Paint It Black

****

"I like the black." I state defiantly. Miss Parker rolls her eyes.

"I like the red. Seems as I'm paying, you don't have much choice in the
matter." She replies, flinging a kni knit sweater, red, over my arm, atop the
growing pile of clothes. I jiggle my hand, causing the chain of the handcuffs
to rattle together. A woman next to us looks up. Parker frowns, but I'm still
feeling the warm effects of the drugs.

To anyone else we look like a normal couple shopping together. In reality we're
handcuffed together, and we've either been holding hands and standing very
close, or I'd tuck both of our joined hands into the wool lined jacket I
borrowed from Michael. Miss Parker brought me to 39th street, a small boutique
called Arkans, to get new clothes.

"It's no Gucci but it'll do." She'd told me. I feel like a Ken doll, the way
she's going to be dressing me up. The handcuffs make trying anything on an
impossibility.

"Won't Dr Morris be upset that we're out during his forty-eight hours? I remind
her bitterly. Miss Parker pauses from a cashmere scarf.
"Last I checked he was happy going over that bloamplample he drew this morning.

He should be fine until tonight." I frown as she adds the scarf to the items
balanced over my arm.

"What's tonight?" I ask. She sighs. That's a signal. It means I-won't-tell-
you-find-out-for-yourself. End of conversation. I squeeze her hand in the
warmth of my jacket. She elbows me in the ribs. I chuckle.

"This will have to do." She announces, leading the way to a service desk. The
girl serving smiles winningly at us, seeing the range of expensive clothing
we're buying. Parker digs in her purse one-handed, her fingers hovering over a
few different credit cards. I read the name on the American Express she gives
the girl. Miss J Lee. Not bloody likely.

Stepping outside into the cool twilight, Miss Parker opens a bag. She twirls
the grey cashmere scarf around my neck.

"When we get back you can put on the hipsters." I stare at her blankly.

"The pants. They should look good on you." I nod dumbly. She thinks about what
would look good on me?

"I think its way past time you got over that black obsession." I tune out here.
Hearing Parker's opinions on fashion has never been a great ambition for me. I
watch the people around us instead, clutching Parker's hand to me. We head for
the subway, a few blocks down.

Snow drifts down in tiny flakes, little powdery specks landing on the people
around me and making them sparkle. I smile to myself. And then I see it. See
him. Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no! I push Parker into a doorway, using my back to shelter
both her and my face.

"What the hell are you doing!" she hisses, yanking her cuffed hand out of my
pocket.

"Standing on the other side of the street, coming over. Joe Jawad, I had him
put away two years ago. He was sending hate mail to the police station I had
been operating out of for six months, looking for me. He's insane, the jury
should have put him in an asylum." I whisper. I lower my head, nuzzling her
neck like a lover so she can see over my shoulder.

"Dark hair, black eyes in the leather jacket?" she asks, letting the bags in her
hand drop to the ground. She puts her hand on my shoulder, moving her mouth
close to my ear.

"He's coming over... he's talking to somebody, not ten feet away." She whispers.
I place the bags I hold onto the ground, using my free hand to draw her closer.
"They seem to be arguing." Miss Parker informs me. I nod, absent-mindedly
drawing circles on her ribs. I keep my face in her neck, using my extra height
and the width of my shoulders to shield us both from view. The doorway is deep,
leaving us mostly in shadow, the people walking by oblivious to our actions.
Two lovers, they should think.

"He looks very angry." Comments Parker. "What did he do, exactly?" she asks.
"Little girls. He ' li' little girls. A lot of evidence was suppressed though,
he only got a short sentence. The DA's fault." I mutter, frowning at the
memory. I slide my hand to her hip, then lower, sneaking it round so my hand
rests on her butt. Parker gasps quietly, her fingers tightening on my shoulder.

"Where was this?" her voice is a little breathy. It seems I have an effect on
her after all. I squeeze.

"Philly. God knows what he is doing in New York." Her breathing is a little
erratic as I fondle her ass, giving me courage. I lick her neck. She grunts in
surprise, curling her fingers into the hair at the base of my neck. I hold my
breath, sliding my hand up her back to the waistline of her skirt. She stiffens
as I grip her gun, slowly withdrawing it from its holster.

