2020-06-02 - Whispers - Natalie and Marcus

*****WARNING*****This blog post contains graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.



Natalie considers Marcus with an unreadable expression for a near full minute. Then she just leans in and whispers something in his ear before clearing her throat and quietly standing up to walk away.

She had whispered this “Come join me for a drink in my room. But leave10 minutes after I walk away please. I like you. But I don’t like the idle gossip that will sully that for either of us.”

Marcus didn’t even nod when Natalie whispered in his ear.  He stayed on the bench, watching the workers begin to clean the park up and the last of the protesters heading to their Alexandra homes or to the Ferry and the mainland beyond.  Ten minutes later, when the park was empty of nearly all locals, he stood and very casually walked into the Parthenon.  He went straight to the stairs and started up them without so much as a glance at the desk clerk, who was on the phone and not paying the slightest attention to anything.  Turning right at the top of the stairs, he moved to Room 2 and knocked, softly.

Natalie was waiting for the knock and padded to the door, now in her bare feet. She was still half in her work suit but now without the jacket and the blouse was a little more open and untucked with two buttons undone from the top. She still had on her standard black dress pants. She opened the door and just looked at Marcus, almost shyly for a second before stepping back to let him step in “Thank you for your well timed delay.”

Marcus walked in, closed and locked the door behind him and slipped off his shoes.  In them, his feet were bare.  As he’d been off duty, he’d chosen cargo shorts and a black tshirt.  No design was on it.  That wasn’t his style.  He’d only worn his APD windbreaker, which he slipped out of as he walked in and folded over his forearm.  He approaches her and glances down at her, but not from a massive height.  “You’re welcome.  I don’t want the gossip either.”  His dark eyes search her face, although for a moment they scan her body, but it is impossible by his expression if he's simply making notes, or checking her out.  But that moment passes and he searches her face again.

Natalie feels him step in close and feels her heart beat faster. She can feel his eyes searching her face and she locks her gaze on him and then timidly she reaches out her hand towards his face, letting her thumb make contact with the side of his lips and then drag slowly to his cheek if it’s allowed.

Marcus smiles very slightly as her hand touches his face and her thump runs across his full lip.  When she touches his cheek, he turns his head and kisses her hand, then turns again to face her. Moving his hand, he mirrors her movement with his hand on her face this time, then leans in to kiss her, if allowed.

Natalie closes her eyes for a moment at the contact of his touch. She copies Marcus and kisses at his hand and then when he leans in to kiss her she meets his kiss and her arms slide around his neck as she steps in more to fully lean into him.

Marcus is a good kisser and enjoys it for several long seconds.  He breaks it and murmurs her name.  “Natalie.”  he kisses her again and breaks it again, turning his head in the opposite direction.  “I want you.”  he tells her and kisses her again.  “And now it's all I want.  No plan …”  he kisses her yet again.  “Just us.”  his words are as succent as ever.  Straight with her .. straight to the point.

Natalie gets weak in the knees at his kissing and then feels herself buckle further at his words and further kisses. She kisses back each time with a little more passion. When he fully makes his point she tries something that will either work or be a terrible accident. She hangs on tighter to Marcus’s shoulders and vaults herself up off the floor, if she can pull it off and he moves with it she’ll land on him, wrapping her legs around his hips, her arms tightly around his neck and kissing relentlessly. She’s a good kisser but it takes her a while to warm up to it.

Marcus drops his windbreaker and almost fumbles her when she leaps into his arms and wraps her legs around him.  He hefts her up a bit and is able to hold her securely.  He can feel her kisses warm and he begins to walk into the room.  He nozzles her neck in order to take a peek around and finds the bed.  He kneels, setting her on it and, still on his knees, he breaks their kissing long enough for him to shed his tshirt, revealing a well muscled and almost barrel chest.  His build is fit and compact.  Going back to kissing her, he begins to take off her blouse.

