Gabriel

From the moment she woke this morning, everything had gone wrong. She was beginning to feel as if she'd been cursed for some strange reason. There was a bruise blossoming on her forehead where she'd connected with the edge of the door when she'd gone to brush her teeth earlier this morning. She found it difficult to remember the last time that she'd felt this clumsy and inept. At least this was one of her days off. 'Perhaps', she thought to herself, 'It's for the best that I didn't end up driving anywhere today.' A Futurama theme song ringtone blared out of her phone, startling her. It displayed an unidentified number and she gave it an accusing glare as she grumbled, "If only there were a device that would shock the hell out of the person on the other side of the line..."

Nobody but marketing and sales representatives seemed to call, anyway. She found herself frequently wanted to pitch the infernal device out the damned window, but it was too damned useful. With a heavy sigh she leaned back into the couch, eyes narrowing as she sipped at a can of soda. Some jagoff on television was talking about a revolutionary new product that could strip floors and clean clothes, as well as being utilized as a dessert topping, prompting her to make another strafing run through the woeful selection of channels at her command.

In mid-surf the television gave out, releasing a small puff of magical blue smoke into the ether with a soft popping sound. An angry tic began jerking at the corner of her right eye as she white-knuckled the controller with a ferocity that almost had her shaking. The plastic groaned in protest under the pressure. Yep. Definitely one of those days. With a guttural growl she threw it across the room, watching it bounce off the now deceased appliance with a loud clinking sound.

"OK! I GET IT! Something MUST be pissed off at me for this much to be going wrong at the same time." Working herself into a fine incoherent rage, she quickly stood and glared up at the ceiling, yelling, "What? Just WHAT THE HELL did I do, huh? I mean, for CHRISSAKE!"

She jumped up and down several times, slamming her feet down hard on the floor in a flailing dance of frustration. Throwing a tantrum actually seemed to be making her feel better at this point and since nobody was around to witness it, she didn't have to feel utterly foolish. At the height of her frenzy, she heard a knock at the door that stopped her dead in her tracks. She crouched and peered around the corner towards the source of the noise. 'Who the hell could that be at this time of night?' she thought to herself as she wrapped the leopard print fleece robe she was wearing tighter around herself and moved through the kitchen to the front door.

She padded up to it, leaning over and squinting as she looked through the peephole to see who dared to intrude on her moment of insane catharsis. The tall, broad shouldered individual standing on the front step of her apartment seemed to fill the entire hallway. Although his head was distorted in the curve of the glass, he looked fairly attractive. She frowned and took a step away from the door, her eyes narrowing as she asked, "Yes?"

The voice on the other side of the door was a pleasant, rolling rumble. "You sounded like you might appreciate a little help." There was a brief pause, then he added, "Everything ok in there?"

She leaned forward to peer through the hole in the door again. He'd stepped back from the door a little, his lips curling into an amused grin. Cute, yes. Serial Killer? Maybe. Her thoughts chased themselves as she replied, "Yep. Everything's just fine," her tone a little hard as she grumbled under her breath, "Git along, little doggie. Go bother somebody else in the building." She continued watching him, interested to see how he'd react. Hopefully he'd just end up leaving quietly. She'd be damned if she'd open her door for a stranger, no matter how gorgeous he happened to be.

"You sure now? It sounded awful frenzied in there..."

Her frown deepened as she noticed that his grin was broader now. Oh, so that's how he's gonna play it. She squared her shoulders, grating, "I'm so very thrilled that you're this concerned for the welfare of a person that you've never even met. Really." Her voice dropped into a low growl as she spat, "Now piss off."

She watched as the man shook his head slowly, apparently in an attempt to keep from laughing. His voice echoed in the hallway as he asked, "Now, is that any way to treat a stranger with noble intentions?"

If he didn't get off her goddamned steps, she'd take out his kneecaps with the baseball bat she kept by the door. "Fuck off, monkey boy. Run along and play with whatever it is you play with - just as long as you do it away from my door."

The man crossed his arms now, the same look of amusement on his face. He showed no signs of moving.

"I'll call the cops, jerkwad. They can always throw your tight white ass into a holding pen downtown, if you like. They're very accommodating that way."

