Prototype Ch. 05

"Wow," Maggie said as her eyes slowly came back into focus. "This machine is amazing. I can feel all of act two just floating around in my head. With this I could memorize every play ever written!"

I raised an eyebrow at her from my seat across the training desk. "Technically, yes- but that would take a rather long time. Even at two hours a pop that's still..." I faked doing some mental math in my head, gesturing randomly with my hands in the air as if pantomiming the act of doing long style multiplication. "Carry the four... And assuming I have even the slightest clue how many plays are out there."

"Oh come off it," She chided me jovially as she reached up and started to carefully remove the wire-frame helmet from where it had rested since shortly after she had arrived. "You know what I mean. Two hours is still nothing compared to how long it would take to get them all the old fashioned way."

"True, but-" I had to stop to help her finish removing it without snagging too much of her hair in the weave. Would have been a shame to ruin what had to have been at least an hour's worth of work. Not that I was any better at estimating time invested in hair and makeup than I was at literary summations. "I have an idea, I don't plan on getting rid of the machine anytime soon. How about we just use it to memorize the plays you are auditioning for, or at least the ones you get parts in."

Maggie's look shined with appreciation mixed with doubt as her eyes turned up to capture mine. "So sure I'm going to get another part after this?"

I smiled at her, doing my best to straighten out the few strands I had failed to save. "Are you kidding me? This is just the beginning." I couldn't help it when my hand lingered on her cheek once I was done. The warmth I felt there seemed to flow into me, and unfortunately straight down to my cock.

Down boy, I thought to myself. There will be time for that later if all goes well.

Maggie didn't seem to notice. She raised her own hand and touched mine as it still rested on her face. Her eyes drooped, half lidded, as she leaned gently into the touch. "Thanks Benjamin. I know it's stupid, but it's hard to believe in yourself sometimes, you know? It's good to know I have at least one friend who's got my back."

The honesty and appreciation in her voice was too much for what little remained of my conscience to bare. I turned away, covering the uncomfortable moment with a platitude of some form. Was that moment because she had always wanted me to believe in her, or was it because of the fragments I had just slipped into her mind without her conscious knowledge or consent. I cursed myself for a failure. I had been trying to make it easier to get to the bottom of how she felt for me. All I had ended up doing was inject even more doubt into the mix.

I had added the phrases devised to keep her ignorant of any changes I had been making. Better safe than sorry, right? "I don't question any changes in my feelings for Benjamin" and "My new feelings for Benjamin are perfectly natural" had been the first to go into her file before she had arrived for our "date". Both of those were almost verbatim from the original fragment files that had come with the machine.

Next I had added "I trust Benjamin with my thoughts and feelings" and "I can be open and honest with Benjamin" to the list. Those would make it easier for her to answer questions that otherwise she might have been too bashful, or even scared to respond to. Those last two were my problem at the moment. I had all but removed the emotional filter between the two of us- at least from her end. In that moment my own doubt and insecurity had pointed out a very annoying fact, if only a little too late to do anything about it. If my fragments had worked, Maggie wouldn't be able to tell the difference between her real feelings the ones that resulted from how her mind interpreted all the changes I was making. The problem was that if she couldn't tell, then I couldn't either.

Of course, my own libido had only made that conundrum worse. I wish I could say it wasn't my fault. Blame it on how she was dressed, or something. But as bad as I am I know that's just deflection.

She had arrived in a tight sleeveless black number that looked more like something directly out of Rachel's wardrobe than anything I'd ever seen Maggie wear. It was a soft fabric that wasn't too fuzzy but still seemed like it was just begging to be touched. There were deep v-shaped portions on the side, just under each arm, and another in the back where that fabric had been removed. In its place was an almost sheer nylon that did just enough to hide what was beneath it. It hugged her form in ways that gave me a fresh appreciation for the effort she put into her body. The outfit was finished off with a pair of knee high boots that made a delicious sound on the floors of my apartment with each step she had taken as she had slowly walked in. Her hair was done up in another braid today, one on each side that wrapped around and touched in the back. The effect seemed to almost give her a crown, with most of her hair left out of the braid to cascade freely down onto her shoulders and back.