"You bastard!" she hisses, dropping her hand from my neck to between us,
attempting to struggle away from me. I bring the gun between our bodies. "You
probably don't even know the man!"

"Don't be a fool!" I growl. I press the gun into her hand and she looks up at
me in surprise. "If I were to attempt to get away now, he'd see me with you. I
wouldn't put you in danger like that..." she stares into my face for a moment or
two, a look of utter shock on her face. She is distracted by something behind
me, ands mes me close suddenly.

"Duck your head! They've moved closer!" she murmurs urly. ly. I press my face
back into her neck, and she buries her face in my shoulder. She slides the hand
with the gun under my jacket, holding it flat against my l bac back. I can
actually hear the muted voices of Joey and his companion behind us. I push us
further into the corner, thrusting my knee between Miss Parker's legs. I put my
hand back on her ribs, tucking her body into the arch of mine. Our bodies are
fused together intimately, and despite the danger of the situat I'm I'm becoming
aroused.

As my erection begins to press against Parker's belly, I hold my breath, waiting
for her reaction. I know she is just as turned on as I am. The voices behind
us grow quieter, signalling Joey and his pal have moved away. I wait, tense.
She surprises me, pulling me closer as she rests against the wall behind her.
Then she grinds herself against my leg. I release my breath in a ragged sigh,
pressing our bodies even closer. Miss Parker is breathing short, shallow
breaths, rocking her hips, thrusting her pelvis against my thigh. Her skirt is
riding high on her legs, creeping up.

I take another step, cupping her breast in my hand. I squeeze, perhaps a little
too hard, but she seems to like it. A little cry escapes her parted lips,
muffled on my shoulder. I tug on her nipple with my thumb and finger, then
soothe it with my palm.

"Jarod..." she whispers, almost inaudibly. I squeeze her breast again and she
whimpers.

"What?" I whisper back. Her skin is hot against my face, and I suck gently at
her pulse.

"Fuck me..." she begins. I gulp, shocked.

"Here?" Parker sighs again.

"...With your fingers." She finishes. I still for a moment, and she rubs
sensuously against my erection. I let my hand skitter across her breastbone,
sliding down her muscled stomach. I pause with my fingers tucked at the
waistline of her skirt.

"The zip, at the side..." Parker hints. I nod, undoing it halfway. Then I take
a deep breath. Now or never.

She's wearing some little scrap of silk for panties, and must be wearing a thigh
high stockings. I slide my hand down further, feeling the wetness there.
Parker hums against my shoulder and shifts against my hand, bringing me into
closer contact with her silky skin. I slide my fingers down, almost quivering
with excitement. I bring my thumb around, finding the hard little nub of her
clitoris and rubbing gently, and Parker mewls against me.

"Don't stop." She whispers, and I nod, biting at the skin on her neck then
soothing it with my tongue. I thrust fin finger inside of her and she sighs,
tilting her hips for better access. She's panting now, her breath hot and
heavy. I continue to stroke with my thumb, adding another finger to the one
that thrusts inside of her.

Parker is close, I know, and I speed up the rhythmic motions of my hand. Her
body rocks in time, helping her to achieve her own pleasure. She's wet and warm
and tight, and I can feel my hard on straining against my jeans. Her cuffed
hand clutches at my chest and she suddenly bites down hard on my shoulder, and I
can feel little spasms ripple through her body. She tenses, her body arching
and shuddering as her orgasm rips through her.

I support Parker as she collapses against me, ignoring the ache in my shoulder
where she bit me as I withdraw my fingers. Fumbling, I do up the zip on her
skirt. She peeks up at me as I carefully lick my fingers clean, savouring the
taste of her body. She chuckles slightly. Flushed, she backs away from me,
tucking her gun back in her holster.

"Joey, is he...?" I begin anxiously. Parker smiles wryly.

"Left five minutes ago." She confesses. I smile a little, and she smiles back.

Just like old times. Except with a bonus.

"We'd better get back." She mutters, and I help her straighten her clothes,
doing up my borrowed jacket to hide the evidence of my still burning arousal.

