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Somewhat later as the new conspirators sat round the dining table, pooling their admittedly scant knowledge, Sanjay had an epiphany. "Oh no!" he groaned.
"What is it, Sanj?" Alison asked, and the rest of the little gathering turned to look at him.
He threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes dramatically. "We're a fucking Scooby gang!"
Eva and a couple of the other younger ones looked baffled.
"Like in Buffy! Elena is Buffy, Alan is Angel, and Jess is, I don't know, um, Willow, which makes me Xander and Mike is Giles I guess."
Mike laughed. "Except I don't know bugger all about bugger all! Some Watcher I'd make."
"Well bagsy not Thelma," said Merry, "Come on guys, how do we help them? Do we know where they've gone? Do we take supplies or something?"
Alison nudged Sylvie. "Elena would make a great Queen, don't you think?" she said.
"A queen?" Sylvie giggled at the disconnect, then she nodded. "Awesome!" Only later did she think what an odd thing it was to say. A queen?
***
The estate 5pm, 30 th May
The drive south was uneventful, and Alan gave thanks that Sanjay had been sensible about the choice of car, an anonymous silver saloon. He could see three other examples on the motorway without effort. As the car ate up the miles it started to rain, and Alan relaxed. In a little over an hour Elena instructed him to take the next exit to the majestic carpark better known as the M25.
Later still they were driving into the estate Elena had picked as a place to hide. She stared glumly at the familiar surroundings, nothing seemed to have changed. The wind gusted, making the leaves on the trees and hedges shake. It was hard to believe that only two days ago they'd been tumbling in the outsize bed, ignorant of the avalanche teetering above them.
Elena had covered her hair with a scarf and her eyes with a pair of outsize sunglasses despite the gloom. In all her days she never imagined she would be back here. The miasma of despair coloured everything in shades of grey and the rain only made it worse. Some unpleasant memories threatened to surface, and she suppressed them ruthlessly. 'I am Doctor Kowalski,' she murmured fiercely under her breath.
Jess looked across at her. Elena's aura was muted. She didn't try to comfort her. This had been her suggestion and perhaps it was time she dealt with this properly and put it behind her.
Elena directed Alan to an unremarkable mid terrace house, and he parked at the kerb. The house looked exactly the same as it had when Elena used to pass it on the way to school. She got out and accompanied Alan to the front door.
Having knocked, they waited perhaps a minute before it opened to reveal a big man, comfortably 6' plus, with a buzz cut above broad shoulders and a barrel of a chest. He might have been in his late 30s, possibly early 40s with a white tee shirt stretched across the expanse of his torso, and the first signs of a paunch pushing over the belt of his jeans. His gaze lingered on Elena for a moment before he returned his attention to Alan.
"Nick's retired," he replied to Alan's request. "Whatchawant?"
Taking a gamble that he was speaking to Nick's successor, Alan stated his requirements. The other man's brows drew down.
Elena watched, simultaneously fascinated and appalled, as Jess and Alan dipped into his emotions and gently coaxed them into more favourable patterns. If the Folk ever caught the full attention of mundane humanity, the Salem witch trials would be a walk in the park by comparison. From somewhere inside her she heard a sardonic chuckle.
He was, if not smiling, then not actually frowning now. The story Alan concocted seemed to have done the trick and the new Nick disappeared for a few moments, returning with a phone and a key with a tag attached to it.
"One of yer furry brethren per," he rumbled.
"What?" said Alan, baffled.
"He wants a monkey," Elena said, tiredly.
"Huh?" Alan was no more enlightened.
Elena and new Nick shared a glance.
"£500."
"Oh, no problem," Alan said confidently, and Elena winced. Never show your hand.
"A night," grunted new Nick, and Alan's hand paused a moment before he sighed and counted out more notes.
New Nick took the wad of paper and stuffed it into a pocket.
"Aren't you going to check it?" Alan asked and Elena cringed.
"We'll know about it if there's a problem," she muttered as she turned to go. New Nick's expression didn't change but Alan detected approval as he closed the door.
Elena's suspicions regarding the paucity of the Folk's resources were borne out. Alan might be good at the surveillance and gossip and could doubtless navigate any purely social situation on native charisma, but he was out of his depth here.