She had always cleaned up pretty well. I just wasn't used to being the intended recipient of all the effort. Still didn't quite get to Rachel's level in terms of pure sex appeal, but there was something about how she held herself. I hadn't been able to keep my eyes off of her since she had arrived. Even with the woven mesh of wires sitting atop her beautiful locks I couldn't help but catch myself staring at her while she had been soaking up her training. And I was doing it again, I realized, as she chided me gently from beneath my gaze.

"Something wrong with my hair?" She asked softly. The answer was no, of course. She was as beautiful as ever- but the soft edge to her voice told me she already knew that. She was just giving me a polite way to step out of the moment.

So I stepped into it instead, running a hand down the side of her dress as I helped her up and out of her chair. I pulled her into me with the other arm to enjoy the warmth of her against me even as I palmed a healthy handful of her ass and squeezed. "Shall we get going?"

"I'm ready if you are," She responded, heedless of the way I was fondling her.

That was what I meant when I blamed my libido. When she had arrived dressed as she had, I couldn't resist adding one of Rachel's phrases to Maggie's training. "Benjamin can touch me anywhere he wants" had joined "I will continue training on Benjamin's machine as long as I'm asked to." The first gave me the courage to indulge without fear of rejection and the second to ensure that I could get her to come back for more training if anything went wrong tonight.

Thus, I was left cursing my own lack of self-control as I tried to analyze the glint in her eyes. Reluctantly I released her from my arms and allowed her to pull me towards the door.

"Let's celebrate!" She cried, hopping with excitement. I couldn't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm as I locked up behind us once we were outside. "Club Four-One-Five here we come!"

We caught a cab to the bar and it didn't take us too long to get situated once we were past the short line at the door. It wasn't what I would call a top end establishment, but I still felt somewhat underdressed in my neat shirt and tidy jeans.

The music was mostly dance tracks, and the place was full enough that the floor was always well populated. On the rare times I ended up in a place like that the voyeur in me usually spent most of its time just watching the sea of humanity without really taking part in its rhythmic undulations. But tonight, I had other plans than just people watching. Well, aside from one person in particular. And anyone else that managed to draw my eyes away, of course. I wasn't so focused that I couldn't enjoy a wandering moment or two when Maggie was out of sight for some reason.

"What'll you have?" The bartender asked me, or at least I had to assume that was his question. It was hard to hear over the ceaseless thumping of the music all around us.

I pointed to the bottle of Seven still out on the counter and held up one finger on each hand. "Two shots," I attempted to yell over the din. He seemed to understand. A little more charades and shouting resulted in a corona for me and an amaretto-sour for Maggie- her favorite, as far as I knew.

I turned around, handing one of the shots to Maggie behind me. "To your first big break- and many more to come!" I attempted to toast her. She smiled at me and nodded, colliding her glass with mine appropriately before wrapping her arm around mine. It took me a second to remember- we hadn't done anything like this since we had partied together back in high school. Old habits die hard though, and soon enough both of our throats were burning as the shot started warming our stomachs.

With the opening round out of the way we each took our drinks and moved far enough away from the music to be able to talk in a tone more respectful of our vocal cords. I took a position behind her where I could lay a hand on the side her hip but still look out at the throng of humanity around us. There weren't really any open tables for us to sit down but I was trying to watch for them.

"Seriously, Benjamin," Maggie said after a few moments of soaking it all in. She turned more to face me, but without forcing me to remove my hand I couldn't help but notice. "Where did you get that machine? It's fucking amazing. You didn't put that all together on your own did you? Is that what's been so different about you?"

I could hear her barrage of questions perfectly well, even if she did still have to speak well above a normal conversational tone. I considered my answer for a moment before I spoke. "It's something I've been thinking about for a while now. I just needed a little push to make me do something about it," I said, successfully deflecting most her questions with something close enough to the truth. "My turn- why did you finally stop calling me Benji?" I asked. It was as direct a question as I could muster with the little supply of liquid courage that was in my system at the time.

