Arena Ch. 02

"I think so. We had a choice of three different tunics, expensive, really expensive, and outrageous. The difference is the quality of the material and construction. The expensive option is little more than a Halloween costume. It was awful. It might work for crowd shots on a vid, but not much else. The other two were more interesting. They were both real Roman tunics, the difference being the material. The more expensive was made from wool just like they would have been back then. I went with the cotton-blend material because you back off five feet and you can't tell the difference anyway, and it's about two-thirds the price of the wool."

"So what are we in for?" Rick asks.

"About twenty-seven five for five hundred tunics. That works out to about fifty-five apiece."

Rick is actually relieved. The way Todd was talking, he thought they were going to be hundreds of dollars apiece. "And you think this is better than dressing the crowds as they would have been?"

"I do. On a lark I looked at some of the costumes that would befit the people of... lower status," Todd explains. "They look worse, little more than rags, but they are actually more expensive that the tunics I chose, plus there's the makeup to make all the extra look dirty to match their status, and with the tunics, it's obvious how they go on and they're quick to get into. Don't forget, this isn't a historical recreation. Look at it this way," Todd says, pointing to Rick. "Maybe the Dominius only invited the upper-crust Roman citizens to his games. That would explain all the clean people and tunics."

"I see your points, but this is the only shortcut we're taking, and I guess it bothers me."

"Rick, when people think of Romans, they think of togas and tunics. Nobody is going to think anything about it. Quit worrying."

"Yeah, I know. Have you put out the call for extras yet?"

"Not yet. I'm waiting until we have our people. No point signing people up if we don't know when we're going to capture."

"I understand, but I'm worried that when we get our stars, we're going to be ready to capture before we can fill the stands."

Todd makes a dismissive noise. "Trust me, that won't be a problem. The problem we'll have is trying to pick out the five hundred we want."

"You really think so?" Rick asks, unsure that it will be as easy as his operations manager thinks.

"Rick," Todd says with some exasperation, "there are more than ten million people in Los Angeles county alone, and another, what, 8 million or so in the San Francisco area. That's not even counting all the towns and cities between here and San Francisco. You really think that out of all those people, we aren't going to be able to find five hundred people who'll want to drive to Bakersfield to witness something like this?"

Rick hadn't thought about it in terms like that. Out of twenty-odd million people, you should be able to find five hundred people to do anything. "Well, when you put it like that," he says with a chuckle.

"Not only do I think I can find the five hundred we need, but I also think we should charge them for the privilege. We may not make any money off of them by the time we pay for clothing, meals and transportation, but we might at least break even on the deal."

"Maybe," Rick allows, scratching his cheek. "Seems kind of strange to put out a call to people saying, 'Hey! Come help us out!' then charge them for doing so." He thinks a moment. "I don't know. We'll talk about it more when the time is a little closer." He stands up. "I have some things I need to do, but go with what you think is best on the tunics." He steps out of Todd's office but turns back. "And thanks for handling this," he says before walking to his own office.

Rick spends the rest of the afternoon doing some of the hundreds of tasks required when running a business before heading home. The nice thing about Immersion Playground is that, other than handling the money and legal issues, Charlie and Todd run the business. Once again he thinks of Giselle and all the unpaid legal work she's done for Immersion Playground over the past nine months. He's definitely going to have to do something to make it up to her, and soon.

Arriving home he sees that Giselle's Audi isn't in the garage, which isn't a good sign. While he will sometimes beat her home, it's exceptionally rare for him to do so on Friday, and when he did, it usually means problems. He sends her a ping but there's no answer, not even an auto-answer, and that concerns him even more.

Rick starts the garage door rumbling down. It hasn't fully closed before it starts up again, and when he looks back, he sees Giselle's Audi pulling into the drive. As the car rolls to a stop in the bay, he can see through the car's windshield she isn't happy.

"Tell me what happened," he says, opening her door.

"I'll tell you later," she says brushing by him and walking into the house.

Sighing, he closes the car door and follows her, stopping in the kitchen and pulling a full zapper meal, beef with broccoli stir fry, out of the freezer, . He tosses it in the machine and presses start before following her to the bedroom.

