Free Man in Paris

Michael swallowed hard. It had taken nearly a week of almost constant observation, but he'd finally discovered both the source of, and the reason for, the signal disruption. He could leave now, make his report to Ops, and get on with his life.

Yet, he remained as if rooted to the chair, eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of him. His rational mind told him that he didn't need to see anymore, while his conscience whispered that he should allow the boy at least a few minutes of privacy.

Nonetheless, he watched as Seymour undressed, noticing, as if for the first time, that the boy had done quite a bit of growing in the past couple of years. He was still small for his age, but his compact frame carried a solid layer of lean muscle, no doubt due to the physical training that was a part of his daily curriculum.

Michael's mouth grew dry as Seymour wrapped long, slender fingers around his cock, small white teettchitching his full lower lip as he began to stroke himself. His free hand clutched the sheets, twisting them, as his feet planted themselves against the bed and his hips rose to meet his fist. Michael leaned forward without realizing it, and when Seymour moaned softly, the sound seemed to shiver inside Michael's bones.

After only a few minutes, the slender body arched up off the bed and a short, harsh cry echoed through the stillness of the observation room. Michael couldn't help the stray thought that, though Seymour might have been a prodigy in other respects, in this, he was just like any other fifteen-year-old boy.

He turned away from the window, not too surprised to find his own cock hard and aching in his trousers. Taking a few moments to steady himself, he focused on relaxing and centering, not leaving the room until the unwelcome arousal had subsided. It troubled him, his reaction to the boy, but he would take time to consider it later. Right now, he just wanted to prepare his report for Operations, and perhaps take a shower. Though he'd taken one just that morning, he felt inexplicably grubby.

As he rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, he nearly collided with Walter. They stared at each other for a moment, then mumbled their apologies and continued on their respective paths. Inwardly, Michael groaned. Walter was too intelligent not to realize what Michael was doing on a corridor that was generally unused. He'd have to tell Ops that the assignment's security was compromised, and Ops would not be pleased.

On the other hand, it would mean that he'd finally be free of this assignment.

***

After stopping in the commissary for a late-night snack, Michael headed for his quarters. He felt, rather than saw, Walter fall into step beside him.

"Need to talk to you," the older man muttered under his breath.

Michael sighed. He was sure he knew what about, and he surprised himself by saying, "Not here," rather than refusing outright.

"Of course not. Half hour, sub-level ten, #3 storage room." They reached an intersection, and Walter headed left while Michael continued to his quarters.

***

"I do my best
And I do good business
There's a lot of people asking for my time
They're trying to get ahead
They're trying to be a good friend of mine"

Half an hour later, still wondering just why he'd agreed to this meeting, he waited outside the storage room. The only light came from a fixture at the end of the hall, and he kept his back against the wall.

After a minute or two, Walter approached, looking nervous but determined. "I guess you probably know what I wanna talk about," he said, his voice no louder than a murmur.

Michael nodded. "I assume it was you who gave him the device?"

Walter groaned. "And all this time, I thought it was just another camera behind that mirror. How long have you been watching him, anyway?"

"You know I can't tell you that." Michael decided to cut to the chase. "What do you want, Walter?"

"Give him a little more time. I can use it to come up with a glitch in the system that'll convince Ops that it was equipment failure." When Michael didn't answer, Walter continued, "That kid's grown up in a goddamn fishbowl, for God's sake. Is it too much to ask that he get a little privacy once in a while to jack off?"

Michael shook his head. "That's irrelevant. I'll be making my report in the morning." He gazed at Walter for a moment, then softened. "I can't lie for you, or for him."

Walter's face crumpled. "Yeah, I know. I guess I shoulda figured Ops knew what was going on." He glanced over. "Did he already know about the disrupter when he asked me to check the equipment?"

Michael only shrugged, but he knew that Walter would understand. He turned to go, then paused. "Walter, a word of advice."

"What's that?" Walter's voice was weary, resigned.

"Don't try to get rid of the disrupter. It will only make the situation worse. For once, I'd advise being honest." He took a deep breath. "I'll make it clear in my report that there was nothing more covert than an adolescent boy's shyness and your misguided desire to help him."

"Yeah, thanks," Walter said. "So I guess you won't be watching him anymore?"

"That's not my decision to make," Michael said stiffly.

"I got ya." Walter sighed. "Well, I'll go talk to Birkoff, let him know the jig's up."

Michael frowned. "Birkoff?"

Walter chuckled dryly. "He doesn't wanna be called 'Seymour' anymore. Damn near took my head off the last time I tried. See ya." With that, he slouched off down the hall in the direction from which he'd come.

Michael was troubled as he walked back to his quarters, and it wasn't until he'd undressed and slipped into bed that he realized why. For one brief moment, so short-lived that he hadn't even consciously noticed it, he'd felt sympathy for the boy who'd spent his entire life under Section's watchful eye. For one brief moment, he'd considered agreeing to Walter's request.

Sleep didn't come easily that night.

I was a free man in Paris
I felt unfettered and alive
Nobody was calling me up for favors
No one's future to decide
You know I'd go back there tomorrow
But for the work I've taken on
Stoking the star maker machinery
Behind the popular song