Now it was her turn to get lost in thought for a moment. She covered well by taking a rather long sip of her drink as her eyes seemed to search my face once more. "I don't know. It just seemed... I guess after our fight I was afraid you would never really grow up."

She moved closer to me then, if only a little. If I didn't have a beer in my other hand I would have taken it as an invitation to wrap my arms around her completely.

"But after you called, and you helped me out... I realized I had been calling you that to keep you safe. I mean, I was trying to hold on to my old friend from grade school, back when we were both just kids. But then you just seemed different. More grown up I guess. My old nickname for you just didn't fit anymore."

Our eyes seemed glued to each other for a moment longer. I wanted to ask a follow up question. I wanted to ask her why she kissed me. I wanted to ask her if she had feelings for me, or if this was all just flirting with someone she felt was safe. I wanted to... I wanted to kiss her.

The problem with a training device that lets you sneak changes into other people's subconscious mind without their knowledge is that it doesn't automatically give you the courage you need to ask the right questions yourself. Or even take that one step over a line you need to force a change the perfectly normal way things like that are done. Maybe I needed to do a bit more training myself.

Either way the moment passed.

She smiled at me, taking another sip of her drink as she turned to gaze out at the dance floor for a moment. "If it took me kicking you in the balls to get you to grow up then it was worth the risk." She said with an edge to her voice that seemed to say she had just finished an argument.

"What do you mean," I asked the back of her head.

She turned back, appraising me another moment before she placed a hand on my chest and met my eyes once more. "I was afraid I had lost my best friend, Benjamin. Truth was, I had been losing you for years. And I couldn't handle it anymore. I knew it was going to hurt, cutting you off like that. I knew I couldn't just keep watching you slowly fade away. It was worth the risk." Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, the motion drawing my eyes like a snake charmer taming its prey.

See, here's the problem with tweaking someone so they were willing to be open and honest with you. You had to be willing to listen to what they were saying without being insulted by it. That's what that filter was there for, normally. To keep us from saying things that might hurt other people with the sharpness of our honesty. Sometimes it's just easier to live with the lie.

But not with Maggie. Not after what I had done. "I wasn't that bad, was I?" I asked, more defensively than I wanted to admit.

She smiled at me, with a grin that reached all the way to her eyes. There was a lot of emotion in that look. I had to force myself to match it. Looking away in the moment wouldn't have been worthy of her.

"You were, Benjamin. Were." She said, an echo of her own words from our fight- this time with a completely different meaning. "I can see the drive in you again now. The spark that I loved in you back when we were kids."

I couldn't help it then, I had to look away. "But we're not kids anymore, Maggie," I said distantly. The ball of emotion inside me was roiling in conflict. There was truth in what she was saying, I was in control enough to know that. But her words weren't clear enough to push through the barriers I had built to protect myself from her. Her friendship had meant so much to me over the years, but it had hurt me more than once as well. Each time I had allowed myself to hope. Each time I had reached out thinking that maybe that time she felt for me like I felt for her. It's hard to get past those walls. Those old wounds. We build them for a reason, right? Unless you'd just had those all removed for you by your old friend with the best of nefarious intentions.

She had said something while I was distracted by my own doubt and the modicum of lingering guilt over what I was doing to her. "What?" I asked her, allowing my eyes to be drawn away with the convenient excuse of a distraction the sea of humanity was providing. "What did you say?"

"I said, kiss me." She stated flatly, although her eyes were still grinning as my attention snapped back to them.

"Kiss you?"

"Yes, you ninny," She poked my chest just hard enough to make me wince.

"Hey now," I chided her. For a moment I felt the loss of contact as my free hand left the warmth of her waist to apprehend her offending digit. Though once I had her hand in mine, I didn't let go. She made no immediate effort to remove it.

