Author: A Markov
Title: Out of Sight, Out of Mind
Summary: Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier.
Warning: This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.
Disclaimer: The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything.
Chapter 12: Dealer's Choice
The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the penthouse apartment. Violet's eyes snapped open and she glanced around quickly. She'd dozed off again. Chi was still curled against her, her breathing regular and deep. If she didn't wake the blonde soon, she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Thinking on it, Violet wasn't so sure about that. Chi had slept eighteen hours yesterday, then nodded off again after a light breakfast. She'd had a brief spurt of energy in the morning, catching up with her office but then she'd curled up with Violet and had been dozing most of the day. Chi's fatigue meant that Violet hadn't been able to put her plan into effect but she'd managed to keep her disappointment in check. As the sun sank behind the Metroville skyline, Violet thought it over and decided that Chi had probably rested enough for what she had in mind.
Cautiously, and as slowly as she could, Violet began to extricate herself from the bed. She really didn't want Chi to wake up before she was ready. She had to pause every time Chi moved or changed her breathing pattern and getting out of bed took her nearly ten minutes. Finally, Violet slid off the bed, and made her way silently out of the bedroom and down the hall to the guest bath. After a quick, but thorough, shower, she brushed her teeth and slipped on a pair of light blue cotton panties and simple singlet. She had considered wearing something frilly or lacy but ultimately decided that this moment was going to be about her and Chi and not about what the editors of the Victoria's Secret ads thought was sexy. Her heart was beating in her chest like a drum. Taking a deep breath, she stopped in front of the mirror and looked herself in the eyes. Was she ready for this?
She closed her eyes and thought about what she was planning. Her mouth was dry, her hands were trembling just a little, there were butterflies in her stomach and she could feel the stirrings of something else a little further down. Oh, wow! She wasn't just ready; she was READY. She was all worked-up and wondering why she was spending this much time wondering about it. Chi probably wouldn't mind if she ran down the hall and jumped into the bed with a rebel yell but that wasn't The Plan. She forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths and let them out slowly. She was going to stick to The Plan. As plans went, it was simple: This evening, her girlfriend would wake-up to the feeling of someone making love to her. The Plan probably didn't deserve to be capitalized, but it was her first big plan, so she guessed that made it special.
Chi had initiated and made love to her a few times since they'd come back from San Diego but she'd always been shy about reciprocating. She'd made excuses to herself about being inexperienced and not knowing if she could make the older woman feel as good as she made her feel. But the time for that was past. Chi needed her, needed to know that Violet was committed to her physically as well as emotionally. She wanted Chi to know it too and the idea of giving herself to her lover, of being the aggressor and making love to Chi the way Chi had made love to her was getting her excited on a whole new level. Before she headed back to the bedroom, she applied a couple of drops of Chi's favorite perfume. One more deep breath and it was time.
She forced herself to walk slowly back to Chi instead of running. At the door, she paused for a couple more deep breaths and to sneak a peek into the room. Chi was curled up on her left side, just as she had been when Violet sneaked out. For a minute, Violet considered waiting until Chi woke up but shook her head. She wanted Chi to know that this was completely her choice, her desire without any prompting or expectations. She thought back to the first night that she and Chi had shared the apartment and the disastrous morning that followed and steeled herself. The pain of rejection in the blonde's eyes still haunted her. It was time to erase that mistake and let Chi know that she was holding nothing back. She was Chi's and Chi was hers.
Violet took another deep breath, slipped into the room and slowly, ever so slowly, slid onto the bed behind Chi. Controlling her breathing and concentrating on moving very slowly so as not to wake her, Violet moved into position on the outside of the spoon. She slid her left arm under the blonde's neck and contoured her body to fit as closely to Chi's as possible as she gently wrapped her arms around her. Chi murmured something Violet didn't catch and snuggled into her embrace before calming again. Violet took it as a good sign. She was keenly aware of her nipples pressed into Chi's back. Goosebumps of anticipation raised the fine hairs all over her body. She moistened her lips and inhaled Chi's scent. The heat of the blonde's body entered Violet through her breasts and spread through her belly into her groin. Unable to wait any longer, Violet leaned in to taste Chi's neck right where it met her shoulder. Her left arm encircled Chi's chest and tried to pull her even closer. Her right arm slid forward over Chi's waist and she pressed her hand lightly into the blonde's stomach before slowly starting downward.