Together we walk down the street towards the subway. To anyone else I look like
a normal man with his girlfriends hand tucked in his jacket pocket and their
shopping hanging from his hand. A normal man who just got his lover off in a
dark little doorway in the middle of Manhattan. I smile again. Parker catches
my pleased smile.

"Who knows Jarod..." she murmurs, staring off into the distance, "Perhaps,*one*
day, *if* you're lucky, I just *might* return the favour."

****

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" I ask, and I can tell I'm on the money.

"Did what, Mr Wiseman?" the Doc pauses from his task to ask. He's doing
something with a few laptops, and I can see more electrodes ready for use.

"You pushed Jarod that far on purpose. To get to me." I state. I nod, I'm
definitely right.

"Not everything revolves around you Mr Wiseman." He says mildly, and returns to
tapping at his keyboard. I smile wryly. Son of a gun.

"But this did. A little lesson to show me how truly hospitable the great
American government has been. You know, letting me run around like a good
little superhero while he suffers." He's smiling, I think.

"Whatever you wish elieelieve, Mr Wiseman." He murmurs. I turn to head back to
the gym, to finish my workout.

"Hey Doc?" I ask, hearing the door downstairs open. Miss Parker has the code
apparently.

"Yes Mr Wiseman?"

"Thanks." This time I know he's smiling.

I begin lifting weights, grinning as Miss Parker and Jarod enter. Jarod has
this dark little smile on his face, almost smug. Miss Parker is also looking
very satisfied with herself. These two have obviously been having fun. Thebothboth place their bags on the ground and Parker fumbles around until she finds
the key to the handcuffs. Jarod seems reluctant to let her go, but rubs his
wrists nonetheless. Slowly he rests two of his fingers on his lips, thinking
I'm not looking, and licks them. Parker flushes a deep shade of crimson and
turns to bury herself in a few of the shopping bags. Jarod watches her ass with
a sleepy sort of appreciation.

"Here. Go changYou'You're startto sto smell." She growls, thrusting some
clothes at him. He winks at her and bounds up to the bathroom to change. His
limp from the day before is gone.

He's left the bathroom door open, and I can see him dragging the shirt off his
body in the mirror. He drops his pants and I look away. He's probably not even
aware that I can see him. He's very tanned, and muscular too. Broad shoulders.
I look up again and he's pulled on a pair of pants, his chest still bare. He
looks up into the mirror, catches my eye. And winks at me. I almost drop the
weights. I look away, mortified. He knew I was watching him!

"He's a very beautiful specimen, isn't he?" Miss Parker whispers into my ear. I
jump, not realising she had been so close. She's smiles a little predatory
smile at me.

"He is, of course, unbiased by society. He's sees no differenctweetween loving
a woman and loving a man. Sexually ambiguous, you might say." She murmurs. I
shake my head, not quite sure what she is suggesting.

"I'm not... I mean, I have a wife and child..." I begin, and she laughs at this.

"But the body doesn't always believe what the mind says. Tell me, Mr Wiseman,
when you wake up in the morning, do you find yourself confronted with a vision
of beauty you cannot resist? This man, although it seems wrong, spellbinds you,
causes your heart to race, your breath to quicken..." I cast a quick look over
at the Doc, confused. She laughs again.

"And this man... does he not wear the same expression as you? Your reflection,
Mr Wiseman. Any other man and this might seem egotistical, but you are in the
unique position of inhabiting a body that is not your own... you look in the
mirror and you find yourself attracted...to yourself." I place the weights down,
staring at her in surprise. Was I too obvious in the mirror this morning?

"But you and Jarod..." I offer helplessly, I'm not quite sure what she's
suggesting. Her smile turns bitter.

"Jarod and I barely have a past together, let alone a future. We have both
learnt to grab life with two hands, Mr Wiseman. Never let a moment, an
opportunity, slip you by. You just might never see it again." She walks off,
her hips swinging.

