Unforgettable

Ursula almost remembered the dream that night.

The alarm shattered most of it; even as she was waking up, the strident buzzing noise crashed through the memories, leaving nothing but fragments. She grasped at them, trying to hang onto something, anything at all. There was a hand, she knew, a hand sliding down the swell of her hip and...and a taste like wet rubber...no good. It was gone. Ursula hit the snooze button, but the dream didn't come back. Instead, she just lay there, her hand drifting down between her thighs to feel her slick pussy, touching her tingling clit... The dream always left her horny as fuck, whatever it was.

The alarm went off a second time before she could really do anything about it, though, and Ursula rolled over to realize she didn't have time to indulge even if she could... She staggered out of bed and stumbled into the shower, counting on the hot water to help her body realize that it wasn't time to masturbate, it was time to get to work. Even so, she found herself devoting a little extra attention to making sure her cunt was nice and soaped up (hands all over her body) before taking the shower head attachment and giving it a nice, long rinse with plenty of water pressure (her own voice moaning, "feels soooo good...") But as always lately, she couldn't seem to close the gap between pleasure and release. The pleasure just reminded her of the dream, and then she tried to chase those memories and wound up with nothing but frustration. Frustrated in body, frustrated in mind. Not the best way to start work.

She pulled her comb angrily through her long auburn hair. She'd have to leave it wet, there was just no time to dry it. No time for contacts, either--she just slipped a pair of glasses over her liquid brown eyes, bringing the world into focus (was the world in focus in the dream? A momentary flash of someone taking off her glasses, the last flash she'd get all day) and pulled on her clothes before heading out the door into the gray London morning.

Work was already chaotic by the time she got there. Customer queues were up to ten minutes, dropped calls were spiking, and Andrea shot her a look when she walked in that was half-glare, half-plea. "No time for coffee this morning, Ursie. Just get on the phones, I'll give you an extra break once things calm down."

Ursula winced. "Without coffee, I'm liable to reach straight through the phone lines and strangle someone. What the fuck happened, anyway? Was there a recall or something?"

Andrea waved her to her desk as she talked. "No, a firmware update with a bug in it. They're hot-patching through a fix in an hour or two, but we get the fallout in the meanwhile. Go, sit. I'll bring you coffee. Black, right?"

"Two sugars," Ursula said. "I'll need the extra energy." She saw Andrea's sympathetic look just before her manager darted out of view; pretty much the whole office knew that Ursula had been sleeping like shit for the past three weeks, even if she hadn't gotten into the details of the dream that had been leaving her wrung out, frustrated, and irritable. Andrea was being about as nice as she could be, given that Ursula knew she couldn't be very pleasant to be around right now.

Unlike some other people, Ursula thought, putting on her headphones as she signed in. The flood of calls kept her from even finishing that sentence in her head for a minute or two as she politely explained to one caller after another that this was merely a momentary disruption in service, and that the ETA of the fix was now two hours. But as she went through her emails and read up on details of the bug (how the fuck had this even gone live? she wondered), she noticed that once again, there were no emails from Chandra. No "good morning", no "how did you sleep?", not even a forwarded list of lawyer jokes.

During the half-second pause from one call to the next, Ursula leaned back in her chair. Sure enough, Chandra was sitting just three cubicles down, and Ursula could hear her best friend's clipped, polite tones as she delivered the same apologetic bromides that Ursula herself had been saying. But she didn't have anything to say to Ursula.

Ursula tried to push it all out of her head and focus on work. No time for fragments of dream, no time to wonder which particular burst of frustration had pissed off Chandra so bad, no time to think about how she was horny all the time but sessions with her vibrator just seemed to whet the appetite of a body that ached so bad for some secret pleasure locked in the world of slumber and Ursula didn't even know what it was, but she needed it, needed it so fucking bad that...

Her hands shook as she took a gulp of coffee between calls. "Fucking hell," she muttered to herself, barely managing to mute the phone first.