Violet's lips moved up Chi's neck to her ear and her right hand reached its goal.
Chi clutched her left arm. Her legs parted slightly and she pushed her hips forward into Violet's right hand. "Oh, Vi!"
Joe Bartel tried to match the stoic facial expression of the man facing him across the ancient desk in the cramped office, but knew it was a losing proposition from the beginning. Dicker was famous for his unflappability. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Joe stopped trying to out calm the man and just started wishing for a response. Any response would do. Joe dropped his eyes and glanced around the small office. Dicker had been a part of The Agency since before Joe had been born. He tried to imagine what The Agency would be like without its most senior agent and came up blank.
He'd been mildly surprised to find Dicker calmly sitting in his office. The old man had to know what was going on, why had he stuck around? Dicker hadn't even seemed surprised when Joe showed up and quietly informed him of his situation. He'd just sat there, looking back at him with that famous deadpan expression, making Joe more nervous by the second. After what seemed like an eternity, Dicker gave a little shrug and nodded. Joe watched uncomfortably, still unsure about what was going to happen next, as the old man straightened some papers on his desk, and picked up a small picture frame. He regarded the photo silently for a minute then turned it around so that Joe could see it.
In the photo, Mr. Incredible was shaking hands with a former president and they were both mugging for the camera. Slightly behind them, his face barely visible between their shoulders, a young Rick Dicker stood gazing on impassively.
"I've always done my job, Joe, and I've done a lot of good." Dicker's voice was resigned, almost a sigh. "I guess it had to end sometime."
Joe struggled to find his voice. "It's not… You could…" He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. The words bubbled up inside of him and came out in a rush. "It doesn't make any sense to me, sir. But the evidence all points to…" he trailed off with a shrug, unable and unwilling to say it out loud.
"I'm sure it does, Joe." Dicker came out from behind the desk. "The strange thing about the facts is that sometimes they aren't true." He reached up and gave the younger man a light clout on the shoulder. "And sometimes, the truth isn't factual." They stood facing each other for a minute before Dicker turned away and moved to the door. "Maybe Mark Twain had it right; 'Lies, damn lies and statistics.' Funny thing is; a man who dies for a lie is just as dead as a man who dies for a truth."
Dicker nodded and gave him another clout on the shoulder. "You're a good kid, Joe. You're following orders and your brain is working, I can see it from here."
Dicker raised his hand to cut off the agent's words. When Bartel opened his mouth to speak again, Dicker frowned and shook his head. "Do your job, Joe. Do your job."
Bartel took a deep breath and gestured for the door. "After you, sir."
Dicker smiled and opened the door.
Syndrome checked the soldered connections under the magnifier before plugging the com cable into the port on the side of the modified card. A few strokes of the keyboard and the simulation started. For nearly ten minutes, data streamed across the monitor at a speed that no ordinary human could keep up with. Suddenly the scroll stopped and a blinking cursor appeared in the lower left corner. Syndrome nodded and input a few more keystrokes. The principle was sound but the hardware available was too limiting. It was time to build a real computer.
The director turned away from the observation window and beckoned Dr. Simmons over. "How's our patient doing?"
Simmons consulted his PDA, "Within expected parameters, sir."
"Has she complained about being stuck here?"
"She hasn't really spoken much at all, other than to ask about tools and the history of the objects we've provided for her."
"No ranting about Mr. Incredible? No muttering about world domination?"
"No, sir, she seems content to focus on her projects."
"Her projects?" The director frowned. "What about our projects?"
Simmons tried to find somewhere to look that wasn't at the director. "Well, they've been presented, but they haven't really engaged her… sir."
The director turned back to the observation window and watched the red-head for a few minutes in silence. "So… Do we have any clue what she's doing?"
"Ah, the tech guys are trying to keep up." Simmons jumped at the chance to have the director's attention focused elsewhere, "You'd have to ask them how well they're doing."
The director waved dismissively. "Sorry, Doc. I've got more important things to worry about right now. I'll read their reports later." He reached out to tap the doctor's PDA with his index finger. "However, I do need you to stay on top of her mental condition and inform me immediately if she starts deteriorating."
Simmons glanced down at his hand and over at the console quickly. He licked his lips and tilted his head slightly.