"Such vitriol for such a little girl...," She could hear him chuckling, and his expression actually softened as he added, "Does it make you feel better to keep people at a distance like this? Does it..." He paused and slowly slid his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, "satisfy you?"

Why wasn't he leaving? More to the point, why wasn't she walking away from the damned door and calling the cops already? She brushed a lock of wavy blue hair back behind her ear and stepped away from the door. "Excuse me?" Her sea green eyes flashed with annoyance under a sharp fringe of Betty Page bangs as she let out a harsh laugh and sneered, "Aren't you the little Psychoanalyst? How entertaining. Kindly get the fuck off my steps."

He was actually laughing now. It annoyed her to notice that he actually had a nice laugh. "Do you usually put up this much of a fight?" He asked.

The phone was in the next room. All she had to do was walk down the hallway and collect it. Three little numbers and she could be free of this annoying person. And yet, it was the most intriguing thing that had happened all day. Well, for a long while, actually. His voice grew quiet as he said, "Are you so certain that you want me to leave?"

It had been a damned long time since she'd been physically interested in anybody and she was startled to find that her body was definitely responding to his voice, no matter what arguments her mind happened to be making. He was obviously aware of how appealing he was and was enjoying taunting her. Both of these things should've made her want to clock him, but for some reason, she found herself curiously interested in the stranger on the other side of the door. She sighed and rolled her eyes, disgusted with her lack of willpower and common sense. "What is it, exactly, that you think you're going to get out of all this? A candy bar? A blow job? For chrissake, you could be a homicidal axe wielding maniac." She stepped towards the door, again peering out the peephole.

His expression brightened and his lips curled into a wicked grin as he answered, "But isn't that part of the fun? Not knowing?"

Good god, he was infuriating. She snapped, "I'm sure that it's more than a little thrilling when you easily outweigh your prey. I can't say that I share your sentiment at the moment."

"Aren't you in the least bit interested? No sense of adventure?" His voice was still relaxed, casual, as he rocked back on a heel and grinned.

She let out a sharp bark of laughter and said, "Perhaps you should try a less obvious tactic."

He sighed and leaned forward, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his voice dropped an octave, "Perhaps you should have a little talk with your body. It seems to want the opposite of what you profess to."

Her pulse jumped at his words, a light flush just beginning to color the surface of her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed as she growled, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

His eyes seemed a little...different now as he looked back at her. In a voice full of promise and hunger he quietly said, "Open the door and I'll show you."

A little zing of anticipation raced up her spine, bringing a hitching breath from her throat. Suddenly, she became aware of how very hot the hallway was becoming. As if a spectator in her own body, she now watched her hand slowly move towards the upper lock, her fingers wrapping around it. She shook her head to clear it, and pulled her hand away from the lock as if burned. What the hell was going on with her? She couldn't be THAT desperate, could she?

Her voice quavered as she muttered, "Yeah, right."

The man's voice was a maddening purr that set her body trembling slightly as he purred, "Little pigs, little pigs, let me in..."

Ok, now this was getting downright creepy. Clearly, he was insane. "Please...," her voice cracked as she leaned against the door, shaking; her hair falling in a wavy blue curtain as she held a hand to the side of her head. "Please just...go away." What time was it now? It had to be at least eleven o clock at night. Her neighbors had to be wondering about this odd exchange at the top of the stairs. That is unless they were in the throes of deep sleep.

His voice sounded a little huskier, more urgent as he answered, "You have my word that no harm that you do not desire will come to you. I only wish to...visit with you for a time." What a weird thing to say. She could feel her resolve flagging. She'd always had a weakness for certain voices and this man was firmly jamming his thumb on all of her buttons effortlessly with his. Something low in her gut clenched, tightening and shuddering as he added, "You can even have a weapon if it makes you feel any better."

She remembered the military issue KaBar that her stepfather had given her that was silently resting under her pillow, and hurried to collect it. The feel of the heavy weapon in her hand grounded her, giving her something stable to hold onto as she padded back over to the door. What the hell am I doing? she asked herself as she held her arms stiff at her sides. Her breath was coming quickly now, her hands shaking she reached a hand up to the lock. It turned slowly – seeming almost to take forever. Finally, it clicked open.

