I cup the light against the glass and I can see the empty balcony as I move the beam around.

Suddenly, without warning, I am grabbed from behind. I am enveloped by the curtain. Oh My God! I'm being KIDNAPPED! I think NOT! Not without a fight. I strike out with my fists. My light is gone. I kick out. I strike with my knees. In the darkness, my mind sees Jack's grinning face. I fight to free myself from those strong arms that hold me and the acres of fabric that envelope me.

"I scream. I yell: "No, Stop! Let me go!" I cry and cry out. The hot tears burn my face, blinding me. My nose runs streams of booger snot. I can't breathe. "I can't BREATH!" I scream the words out. I stumble and fall, the fabric tears. With a loud crack the curtain valance breaks and comes crashing down on me. The fabric cushions the blow as some hard parts hit my head. THUD! "OUCH!"

I hear voices. I cry out through my tears. "Get off me! Let me go!" I fight the cloth that covers my head.

The voices are all around me. My breathing is loud in my ears.

"What have you done?" at least I think that is what I hear. I'm unsure of the voice.

"Get it off her." I'm sure that's Gail's voice.

The cumbersome weight of the valance is lifted off me. I continue to claw at the bulky curtain confining me. I sense the edge of the curtain lift from the trickle of fresh air and a blur of light near my feet. I kick and kick to free my feet.

I continue to struggle. Christian is here. He must be. I see his sweet face through the fog. His voice, I hear his voice. He'll protect me. Christian scoops me up in his strong arms.

Gail's voice says "… chair…" and one appears in my vision. "Don't STARE at her" Mrs Jones demands. . I clutch the remains of my torn and tattered robe to my throat in an attempt to cover my nakedness. Who's she talking to? Shit! All the staff are in the room! How did they get here? They stand amidst the ruins of the drapery system.

Christian sets me gently in the chair. He kneels at my knee. I must look a sight. My face is red and puffy. My hair disheveled. He uses a soft wet facecloth to clean my face… where did that come from?

Christian whispers softly in my ear. "I love you. You're safe. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He repeats the words, again and again. Finally he asks me "shower?"

I can barely squeak out "Yes" so I nod my head.

The shower is running and a waterproof shower seat is at hand. A naked Christian waits on me. He washes, rinses, and conditions my hair. He massages my face with his thumbs. I'm like a limp rag as he washes me all over. He washes away the dirt, sweat, tears and suffocating scent of fear.

Gail returns with fresh towels and a new fluffy robe. A very naked Christian growls at her "Mrs Jones, if you please!" She disappears as magically as she appeared.

As the shower washes my tears away, and my brain receives sufficient oxygen my mind becomes capable of conscious thought.

"I didn't see a prisoner?"

"… yes, no…"

"Christian, did you catch him or not?"

"Ana, darling…" What Bull Shit is about to be foisted on me? I'm not listening,

"Christian, I couldn't hear you." I smoothly lie. "Please start again."

"There was no one to catch."

The shower is running and a waterproof shower seat is at hand. A naked Christian waits on me. He washes, rinses, and conditions my hair. He massages my face with his thumbs. I'm like a limp rag as he washes me all over. He washes away the dirt, sweat, tears and suffocating scent of fear.

Gail returns with fresh towels and a new fluffy robe. A very naked Christian growls at her "Mrs Jones, if you please!" She disappears as magically as she appeared.

Gail returns with fresh towels and a new fluffy robe. A very naked Christian growls at her "Mrs Jones, if you please!" She disappears as magically as she appeared.

As the shower washes my tears away, and my brain receives sufficient oxygen my mind becomes capable of conscious thought.

darling…" What Bull Shit is about to be foisted on me? I'm not listening,

"Christian, I couldn't hear you." I smoothly lie. "Please start again."

"There was no one to catch."

I wipe the water from my eyes so I can see his face.

He's looking down at his hands with a sad look on his face. "It was me. It was all me. I didn't mean to frighten you. Never in a million years."

"Frighten me? FRIGHTEN ME! Good God you scared me half to death. What in the name of all that's Holy… did you think you were doing?"

