by Estes, Danny
“Randolph,” Jill called his name from the doorway. When Randolph didn’t answer her right away, as he was absorbed in his thoughts of what he could use, Jill called out more impatiently, “Randolph!”
Shocked into the moment, Randolph turned, “Uh, what?”
“I said I’m going to bed now, and I sleep on the right side,” Jill repeated.
Randolph moved his eyes from her face to the lacy, see-through, dark blue night gown with matching black thong, then heard an annoyed sound come up out of her throat before she backed into the room and slammed the door as if he’d offended her in some way. Randolph focused on the door and puzzled over Jill’s reaction. If she doesn’t want my eyes traveling to places other than her face, then why wear such… Randolph stopped his thoughts and shrugged it off as one of life’s mysteries of women. He then settled back in the couch-chair, forging the unanswerable questions, and finished off the video on the new ways the FoConning Corporation had of rendering plastic into any kind of wood, with all its smells and texture.
If Randolph dreamt at all, he hoped it was of little interest, for it scurried away into non-memories when someone hit him over the head with something soft, backed with a bit of force. Shocked awake by such a rude gesture, Randolph’s mind scrambled, which forced him upright in order to fend off another attack as a familiar voice angrily reminded him where he was, while she accused, “I didn’t volunteer to sleep over in an empty bed. Now get your butt up, your clothes off and in bed, Mister, and I mean now!”
With the use of his hands, Randolph protected his head from further abuse, then yawned and asked, “What time is it?”
“Its 1:00 in the frigging morning!” a very enraged Jill informed him.
“Okay, okay, give me a minute.” Randolph let his guard down to stretch and yawn yet again.
In answer to his request, Jill hit him even harder with the pillow. “You’ve had three hours of moments mister, now move it!” Not in any mood to await his pleasure, Jill threw her pillow at him and grabbed his arm, hauling Randolph off the couch and into the bedroom. “We’ll dispense with a shower, as we only have four hours left of this night,” she declared, and shoved Randolph to the bed to strip him. Once Randolph quit his constant complaints and stood to step out of his pants, Jill threw over the covers and pointed forcefully he was to get in first. Once this was accomplished, Jill crawled in and spooned up to Randolph’s chest and promptly fell back asleep. Randolph spent an hour of the time remaining trying to figure out where to put his hands, as he’d never truly “slept” with a woman before, nor was he sure she wouldn’t bite off his head if he laid them in places anatomically different from his own.
The next morning’s activities, after a simple ham and cheese omelet, found the pair down in the scenario room, where Jill, still pissed with his antics from last night, informed Randolph, “We’re to secure files from a twenty-story building.”
A rather impossible task, Randolph thought, as the room is only four levels high. But Jill pointed out the seven structures which represented the buildings and how they were connected to each other. Not at all thrilled with this farce of a scenario, nor Jill’s attitude one bit, Randolph spoke his mind. “Jill, I’m not a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants thief. A job like this takes me weeks, if not months, to set up. Every building has so many unknowns, I spend—”
“We’ve thirteen hours, Randolph,” Jill cut him off shortly, “which started the moment I picked up this clipboard.” She emphasized the board by waving it in Randolph’s face. “So quit bellyaching, and get me in the building.”
“Okay, fine. But tell me, what’s your role in this?” Randolph asked. “This is my territory. I specialize in getting in and out of places like this. What’s your bit in this caper?”
“In as much as I know, nothing, but we’re a team and as such we work together, so do your job and we’ll see what comes up.”
What came up was Randolph’s ever increasing temper. Buildings are not meant to be waltzed around in if you wish to remain free and breathing, he growled mentally. Specific tools are needed on each job. Hence I never render a time frame as I always design and construct my own, given one tool has to accomplish many tasks.
Some long hours later, Randolph shook his head while working on a problem he would have had a tool for, and hissed at Jill out of frustration, “If you don’t get off my back, I’m going to make a mistake!”