Natalie smiles into their kisses as he doesn’t drop her. She gasps a bit as he hefts her up, feeling his strength. He walks with her. She suspected he was strong enough but she’s no waif so she is slightly impressed. She’s not what you’d call heavy but she had definite curves, sort of a Marilyn Monroe body type. When she’s set on the bed and he takes off his shirt she bites her lip and watches, drinking in his naked chest. Marcus was truly a beautiful man. She kisses him back and feels him working through the buttons on her blouse and feels it open and get tugged off. Her bra is a light lavender colored lace one that flatters her full breasts. The blouse hits the floor and Natalie runs her fingers over his chest and back, enjoying the feeling of his skin,

Marcus grins when he sees her bra.  In many ways he is not surprised that it is not a utilitarian thing, as the outer clothes might suggest.  He kisses her again, working to get it off and on the floor with the shirt, then backs up and, as she caresses his chest begins to work on her slacks and any panties she has on under them.  He wants to see her naked.  Half naked, she has him half breathless and if he's allowed to peel away those two layers, he will gaze on her and just drink the sight in.

Natalie kisses him deeply and then lets Marcus take off her panties and pants after the bra. The panties are the same lacey lavender as they flash a little inside the pants. She’s naked now before him like a shapely artist’s model. Her breasts and hips are full and she has a tattoo on her right upper thigh into the hip, a rather large and colourful tattoo of an almost fairytale esque garden scene with vines and flowers and little birds flying around. She’s natural in her grooming with her black pubic hair a dark contrast to her otherwise pale skin.

Marcus gasps audibly looking at her naked body.  He takes in her tattoo for an especially long time before he kisses it.  Then he scoots back on his knees and offers her both of his hands and encourages her to stand.  If she does he will move his knees between her feet, urging her to spread them.  Should she comply he will look up her body.  “Beautiful…”  he breathes, placing one hand on her tattoo at the hip and using the other to part the hair between her legs. Tilting his head back a bit he inhales deeply and kisses the mound.  “You are a woman who loves her control, Natalie.”  he murmurs, his voice rumbling with his desire.  “Tell me what to do, and I will do it.”  his breath is warm on her most secret and sacred body parts.

Natalie gives a breathy little laugh at his reaction to her body. She was confident enough now in her life to not be self conscious when a partner looked at her. She runs her hands over his hair when he kisses her tattoo and then lets him pull her to standing and will move her feet apart thinking she knows he’s about to dive in on her with his tongue. But he moves slow and keeps talking to her. Beautiful and intelligent. A rare find in her life. He kisses her mound and then wants her to tell him what to do. His breath between her legs makes her feel like she might be already dripping for his touch. Now she thinks “Throw me down on the bed….and get between my legs up there….make me cum Marcus…” She murmurs to him.

Marcus gives her a half a smile and a tilted head as she gives her orders.  His reply is to put both of his hands on her waist and lift her, tossing her back onto the bed.  She may even bounce once but in that one bounce he is on the bed, shouldering her legs open.  Without a word, he pards the hair of her treasure, takes a look at her clit and licks her firmly.  Confidently.  He turns his head and slides his tongue inside of her, then lupus it out and along her clit again, watching her .. and not caring if she knows he is watching her this time.

Natalie gives a surprising little squeal as she’s thrown, it’s a little playful sounding. He moves swiftly to her and in no time his tongue is on her clit. She presses into it with a little moan. When he slides it inside her she shudders and grabs his hair, a little roughly. Then she looks down and sees him looking up at her. It's so hot.

Marcus sees her watching him watching her and presses his tongue into her clit, moving his head around a bit moving his tongue in slow circles.  His dark eyes twinkle almost mischievously as the slow circles keep that slow pace. 

Natalie moans and writhes lifting her hips a bit, pressing into his circles, opening to him so he can take her there. “Marcus…” She whispers.

Marcus is still looking at her.  Hearing his name.  But he doesn’t increase his pace.  She may cum even with the slow pace, or she may not.  But he keeps that slow, steady pressure  on her beautiful, hot and wet clit showing no signs of speeding up whatsoever.

Natalie starts pushing back on him harder, her legs shaking as she does start to cum. She loves what he’s doing but she wants more, more of him. In almost a frenzy she tries to pull him up “Marcus….oh fuck please..: She smacks her hand at the side table “Condoms in there…” She had a few tucked in her toiletries but she wasn’t sure how thorough his search was. She had moved them to the dresser after she invited him up for the drink.