He enters the room just in time to see Giselle step into their closet in her underwear, her suit piled carelessly in the floor. He picks up her clothes and shoes, putting the suit in the hamper and carrying her shoes to the closet where he finds her putting on one of her tennis shirts. When she turns to face him, he hands her the shoes without comment.

"Thanks," she grunts, taking the shoes and tossing them in the floor rather than sitting them neatly in place as she normally does. She makes a move to pass him so he steps out of her way. She returns to their bedroom and puts on a pair of her tennis shorts.

"Dinner will be ready in about five minutes."

All he receives is another grunt in acknowledgement.

Dinner is tense, with Giselle not saying or eating much, and Rick remaining quiet as well. When the meal is over, he stands with her and pulls her to him, holding her in a tight embrace. She tries to push him away at first but after a moment she ceases her struggle and relaxes, wrapping her arms around him.

"Tell me what happened," he murmurs, still holding her tight.

"Men can be such dickheads," she replies into his chest.

"I know."

She is quite for a long time. He waits, prepared to stand there as long as it takes for her to start talking.

"It's Hittle. He asked me to stay and we had a nice chat today after everybody left." There's another long pause. "He didn't say anything direct because he's too smart for that, but let's just say he implied that if I'm willing to release my immersion to the public, I should be willing to do what it takes to make partner."

"I see," Rick says quietly. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him to, and I quote, 'Go fuck yourself.' That didn't go over well. I'll quit before I demean myself like that."

"So, are you going to quit?"

"Yes, but not today. I told you, I will not be bullied into acting like I did something wrong."

He stands her up so he can look her in the eyes. "Words are one thing, but if he, or anyone else, so much as touches you, I expect you to tell me." His voice becomes low and dangerous. "I will personally see to it they don't do it again."

She looks at him with wide eyes. She's never heard that tone from him before. "It won't come to that, Rick."

"Promise me, Giselle. I'm not kidding here," he insists. "Promise me that if anyone touches you, or if you even suspect someone might hurt you, you'll tell me."

"What will you do?"

"The first time? We will have a friendly discussion about what will happen if I have to pay them another visit. I'm willing to go to jail to protect you, to die if necessary. I'll find out if they're willing to go to the hospital or the morgue. No one is going to hurt you, Giselle, not while I have a breath left in my body."

"You're scaring me," she says quietly, her eyes still wide.

"Nothing to be afraid of," he says, his tone moderating. "They can be assholes, but there's a line they can't cross, not without repercussions. Promise me, Giselle."

"I don't know. I—"

He cuts her off, taking her by the shoulders. "Listen to me. If someone were to hurt you, rough you up, or God forbid, rape you, I... will... kill... the bastard. Do you understand? Better to stop it before it gets to that point."

She looks at him and realizes he's serious. "I understand. I promise, but you have to promise not to do something stupid."

"I promise," he says, pulling her in close again.

He's seething inside. They knew when they decided to release the immersion they might have to go through something like this, but that doesn't make it any easier for him to tolerate some limp-dicked, fat, old fucker making lewd innuendos about Giselle.

"You okay?" he asks her.

"Yeah, I think so. Let's forget the dishes tonight," she says pulling out of his arms. "Just come sit with me."

They've been sitting on the couch for an hour, Giselle curled up and tucked in close to him, speaking little. He wants to take her to bed, to hold her, make love to her, to kiss away all her hurts and fears, but it will be up to her to make the first move tonight.

"Hello Charlie," Giselle says, breaking the silence as she answers a ping. "Uh-huh... Yeah, I know. Thank you." She giggles. "I thought about it, but I didn't."

He can only hear Giselle's side of the conversation, but he can tell from context she's probably talking about her meeting with the partners yesterday.

"It started out okay, but the end of the day kind of sucked." She paused as Charlie spoke. "Well, let's just say it was suggested that my performance in the bedroom could have more bearing on my position at the firm than my performance in the courtroom." Pause. "No, but Rick's threatened to kill one of the partners if necessary." Pause. "No, just me." Pause. "Yes, I know, but I think it'll be fine." Another pause, longer this time. "I'll tell him." Pause. "Okay, thanks for the ping, Charlie." She pauses one last time. "Okay, I will. Goodnight."

