Chronicle - Mel and Chris Ch. 01

"You know your stuff. Now about those aliens," Bart asked, "what do you know about them?"

"Obviously they're watching us," said Chris, "but losing one of their satellites I'm guessing we'll find out sooner rather than later."

"And they kidnapped a student from here," Mel added quickly, "back in 1981. Well, that's what I think they did! Maybe they'll find his body in the crashed satellite, or he's still up there. The alien posed as a beautiful woman and took him away."

She looked at Chris as he gaped and then whispered in his ear in the second silence they'd driven Bart to, 'later...'

"You have pictures of that too, Mel?"

"Not yet, but I'm going to prove it. Somehow. It was the girl, she did it. She was a succubus, everyone said so. She was really beautiful, blonde, big chest. They said she disappeared with him."

Now Chris clamped his mouth shut to avoid laughing, although Bart didn't bother to stifle his laughter.

"A demon who steals men's souls," Bart said as he reclaimed his sense, "but not a demon, an alien?"

"One, or working for them," Mel said, obviously she'd been thinking about this, "but as soon as I have it we'll call you back. Unless they come down and take away all our men first!"

"I'll be here," Bart said, "good night, Chris and Mel. Be good!"

"We will," they both said into the phone, "love the show, Bart. Night night!"

Chris clicked the line off, and by the time he turned the radio up Bart had a new caller going. The man was good. Chris turned it down then pushed Mel over and rolled on top of her.

"I don't know if that was stupid or genius," he said to her as he rubbed his cock along her labia, "the thing about kidnapping. How the hell?"

"When we were on the old porch," she said as she slid to get his cock rubbing against her clit, "something Teresa said. Just popped into my head."

She sidled her feet to spread her legs as she rubbed against him.

"Carole had no family, nothing, no one... Like, she, fell out of the sky. And you and your CS guys would know strange because you all are... oof!"

He shifted and pushed into her quickly at that, she smiled up at him.

"Yup, we're strange, one and all."

"Ah, strange, but you feel good," she pulled his face down to hers, "you feel so, so, good."

The Caldicott-Bajevic Anomalies

Chris sat on a second floor ledge of concrete with his back to a second wall of the same material on the Unis's new Student Services building and looked across campus at what he expected would be Mel's approach. The sun was on him and this first Sunday of August was likely to be very hot but for now it was comfortable and the concrete sill held some of the night's coolness. He saw her, the black ponytail waved as she ran up the slope of the Library fountain's south side wall, across the flat top just above and behind the wall of water and down the other. She leaped a couple of benches and on a clear stretch of walkway looked up to spot him.

He liked this building because the architect had put the supporting struts, beams and columns external to the walls, a not unusual recent style. It made the building a common target of the 'obstacle running' hobby he'd picked up from some friends and had passed on to Mel. Her first few foot and hand holds were textbook but then she wavered, he braced himself with his right hand and threw out his left to have it taken. He pulled her and she hopped across to sit beside him.

"Careful, you sprinted too hard getting here," he said after she quickly kissed him thanks, "your legs didn't have quite enough jump left in them. Speed isn't everything. Your mother promised to castrate me if anything happened to you."

"That..." Mel took three deep, slow recovery breaths, "that's only if you break my heart. Breaking my neck being a foolish idiot who didn't listen wouldn't surprise her. She wouldn't blame you."

Her smile as she snuggled next to him as their legs dangled in space made him believe that. Almost.

"How is Helen," he asked after a few moments of mutually agreeable silence for both to get their breathing back to baseline, "you talked to her?"

"Yup, I caught her and her new doctor after a night of passion," Mel chuckled, "she and Shelly will get here on the 28th and stay the Labor Day weekend, they'll leave the following Thursday or Friday, depends if they decide to drive in one day or two."

"Fifteen hours, hell of a drive," mused Chris, "I've done those. They hurt."

"There's two of them," Mel shrugged, "they're excited to get here. My mom really, really wants to meet you and Shelly will be happy to see you too. And Frank better be ready, Shelly's really, really horny after all my pictures. She doesn't like the boys at home, she has good taste like me, she's excited to meet Frank."

"Um, I'll warn him. Tell him to lay off the masturbating. Save it."

"I've told both of them how you make me shoot streams of cum out of my pussy when you fuck me hard up the ass," Mel said cheerily, "they're really jealous."

"Um, I, huh..."