Marcus rides her orgasm until she grabs at him.  He moves up, kissing a breast, but then backing off of the bed and standing at its foot.  Still in his cargo shorts, he is clearly erect.  Going into a side pocket, he pulls out his wallet.  “I got this.”  he pulls out a condom and drops it on the bedspread, then unbuttons then unzips his shorts and, hooking his boxer briefs, pulls both down at the same time, exposing his erection.  He takes the condom and opens the package.  “How much control do you want, Natalie?”  he asks as he puts the condom on.  “You on top of me … or me on top of you?”  he rolls it down securing it at the base as he waits for her reply.

Natalie takes in the sight of him naked and erect with a little sigh of delight “Oh god Marcus..” Seh exclaims and then listens to his question as he puts the condom on “I want to be on top of you…” She scoots over so he has room to lie down.

Marcus licks his lip and nods.  Soundlessly, he lays beside her on his back.  “I’m yours.”  are the only words he speaks.

Natalie grins at him and then kisses him for a while, tasting herself, the pleasure he gave her before she kisses his neck and his chest as she slowly straddles him. She takes him in her hand and rubs up and down a little, teasing him a bit, not that his body seems to need encouragement. She aims his into her and then begins to ease him all the way in, rolling her hips forwards and back as she sits up on him. She takes his hand and places his thumb right one her clit and then begins to move on him.

Marcus can feel her touch, but he can’t get harder.  As she begins to lower herself on him, he hisses a bit but doesn’t speak.  When she moves his hand he doesn't resist … but he also doesn't move his thumb.  She’s a woman he believes that needs control.  He presses in not painfully hard but not just resting it on her clit and lets her rub her clit with his thumb at her speed and pace.  But his hips rist to meet her, his breath coming out in less moan and more ecstatic sigh.

Natalie feels her pleasure building again almost instantly. Marcus fills her up, hitting all the right places. She speeds up a bit and as they move together she starts to moan again. As she hits another edge she squeezes on Marcus without meaning to.

Marcus’s jaw drops and his breathing becomes heavier and louder as she moves faster.  He can feel her squeezing and his eyes flutter.  “Are you trying to make me cum, Natalie?”  he nearly groans.  He’s already fighting it.  She feels incredible around him.  But he is also good at resisting if he puts his mind to it … and right now he is resisting hard.

Natalie gives a breathy laugh between her own moans at Marcus’s query “Is that a trick question? Eventually yes….but give me a few…” She communicates clearly as things keep building from the plain she’s on now. She’s panting now and thrusting and sliding on him. Natalie leans forward a little to put her hands down on either side of him and add to her own momentum, gripping the sheets in her fists as she hits another heighted edge. “Oh….Marcus…” She cries out and then starts to shudder. She begins to orgasm again and this time squeezes him on purpose. This time she is trying for sure and she tells him “Now Marcus…..”

Fighting orgasm was an interesting pastime and while Marcus moved under Natalie, he realized that as his deep quiet breathing gave way to long pleasurable groans.  Watching her over him, even as she leaned over him, makes it a bit harder to keep the ebb and flow of his own orgasm at bay.  Yet, he expects he won't be able to cum when she wants, not that he knows when the hell that will be.  He’s in ecstasy in any event.  It is a moment of flow and not ebb when she cums again … squeezes him again … speaks his name … speaks something like an order and he jerks in surprise as the ebb does a complete reversal.  Marcus grabs her hips.  “Natalie … god …” and begins to cum, throwing his head back into the mattress, dropping his jaw and groaning, although not over loudly.  His hips pump twice more as he emoties and he moves his hands from her hips, over her ass to her back, sliding them up and pulling her down into a breathless kiss as he throbs with aftershocks.

Marcus’s perfect timing and the force and energy of his own orgasm heightens Natalie’s as she rides it out. His voice saying her name, his grip on her hips. She cries out in a sort of primal sob at her peak and then pants as he pulls her down and kisses her. She kisses back with her heart now pounding into his chest and one hand coming up to gently trace along the side of his cheek into the edge of his hair.