"What are you going to tell me?" he asks when it's obvious she's ended the ping.

"I'm supposed to tell you that if you have to go pay a visit to Hittle, you're to call Todd before you go. He'll come along to help 'bury the body.'"

He smiles. "A friend will help you move. A good friend will help you move a body."

Giselle snickers. Once again, just being with Rick has improved her mood immensely. She sits up, disentangling herself from his arms. "Come on, let's get the kitchen cleaned up and then we can go to bed. It's been a long couple of days."

"I'll clean the kitchen. Why don't you go get ready and I'll be there in a few minutes?"

"I'll help. That way we'll be done twice as fast, and then you can take me to bed and make love to me until I forget all about Richards, Beckel & Lively. And that asshole Hittle," she adds as if an afterthought.

"I don't think I have ever heard you call Hittle by his first name. What is it, do you know?"

"Richard."

"So, he really is a big Dick," he deadpans. "Why isn't his name on the sign if he's a partner?" he asks as they begin to police the kitchen.

She barks out a short laugh at his comment. "There are five partners, but only the founding three have their name on the letterhead," she explains. "Donald Greene is the fourth, Hittle is the newest. He's been a partner about five years, I guess."

They spend a few minutes cleaning up from their dinner. Rick looks at the dishwasher after it's been loaded but closes it without starting it. He'll run the machine after they put in their breakfast dishes the next morning.

He quickly surveys the kitchen. "Done," he announces to the empty room before following her to their bedroom.

Rick uses the depilatory cream on his face and swishes his mouth clean while Giselle washes her face and then cleans her mouth. Despite her words, he pulls on his pajamas and is waiting in bed when she arrives wearing an almost nonexistent negligee. He can feel himself begin to harden, both from how she looks and from the memory of last night.

"I thought you might like to see it on, since you didn't have a chance to do that last night," she purrs, slowly turning so he can have a good look. "Well, not for long anyway," she amends as she slides between the linens with him.

He pulls her in close, kissing her gently on the lips, neck, and shoulders, each touch light and fleeting before he gently pushes her over onto her back. He covers her body with his own as they continue to lightly kiss, her arms encircling and embracing him.

She doesn't resist when he pushes her onto her back, pulling him with her. As she settles he continues to kiss her so sweetly and tenderly, she can sense her color rising. Stroking him on his sides to disguise her actions, she furtively pulls the side knots on her nightie, untying the bindings, so when he's ready the negligee can be easily removed.

Her hands are on his sides as she moves under him, and after a moment, the hands return to his head, back, and neck. "I love you" he whispers as he kisses her under her ear, his voice so soft he isn't sure she heard until she pulls him just a bit more firmly into her.

Her hands tug on his pajamas, pushing down on the waist band as she tries to take his penis into her hand. He raises his hips slightly, allowing her to touch him, to feel his hardness, before pulling himself away, rolling to his back, and removing his pajamas.

When he raises his hips, she slips her hand into his pajamas to lightly stroke his manhood. Normally he's more aggressive, using his mouth, tongue, and fingers to drive her into a frenzy of desire, but tonight he's much more loving. His light, tender kissing of her lips, face, and neck suffuse her with the warm glow of love rather than the heat of passion, even as his hardness speaks of his desire, desire kept carefully in check. When he pulls away, she opens her eyes to watch him remove his pajama bottoms before he slowly, gently, removes her negligee. She expects him to begin his exploration of her body, but he doesn't, returning instead to his tender kissing of her lips. As he moves to cover her with his body, he places a knee to either side of her legs, and slowly, gently, he enters her.

He notices that she, at some point, pulled the bows knots on the side of her negligee, as she had last night, the loosened knots allowing the garment to fall away. He carefully removes her nightie, Giselle helping by shifting her weight to release any trapped fabric. Before leaning in to kiss her again, he drinks in her beauty, once again thanking whatever gods there may be that he found her, and that she will have him. As he lowers himself once onto her, he gently kisses her as he seeks, then finds, entrance into her. As his penis slides within her, she takes a deep breath as he moves deeper into her pleasures. He pulls back, looking to her face, seeing her eyes close, head tipping back slightly, her fingers digging into his back as she holds him. He pauses, enjoying her warmth around him, before he slowly begins to thrust into her.