Around ten o'clock the patch went through, and call volume finally subsided to a dull roar long enough for Ursula to look at the break schedule. True to her word, Andrea had scheduled her for an extra ten minutes at around four--right when Chandra had her break, too. Was the whole office aware that they were fighting now? (What was she thinking--of course the office was aware of it. This place ran on gossip and coffee like cars ran on gasoline.) Whatever the reason, Andrea had given them a chance to talk, and Ursula intended to use it. The day might have started shit and gotten worse, but she was going to get one positive thing done. She was going to patch things up with her best friend.

At four, she signed out of the phones and stood up. "Chandra," she said as she headed down the rows, "I was--" She stopped. Chandra was already four cubicles down and accelerating, her head resolutely forward in a way that made it obvious that she'd looked at the break schedules too and wanted to make it absolutely clear that she didn't notice Ursula behind her. Ursula thought about pursuing, but some of the tension inside her chose that moment to snap. "Fuck it," she grunted, prompting an irritated look from Janine, who was on the phone with a customer. Ursula headed off to get another coffee.

She sat there in the break room, staring out the window at the little wind chimes that some bugger had hung up in the hopes that it would make the place look cheerful and stirring her coffee, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. Not just with Chandra, with...with...the sun briefly peeked out from behind the clouds, throwing the crystals of the wind chime into brief, dazzling light. The sparkling crystal caught Ursula's eye for just a moment, a perfect rainbow effect, and she whispered to herself, "can't resist..."

She blinked. Where the hell had that come from? Resist what? She tugged at her bangs in frustration. This had all started because of the dreams. If she could just remember what she was dreaming about, then maybe she could patch things up with Chandra, and--

No. That didn't make sense. Whatever was up with Chandra, it had absolutely nothing to do with the dreams that had haunted her for the last three weeks. Even as Ursula tried to wonder why she was so certain of that, the insistent refrain kept up in the back of her mind that Chandra had nothing to do with it, until she couldn't even remember exactly what it was that Chandra didn't have anything to do with anymore. Frazzled and bewildered, she took her coffee back to work with her, barely making it back in time to sign in, and finished her shift in the same bad mood she'd started it in.

And then it was off for home. Ursula watched a bit of telly when she got in, but her heart wasn't in it. Instead, she found herself sliding between the sheets, pulling out her vibrator, and slowly slipping it into a cunt that had been wet and needy all fucking day. She pumped the dildo in and out of herself, turning up the buzzing sensation to the max, trying to think of bubble baths with David Tennant and lying in front of a fireplace with Richard Grant and, and it wasn't doing any fucking good, she wanted the dream, she needed the dream!

Eventually, she slept.

*****

Ursula very nearly remembered the dream that night.

It was more than two hands, she realized on waking. She could feel a hand on her hip, a pair of hands rubbing her nipples, and hands right down between her thighs, putting pressure with the thumb right on her clit while she moaned out...moaned out...something. That bit was lost.

Ursula pondered this revelation while she soaked under the hot water. It was so vivid, that was the worst thing about it. While she was asleep, the dream wasn't just the usual movie playing in the theater of her mind's eye. It was a full sensurround performance of the most erotic thing she could possibly imagine, every detail of sight and sound and touch and taste and smell (spices, it smelled like spices) until her body just quivered with need and she woke up to a damp patch on her sheets (hands behind her back, she couldn't move them)...

And then she woke up, and it just poured away like water down a drain. Gone into the recesses of her mind, no matter how hard she chased after it. No matter how long she stared down at the drain, watching the water swirl away and trying to remember just a little bit more (salty taste of sweat-slick flesh in her mouth) and just a little bit more ("the pendant always dangles down...") and...

When she got out, Ursula let out a tiny yelp as she realized she'd been in the shower for forty-five minutes. More wet hair, no contacts again, and even with all that she still walked into work five minutes late. Andrea shot her an undiluted glare, and frustration almost made Ursula glare right back before she reminded herself that things like that were why Chandra wasn't on speaking terms with her anymore. Instead, she swallowed her irritation and said, "Sorry, trouble sleeping again."

"Thought about seeing a therapist?" Andrea asked.

"With what this job pays?" Ursula said wryly. "I'd be lucky if I could afford a stage hypnotist." She blinked. "I must be tired, I don't even know what that fucking means."