Reaching up and running his hand through her short hair, he breaks the kiss and bites his lip.  For a long time he either kisses her or looks into her eyes.  But finally he speaks, panting only slightly as his own breath returns to normal.  “That was ….”  he shakes his head in disbelief.  “Mind blowing … and not at all what I was thinking when you asked me if it’s all some grand universal plan.”

Natalie watches him after he breaks the kiss, just enjoying his presence. She smiles when he says mind blowing and nods in agreement “Yes it was.” She’s wanting to shift to lie beside him so she takes the initiative and slides her hand down to the base of him and holds her fingers around the condom to safely dismount. “I assure you my grand universal plan did not involve this when I came to this island but I’m not unhappy with the outcome at all.” She settles in beside Marcus now lying on her left side with her tattooed hip facing up and her right leg sliding over him as she also snuggles into him with her right arm going across his belly and chest.


Marcus nods and enjoys how she gets comfortable on and around him.  “Of course it wasn’t.  And I am very happy with the outcome and would like it to happen again … maybe after you get Kira out of jail … and I know you’ll get Kira out of jail.  After that, but before you then leave to return to Vancouver and your practice, never to see me again.”

Natalie blows out a breath and then laughs “Never to see you again? Wham bam thank you Marcus?” She jokes “There IS a ferry you know. But you’re right in assuming I don’t want this connection to bleed into my work with Kira….or yours. So if we do wish to revisit it, we’ll have to compartmentalize. I mean we’ve known each other for a matter of days so I think we should be capable of such things.”

Marcus listens as she speaks, but also scans the room.  Grinning, he tells her.  “Well I HAVE been found, fucked and forgotten before now.  And found fucked and forgotten in my turn.”  he admits.  “But I’m glad you remembered the ferry without my prompting.  It means neither one of us will be a one night stand to the other.”  He spots the trash can, takes the condom off and tosses it in.  Not nothing but bag, but not a miss either.  Pulling her closer, he chuckles.  “I don’t want to distract you from helping Kira, but I doubt I could even if I was unprofessional enough to TRY and distract you from her.  Kira’s the priority, not me.”  he inhales and exhales.  “You know you might not even get her released on bail for at least a couple of weeks, right?  Or rather … you probably shouldn’t…”  not the sexiest pillow talk but … he knows that she is passionate about Kira’s case … he saw that passion rise with his own eyes only the day before.

Natalie hears Marcus say he’s been fucked around and forgotten before and sighs “I used to make people feel fucked around and forgotten. It wasn’t intentional. I pushed a lot of people away to protect myself. I’m working on that but better than I used to be…” She admits. She observes him dealing with the condom and listens to what he says about Kira. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about her. The bail thing is frustrating me. I don’t love her living in a jail cell. As far as I can tell this town doesn’t have a halfway house or a women’s shelter of any kind. I’ve had clients with complicated legal histories before, addicts, prostitutes. I know she hits all those notes. I don’t want her to relapse into patterns of behaviour that undermine her progress. Is that what you mean?”

Marcus pulls her a little closer to him and puts his hand on her tattoo, stroking it.  “A couple of works in progress.”  he murmurs and then sighs.  “Alexandra doesn’t really need one.  I can think of ten people just off the top of my head that would take Kira in, including me.  The thing is mostly not wanting to crush her spirit … she’s proud, despite her nearly whoring herself out.  You’ve seen her house.  You know what it's like.  But she never slept on the street.  Plus, I think she feels safe in her cell, at least for now.  Some of her regulars live here on the island and avoiding them would be impossible.  I’ve considered …”  he pauses a beat.  “Talking to them.  A restraining order might ork, but I honestly doubt it.  But.”  he lifts one finger in the hand on her hip.  “Her house cleaning shouldn’t take more than a week to ten days and I saw O.J White and Leon Black in Perk talking to Mint Portia last weekend.  I don’t know any of them but by name and reputation, but it suggests a collaboration.”  he pauses and won’t play a version of the pronoun game, making her ask who these people are.  He hates that game himself, so won’t subject her to it.  “O.J White and Leon Black own and operate a company called SGTI .. it’s an acronym for Someone’s Got To do It.  That’s who is going to be doing the deep cleaning in Kira’s house.  They mostly do crime scenes and, when Covid was on the island, Covid cleaning.”  he taps absently at the tattoo on her hip.  “Mint Portia is an architect.  Before the island was cut off, he was here overseeing the building of a bunch of tiny homes.  Now I don’t know exactly what he’s settling into, but if I had to guess, I’d say the plan is to not just clean the place and hand it over, but to renovate it, as well.  All bought and paid for with the proceeds of the fundraiser on Saturday.”