She's effectively trapped by his weight and their position, so she turns the responsibility for her pleasure over to him, a responsibility she knows he'll shoulder well. Because he hasn't whipped her into a raging lust, she can enjoy their tender lovemaking and the feeling of closeness and togetherness that comes with it. As much as she likes the world-rending orgasms he can give her, she loves him for his tender, thoughtful side just as much, or maybe more. While he gently rocks his hips into her, she reflects how much this is like the first time they made love, each unsure of the other's wants and needs, before he'd learned exactly what pleases her.

He watches her face as he makes love to her. Sometimes he approaches their lovemaking as a game, a contest to see how much pleasure he can give her, but not tonight. With the distress he feels for what she's going through at work, and his desire to protect her from harm and injustice, his love for her threatens to overwhelm him. She opens her eyes, watching him as he watches her.

"I love you, Giselle," he mouths silently, knowing she has seen him say this exact phrase so many times she'll have no trouble reading his lips.

He's rewarded with a warm, loving smile before she silently repeats the words back. He can feel the tears begin to well in his eyes, so great his love, and he buries his face in her neck so she won't see, stilling his hips while he wrestles for control of his emotions.

She almost misses the wetness in his eyes before he begins kissing her neck, pushing himself deep into her, holding himself there to generate a thrill of pleasure. She can only assume her words are what caused his reaction, making her heart soar that he could love her so much. He begins to thrust into her once again, a little more forceful this time, and she takes a deep breath and sighs in pleasure, hoping he doesn't come too soon. She wants to enjoy this slow, gentle, lovemaking for a long time yet.

It only takes moments for him to get his emotions under control so he can move with her once more. The pleasure from him sliding within her wetness is so great that he can't help but drive into her a little harder, with a more urgency. Their bodies make soft slapping noises and he can feel the first tingles of an orgasm beginning to form. He clamps down on it, pushing it away, not wanting to come too soon, so he can enjoy her as long as possible tonight.

Her orgasm slowly builds as they make love, neither reaching for it nor pushing it away. Though their lovemaking has been slow and easy, a fine film of sweat begins to form between their bodies, making their skin slick. She pulls him to her, kissing him more forcibly and offering him her tongue. He senses her building orgasm and thrusts into her harder, faster, causing the orgasm to swell as she kisses him with ever more urgency, until her orgasm begins to overtake her.

He might be pushing her toward her orgasm, but at the same time, he's increasing the need for his own release. He battles the overwhelming pleasure, trying to hold on, trying to delay his climax a moment longer. Just as he thinks he'll have to stop or allow his own rapture to overtake him, she falls into her orgasm with a quiet whimper of pleasure while kissing him passionately. He stops his thrusts, holding himself as deep as possible, allowing her to take her release while simultaneously letting his own orgasm recede. As she comes out of her rapture, he pulls himself out, spreads her legs before positioning himself between them, and entering her again.

He's pulling out of her as she comes out of her orgasm. She didn't think he'd come, but as he moves, changing their position before plunging into her again, she smiles knowingly. This orgasm was nowhere near as hard as some, or even most, but it was so deeply satisfying, she's pleased she may have an opportunity to experience another one tonight. He's propped on his hands, looking into her face, smiling as she smiles. She encircles his neck with her arms and pulls him down to her, wanting to feel the heat and slickness of his flesh as they move together as one.

He settles onto her and begins to kiss her lips. He knows her orgasm wasn't a strong one, but it must have been good if her satisfied smile is any indication. He smiles in return, drawing pleasure, not only from her body, but from giving her pleasure as well. When her heels on his ass spur him on, he picks up the tempo from the leisurely pace he's been maintaining to a more driving rhythm, thrusting harder and faster, trying to push her into another orgasm before his own climax, building deep within him again, crashes over him.