I throw another look at the bathroom. Jarod is leaning in to the mirror,
borrowed razor in hand. For a moment my vision is filled with Lisa, and I am
filled with guilt. But all through the years, Lisa never begrudged me the right
to be attracted to other women... she'd roll her eyes and frown and I'd grin
cheekily. I remember once, in the early years of our marriage, being fascinated
by the enticing curve of some young woman's neck. Quite unusual, but I was
fascinated nonetheless. And Lisa had caught me staring, poked me gently in the
ribs and said 'I know you love me'.

But a man? It is hard not to be attracted to my own gender in these modern
times, when fashion makes the men as pretty as the women. Jarod splashes water
on his face, clearing the last of the shaving cream. He picks up a bottle of my
aftershave. A moment, an opportunity, Missker ker had said. Grabbing life with
two hands. I risk a glance at Miss Parker, deep in discussion with the Doc.
I've never kissed a man before. I creep up to my bedroom, hesitating outside
the bathroomr. r. Jarod's enthusiastically slapping aftershave on his face.
His pants are charcoal grey, hanging low on his hips. A deep blue long sleeved
top clings to his muscular arms and chest.

"You're staring." I look up at the sound of his voice. He's watching me in the
mirror.

"So were you." I respond, taking a wild guess. He blushes, proving me right.

"I go soon. Back to Centre. Back to Hell." He adds, almost as an afterthought.
I nod silently, and he turns to face me, advancing slowly. He's both nervous
and full of intent, and snaps off the bathroom light. We stand in darkness, the
only light from the nearby window. Jarod reaches out and puts his hand on my
hip. I breathe deeply. I've got the rush of a forbidden thrill.

And then we kiss. Jarod initiates and I follow, leaning into him and pressing
our lips together. It's like kissing should be, kissing anybody, male or
female, new and surprising and offering thrilling pleasu Lik Like kissing a
woman but harder, firmer, perhaps more passionate than the kisses I learnt over
a lifetime with Lisa. And then our mouths are opening and tongues touching.
Jarod pulls me closer and our chests bump, he puts his hand on my shoulder and I
cling to his waist. He twines his tongue with mine and thrusts it in my mouth,
imitating something far more erotic.

We part, panting for breath, and I realise the faint hum of conversation ie
e
background has stopped. Jarod is staring intensely into my eyes. I am aware,
quite suddenly, that we are no longer alone. I turn my head. There stands Miss
Parker, eyes glittering, quite obviously aroused.

"Nice show. If you two ever decide to make a movie give me a call." She mutters
snidely. She smiles darkly and moves off. Jarod lets his handop fop from my
body. I take a little longer to do the same. The window shutters begin to
slide shut, signalling the lights will be cut in another half an hour. Must be
later than I thought.

"Jarod?" I hear the Doc call. Jarod hesitates, looking down towards the gym
then back at me. He leans forward and presses a quick, hard kiss against my
lips, then smiles.

"Thankyou Michael." He whispers, the dashes off. I watch silently as Miss
Parker, miraculously changed into pyjamas, handcuffs herself to Jarod again. I
hear him ask about getting changed and she rolls her eyes. You just got
changed, she tells him. He shrugs, and strips of his shoes and pants to stand
in boxer shorts and sweater. He grins, then climbs into bed with her, and the
Doc begins placing electrodes across his forehead, to monitor his sleep
patterns.

"Goodnight Mr Wiseman." The Doc calls as he leaves. I change, and the lights
flick out.

When I climb out of bed after spending too many hours pretending to sleep, I see
both Miss Parker and Jarod are out cold. Miss Parker is curled into Jarod's
side, and one of his hands rests comfortably on her stomach. The lights from
the laptop, little flashes of information about Jarod's brain I don't
understand, reflect eerie patterns on their skin. I smile sadly.

Hello darkness, my old friend.

****

Something is going on. Other than the usual. Jarod and Miss Parker have been
sending each other somewhat intense looks all day, and when Jarod thinks nobody
is watching he'll lick or suck on two of his fingers. This I understand, after
what I witnessed in the gym yesterday. Although the finger thing is puzzling,
the imagination doesn't have to stretch very far. I d I don't understand are
the intense, slightly confused looks Jarod and Mr Wiseman are sharing.
Occasional little secret, tender smiles, too.