Now the lock on the door handle. She took a deep breath, steadying herself with the knife at her side. She turned the lock on the handle, then backed quickly into the bedroom where she'd have a good sight on him, her fingers curled around the handle of the knife in a deathgrip.

Her heart hammered in her chest as the door began to open. The man with a secretive smile, his tone heated as he raised an eyebrow said, "Nice bathrobe." Without the distortion of the spyglass on the front door, he was actually more attractive, if that were even possible.

Her hair spilled down the right side of her face, revealing a shorn scalp on the other side. He found himself wondering if she ever actually put the mohawk up. As he stepped inside, her heart leapt in her chest. He was so damned tall. And big. His black engineer boots made a distinctive sound on the hardwood floors as he took a step back and slowly closed the door, locking it behind him. His raven black hair was pulled back into a thick, wavy ponytail that hit him just below the shoulders. His eyes, a stunning hazel, glittered as he cocked his head to the side and sized her up with the bare vestiges of a smile. He wore a fairly weather-beaten black leather jacket and a white tank top that showed the swell of muscles under it to best advantage.

He then looked around the room, taking everything in before his gaze flickered back over to her. He presented her with a sharptoothed grin and leaned back against the doorway, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. "At least you didn't have a shotgun." He chuckled softly. "Now...where were we?"

The hungry look was back in his eyes again and he began shrugging out of his jacket as he took a step towards her. It slid down his arms, falling to the floor in a heap. Her eyes widened as she watched his muscles sliding beneath his skin. He had the tight build of a pretty large gymnast, and she found herself wondering exactly how limber he was. He looked to be in his mid thirties, but she'd been only marginally correct in being able to judge the ages of people around her in the past. Her mind was reeling, busily trying to process what was happening. For some reason, she was now having difficulty remembering exactly how he'd gotten inside.

As he took a step towards her she took a step back, bringing the knife up, holding it out. "Not so fast, romeo..." She desperately wanted to remain in control of the situation, but it was obvious that she was losing it fast. Confusion addled her thoughts and she struggled to maintain slow, regular breathing.

She drew a sharp intake of air as he darted towards her with an agility and speed that made her head spin. Within moments, he'd casually disarmed her, wrapping a strong arm around her as he nuzzled the nap of stubble behind her ear and purred, "You were saying?"

She stood very still, eyes wide as he pressed up against her back. She could feel the hard length of him through the fabric of his jeans and she shuddered, whimpering softly. Without the damper of the door, the affect of his voice on her body easily tripled. Finally terrified now, she closed her eyes, resigning herself to whatever fate happened to bring to her in the next few moments. The dampness between her legs felt like a strange betrayal of sorts, and she found herself wondering if it would actually be rape if her body was willing. She didn't think that she'd ever been this sexually excited in her life. At once, she felt elated, and so very stupid. Tears began brimming at the edges of her eyes, spilling over her lashes and running down her cheeks in slick trails.

Gentle hands slowly spun her around to face him. His presence was overwhelming. It threatened to consume her. He reached down, gingerly placing a finger under her chin and bringing her head up to look at him. "I told you that I meant you no harm and I meant it. Okay?"

Her eyes shining with tears, she frowned at his words. She was now unsure of what to think. He smiled as he gazed down at her, his voice soft as he gently rubbed a thumb softly along the stubble on the side of her head. "It must be difficult to be so strong all the time. To never truly let go of anything for fear of falling and not being capable of getting back up."

His words struck her soundly, ringing true in her soul. She'd never been able to just let go, to truly set any of her burdens down. Instead of making her bitter, the lack of emotional respite had made her distant over the years and incapable of letting anybody inside. Single most of her adult life, she supposed that she'd chosen to remain alone rather than face the prospect of putting her heart into the hands of somebody that could destroy her emotionally when they finally decided that they were tired of her and left. And they always left. Now that he'd pointed it out, she could feel her choice like suit of armor that had been grafted onto her spirit, weighing it down; however, she'd always seen it as necessary in order to keep on going.