"The truth is… I saw you moving around behind the curtain like a puppy in a leaf pile. I had an inexplicable urge to touch you in secret. Then it looked like you were falling so I tried to hold you to keep you safe."

"Safe… SAFE? You could have killed me!"

I sit on the shower seat with my head in my hands. He kneels at my feet repeating "I'm sorry. Forgive me. I love you."

"I love you too, Christian." I say. But can I forgive him? How can I forgive him? This day has been a total emotional roller coaster. I can't just throw a switch and turn it off. I stand up to reach for a fluffy towel on the shelf but he beats me to it and starts to dry me. I testily snatch the towel from his hands. "I can do it." He doesn't fight me. He hands me the new fluffy robe before I can reach for it. I'm irritated and I snatch the robe out of his hands. I'm irritated that I'm irritated. The robe feels heavenly against my skin. I pick out my favorite tank and short sleep set and slip into them. It is smooth, sleek and sexy… and makes me feel empowered.

Christian is standing by the door with his towel wrapped around his waist. He thinks he's going to pick me up. NO, he's not!

I charge straight at him. I grab him around the shoulders, pinning his arms and give him a peck on the cheek before pushing him away. I dart away leaving him holding a fluffy robe.

In the bedroom, the shredded curtain and the smashed valance are gone. Mrs Jones commands an Army! The bed has been tided. My flash light is on my night table.

I sit on the bed, swing my legs in and pull the covers to my neck. I say perfunctorily: "Goodnight Christian. I Love You." I lay still like a statue with my eyes wide open. In the darkness Christian does the same. I can't see him but I sense he is awake too.

I throw myself on my side, with way more force than intended. On the bedside table, the LED clock blinks brightly at me 1:24 then 1:25…

"Christian?"

"Yes." I feel the bed move under his weight.

"I'm as far away from you as I can get, but it's the total opposite of what I want."

I squirm out of the PJ bottoms and push back until I am nestled in his arms like matching spoons. I want him. I want him to know that I want him. I want him to know, we'll be Okay.

Christian is trying to control his physical body with his mind. How gentlemanly! I revel in how my bottom perfectly fits his lap. His hand around my waist creeps upward under my top. I find that arm and follow it. I guide his hand between my breasts until I can press it flat over my racing heart.

I have broken his mental concentration. I squirm on him to guide him inside of me. In the darkness, we are made whole.

Prescott brings the Audi sedan to a stop at the curb outside Seattle Independent Press. I gather my things while Sawyer, my bodyguard, scans the periphery for threats before opening the door of the protective car with its executive armor. Satisfied, Sawyer opens the door. He barely gives me room to get out. I refrain from saying anything. He's certainly taking his protection role seriously. He's all over me like a Redhawks baskeball guard. I step on his toe with my heels and smile in his face. Let him complain.

The door is open to Elizabeth Morgan's office is standing open. Head of HR. LIZ isn't there; no one is in there. "Sawyer! In here!" I call out. The room is a shambles, random papers on the floor, drawers opened and contents searched. It looks for all the world as if it were burglarized except her keys sit neatly in the center of her desk.

Sawyer gathers me in a bear hug, pinning my arms to my sides. He frog walks me back to the hallway and has me sit on a cushioned chair. Don't touch anything until we can get some Security in here. He must have signaled Belinda, because she approaches, on full alert. I beg to be set free, just to go to my own office.

I am finding I like Prescott… Belinda… better as she accompanies me to my office. I start to turn the handle but stop and let it quietly return. I turn to Prescott and mouth "It's open." Her pistol is in her hand, close to her hip, on the side away from me. I stand stock still as she pushes the door open with her toe. No bogymen appear. I wait in the hall while she searches behind the door and every corner of my office.

"All clear, Mrs Grey," as Belinda holsters her weapon.

I enter and settle myself behind my desk. A letter occupies the center space of my desk. The letter is from Liz. It reads 'Ana, What I did is beyond forgiveness so I won't ask, I only beg you know that I did not participate willingly. I acted only under the most extreme duress. Jack seduced me and recorded it. He blackmailed me that he'd release the photos to ruin me. I'm ruined now. Elizabeth Morgan