Alan went to follow Elena, but paused a moment to watch her retreating form and start to wonder exactly who he was bound to.
In the car he inclined his head to the house he'd just left. "We've damped down his suspicions but sooner or later he's going to start wondering who to sell the information to."
"What do you mean?" Elena asked.
"Fugitives are always tradeable. Even if you don't know what, or who, they're running from?" Jess replied.
"It's the Nivens north of here but they're Independents so I don't think they'll be involved." Alan said, as he pulled away from the kerb and joined the traffic.
"Independents?" Elena queried, feeling in the dark again.
"Families of the Folk that don't align to any clique. Generally they actively avoid politics. They'd tell the Elect to sling their hook."
Elena settled back into her seat not feeling greatly reassured.
***
Afterwards the new Nick could not remember what Alan looked like exactly, or how many people had been in the car. There had been a car, hadn't there? His brow furrowed for a moment and then he looked at the money in his hand. He'd trousered a couple of grand so that was solid.
***
The safe house 6pm, 30 th May
After dropping the hire car off, Alan called a taxi.
"Dosh up front," the taxi driver said tersely once he'd received the destination. "An I ent stoppin'."
"How are we supposed to get out?" asked Jess, puzzled.
"He means we should be holding our bags and be ready to bail the moment he pulls up," Elena informed her.
The rain had stopped in favour of fog and as they drove further into the estate, the buildings passed like ghosts. Jess looked about her with growing incredulity. "I didn't know places like this existed!"
"No four poster beds here," Elena murmured sardonically. "Not unless they've fallen off the back of a lorry."
Jess shifted uncomfortably.
The taxi dropped them off at the address which turned out to be a flat on the top floor of a multi-storey block that had seen better days. He was already accelerating before Jess closed the car door.
Elena scowled and pursed her lips. "Looks like things haven't changed much. The fog's a bonus, fewer people to clock that we're new."
Alan was looking at their surroundings and hadn't really been listening. "This is perfect!" he exclaimed. "There's so much negativity here, it'll bury us if we keep our heads down!" His smile slipped at Elena's expression.
"I grew up here," she said, curtly.
"Um," he started.
"Forget it," she muttered.
The lift was out of order, and they trudged up the stairs to a darkened corridor. Peering at the numbers on the doors revealed their new home. There was a padlock in addition to the usual Yale and Jess stared at it. Elena could feel shades of apprehension and fear colouring her aura. She tried very hard not to take a certain malign pleasure in her girlfriend's discomfiture.
Letting themselves in, they discovered that the outer surface of the door was a just a thin wooden panel covering a very business-like steel plate with some equally impressive bolts for security. However, the interior turned out to be a clean and tidy two bedroom apartment with a lounge to boot. There was heating and hot water, fresh linen in the cupboards and some basic supplies in the kitchen.
"Wasn't expecting this!" Jess said, feeling a certain amount of relief.
"This feels more like a safe house. What kind of outfit needs a facility like this?" Alan said.
"Well you're the experts, you figure it out. I'm going to have a shower," Elena said over her shoulder and disappeared into the bathroom.
Alan turned to Jess. "I asked for four days. I don't have much experience in undercover but two grand for this seems cheap. I think we should plan to move sooner rather than later."
Jess gloomily agreed. She'd come to appreciate that while Alan had an in depth knowledge of the geopolitics of both Sapiens and the Folk, he lacked for a few skills in this sort of practical espionage. Uneasily, she found herself thinking that he would make an excellent Shadow. Seeing as the other two roles of the Trinity were occupied, that left her as the Sword, and she had no idea how that could come about without giving herself over wholly to the avatar. She shivered.
***
In the bathroom, Elena set about investigating the operation of the shower. However, analytical brain was still working through the reframing of her perceptions of her companions. Raised on a diet of le Carré and Graham Greene, she had assumed a default level of competence from Jess and Alan. However, she though it was probably not at the level of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. So, no Gary Oldman. Although Alan could be suitably brooding when he wanted to be.
She hoped she wasn't living through an episode of Johnny English. What would the gaps in their competencies do to their chances of surviving this threat - whatever the threat was? She still had a very nebulous idea as to who was pursuing them and why. It didn't seem as if Jess or Alan knew much more.