"What?" The director demanded.
"Well, there have been some anomalies…"
"What kind of anomalies, Doctor?"
"It's hard to define, sir."
"Look, Doc," the director huffed, "something is either anomalous, or it's not anomalous. How hard is that to define?"
"Well, sir, I've never had a patient like this before, so…"
The director dropped his head into his hand and massaged his temple for a moment. "You've got her code phrase handy?"
Simmons held up his PDA, "right here, sir." He glanced around nervously, "I'm really not comfortable with all this, sir. I don't have much confidence in the post-hypnotic suggestibility of subjects in general and this subject is out of the ordinary in so many ways…"
The director pursed his lips in disapproval and shook his head. "OK, Doc, let me put it this way. If she starts acting crazy, gas the room and call me; immediately!" With that, the director strode from the room muttering about soft sciences and the soft headed people who practiced them.
Simmons looked out at the cavernous white room full of state of the art machine shop, seemingly endless rows of servers, myriad stainless steel workbenches covered with partially dismantled killer-robots. Along one wall, shelves of electronic devices ranging from hand-held gaming systems to missile guidance computers reached from floor to ceiling. In the middle of it all, the new focus of his research: a red-headed, college-aged girl with the personality of a dead psychotic genius imprinted in her brain, who had momentarily taken a break from building god-only knows-what, in this top-secret government facility so she could set up what looked like a tea party for a Me-pad and a Tinder. Currently she had one in each hand and was dancing happily in a small circle while making them kiss.
Simmons glared at the director's retreating back, "Could you define crazy?" he grumbled.
Chi collapsed back onto the bed too weak to do more than gasp for air and tremble. For a brief moment, she worried that this was Violet's way of saying goodbye but she quickly quashed the thought and focused on the fact that Violet was finally and completely her lover. Whatever lingering doubts had been in the back of her mind had been chased away by Violet's actions today. Chi looked down at her lover. She liked the sound of that and said it once more in her mind; her lover. She smiled. Her lover's head rested on her stomach. Her lover's right arm was trapped under her sweaty body. The fingers of her lover's left hand traced light patterns on her hip and thigh. After she caught her breath, Chi shifted slightly to free Violet's arm and pulled, ineffectually at her.
"Hmmm?" Violet kept her vocalization deep in her throat and the vibrations tickled Chi's hip and stomach.
Chi shivered again and raised her head slightly to glance down at Violet. "Bring your lips up here, Vi. I'm too tired to come get 'em."
Violet grinned and slowly slid downward. Chi grabbed two handfuls of her hair and whispered, "Please, Vi, I want your arms around me again."
Violet gave a playful pout and changed directions. She molded herself to Chi's left side and wrapped her arms and legs around her. "I did good?" Violet's voice was light and teasing but a slight quaver betrayed her insecurity.
Chi wondered how she could have ever doubted that Violet was committed to her. "You did real good."
"You're not just saying that?" Violet sat up a little. "I know I don't know what to do…"
Chi reached up and gently pulled Violet down to her. She rested the girl's head on her shoulder and began stroking her hair. "You made me feel wonderful, Vi, and when I catch my breath, I'm going to do the same for you."
Violet's left hand stroked Chi's shoulder and neck, occasionally tracing lightly down the blonde's ribcage to her stomach. "Chi…?"
"I want this afternoon to be about you." Violet said hesitantly. "I want you to know I love you."
Goosebumps climbed her arm and her heart soared. She tightened her arm around Violet's shoulder, "Vi, love isn't about sex." Chi bent her neck awkwardly and kissed the top of Violet's head.
"I know that." Violet propped herself up on her elbow, so she could look into the blonde's eyes. "But I want to give you… and you don't have to, you know," she looked down, blushing.
"What if I want to?"
Violet worried her lower lip for a moment. "This is about how much I love you and if you… um… I don't want you to… I just want it to be about you."
Chi pulled her lover back down to her and wrapped her arms tightly around the dark-haired girl. "I understand, Vi," she whispered. "Thank you."