Natalie tunes into his words and admires his compassion but gives him some advice “Never host a client in your home. I know you mean well but there’s no faster way to compromise your work. Kira has more integrity than some of my past clients. I made that mistake once before. A young woman who was trafficked…...she had nowhere to go after bail so I took her in. She racked up my credit card, emptied my liquor cabinet and tried to seduce me. I have since put one or two up in a motel, but never again hosted.” She looks fascinated by the description of the cleaners and their company as well as the details of the architect “His first name is Mint?” She has to smile. Marcus is talking a lot but she doesn’t mind. It all has substance. He has substance. “I am interested in trying to protect Kira with some restraining orders if we can process them. Again those patterns can be hard to break, especially if her mental health dips. She’s been taken advantage of enough for one lifetime. I may risk another tour of that house when it’s safer.”

Marcus nods at the advice.  “That’s why Kira isn’t in my apartment wondering where the fuck I am at eight at night.”  he tells her, taking a stab in the dark about the time.  “I bailed a … friend .. out once.  Heroin addict.  She cleaned out my apartment three days later and OD’d before she could even skip bail right.”  he sighs and then chuckles about Mint.  “There has to be a story there, for sure.”  then he begins to nod.  “The cops do the process serving and I’d probably be the one assigned to process any restraining orders.”  he tells her without explaining why it would be him, specifically.  “I was thinking you would.  You know we have N95 respirators, if you need one.  My guess is you want to see it before they make the place all shiny and new.  See it the way she lived in it.”

She nods along about the story of the friend he bailed out and his common experience with her. Something hardens in her face and she comments on the restraining order topic “I know the process of obtaining a restraining order...I know it well actually.” As she says this her middle finger on her right hand presses into the center of her palm again and her jaw clenches for the briefest second as she presses her nail into the small callous in her palm. It’s subtle, almost instinctual now. And then she moves on from it. “ In my work now I sometimes like those particular types of assholes to know what awaits them beyond that piece of paper if they violate the order….they need to know they’re being watched on more than one level. I can’t always ride along in Vancouver...too big, too many politics between lawyers and cops. But perhaps I can convince your Chief to allow it here.” She nods about wanting to see the house “I need pictures to bolster my mental incapacity approach. Her recent shift to becoming articulate is fantastic but I’m really going to need to show her history.” She sighs “I’d like to think my asthma is not so completely debilitating. It was really the mold. Mold, smoke, high pollen counts some years. Those are my triggers. If they can clean the mold I should be able to go in there.” Natalie’s stomach growls and she pats it “You know we seem to have skipped our drink...and I suspect neither of us has eaten dinner. Can I fix you a cocktail and order us something up from the restaurant?”

Marcus was observant before he was trained by the police to observe.  He notices her face harden and her reaction to the restraining order topic.  His eyes appear to be on her hip tattoo, but he can see her pressing her nail into her palm.  But he doesn’t mention it, partly because he reacts to her request to ride along on the process serving.  “Vancouver politics.”  his voice is slightly deeper, but otherwise normal.  “Chief Greene’ll approve it.  Trust me.”  he hears her words about why she needs the pictures.  And adds.  “And the evidence photos don't cut it.”  it isn’t a question, it’s a statement.  He half grins when her stomach growls.  “I haven’t eaten.”  he tells her.  “You’re not a meal, but I know I definitely want that again.”  he begins to move, clearly reluctantly.  “You can.  I’d like that.”  he sighs like he doesn't want to move.  Room service means clothes.”  it's almost a mock whine.  “At least my shorts…”  he kisses her softly and then sits up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and looking for his shorts.  His back has several keloid scars on it.  On his right shoulder blade is what Natalie might recognize as a taser scar.  There’s another like it but from another angle on his left lower back, above the belt line.  Lastly, diagonally across his wide back is a long scar as if from a whip or something.

