We Deliver all Things

"Delivery for Doctor Turner, Lab 7. Where can I find it?"

Alex looked down at the receptionist and noted her name tag, Jenny, and her cute smile. He decided not to throw in his laconic Australian charm, his accent would do.

"Down that corridor, through the atrium, second on the left," Jenny replied. "I can ring ahead if you like. She prefers a warning of visitors." Jenny had a lovely English accent that made Alex weak at the knees - ever so slightly posh but not loud about it.

"Yeah, why not? Cheers." Alex smiled down at the young woman and was rewarded with a dimple. A pretty girl with a nice smile, he could see why she was front of house. He gave her a smile with his eyes in recognition of her engaging presence. How politically incorrect to think like that, he thought, but what the fuck? He caught the delightful smile again, before she realised it and was suddenly busy with a pen.

Jenny admired his taut ass in tight jeans as Alex pushed the trolley down the corridor. Lucky Alice, she thought, taking a delivery from that guy. She picked up the phone and dialled through to the lab, twirling the pen in her fingers.

A minute later Alex arrived outside the laboratory's glass panelled door, and angled up the trolley for a clean entrance. He was about to knock on the glass when the door opened, and a tall, slim woman in light grey slacks and a crisp white blouse beckoned him in.

"Over there," she gestured, pointing towards a corner of the room. "Give me a moment, I'm just finishing something."

She turned away, giving Alex the opportunity to admire the way the tailored trousers clung to her trim backside. No panty line, he observed; now that's unusual. Most women wearing clinging garments revealed the lines of a thong, or bikini knickers.

A connoisseur of tight clothes, Alex noted the thin line of a bra strap across her back. He imagined plain, virginal white; or red, depending what kind of inner life the woman led. Matching, of course. This Doctor Turner worked in a laboratory, so Alex thought some discipline and tidiness would be involved, with a scientific mind.

He thought the escaping twist of honey blonde hair from a tight bun was completely spontaneous though, curling forgotten on her neck; and he doubted Doc Turner knew how damn sexy she looked. He thought of a lab coat and what might be under it.

"There," she said, turning towards him but looking at the crate on the trolley, not at him. "That's done. Which one is this?" she asked.

Alex consulted his tablet. "Macadam Engineering," he said. "From Lewisham."

"Ah, good. They've been slow. Do I need to sign? Yes, I do need to sign, of course I do. Tutt, Alice, do remember these things."

Alex saw that the woman had somehow flustered herself, and he rescued her. "Here," he said, handing her a stylus, "scrawl your moniker here."

He held the pad in both hands to give her a firm surface to write on. She looked down as she signed, and Alex wondered what colour her eyes were, because he'd not seen them yet. Her fingers were long and slim, but she must bite her nails when she concentrated: her fingernails were very short.

In a flash, he imagined those fingertips touching his. Never going to happen, he more consciously thought, she's hardly going to do that. But he wanted to stay, a sudden something blowing through his day like a breeze.

"Do you need a hand unpacking that crate? It's too heavy for a slim thing like you." The flattery slipped easily from his lips, but there was a truth in it. The crate was on a loading trolley after all, and weighed several tens of kilos.

Alice looked around quickly, as if surprised there was some new thing in her lab that wasn't there before. She picked up a pen from the bench, and for no reason that Alex could fathom, stuck it efficiently through the tight coil of her bun, looking instantly like a Japanese geisha in an eighteenth century print. Damn, thought Alex, that's sexy as fuck. Fitted clothes, tight bun, she'll be putting on glasses next. He still hadn't seen her eyes.

"Yes. Yes, that would be useful. Would you mind?" She'd not even registered the compliment, or perhaps it was a self evident truth that warranted no reaction. "Can you? Over there, there's a space for it." She walked over to a cleared space near a floor length window. "Here. That's very kind."

Finally, she looked at him, but just as quickly looked away. She reminded him of someone.

Alex wheeled the trolley to its unloading place and heaved the crate to the floor. "Christ, that's heavy. What you got in there, Doc?"

"It's a three phase supply transformer and..."

She was ready to give him the full specification - she seemed very serious and literal - but Alex didn't need that, so he quickly said, "So you're about to rule the world?"

She stopped talking, with a moue of confusion on her lips.

"Like a James Bond villain," he clarified.

There was a longer pause as she puzzled through what he'd said. "Yes, I mean... not James Bond, no."