Her expression hardened, and she pulled away from him, her voice harsh as she growled, "It's too much to place on another person. I should be able to carry my own burdens without help. Everybody else seems more than capable of doing it on their own."

His fingers curled under the collar of her robe and he slowly began sliding it over her shoulders as he quietly responded, "If that's what they're actually saying, then they're bullshitting you." He traced a finger tenderly along her forehead, brushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes as he continued, "Let me help you. Trust me." The fleece robe slid a little further down her arms, revealing intricate black inkwork on her shoulders and back.

She frowned as she looked up at him, asking, "Who are you? Why are you doing this? Why the fuck should you care?"

"Do you remember several years ago, when you called for me?" His eyes seemed to change color for a moment, becoming a little sharper before going back to normal.

She blinked at the display and stammered, "Excuse me?"

"Well...it took me a while to find you." A strange sadness filled his eyes as he quietly added, "I'm so very sorry that I wasn't able to be here sooner for you."

Her expression became critical as she took a good, long look at him. She had to admit that there was something very familiar about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. He paused, as if trying to recall something before saying, "You named me back then. You called me Gabriel."

Her eyes widened with disbelief and she took a step away from him as her jaw dropped. It had been a little under seven years, if she remembered correctly. That's when the visions had begun. It all flooded back into memory, the vividness of the entire experience. It had all felt so real; at least until she'd woken up. Then he'd started visiting her when she was still awake. She'd always found it odd that she'd never been able to clearly make out the face of the man that her mind had constructed for such intricate fantasies. Could this really be him? She'd been waiting for somebody that matched the man in her thoughts for so long that she found herself wanting badly to believe him.

As if reading her mind, he nodded, his grin returning as he quietly answered, "I've wanted to be with you as much as you've wanted me to." His voice dropped an octave as he tenderly traced the lines of her collarbones under her skin. "I still do."

Her eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his hands on her and she let out a shaking sigh. When she opened them again, his grin was gone, replaced by a look of such intensity that she swooned. His voice sounded different now, husky and commanding as he looked down at her. "Take the robe off."

She was beyond rational thought at this point. The robe fell open, sliding down her arms to land in a soft pile at her feet. Her hair contrasted beautifully against her skin, spilling over her shoulders and down her back. She'd always been self conscious about her body, positive that it was hideous in its imperfection, and so she'd spent hours at the gym trying to shape it and mold it into something that she wasn't repulsed by. Contrary to her own opinion of herself, her curves were soft and round in all the right places, her pale skin seeming to glow in the low light of the room. Her body was decorated with intricate tribal patterns of black ink, and he gave a soft sigh as he drank her appearance in.

His voice came out in a low rumble that sent a delicious ripple of sensation through her. "Stand up straight."

She immediately responded, rolling her shoulders back.

He smiled, nodding as he purred, "Much better. Your tits stand up so much nicer that way."

She felt herself flushing at the compliment. He took a step towards her, placing firm hands on her hips and turning her to face the four post bed behind her. It was constructed out of black wrought iron with a canopy of black fabric draped over the sides in a thick curtain that blocked out most of the light so that she was able to sleep during the day if she needed to, due to her night job. She felt him lean into her, his cock thick and warm beneath the swell of his jeans as he pressed her ass back into him and nipped gently at the back of her neck. Her knees buckled and he held her steady, his voice sending her flying as he brushed his lips against her ear and breathed, "Put your hands over your head. Grab the post."

She quickly complied, her breath coming in hitches and little moans as she wrapped her fingers around the metal of the black frame, her knuckles brushing against the fabric of the inner curtain. His hands burned where they touched her as they slowly slid up her torso to cup the round globes of her breasts. She cried out as he squeezed, roughly pinching her nipples and biting down on the sensitive tissue of the nape of her neck. A low growl echoed out of his throat, matched with a loud moan of her own as he began sliding a hand down her stomach to gently tug at the soft nap of fur at her groin. She rocked her head back, her mouth a perfect O as he let his fingers wander lower. Suddenly, he gripped the slick, curly hair, pulling sharply on it as a guttural moan fell from her lips. She was startled at how wet she'd become in such a short time, completely lost in the sensations he was forcing on her.