Natalie hears him parrot back her words about politics, figuring his work in Vancouver made him very aware of all the bureaucratic bullshit. She looks pleased about his assessment of Chief Greene’s support. She has to giggle about his naughty little comment about her. She wants that again too but right now her hunger for food is winning over the thought of another romp together. “You could hide under the covers?” She teases and then kisses him back. She was comfortable as well but then he moves and she sits up with him, behind him a bit and freezes at the sight of the scars on his back. Quietly she slides forward a bit, sitting beside him and runs her hand over his back, tracing them with a mix of kindness and disbelief at what she’s seeing. She distinctly recognizes the taser marks. She’s presented pictures of those as evidence in a case where a young woman was raped related to police brutality towards Indigenous women. Natalie isn’t going to press Marcus to talk but to let him know she feels anguish about what he’s endured she leans her head over and kisses at the more central whip like scar as she gravely begins to suspect that today’s protest was very personal for him.

Marcus chuckles about the idea he could hide under the covers.  “If you want, I could hide in the bathroom, too.  That’d hide me better than the covers if you really want me out of sight.”  he wouldn’t be offended if she did.  While there isn’t anything illegal about their rendezvous, he was still a private man.  He feels her hands and then her lips on his back.  On his scar.  He glances back at her.  “There’s a reason I was a White Rock cop and not Vancouver where I was born and raised.”  he turns his head more to look at her.  “You….  I’ll tell … if you’d like the story.”  and he takes her hand .. the one with her own scar on it .. and kisses her, deeply, as if bolstering himself a bit.  This clearly is not an offer he makes to just anyone … possibly to no one before her.

Natalie kisses him back feeling a jolt between them as he holds the hand that she presses her nail into to cope with her own trauma. Now he’s offering to share his, an honour she won’t take for granted. She eventually breaks the kiss and looks him in the eyes “I don’t want to hide you Marcus. I have no shame about this or you in my bed. But I will dress as well so we’re more appropriate to open the door shortly.” She offers another small kiss before saying “You’re telling of your story is not about what I would like,,,but about what you need. If it helps you, then tell me. I’ll listen and support you.”

Marcus smiles softly.  It actually means a lot that she doesn’t want to hide him.  He kisses her again.  “Fair.”  he says to her dressing also.  “But no promise I won't try and revert after dinner and a drink.”  he pauses and caresses the hand in his, not saying anything about the scar yet.  It feels a little new on that front.  But if she lets him in her life more, he’ll address it.  As far as his story, he tells her.  “It’s both.”  he tells her.  “I can’t explain it, because it doesn’t make sense to me yet, but it’s both.”  and it's true.  He can’t explain his desire to share this with her … but it's a need.  “Order us dinner and let me sip a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.”  He finally stands and moves first to the bathroom to wash his face.  The juices from his eating her out have dried to a white substance on his dark skin.  Then he moves to the foot of the bed, finding his shorts and boxer briefs.  After a moment's consideration, he tosses his underwear out of sight of the small hallway entrance and slips into his cargo shorts.  Another sign that he doesn’t plan on leaving yet.

She looks vulnerable as he kisses her and caresses her hand and she listens to him. It’s unexplainable how she became so connected to this man she just met but it’s strangely compelling. Natalie observes his rejection of underwear and just gives a tiny eyebrow raise and shrugs it off. To each their own. She puts her own underwear and bra back on but scoops up her work clothes and lays them over a chair. She’s shopped a bit on a lunch break and picked up a few casual clothes from a local place so she goes to the dresser and puts on not business clothes but a loose billowy flowered sleeveless top and a pair of beige cotton capri pants. She picks up the Zabat’s menu from the desk “What do you like Marcus? I was just going to do a souvlaki option with lemon potatoes. Should I make it two or do you have another favourite?” She leaves the offer hanging out there and opens the mini fridge. On top of it is the bottle of gin she came with but it’s almost half way down in volume. “And what do you drink? There’s wine, coolers, a few beers? I have tonic and limes if you want a gin and tonic?”