Right now Jarod watches the passing streets, his ankles shackled on his hands
cuffed. The later afternoon sunshine reflects off passing buildings. My tests
are almost complete. As per our agreement, I am taking Jarod for his implant
before I have done everything I wish to. Security, the Centre had said. A
little tracking device, so Miss Parker will always know where he is. I smile
grimly, thinking of what Miss Parker and I discussed last night. A nice idea,
this little implant theory. If we ever get it into his head in the first place.
Miss Parker meets my eyes. Time to begin.

I lean forward, very carefully placing a small piece of thin metal on Jarod's
leg, close to his hands. A paper clip, twisted out of shape. Mr Wiseman's eyes
widen, and Miss Parker stares straight ahead. Jarod looks extremely confused,
staring back and forth between Miss Parker and myself. Parkerxprexpression
remains calm and serene. Jarod picks up the piece of metal. Miss Parker takes
out her gun, and Jarod freezes.

"Don't try to get out of those shackles Jarod, or I'll have to shoot you." She's
says quietly, then removes the clip. She places it on the seat between her and
Jarod. He stares at it suspiciously.

She lays the gun flat on her leg, fingers lightly resting on the butt. Wiseman
smiles, brilliantly. Jarod twists the metal slowly, angling it into the lock on
his handcuffs. Miss Parker continues to stare straight ahead. The lock gives
with a soft click. He removes the other bracelet with the same efficiency. He
casts another wary glance at Miss Parker, then me. I smile. He smiles back,
and leans forward to undo the ankle shackles. When these are gone I tap on the
dividing window in the limo. Right on cue the driver runs up the end of another
car. A distraction. Mr Wiseman smiles again.

"I'll go see what that was, will I?" he says quietly, and steps out of the car.
He leaves the door open, the one closest to Jarod. I hear the driver also get
out. Jarod looks at the open door, then back at Miss Parker and myself.

"Why?" he whispers urgently. Miss Parker smiles gently.

"Everybody deserves their freedom Jarod, even you." She says quietly. She
thinks for a moment. "And how will I ever return the favour on the inside, with
all those damn cameras?" she adds. Jarod chuckles a little. I don't want to
think on that one too long. He leans over and kisses her on the cheek, and
whispers in her ear. She grins, and passes him a duffel bag full of the clothes
she bought for him. He sits back, then shrugs a bit and leans over to kiss me
on the cheek as well. Then he gets out of the car.

Miss Parker follows him, sliding the clip back into her gun. I step out of the
car as Mr Wiseman and Jarod gaze at each other for a moment. There is
definitely something going on here. The driver is exchanging details with a
cabbie. Jarod looks at me.

"What about your tests?" he asks.

"I have enough information to last months. Good luck Jarod." I say. Miss
Parker clicks the safety off on her gun. Jarod nods, and turns around, facing
an alleyway.

"Goodbye." She whispers, and raises her gun. Jarod begins to run.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" Miss Parker calls. Sountounts to three under her breath,
then shoots a dumpster a few times. She turns to Mr Wiseman.
"You shouldn't have knocked me. I might have got him." She says calmly. Jarod
disappears from sight around the corner. Mr Wiseman looks confused.

"What was that little display about?" he asks. Miss Parker puts away her gun.

"Sweeper's. They'll be here later to check out my story. I need for them to
find bullets somewhere." She explains carelessly. She climbs back in the car
and we all follow.

"You can drop me off at the Hilton." She murmurs, gathering her bags and Jarod's
restraints. I nod slowly.

"Miss Parker?" Mr Wiseman says suddenly. She looks up.

"Yes?" he smiles.

"It was a pleasure to meet you."

When she is gone, I smile with satisfaction. Mr Wiseman looks at me
questioningly. I sigh deeply.

"You know that balance of power I was talking about yesterday?" I ask. He nods.

"The scales just tipped a little more in our direction. I have a feeling we
haven't seen the last of those two." I say. Mr Wiseman grins, and opens his
mouth. I wait for something witty and intelligent that will sum up the whole
situation.

"Can we stop for hotdogs?"

I should have known better.



I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colours any more I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until the darkness goes...


Fini.