"I got that part because of you. Everything could change from here. You. Me..." She said, as breathless as one could get in a dance club and still be heard. "And it's all because of you." The moment dragged on, pregnant with anticipation.

"I said, kiss me, Benjamin." Her eyes were deep pools that seemed to pull me into them as they shifted back and forth across my face. "We're not kids anymore."

My heart was in my throat as I stared at her. From somewhere my hand seemed to move of its own accord. It twisting down and around her back without ever letting go of her hand inside of it. I felt her move in closer to me with the motion, each of our drinks all but forgotten in our other hands. Forgotten, but not discarded, we weren't that drunk yet.

I pulled her against me, unwilling to break the eye contact that now threatened to swallow me, even if the reward was to finally taste Maggie in a way I had dreamed about for years. For a few moments longer I just held her, taking in the warmth of her body and the flush of her cheeks as breathed against me.

Once again it was Maggie that took the initiative. I nearly gasped as her lips touched my own, parting immediately with the soft invasion of her tongue. I twisted my grasp on her and angled my neck opposite her own as the gentle touch quickly turned into something much deeper. Years of pent up frustration leaped forth as I tried to explore her and devour her with my lips and my tongue.

"Oh!" She gasped, pulling away from me suddenly and shattering the moment like a thousand shards of glass.

For an instant I recoiled, some part of me instantly knowing that this was the moment she would turn it all against me- give me some line that would push me squarely back into the friend zone. The instant later that anguish turned to anger. How dare she hurt me like that! I would show her! I would twist her into a little fuck-puppet that begged for my affection!

But her eyes showed that part of me the lie those thoughts were. Her face was still flushed with heat, but the desire was still there. She held up her hand, licking some of her spilled drink off of her wrist. "Party foul," She nearly giggled, before flashing a devilish look at me and downing the rest of her drink.

"Let's dance!" She said, infused with the combination of courage of our lingering kiss and her drink.

I allowed her to drag me to the dance floor, each step doing more and more to sooth the part of me that had nearly lashed out at her moments before. She wasn't going to hurt me, not this time. This time she wanted me. She wanted me. She wasn't dragging me anymore- I was following her willingly as a smile slowly stretched across my face.

Somewhere along the way I managed to finish most of the beer and left it abandoned along with her glass on one of the tables we had passed. One of the serving girls that circled the bar would pick it up eventually. In that moment neither of us cared.

Maggie started dancing, the rhythm of the music moving the both of us. Like a tide it pushed her up and against me and then pulled her away from me. This cycle repeated itself as each song played and then shifted seamlessly into the next.

My hands found their way to her side, and down again. They climbed up her back and into the flowing hair at her neck. They shifted down until I had her ass in both of my hands, squeezing her against me as I stole another breathless kiss from her before the music once again stole her away from me. She shifted, twisted with the crowd and ground her back up against me. One arm wrapped around her as we swayed together with the music while the other reached up and squeezed one of her breasts through her dress. I felt more than heard her moan as her body reacted to me in those moments.

Her hands were on me as well. Wrapped around my neck. Entangled around my waste. She had run them up and down my thigh as she had turned around, and the next time she had spun to face away from me she even was so brazen as to push a hand between us to rub against my hardened cock trying to escape its cotton and denim prison.

I'm not claiming that we were amazing dancers, but in those moments the relative athletic ability of either of us mattered less than the fact that we were sharing those moments together.

Eventually we were forced to leave the throng if only to catch our breath. Even so, there was little conversation to be had in those moments.

"I've wanted you for so long, Maggie," I managed at one point, holding her face in both of my hands and staring at her as if I was afraid it was all a dream that could slip through my fingers.

"What took you so long, Benjamin," She asked me breathlessly during our second exodus from the dance floor.

Our third trip was much calmer, although only by comparison. We spent much more of it just holding each other as we danced together, both of us smiling like puppies at each other. The mass of people around us seemed to close in even more than before- or perhaps it was just that we were finally aware enough to notice.