"The beautiful doctor, then; very efficient and rather fierce, who is there in the last scene of the movie?"

She finally figured out what Alex was saying and blushed, looking down at her feet.

"Well, it's been lovely meeting you, Doc. Hope the experiments go well." He turned to go.

"More catalogues. You should look through more catalogues." He turned back to look at her again.

"Why?" she asked.

"So I can make more deliveries." He smiled. "To see you another time."

"Oh. I see. I think."

* * * *

"He was teasing you, Alice," Jenny later explained as they ate lunch together in the cafeteria. "It means he likes you. He was flirting." The younger woman had taken Alice under her wing several months before, helping her navigate through day to day life. She giggled.

"What?" asked Alice.

"Lucky you," replied Jenny, "having the delivery guy unpack your box. I wouldn't mind him unpacking mine."

Alice looked down at her hands. "Don't," she said. "You're teasing me too."

"It's okay, love. I won't." Jenny looked at her friend with affection. Sometimes she felt like the older sister, even though Alice was in fact several years older.

The memory of the delivery guy's firm ass flickered through Jenny's mind. She'd grab it, and pull him deeper when he fucked her. Alice, oblivious, set into a sandwich, and before they knew it, lunchtime was over.

Late in the afternoon, before the lab shut, Alice came to see Jenny at the front desk, with a question that had been nagging her all afternoon. "That delivery guy. Did he flirt with you, too? I'm never quite sure how to respond. I've always got my work head on here."

"He did. He likes his women, I reckon." Jenny looked up at Alice, and went on. "What helps, I think; to respond, I mean, is what you've got on underneath. If I'm wearing daggy knickers and my grungy old bra, there's no way I feel sexy enough or confident to flirt back, so I wouldn't. Men would know I was just a daggy girl. But if you're wearing spacey lacies underneath, frilly knicks, men seem to know that, too. Like X-ray vision. They know."

She looked up at her serious friend. "You got a bit of a shine for that delivery bloke, Alice?"

"Gosh, no. It's... it's a hypothetical question."

Jenny smiled. "Of course it is. See you tomorrow, completely hypothetical Alice."

"What? Yes. Of course, tomorrow. Goodnight."

Jenny tidied her desk, wondering about Alice. She was such an innocent, sometimes.

Remembering the delivery guy's grin made Jenny smile. Remembering his backside gave her a little shiver. She ran for the bus and smiled all the way home.

* * * *

A week or so later, Jenny was again at the reception counter when a movement outside caught her eye.

"Hey, Jen! What's up? Your favourite delivery guy with another package for the Doc."

Alex breezed into the foyer, a bounce in his step and a grin for Jenny, a box wrapped in brown paper in his hands.

"Ring ahead, would you, so she doesn't get a shock. Give her time to turn the laser off so I don't get zapped."

"You're playful today," commented Jenny as she reached for the phone. "You remember where to go?"

"Yep. I'm good."

Alex went off down the corridor, Jenny's eyes following his casual stride. The outline of the phone in his back pocket was crisp and precise. Jenny crossed her legs and tugged the edge of her skirt down, even though no-one was looking.

Outside Lab 7 Alex brushed back his hair with one hand to make himself vaguely presentable, the box resting on his hip, pushed up against the wall to keep it from falling. As before, he was about to knock when the door opened and Doctor Turner was there in front of him. This time her eyes were hidden behind a fall of shoulder length hair, halfway between curls and a tight wave.

"It's you again. Good. I mean... Jenny rang to say you were coming. 'The same delivery guy,' she said. I'm just going on, aren't I? Please, come in."

Alex looked at her with a smile. Funny woman, he thought, chattering on; but there's something different about her today. She somehow seemed more certain, but nervous at the same time.

"Your package. Where do you want it?"

"On this table would be perfect," she replied, patting a table with her hand as she leaned back against it, as if she could go no further back and he was pressing her there. "Here."

"Sure thing," Alex said. He placed the package on the table, then held the pad for her signature. Once she'd signed, Alice twisted her hair up into a coiled bun and pushed the stylus through it.

"Ahh... that's my signing stick you've put in your hair, not your pen."

"Oh. It is. I'm sorry. Here, have it back."

Her hair fell in a wave. Suddenly, Alex wanted to smooth it back from her face with one hand and cup her chin with the other, to tilt her face up for a kiss.

Instead, he took the stylus from her, just touching the tips of her fingers as he did so.