Marcus watches her dress casually and grins.  “Make it two.”  He tells her about the souvlaki and lemon potatoes.  When she opens the fridge, he looks inside with her, noting the full sized bottle of gin and remembering it from his search of her luggage when she arrived.  It screamed a fact at him, but he shows no more reaction to it now than when he first saw it the day before.  “Half a gin and tonic with plenty of lime.”  he orders.  He’s not much of a drinker.  It was, oddly, a little refreshing to see that in some areas they seemed polar opposites.

Natalie quickly calls in the food order and then takes two hotel glasses and fills them with ice. She cuts the limes expertly with a useless looking serrated plastic take out food knife and squeezes them before tossing one half in hers and two in Marcus’s. She pours the gin without a measure and is a bit heavy handed. Marcus’s is about a shot and a half’s worth but hers is more like a triple. Nonchalantly she pours in the tonic, and then puts things back in the fridge and hands him his drink. “Cheers.” She says and offers to toast him before gesturing to the two easy chairs past the desk for them to sit and talk.

Marcus watches her order and prepare the drinks.  He takes his and taps his glass to hers.  “To opening up.”  he moves to one of the easy chairs and sits, then downs about half of his drink right away.  Then he sits, blows out a breath and warns her.  “This might get a little rambly.  I’ll try not to talk too much.”  and then, fingering the rim of his glass, he begins with.  “I grew up in a place called the Devil's Kitchen.  You’ve handled a lot of rape cases, so you probably know it.  The whole place is bad juju.  But I was a pretty good kid with good grades.  I wasn't valedictorian, but I was in the number two space.  Salutatorian..”  he licks his lips.  “When I was sixteen, I wwent with my best friend .. the one who wound up committing suicide … to the store.  He wanted to buy some cigarettes, but wound up shoplifting a candy bar.  We ran into the cops right out front just as the cashier started yelling about shoplifters.  Mike and I cooperated.  Up against the wall and spread em sort of thing.  Then Mike .. idiot .. tried to rabbit.  By then they had back up.  Two of the cops caught him before he got three steps, and started just wailing on him.  I shouted at them to stop and the other two tazed me…”  he lifts his hand to the scar on his shoulder.  “Ultimately they let me go and arrested Mike.  And no, I didn’t press charges, file a complaint, sue or anything.  Even then, I knew that a black man …  no .. isn't happening.  I just got sort of angry.  Same old shit.”  he takes a miniscule sip of his drink.  “The long one I got just after I graduated from high school, but before college.  I got pulled over for a broken tail light and I’ll admit to mouthing off to the officer.  I got out of the car fine, but when he wanted me to move away so he could search my car, I told him that was illegal…”  he shrugged.  “Then I was on the ground and he was beating me.  I’d just picked up a length of rope to help my mother ith some shit .. I can’t even remember what it was now.  But it was in the front seat and the cop beat me with it.  Cut my short open and cut my back open.  Then he literally tossed the citation for the broken taillight on me and left.”  he takes another small sip.  “And again .. what the fuck was I gonna do?  Eighteen year old black man?  Day in the life.”  he clears his throat and gets to the last of the scars.  Sliding his hand to the small of his back he rubs at it.  “This one …”  his jaw tightens.  “I was in school and a rookie in White Rock, but in Vancouver to visit my mother.  This was maybe ten years ago?  Yea I was 23.  Middle of summer.  Hot as hell in the Devil’s Kitchen.  I didn’t even have a shirt on.  Anyway …  I stopped at the liquor mart for a six pack and two black men come running out of the store.  One of them was armed.  They’d just robbed the place.  I turn around just in time for Vancouver’s finest to roll up on us.  The brutha that was armed dropped his gun, and all THREE of us raised our hands.  Me included.  Armed robbery?  I wasn’t tryin to get shot.”  he scoffs and takes another small sip.  “They were on us … ten cops.  I tried to identify myself as a police officer before and while they were handcuffing me, but … they called me a liar and tazed me … bare skin.” he sighs.  “They didn’t bother to check my ID until they were processing me.”  he snorts a laugh. “My superiors called their superiors who called their superiors and I got a less than heartfelt apology and a suggestion that I identify myself sooner.”  he kills his drink and looks at her, watching her face.  “And that’s my story.  But the badge seems to have stopped the bullshit.  I haven’t been brutalized by my brother and sister officers since.”