Bartel made his way back to his cubicle slowly, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that Agent Dicker had somehow gone rogue. It was beyond his ability. He loosened his tie and sat down at his desk, looking around aimlessly. Trying to find a task to focus on, he absent-mindedly smoothed his jacket and noticed something in the breast pocket. He reached in, pulled out a yellow sticky note. The handwriting was cramped: S:\Department Safety Team\Ergonomic Regulations\Quality Information Systems Database\Statistical Archive. Joe couldn't think of anything he was less interested in at the moment than archived statistics about ergonomic regulations and dropped it into the trashcan. It had barely left his fingers when he recognized the handwriting as Dicker's and a couple of things that had been bothering him on a subconscious level popped into the front of his mind.
Do your job.
Dicker had been very specific and, for Dicker, quite adamant about it. Well, he was following orders, wasn't he? But was he doing his job? On the face of it, The Agency existed to coordinate official law enforcement with the talents and actions of the Supers. Underneath that they acted as a shield, a check on the possibility that a Super would abuse their powers and become a menace.
I've always done my job, Joe
The remark about following orders had been a dig. Dicker was telling him that doing his job wasn't the same as following orders. He glanced down at the sticky note in his hand with the network address on it. Dicker didn't use computers. He didn't even have a computer terminal in his office. He was world famous for not using computers. He didn't touch people either, but he'd clouted Joe on the arm twice, probably so he wouldn't notice when the old man was slipping a sticky note into his pocket; a sticky note with a network address. Joe closed his eyes and concentrated. Dicker was suddenly a rogue agent who touched people, smiled and slipped file paths into the pockets of fellow agents? Joe shook his head to clear it. It was complete nonsense.
At the end of the day, his job was to protect people; all people. Supers weren't the only ones who could abuse their power.
Joe pulled the note out of the trash can and reached for his mouse.
Violet kissed Chi lightly on the shoulder and momentarily tightened her arms around the blonde. "I get first crack at the bathroom," she said as she sat up.
Chi pouted, playfully, "I thought you said this afternoon was all about me."
"It was," Violet left a trail of kisses down Chi's arm to the palm of her hand, "but it's evening now." She grasped the hand firmly and took the index finger into her mouth, sucking it gently as she slowly pulled it out of her mouth. Chi shivered. "Besides, while you're cleaning up, I'll be making you dinner." Violet grinned mischievously, "I figured you'd want me to wash up first, but…?"
Chi giggled and tried to pull Violet back into bed with her. Violet pressed her lips to the inside of Chi's wrist, a combination of sucking and nibbling sent more shivers through the blonde's body. She reached up with her left hand to push the hair out of Chi's face. She held onto Chi's left hand and kept her lips pressed against it. Concern darkened her features for a few seconds. "You really over-extended yourself at The Agency. All you've done the past two days is sleep so you're caught up on that, but you need to eat too."
"…half a bagel two pieces of bacon and an egg. That is hardly enough to bring you back up to full strength." Violet clutched Chi's hand to her chest, brought her free hand to her forehead and affected a Southern drawl, "Why, when I think of how you are all tuckered out from a little kissing this afternoon, it gives me such a fright."
Chi silently conceded the point but thinking about it brought a big smile to her face. "That was more than 'a little kissing,' Vi."
"Well, after a healthy dinner, full of restorative nutrients, you might be ready for a little more kissing." Violet wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, then blushed a deep shade of red.
From his vantage point on the deserted top floor of Metroville's tallest parking structure, the director watched the rays of the setting sun glint off the ChiMera Industries building. He heard the rumble of the approaching sedan's big V-8, but continued to stare out at the skyline. He was disappointed but not surprised when he heard two doors opening and the sound of multiple footsteps approaching. "Which part of 'secret' is it that you don't understand, General?"
The sound of footsteps stopped and was replaced by the sounds of murmuring and shuffling feet. The director turned to glare at the tall man in uniform and his cronies. The general gestured and the two lieutenants with him retreated to the utilitarian limousine behind them while he continued forward and joined the director at the handrail. The director was a big man but the general loomed over him. "I'm sorry about the attention you're getting, Jake." The general's voice was deep as you would expect from such a tall man.
The director snorted, "I'm sure you are, but I'm the one sacrificing one of my best men, Bill. Have you figured out how the sleeper program got triggered? We tracked it to the Stavenger base but all your goddamn protocols are interfering with my investigation. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to cover your ass!"
"We've got some really sensitive programs going on. You turn over the wrong rock and both our asses are in a sling before you can turn around."