***
When they had all had a chance to freshen up, they convened in the living room to try to work out what to do next. After a few minutes of animated discussion - and quite a lot of swearing - there was general agreement that to hunker down for a few days would probably be best. Jess and Elena took the double bed in the larger bedroom and Alan claimed the other. It was a shame they couldn't all be together, but needs must and frankly they were all exhausted from the tension.
***
Later in the evening after they'd all had a nap, they rose and assembled in the living room. Alan went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and Jess disappeared into the larger bedroom only to re-emerge a few moments later. She approached Elena with her hands behind her back and Elena eyed her suspiciously.
Jess shyly held out a small box with a decorative bow.
Elena's eyes widened. "A present? For all the fuck that's holy, you're giving me a present now?"
Jess shrugged. "I bought it specially, but I didn't get to give it to you. After everything that's happened, I thought I might not ever have another chance."
Elena thought she might burst. She flung her arms around her lover. "You stupid girl! You stupid, stupid girl!"
Jess held her tight and buried her face in Elena's shoulder. "Aren't you going to open it?" she mumbled.
Alan appeared with the tea and leaned against the door jamb, his expression wistful. No matter his current circumstances, he was late to this particular party.
Elena disengaged herself and fumbled with the bow. Removing the lid of the box, she stared at the crystal bottle. "Perfume? You bought me perfume?"
She was taken aback. Apart from some experiments in her teens, one of which had left her with an abiding loathing of citrusy freshness, she'd settled on a Paco Rabanne stalwart - when she could be bothered - as something neither terribly costly nor particularly offensive.
Cautiously she dabbed some on her wrists and rubbed them together. It evolved slowly from jasmine to patchouli, with sandalwood notes that reminded her of Jess' father. The grassy vetiver summoned memories of kicking around overgrown playing fields and for long moments she was lost.
Her eyes rose to Alan, and she held out her wrists to him. "Jess has bought me some perfume."
Alan gave Jess a knowing glance and she promptly turned a fetching shade of crimson. He leaned in for a decent sniff and the two women could feel his surprise and pleasure rise above a distinct pulse of affection and lust.
"Whoa, baby!" he murmured.
"The girl done good then?" Elena smiled.
"Oh yeah."
If possible, Jess went even redder. She adored it, from the moment Elena put it on, to the times when she would be doing the laundry, and she would bury her nose in Elena's discarded clothes and inhale her essence.
***
The safe house 31 st May - 1 st June
The next 24 hours were spent engaged in humanity's two most favourite activities, talking and fucking. In bed and out of it. They didn't have an upstairs or downstairs, but they most definitely had a lady's chamber. It was a remarkably effective stress reliever.
On morning of the third day, the girls lay either side of Alan, each with a hand on his cock, which being fully erect and pleasingly warm and firm, they agreed was rather wonderful. Naturally Alan concurred with them but was informed that that was because he was a man and thus no different from every other man that ever lived.
He lay back with his hands behind his head and reflected on his blessed state of affairs.
"What do you want to do, love?" Jess asked across the lightly furred expanse of Alan's chest.
Elena turned her head and grey eyes met blue. "Oh, I don't know!" she laughed, "sixty-nine with you while Alan fucks us into a sweaty mess?"
The man in question gasped as they gently squeezed in tandem. It didn't help that their breasts were pressed against him, and their legs slid up and down to caress his thighs. It was something he hoped there would be more of, providing they survived this. He reached to run his fingers through their hair, the pink and the blonde.
"I am at your disposal."
"Good!" said Jess and she sat up preparatory to clambering astride him. Elena guided his member into place between Jess' swollen sex lips and she lowered herself in stages, until he was fully embedded inside her. Elena stroked Jess' clit gently with her thumb and her girlfriend's breathing got noticeably heavier.
Elena had a wonderful view of his shaft disappearing between her girlfriend's swollen sex lips, only to emerge coated in her slick juices. She licked her lips as she thought about licking his cock clean of her wetness and his cum in due course. But first she had a different idea.
She straddled his face and lowered herself onto his waiting mouth. Then as his tongue invaded her, she leaned forward to kiss Jess, their tongues immediately meeting to slip and caress in an imitation of what was happening between their legs.