Andrea patted her on the shoulder. "Just try not to take it out on the customers, love," she said. "Friday's coming soon, you'll have the whole weekend to try to get your head together."

"Alcohol helps that, doesn't it?" Ursula said as she headed to her cube, and the two parted with a laugh.

But the joke sparked a thought in Ursula's mind, as she went through the normal routine of skimming through memos and checking email (still nothing from Chandra) and answering call after dull, interminable call. Alcohol. Not right that moment, of course; Ursula might be fried, but she wasn't fried enough to drink on the job. No, Ursula was thinking about Friday nights after work, office girls getting together to have a drink or two to unwind after a long, stressful workweek. Ursula hadn't been to one since the dreams had started, she'd been too afraid that liquor would loosen her tongue without getting rid of her stress, an ugly combination. But if she went tomorrow night...and if she could convince Chandra to go as well, just for one or two drinks...

Ursula felt certain that all she needed to do was just talk to her. They'd been friends for four years now, ever since they'd both been trainees here. They'd shared the heartbreak of Ursula's big break-up with Keith, Ursula collapsing into a puddle of sobs on Chandra's couch. She'd returned the favor when Chandra's grandfather had died, consoling her friend and going to the funeral with her. Whatever this was, it couldn't come between them forever. Could it?

She signed out of work a half-minute early, drawing another tiny glare from Andrea that was met with a pleading glance. She'd make it up to her boss tomorrow. Today, she needed to already be on her feet as Chandra was signing out of the network, already heading down the row as Chandra was standing up, so she could shout, "Chandra!" in a tone of forced cheer.

Chandra looked anything but cheerful as she spun around. She looked like she'd been cornered by an angry tiger. "Urs..." she said, nervously. "I, um, I can't stay. Got to hurry home..."

"Tomorrow," Ursula said. "Friday nights at the Roving Pony? Just come out for a drink or two, us and the girls. Neutral ground, one drink and then you can skip off if you want." She tried to sound casual, keeping the pleading out of her voice.

"I, I...can't, I can't, I'm sorry," Chandra said as she gathered her stuff up hurriedly. All around them, co-workers hurried out the door, trying to be polite and not eavesdrop on what was obviously a private conversation. (They'd all just try to get it out of either Ursula or Chandra the next day.)

"Look, I can't remember what I did to make you so mad," Ursula said, "but whatever it is, I'm sorry."

Wrong thing to say. Chandra clutched her handbag convulsively like a gunshot victim, and practically sprinted for the door, with one last "I'm sorry," trailing her out as she left.

Ursula sighed, making her own way to the exit. Whatever it was that had made Chandra mad, it was clearly one of those things that Ursula was expected to not need to be told. Which would only make things more difficult, if (as was the case) Ursula really did have no idea what she'd done wrong. She tried to think back to the last night she and Chandra had spoken...

And decided it must not have anything to do with that night. That night had been perfectly normal, just two good friends having a quiet evening of boring telly and casual conversation. Nothing important, nothing to worry about, and certainly nothing that would cost Ursula a friendship.

Which left Ursula just as confused about Chandra as she was about the dreams, she thought as she got back to her apartment. (Not that the two had anything to do with each other.) It was all just a big mess, a bunch of big messes all tangling together and leaving her strung up in the web of it all. She flipped on the TV angrily, hoping for some sort of distraction.

Instead, her body distracted her from the TV. She sat there on the couch, trying to numb her brain with one reality show or another, but her hand just crept down into the waistband of her trousers. She found that hot, needy crease and slipped a finger inside, hand trapped by the fabric of her pants (couldn't move her hands, just quivered in ecstasy) as she diddled her clit. The television just became a blur of images as her eyes unfocused (staring straight ahead, eyes vacant and empty) and she felt like she was getting closer, like she was almost there, almost remembering the perfect pleasure of the dream...

And as soon as she thought of the dream, she lost it. It was like a gate slamming down in her mind, cutting her off from the memory and the pleasure with it. Ursula almost cried. Her mind couldn't remember the dream, but her pussy certainly could, and it seemed like nothing else would satisfy it. She never stopped being horny now, she wanted to masturbate herself stupid...

Instead, she went to bed.