"Well, I also said you have help from that nasty vibrator that I told them you used to fuck poor Kelly to death with. Fortunately I'm made of sterner stuff."

Chris's gape-jawed expression was met with dancing eyes which gave him no real idea if she'd told them that.

"Which didn't happen," he managed, once again. She smirked. Once again.

"It's all cool with you guys they stay at the house?"

"Sure," he said, "we have that spare room next to Terry's, Sam says we can borrow a futon. And the big sleeper sofa upstairs. Unless someone's going to join us..."

"Get your mind out of the gutter," she elbowed him, but smiled broadly, "your cock and my vibrator aren't getting anywhere near my mom's holes, no matter what she thinks. And Shelly gets Frank. You're stuck with me. Well, unless we get everyone watching another hot movie... Or Maria quits being so upset with us..."

He sighed quietly at that last thought.

"Spoke to Tim and Neil this week, they're just back in town, they said you're welcome to have my old room if you walk around in nothing but heels and they won't charge you rent. Neil's never seen you but apparently Tim's description was quite complimentary."

"Aw, he's so nice. But I get that deal now," she squeezed his hand, "nicer house, cuter roommates."

"They'll post tomorrow on the 'Roommates Wanted' board," he chuckled and pointed at what they could see of the Student Union building, "up there. They'll find someone who they'll probably expect to wear clothes and pay rent."

"Maybe they'll find some hot chick just moved to town," she said with another hand squeeze.

"Talked to one of the soccer guys Thursday," he said after a few moments of relaxed silence, "used to run here with me but blew out his knee in a game in the spring. He told me some French guy is calling our obstacle running parkour, made a short film of himself and buddies running around Paris."

"Hah," she snorted, "that's why you computer science guys will never get rich and rule the world. You invent things then don't realize what you invented. Like that arpa inter usenet whatever thing. Don't let us dummies know about them until you get caught!"

"Can't totally disagree..." he mused, "about those networks. We posted Wednesday night and it's just been polite 'yeah, sure' until this morning. I looked quickly before I came here to meet you. My email is totally fucked, quota is filled, like 200 messages, more probably bounced. Have you ever heard of Mount Mallomar?"

"What? The observatory between LA and San Diego? Yeah, of course. What about..."

Her face froze as she made a guess.

"Fuck... Mallomar... What?"

"All I read before I left was 'we confirm the existence of the Caldicott-Bajevic anomalies.' Whatever that means..."

"What?!? FUCK WHAT? YEAH!!"

She threw her arms around him and kissed him hard, their balance teetered slightly for an instant.

"There's like hundreds of postings," he added once they'd stablized.

She smiled hugely as her upper body pogoed on the ledge.

"And you're going to help me go through and delete or answer my email, I can handle questions about the code I wrote but the others are yours. There were also some UFO nut postings about kidnappings. Obviously people heard us on the radio."

"We need home access..."

"I, and you, can't afford a computer. At least not a decent one. Anyway, that bakery by the Pie is open by now, let's go get some bagels and hit the computer lab. You have explaining to do."

He led them down, she followed his foot falls and hand grabs. On the ground he picked up the backpack he'd intentionally dropped on the way up. It had a towel to share and a change of clothes for each, her "computer clothes" and for him denim shorts and a fresh tee, dry socks for both but no other underwear for either. He was just doing up the waist strap to allow him to run without it flapping when she took off.

"Last one there buys," she shouted as she ran.

"You cheating bi...," but he saved his breath for the sprint.

"There's the ass who's screwing up my computers," a load, gruff voice declaimed just as Chris and Mel turned their heads in response to the computer lab door being opened. They'd worked through email and newsgroup postings for almost ninety minutes before the interruption.

Chris heard Mel's soft 'oof' in his ear as his upper right arm pushed hard into her left breast, he'd been nudging it softly against her firm, fully erect nipple as she sat alongside him as they read through the USENET postings following up their Wednesday evening announcement of the satellite coordinates. There'd been a trickle of mostly polite but doubtful responses until the Mount Mallomar observatory had posted their agreement that 'something' was up there. The 'Caldicott-Bajevic Anomalies' was the phrase Mallomar had used and so spoken had been quickly accepted. After that the postings had ranged far and wide in hypotheses about what the 'anomalies' might be as well as other suspected 'sightings' that followed the "anomalies'" tracks across the sky.