"Don't give me that shit!" The director threw his hands in the air. "I'm trying to keep these freaks from destroying the world and you're getting in my way because POTUS is getting his winky waxed."
The general frowned and turned away.
"You still don't think we're necessary." The director shook his head and brought his hand down on the railing in front of him. "You still think that you and your boys can handle the Supers and there's no need for us. The Agency is an anachronistic organization manned by dinosaurs." The director waved dismissively. "Tell me, General, how many men do you think it would take to bring down Mr. Incredible?"
"That's not the point."
"Tell that to the Koreans."
The general turned and waved a finger at the director. "The Koreans were underfunded and under-trained. He wouldn't stand a chance against a modern military."
"There were 135,000 of them, Bill. He went through them like a hot knife through butter." The director's eyes bored into the general. "He was restrained by his own ethics and the US Government's objectives. He was trying not to kill anyone and doing his best to keep civilian infrastructure intact and he subdued a nation with an army of 135,000 in less than two weeks." The director turned back to the panoramic view, "What it would be like to face him without those restraints in place?"
"We wouldn't have to face him alone, the other Supers—"
The director's laugh cut him off. "Can you imagine the devastation that would result from that kind of battle? Oh, I forgot. You guys don't encourage imagination."
"I know what a battlefield looks like, and I'm sick and tired of catering to your silly games because you're trying to appease someone who just happens to be really strong."
"He's not just a really strong man, General. He's a man with all the frailties of the human mind and spirit and all the power of a god. What you can't seem to understand is that The Agency is the only thing standing between you and your gods. And your incompetence is destabilizing the only means we have to control them."
"You've always had a huge ego, Jake. Now it sounds like you can add 'Messiah Complex' to it."
"Bottom line, Bill: Your people fucked up and activated the 'Synthdrome Initiative' before it was ready or necessary. Now I've got the goddamned DOD and a Congressional Ethics Committee breathing down my neck while I'm doing my best to make sure that the most powerful Super of the next generation doesn't decide to set herself up as the 'Supreme Goddess of Earth' but I'm having a little difficulty with that because she just found out we've been screwing with her girlfriend's brain." He turned toward the general and began advancing on him slowly. "And do you know how she found out about it? That's right. It's because your people fucked up." The director grimaced. "There'll be a summit meeting next month in Qatar, and if you haven't done everything in your power, and I do mean everything, to help me straighten this out, my man won't be the only sacrificial lamb offered up."
The general laughed. "Are you threatening me, Director?"
"You're goddamn right I'm threatening you." The director poked the tall man in the chest. "And, since you seem to be having a hard time understanding me, let me make this perfectly clear. If this all goes south, if we lose control of a single one of the Supers, you will be sacrificed. And, when I say that you will be sacrificed, I'm not talking about your career."
"Listen, Jake, you can't just—"
"Yes. I can." The director's voice was quiet but there was nothing soft about it. "There's always another general and there's always another director. The operation I'm trying to coordinate is crucial and if it doesn't come off exactly right, the body count is going to be very high. Bill, please find out what happened, so we can make damn sure it doesn't happen again, and get the DOD off my back so I can concentrate on what's important."
The general stood with his fists and jaw clenched tightly for a minute before nodding abruptly and striding forcefully back to the waiting car.
The director sighed and looked out over the city once more, trying to ignore the screeching tires and the smell of burning rubber as the general worked out some of his frustrations. His phone beeped at him as he headed back toward his car reminding him that he had a meeting with The Speaker of the House in half an hour. He hated meeting with the speaker, the guy was such a drama queen, but he needed his approval for the operation.
Chi stared at the holograph of her head rotating slowly in the air above the table. It was uncanny, though she suspected that Violet was idealizing the image, leaving out all the little flaws she knew were there. She glanced over at Violet. The dark-haired girl's eyes were narrowed in concentration. "That's amazing, Vi." Chi reached out, "can I touch it?" she asked.
"It's just light."
Her fingers passed through the image. She wasn't sure if she imagined the tingling or not as she pulled her hand back.
"Wait, let me try something." Violet chewed on her lower lip and brought her hands up in front of her, fingers curled slightly. She slowly spread her hands out. The bust stopped rotating and shimmered for a second. "O.K. Try it now."
She reached out again and this time her fingers met a solid surface. She traced the nose and eyebrow ridges with the tips of her fingers.