*****

Ursula thought she remembered the dream that night.

It was right there, all crystal clear as she woke up. She remembered it perfectly, in every vivid, glorious, hot, sexy, wonderful detail. It seemed so silly that she'd ever forgotten it. The knowledge completed her, not just filling the nagging ache that came from not knowing but filling in every missing part of her soul. Ursula reveled in the knowledge, holding it in her mind like it was a tangible object, one that she just wanted to hold forever...

Then she really woke up.

That was almost the last straw. When she realized that she'd just been dreaming that she remembered the dream, Ursula let out a choked sob into her pillow, the despairing cry of a woman close to her breaking point. She looked over at the clock, and even though it was still an hour or so before the alarm would go off, Ursula knew she wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night. She got up wearily, trudged into the shower, and cleaned herself off perfunctorily before slipping on her clothes. At least today she had time to dry her hair before heading off to the tube.

She got to work twenty minutes early, which earned her back some of the goodwill she'd lost yesterday with Andrea, and made another deposit in her friendship bank by promising to buy the first round at the Roving Pony. But the rest of the day passed in a haze, punctuated by moping stares at Chandra's back, bathroom breaks that always seemed to end with her fingers in her snatch, and a dull, grinding headache that aspirin couldn't cure. The pub promised to help with none of that, but at least she could get too drunk to care.

Ursula walked into the Prancing Pony to a round of cheers from eager co-workers; she tried to hide her disappointment on seeing that Chandra wasn't one of them. Instead, she bought a round of drinks and listened politely to the gossip currently circulating through the office (Mrs. Halliday was preggers again, Jakob was schtupping a girl in HR, and something about someone being gay that got stifled rather quickly when she came in earshot.) After a few rounds, she found herself sitting by Andrea.

"Glad you decided to come out here," Andrea said as she took a gulp of stout. "It might not help you with your sleep problems, but at least you can forget them for a while. Shame Chandra didn't make the trip, though. I thought that maybe once you'd forgiven her, she--"

"Me?" Ursula said, trying not to sound bitter. "I've got no problem with Chandra at all! She's the one who's got the problem."

Andrea quirked her eyebrow. "Well, whatever her problem is, you seem to be the one who's not letting it go. I've seen the looks she gives you when you're not watching. She feels terrible about it, Ursie. Whatever 'it' is." Andrea put her hand on Ursula's. "You've been friends forever. Whatever it was she did, is it really worth losing your friendship over?"

Ursula furrowed her brow. "But she didn't do...I mean, I thought she was mad at me, because..." She knew she was babbling even without the worried look that Andrea was giving her, but her head seemed to be coming apart and she couldn't seem to form proper sentences. "If it's her that feels guilty, then...it couldn't have been, I..."

And then Ursula remembered the dream.

*****

"I'm not so sure about this, Chan," Ursula said as she wriggled around on the couch, trying to get comfortable. "I mean, yeah, I did say I was curious, Derren Brown and all that, but you're not exactly a professional, are you?"

Chandra smiled. "Not to worry, Ursie," she said as she unclipped her necklace, letting the crystal pendant dangle from her hand. "This is an old hobby of mine, I used to do it all the time with my brothers and sisters."

"And I used to give my little brother Chinese burns all the time, but you don't see me offering to demonstrate that to you," Ursula said with a wry grin. All the same, she took a deep breath, inhaling the reassuring scent of spices that always seemed to linger in Chandra's apartment, and let it out.

"Trust me," Chandra said. "You'll love this. It's easy, Ursie. Easier than easy. You don't even need to do anything. Just...hang on." She reached over and pulled Ursula's glasses off. "There. Like I was saying, you don't need to do anything at all. That's what trance is all about, Ursula. Just letting things happen."

She held up the pendant, letting it sway just slightly in her hand as she brought it up just above Ursula's eyeline. "You can just watch the pendant, Ursula, and all you need to do is watch and listen and relax. And that's really just like doing nothing at all. You don't need to do anything to watch the pendant, it's just swinging back and forth right in front of you. You don't need to do anything to listen to my voice, my words just go right into your head as you sit there. You don't need to do anything to relax, Ursula. It just happens all on its own."