"Thanks. I'll keep a closer eye on it, next time."

She blushed, registering what he'd said.

Alex smiled inside. He liked this harmless flirtation, knowing it was most unlikely to lead anywhere, but would be most enjoyable if it did. It all depended, of course, on her need for more deliveries.

As he left he noted the lines of a cross-over halter neck bra on her back. He wondered what colour it was.

* * * *

"He's rather delicious," commented Jenny, as she and Alice sat together at lunch. "Those blue eyes. I could drown, the way he slowly looks you over, up and down. I feel adored, and he's only making small talk."

"He is," Alice replied. She made a note to properly meet Alex's gaze next time, to see his eyes. She momentarily cursed herself for looking away, then shrugged. It was who she was, and she couldn't change it.

"There's something different about you," Jenny added.

There was. Alice couldn't bring herself to tell Jenny, not yet anyway (but she might blurt something out one day), but she had one or two secrets. Jenny's comment the other day about wearing sexy lingerie, and Alex's comment about catalogues, merged two things together in her head.

It had first started one day when she couldn't find her size of Spanx in the nearest department store, and she really didn't like the idea of buying underwear from shops anyway, because who might have touched them? So she'd gone on-line, ordered and paid; and like magic, they arrived in a plain brown parcel in her letterbox a week later. So very simple. And the next time, as a birthday treat for herself, she'd added a sexy set of lingerie to her more practical order.

Alice didn't open the extra package for a week, feeling slightly guilty and a little bit wicked. She'd turn the package over in her hands, admiring the woman in the picture - a disembodied torso really. Then she found herself going on-line, searching for the brand name. She turned the search filters off, clicked on 'Images', and sat, open mouthed and astonished at what she saw. The underwear she'd chosen was very popular, very sexy. She wondered if she looked like some of those women.

And so it began. At first Alice only wore her treasures at home on her own, lounging semi-naked on her bed, her fingers wandering; but then she got braver and would wear them to work, even though no one knew. When Alex arrived with his mention of catalogues and his flirting, and after Jenny's mention of 'what men knew', Alice paid more attention to her hidden apparel. Her fantasy world converged with her real one.

At the beginning of summer, Doctor Turner's research budget was increased just a little, as if the gods knew what she was up to, and she timed her orders just right to get the same delivery guy every time. Only once did someone else come instead, and the next time Alex rocked up he laughed and said, "Did you miss me?" and both of them had. And of course Jenny told him so, and Alice didn't.

Alice also found she had so many pairs of matching underwear that she needed a new chest of drawers to house them all, carefully sorted and grouped together and some still in their packets. She didn't need something big and elaborate - a flat-pack from Ikea would do. As luck would have it, the latest catalogue had just arrived in the post. Alice reached for it, made a choice, and went on-line to place an order.

* * * *

"Well, well, well, look who it is, ordering furniture!"

Alex's delivery runs included weekend work, and his last job on a Saturday was to deliver a cabinet from Ikea to an address in Primrose Hill. He was delighted to become re-acquainted with Doctor Alice Turner at the door of her third floor apartment.

"Gosh!" she exclaimed, "is it you from my lab? What are you doing here?"

"Delivering parcels and packages, Ma'am, if it please you."

It did, but she didn't say so. "You'd better come in with that box, then, and put it..." Alice looked around, "... oh, let's put it where it belongs, in my bedroom." She stopped, a sudden thought coming into her head. "Is that even appropriate?" she wondered out loud, "inviting you into my bedroom?"

"I'd invite you into mine," Alex replied, "if you were mine to invite."

Alice was used to his flirting now and was flattered by the attention; but even so, she wasn't quite sure. So she stood in her living room, ready to bolt if he turned out to be an axe murderer or something like that. But he wasn't, so after a moment or two (looking at his strong back) she felt reassured. Hearing his lazy Australian voice in her own home was different, but when he said, "Okay Doc, where shall I put it?" it all seemed so familiar. She breathed a sigh of relief. This felt right. More than that, she felt... excited. A cautious expectation flickered through her head.

"Over there, I think, don't you? Between the wall and the window. It should fit perfectly."

Alex noted the dimensions on the box, and measured the width with his hands. "Should do, indeed. Do you want me to assemble it for you? You can do it, I'm sure."

"Put tab A into slot B, you mean? It should fit together properly."

"Only if I do it." He winked.