"Sorry," he said softly as he caught sight of the speaker. The man was portly bordering on fat, his long dark blond hair halfway down his back and tied into a loose ponytail with lots of stray hairs, a full, scraggly beard of slightly darker hue, again relatively unkempt. His complexion had the pallor of skin used to little more than a steady stream of fluorescent light. The man just behind him was slightly taller and certainly thinner, medium brown hair long enough to cover his ears. His build not that many years ago might've been Chris's but had entered the highway to the destination of the man who'd led the pair into the room. Chris took them as two warnings about a danger of his chosen profession.

Chris was relieved that their positions meant that the newcomers didn't have a clear view as Mel adjusted the hem of his shorts to hide his rapidly deflating penis. She'd been almost unconsciously stroking it as they followed the growing online hubbub.

"Hey, Roger, Dave," Chris managed, Mel gave his thigh a quick squeeze and they separated and swiveled a quarter turn each, "what's up?"

"What's up? More like what's not up," said the large, blond man, "what the hell is that crap you posted about satellites? Your email is fubared and we've been losing sites on the ARPANET due to the flood of messages."

"Crap?" Mel exclaimed, "Hey, he's the 'Bajevic' of Caldicott-Bajevic Anomalies, I'll have you know. He's also my lover."

It was as if Roger and Dave had only now just worked out there was an attractive dark-haired woman next to Chris as both finished spinning their chairs to fully face the newcomers. Chris watched as two sets of eyes tried to focus on Mel's face but drawn as if by gravity down her braless chest, the soft light and the red stripe obscured her obviously erect nipples, her beige miniskirt only just sufficient to hide her unclothed pussy but almost the entirety of her long, athletic legs to her running shoes were exposed. Their mouths moved but no sounds came out.

To confirm her last statement she held Chris's left hand tightly in her right, her chest pushed out as if daring them to stare at it. Being stereotypical computer guys, they did. Chris stood up and Mel followed suit.

"Hey, guys," Chris said as he took advantage of their silence, "this is the Caldicott of the anomalies, this is Melanie Caldicott, but call her that and die. It's Mel... or, Mistress of Astronomical Weirdness. Mel, this is Roger O'Dell. He's the systems administrator who runs all of these machines."

"Um," said the large, blond man, "good to meet you, Mela... Mel," Mel released Chris's hand to shake Roger's.

"And this is Dave Simpson," continued Chris, "he's a PhD student and my TA. He's the one who helped convince Dr. Carlstrom to give me the computer time."

Mel took his hand in turn.

"Dave..." she said slowly, "oh, you're the one who told my boyfriend here all about that student who disappeared?"

Dave's eye's scrunched for a moment but then released and his mouth formed an 'O' as he worked out what she meant. He looked at Chris, who shrugged and nodded. Then he looked back at Mel and nodded but his face was a mask. Mel stepped toward him and put one of her hands on each of his shoulders and stood at arms length. Her figure was well displayed, gravity again forced his eyes to fall down before he dragged them up. She'd released her hair from its running ponytail when they'd arrived in the lab but with the growth since she'd rode the bus into town it was to the bottoms of her shoulder blades, a wavy, softly curly mop of black that framed her face. She had the radiant smile that Chris knew meant something demonic was about to happen.

"You met her then," Mel said huskily, "the succubus. Carole."

Dave's eyes went wide, he started to raise his hands but thought better of it. Roger's mouth dropped open as he looked at the scene. Chris decided his only hope of keeping his computer privileges was to let this run its course, but he didn't know quite what that meant.

"Ye... yeah," he stammered, "um, yeah. I did."

"Tell me, please," her voice was deep, raspy, slow, "was she prettier than me?"

It was all Chris could do to maintain his poker face. Roger's drooling gaze suddenly went hard as he glared at Dave.

"Um, well," Dave's face ranged from panic to utter, sheer mind-eating terror at having to answer the question, "well, um, she, was..."

"And, when she came to the seminar with the doughnuts," Mel said as she pouted and tilted her head slightly and her eyes seemed ready to tear up, "was her skirt shorter than mine is now? Did she have nicer legs too?"

"She, um... she was, lots shorter, Yeah, you're taller. She was, like, barely over five feet. But her skirt was, uh, yeah, really short, awesome legs, she twirled and we saw, um..."

"Oh," said Mel in a chipper tone, "and did she have bigger tits than me?"