"What does it feel like?" Violet grunted through her clenched jaw.
"Very smooth, like glass, almost, but it doesn't quite match with the image."
Violet relaxed her hands and let out the breath she'd been holding. The image disappeared with a twinkle. "I'll have to work on that," she grinned. Her eyes darted around and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "What'd you think?"
"I think you left out all the little flaws and made me way prettier than I actually am."
Violet blushed and changed the subject. "Since I made that doughnut last week, I've been experimenting with making different shapes with my force projection."
Chi furrowed her brow. "What about San Diego?"
"What about San Diego?"
"At Sea World, you shaped it like a dolphin."
"Yeah, when you were swimming, you were using your force thingy to make yourself into a dolphin and..."
"Cool!" Violet broke into a wide grin, "Oh! That reminds me. You know how I lost my clothes 'cause I couldn't make them invisible? Well, I can now. Check it out!"
Violet's grin faded when she saw Chi's cheeks turn bright red. "What?" She glanced down at her exposed chest and let out a little scream, her cheeks darkening too as her singlet abruptly reappeared.
"Not that I mind seeing them, Vi, but the dinner table is… oh, you should have seen your face!" Chi couldn't hold it in anymore and broke into giggles.
Violet leaned forward and thumped her head on the table. Chi slid out of her chair and interposed her hand between Violet's head and the table to cushion it. She gathered Violet in her arms and, still giggling, began stroking her head. Violet pulled away and grinned at her mischievously. "What?"
Violet wiggled her eyebrows and leered at her chest. Chi's eyes followed.
The director settled his bulk into the sturdy chair and studied the man staring at him impassively. "How are they treating you, Rick?"
Dicker shrugged, "I'm still alive, so… better than I expected, Director."
"As prison cells go, it's very nice."
"You know why you're here?"
"I have a pretty good idea."
"Is there anything I can—"
"Do you really think this is a good idea?"
The director raised his eyebrows at the uncharacteristic interruption and let out a sigh. "She needs to be reminded of how much she needs us. I think it's the only thing that has a chance to work."
"Have you tried talking to her?"
Jacobs snorted in amusement.
"It's not important, Rick."
"It's the only thing that is important, Jake."
"You're wrong, Rick, and, deep down, you know it. There are six billion of us. A few less won't make any difference in the long run."
The director shrugged.
Dicker looked into the director's eyes. "Am I one of the few?"
The director met his gaze evenly but said nothing.
Dicker turned away.
"I know people, Rick. This is the best way."
Dicker remained unresponsive. Eventually, the director heaved himself out of the chair and headed out. At the door he paused. "This is why you're not the director, Rick. You aren't willing to make the necessary sacrifices." He considered slamming the door behind him but he knew the gesture would be wasted. Rick was a sentimental fool. The director pulled up Mirage's code phrase on his PDA and dialed his phone.
Joe Bartel closed the file and leaned back in his chair. He had to decide if he was going to follow orders or do his job. He didn't see how he could do both. He sat in quiet contemplation for nearly half an hour. Finally, he nodded to himself and reached for the phone.
Violet lay across the bed with an exaggerated pout on her face. "Let me try again!"
"Oh, come on," Violet wheedled, "I think I know what I did wrong."
"Not gonna happen." Chi insisted. "I have just instituted a strict policy about how often I should see myself without any skin and I have decided that once every twenty-five years is often enough." She shivered as she sat on the bed next to Violet. "Maybe too often, I don't think I'll ever get that image out of my head." She shied away as Violet sat up and reached for her.
"O.K, no more invisibility experiments," Violet promised.
"No more experimenting?"
Violet grinned and traced a finger up Chi's arm and over her shoulder. She leaned in and bit Chi lightly on the neck, "I didn't say that!" She ran her hand up the side of Chi's face and entangled her fingers into the blonde hair. Gently she pulled Chi's head back and started tracing kisses along her neck.
The phone rang.
Next Time: Bite the Bullet and Play the Cards You're Dealt.
Author's note: Once again, I'd like to thank my beta readers (audi katia, King in Yellow, mewpainappuru, otherrealmwriter and kittyore9) for their awesome feedback and helping me make sure that everything that needed to be clear was actually clear. At this point, if you don't know what's going on, it's because I don't want you to know yet.