Alice devoured the double entendre and decided, on a whim and reckless with it, to joke back. "Only if I'm here to help you."

She looked up at him from under her hair, appalled at herself but suddenly sure of her audacity.

He grinned at her, loving the way she sneaked her quick looks at him, looks which sometimes turned to longer gazes. "Are you flirting with me, Doc? I thought that was my job."

"Maybe," she replied, amazed that she'd even said it. "Maybe I am."

"It's nice," Alex said, enjoying the attention, and keeping his response simple. "Come on, let's make this thing together."

Only later did Alice ponder just how easily he'd talked himself into her bedroom. It seemed so natural, but then she remembered she'd placed the order on Ikea and there was no way she could have known Alex would deliver it. So it was pure coincidence. Anyway, she'd been the one to invite him into her bedroom. My boudoir, she thought, a lot later.

Alice found a sharp knife and slit along the top of the box, cleanly slicing through the tape. She found the assembly instructions and smoothed them out on the floor.

Alex made a show of studying them before saying, "I usually ignore them, the instructions. Throw them away."

"Oh no, you mustn't do that. There's an order to do things. To get it right."

"It's always tab A into slot B, Doc."

"Oh, listen to you. Doc. Please, call me Alice."

"Sure, Doc." He grinned at her.

"Ooo, you impossible man!"

"Yep." He laughed, then attached the bottom of the cabinet to the back. "There. Lie it on its back."

"And tighten the hex bolt," added Alice.

"I love it when you talk dirty."

"Oh, shush at you. Are you always this wicked?" She held a finger up. "No, don't tell me, I don't want to know."

"Doc, would butter melt?"

And for the first time since she'd known him, Alice looked at Alex straight on without hiding behind her hair or sneaking looks when he wasn't looking. She couldn't hold his gaze long, but in that time she decided.

"I think..." She paused, to be certain. "When you were younger, you'd have been a devil. Those baby blue eyes, that smile."

"Why Miss," he drawled, faking a southern American accent, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"I'm sure you do," she said primly, but inside, butterflies fluttered in her belly. "The sides next," she said, to swiftly change the subject.

Alex smiled, knowing it hadn't changed at all. But he took the side of the cabinet from Alice and laid it down. He was careful not to touch her, but saw a slight colour rise on her cheeks.

"Anyway, Doc," his voice returning to normal. "What's the cabinet for? Special treasures or boring undies?"

"How did you..." Wait, thought Alice, he doesn't know, how could he? But his lucky guess made her bold.

"Both, actually."

"Huh?"

"Yes. Come see."

Alice got up from the floor and went to the wardrobe on the opposite wall. On one shelf, all bunched up, were the autumn and summer colours she favoured, in amongst some satin blacks and one or two pristine whites. Maybe a dozen pairs of underwear, and another dozen still wrapped.

"See? They're my treasures, my collection. The dreamy, sexy girl inside the rather conservative woman. Nobody knows." She looked shyly at Alex, her heart thumping, her insides all a quiver. "Only you do, now. You know."

"Alice, they're lovely. Really pretty, and I can see your favourite colours. You're all autumnal, at the end of high summer."

Alex looked at her with a new appreciation. He'd been quite taken by Alice the first day they'd met, and he'd enjoyed their gentle flirting over summer, but this was so unexpected.

"Tell me," he said, meaning show me, "what you've got on right now." His voice softened, but he was standing quite close to her so she heard his yearning. She turned to him.

Alice was wearing a pair of fleeced track pants and a soft top as warmth against the cooler autumn nights. Her figure was hidden within the shapeless garments, but to Alex's eye she looked comfortable, relaxed. Her hair was pulled back with a plain black band into a single pony tail, and without make-up she looked younger.

She looked down, then glanced up at him to see if he was serious. He'd just called her Alice, not Doc, and...

"I'm... I'm not sure about this, if I should or not, because what would my mother think? But..."

Alice pulled the top swiftly up over head to reveal a tight fitting silk camisole, the high blue sky of summer. She was small breasted, but the garment was clingy and flattering, revealing the sweet curves of her breasts, tipped with tight nipples.

"Don't look," she said, contradicting her actions but really wanting Alex to look at her aroused flesh. She felt sexy, but innocent too.

"I'm not," he lied, blatantly gazing at Alice's slim, enticingly clad figure. "Your cami, it looks so soft. It must feel wonderful against your skin."