Natalie listened intently to all of the atrocities. Her face went from anguish to anger to shock many times over as he spoke. She slowly downed her drink as the tales unfolded, each more horrible than the last. Finally she set down the glass on the table between the chairs as he finished and since the chairs weren’t really that far apart, tried to reach for his hand and hold it “Fuck Marcus...I’m so sorry. Sorry seems inadequate. I can’t believe you had to go through that...and that many times. You know we bullshit ourselves here in Canada that we’re all above racism…..but we’re clearly not. Your experience. All those names today at the protest. I can’t really even speak to it….but I am sorry and I will always try to speak out against it given the opportunity.”

Marcus feels her take his hand and he squeezes it.  “Day in the life, but I identified myself every time I got pulled over since then, trust and believe that shit.”  he sighs.  “I’m half and half.  Black and Indiginous.  I can’t win, but you get used to it.  Shouldn't have to, but you do.”  he leans over and kisses her hand.  “And talking about it helps.  Who knew?  I never have before … not in an unofficial capacity.”  he rubs her hand.  “And I know you do.  You feel the pain.  I Googled you and if I’m not going to be highly efficient at fucking with a plan, I need to start by being honest with you on every conceivable level.”  he kisses her hand again.  “I don’t know what we are, but I want more of it.”  he looks into her eyes … and then a knock sounds at the door. 

Natalie looks at him with kindness and sorrow. The hand he’s holding and kisses is her right. For some reason he keeps ending up with it, the hand with the callous scar, like she’s giving him a direct line to her buried places and scars that aren’t on the surface except the small callous one. “You’ve never talked to anyone about this?” She seems surprised because it’s fucking huge. And then she freezes a bit when he admits he Googled her. She lets out an audible sigh. She did give permission for her name to be public to help other victims come forward and help women she advocates for. But men didn’t usually bother to look her up unless she was trying to put them behind bars. She feels the next kiss on her hand and meets his gaze looking a little apprehensive. She wants more of it too but this moment is confronting. She jumps up at the knock at the door withdrawing her hand and letting her fingernail of her middle finger press hard into the palm. “Food.” She tries to say casually as she fumbles for her purse hanging over the desk chair. Why was this man making her feel so unhinged?

Marcus sees her apprehension.  It’s slight, but it's there.  He’s grateful for the timely knock and when she stands, he does as well, keeping to the discretion and moving back to sit on the foot of the bed.  Obviously someone was here, as she’d ordered two meals, but whoever delivered the means didn’t need to know who was dining with the woman in Room 2.  As he hears the voice of none other than Christophorous Zabat himself, offering her meals in his thick Greek accent, he wonders at how powerful his feelings are. How much he wants this woman.  And he wonders if it has something to do with this island.  His research into Alexandra never really explored emotions.  It was the physical and the possibly metaphysical but he wondered; what if Alexandra heightened emotions in people as well.

Natalie keeps the interaction with Christophous over the payment brief and polite. She thanks him after tapping her card. Then she closes and locks the door, brings the food in and sets it down on the coffee table, separating out the containers, forks and napkins to make places in front of both chairs to eat. She looks at Marcus and then his now empty chair “You’re clearly adept at surveillance and stealth.” She comments. “Come join me.” She opens her container and picks up her own fork.

Marcus chuckles.  “I’m an officer here because they have enough detectives, but that was my rank in White Rock before I moved here.”  he joins her and picks up his fork.  They eat with few words, and after they’ve eaten. Marcus stays for another couple of hours, tasting her, teasing her, enjoying her company.  He leaves after midnight unseen and, in the morning, is not remotely hurt or insulted that their relationship seems to be exactly where they left it when they worked together the day before, as if their hours together had never happened.  That was their professionalism.