Jess rested her forehead on Elena's, and they breathed each other in. Her eyes burned. "You were talking about your favourite position? Well I'd quite like some cunt. Yours to be precise."
Shortly Jess was revelling in the earthy scent of her lover's sex, her lips, tongue and face coated in the tart, slick, wonderfulness. Elena, just about on her hands and knees, struggled to concentrate as Jess lashed her clit and Alan speared her sex with relentless savage strokes. Explosions of love and pleasure in colours she could not name drowned her in passion and community.
However, she was dimly aware that analytical brain was still on watch for her.
Conscious of Alan and Jess competing to see who could tweak who into ever more sophisticated states of arousal, she tried a tweak of her own. There was a flare of blinding coral and silver, and her hapless partners reeled in the glare.
"Christ! Turn it down a bit Elena!" Alan appealed as he scrambled round the bed to service Jess.
Elena giggled and then groaned, feeling her climax approach as Jess redoubled her attention to her sex, sliding two fingers in to stroke the inner walls of her cunt. How did Jess maintain her concentration when she was being so thoroughly and expertly fucked? In her turn, Jess reflected that there was nothing quite like a good firm cock attached to a living, breathing, warm blooded man.
As the moment approached, rational thought slowly dissolved in an ocean of ecstasy.
***
Their lovemaking explored many forms. Sometimes the two women rode Alan like some human sybian, an object for them to use while they communed in white heat above him, grinding astride his face and his cock while they kissed. Then it would be his turn to command them, a sultan with his harem, their will subservient to his needs. At others he simply watched as they went at each other with what seemed like religious fervour.
Finally they lay gasping like beached fish, empty of thought but with clasped hands.
After a while, Alan raised himself on to one elbow. The two women's eyes locked on to his in almost inhuman fashion.
"If that isn't a binding, I don't know what is," he whispered, and they reached to caress his cheek with their fingers.
***
Even buried in the emotional quagmire of a depressed housing estate, the binding shone like a beacon of hope and love and defiance. Sensitives at some remove shook their heads, this was not the way to stay undercover! However, they smiled as they watched, for to some ways of thinking, this is what their species did, its advantage, its raison d'etre. The narrative sought to subtly reinforce their feelings, and consequently many did not report their observations to their handlers.
However ...
"Got them!" shouted a savant.
"What the fuck?" said another.
"... Oh, that's weird," gasped a third.
"Stop blathering and tell us what's going on!" shouted the supervisor. "Where are they?"
"Somewhere north of London. There's an awful lot of interference."
"How close are they to Union?" someone important demanded.
A couple of faces turned toward them.
"They're off the narrative!"
"What do you mean?"
"It's more like a quartet! I've never felt anything like it! Colour me fangirl!" said one, her face wreathed in smiles.
The supervisors struggled for control. Emotional contagion was a known hazard.
"But Union?" the section head bellowed over the increasing din.
***
Bizarrely, between worry at their predicament and the creeping horror of their potential, the trio found time for laughter, a little joy in their new coupling. Or should that be tripling?
Over either a very late lunch or a very early dinner, the lovers had an animated discussion as to whether they should write a book entitled, 'Sex positions for the adventurous FFM', or 'Sex positions for the uninhibited FFM', and whether it should have drawings or photographs.
During the verbal jousting, Elena revelled in Jess' quick witted cleverness and Alan's lightning fast riposte. They had found their perfect complement. She looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup, taking in the iridescent sheen of his hair and his dark violet inflected eyes. Those eyes flicked to her, and a ripple of green tinted mischief crossed her. She smiled into her coffee. He was the counterbalance to their female coupling just as she was to their representation of the Folk.
Something tickled at the back of her mind. If she and Alan had a balancing role in their union, then Jess surely had one too. 'On it,' said analytical brain.
Her gaze turned to Jess' pink shock, then drifted south to take in the infinite blue wells of her eyes, the bow of her achingly soft lips, the elegant arc of her neck and the swell of her bosom. Dear God but she was perfect. Her girlfriend gave her a sultry half lidded glance ripe with innuendo and Elena giggled.
"Hey, that's cheating," said Alan in mock outrage.