"Yeah," said Dave, "I mean, no, um, oh, um, ah... like maybe same size or um, close..."

Mel's face broke into a huge grin and she squeezed a deeply blushing Dave's shoulders. She looked over at Roger.

"He's just being so polite," Mel said to the blond man, "I've seen her picture. She's without a doubt prettier than me. Lots. And if her tits were bigger, and her legs better, and such a tiny skirt, no wonder you guys called her the succubus, the demon of CS guys after that doughnut seminar."

She released Dave, who wavered like he was about to faint before he caught himself, then she slipped her arm around Chris's waist as he put his arm around her shoulder.

"I'm HIS demon," she said to them, then she kissed Chris's cheek.

"You ass," said Roger as he glared at Dave, who turned his face slowly to look at him, the blond's face had gone slightly red, "you told me she was 'nothing special' when I found out you hadn't bothered to warn me she was coming that day. I knew it. Everyone else was near catatonic after that visit. You've been bullshitting me these years, telling me it wasn't so much as all that..."

"And her friend that day," said Mel, "was apparently almost as good looking, right Dave?"

"Oh yeah, dark hair, taller, but shorter than you," Dave put his hands in front of his chest, "and bigger than both of... um..."

Mel's grin was audible, as was Dave's groan and Roger's sharp exhale.

"That would have been Jane," said Roger, looking at Mel then back at Dave, "the 'ugly' one. This ass and his old buddy Prakash told everyone but me to show up. Hell, I heard one of the women who was there turned lesbian after seeing them and a gay guy never sucked another cock. Even Dr. Carlstrom apparently was having to adjust his crotch. But me, no, no one bothered to inform poor Roger!"

"So long as we're on this subject," Chris said, warming to the subject, "was Peter the kind of guy to just disappear?"

Peter? That lucky SOB," said Roger, "who was apparently sticking it to this 'nothing special' succubus. Hell no. He hated his family, I never knew what was up with that, but he loved programming. Was a good student, great grades, I was going to hire him to work in the computer center for the summer since Dr. Carlstrom couldn't pay him."

Dave nodded to confirm the info.

"We were all pretty shocked when we heard," he continued, "knew it had to be something with the girl. I, as you now have learned, never met her. Unlike certain assholes currently in the room."

Dave's long, slow, clearly audible sigh conveyed not just his apologies to Roger but also his memory of his friend.

"Yeah," Dave started slowly, "the whole succubus thing was his idea, something about how they'd met. He actually did seem serious about it, but he also claimed they'd gotten 'around it.' Whatever that meant. But he was not one to just up and go, he'd have known he'd be leaving us in a lurch. And yeah, he didn't like people he didn't like but he got along around here. But they seemed to like each other. Lots. He was about six feet tall, quite the sight the two of them."

Chris felt Mel's look of satisfaction was likely only readable by him.

"Now," Chris continued, offense the best form of defence, "what's up with you guys hanging out here on a Sunday? I mean, we're changing the world, but what are you two doing?"

"Changing the..." Roger started then stopped, "shit. I got a page this morning from an ops guy who was going to do backups, 'it's going to shit' he told me. I came in, found your email up the creek and the USENET feed going nuts. I was going to call you at home and tear you a new one when I saw you were logged on here. Dave came in complaining to me about some big simulation he said is having issues running. Thinks he's going to finish his dissertation this year. Fat chance of that. Anyway, what the fuck did you, um, two, the two of you do?"

"Remember the fireball?" Chris asked.

"Yeah," in stereo, as Mel squeezed his waist.

"This one suspected it was a satellite crashing," Chris kissed her quickly just above the ear, "and based on the guidance this astronomy genius has been giving me I've been using the computer allowance you gave me to run all kinds of orbits to match the satellite that crashed. We used that info to go stargazing and found the 'anomalies' which we think are secret satellites. We posted our orbital mechanics Wednesday evening and Mt. Mallomar posted a few hours ago they confirmed our sightings. Well, it's hard, the satellites are stealthed or something. You see them by not seeing them. Sorta. We, um, also claimed that the satellites are alien. Two more are up there, so there were three but one crashed in Nevada."

"That's most of it," Mel added, "but I'm pretty sure that Carole the succubus had some connection to the aliens and she and they took your friend away. We told Bart Shell that on his weirdo show Friday night. Some of the postings are about that."