“You’ve had thirty minutes to figure this one out, what’s the delay?” Jill asked irritably.
“I don’t work like this,” Randolph argued just above a whisper, for he knew sound alarms were common in any building as a first defense.
“You do now, so quit stalling. We’ve eight hours and seven floors to go,” she hissed back, slapping his head in frustration. Jill’s action caused Randolph’s hand to jerk and the pen laser he held sliced a wire he was tracing. Jerking his arm back in belated reaction, Randolph inadvertently jabbed Jill in the thigh which caused her to lose balance and step into a proximity alarm he was trying to disable. The combination of mistakes set off two alarms.
Once Jill regained her balance, she registered the loud bells and red lights. This meant Randolph had slipped-up, in her steamed mind. “How could you? Now I’m five minutes away from a migraine that makes an anti-personal mine feel like a few ant bites!”
When Randolph stood up to yell at Jill for her stupidity, he instead backed away from her murderous eyes and declared with an accusing finger, “Don’t you dare look at me that way!” But he got no further in that accusation, as Jill kicked him solidly in the balls and proceeded without hesitation to whale on him like he was a favorite punching bag. When at last semi-consciousness returned him to the world, Randolph found Jill on his chest with his hands locked in a death grip on her slender arms, trying like hell to keep her from smashing his brains out all over the floor.
Jill continued to scream obscenities at Randolph’s clumsiness, till the moment the chips went off in their heads.
Randolph instantly released his hold of Jill in an anguished cry, as excruciating agony cascaded up and down his body, fraying every nerve, every muscle, while every ounce of material not connected to his bones ejected out of every orifice.
~~~
Lying in a hospital bed for some hours before he even chanced opening his eyes, Randolph heard footsteps approaching before he forced his eyes open and saw Mr. Bennett had the nerve to show up by his bedside. The executive looked Randolph over. Glancing at the chart over his head, Mr. Bennett said, “Now that you know how it feels to slip up, I suspect you’ll take our little exercises a bit more seriously.” He did a bit of preening with his sapphire cuff links then looked to Jill’s bed without emotion and then turned to walk away without a word more.
If Randolph had had a gun at hand, he just might, even against all his principles, have used it. But not to kill him, he assured himself, oh no, that would have been far too quick for what I went through. No, I’d have laid into his corporate butt so he’d have to stand from now on to achieve his daily routines, and that would have been just the beginning!
Chapter Eight
Randolph came out of his state of incapacitation a little sooner than Jill, even with the brutal beating Jill had rendered on his body, which meant he was able to defend himself slightly when she stormed into his apartment and reinstated her objections with her fists about the chip going off in her head. After which, she ignored Randolph for a couple of days, allowing him time to heal from both her beatings and the residual debilitation of the brain chip. This bit of generosity allowed Randolph to use an ice pack against his eyes and cheeks as needed while he worked on plans to, “inform the son-of-a-bitch that being brained fucked was not going to be tolerated.” Not by words of course, he thought angrily, as they would be useless. No, but by other means. Means I’m well equipped to achieve with time and research, and best of all, it will be accomplished with their very own credits and equipment!
Randolph sat at his dinner t
able with a lovely array of confections scattered about its surface, finalizing a mini circuit board, when Jill walked in unannounced.
“Randolph, we’ve got to talk.”
The abruptness of her entrance caused Randolph to nearly jump out of his skin, whereby the board went flying. If I’ve ruined that board, he grumbled, it’ll be three days of work down the proverbial tubes.
“Listen, I have to apologize…” Jill began, stopping at the table where he sat, taking note of all the jumbled parts on the table and hearing Randolph’s sigh of annoyance. This broke off what she was saying to ask, “What’s all this?”
When Jill refrained from resuming her actions of earlier days, he took a calming breath, which didn’t work very well, and told her, “What all this is, is none of your business. Now how the hell did you get in without the room telling me?”
“With my passkey, of course,” Jill said without thought as Randolph started looking for the board. “This looks as if you’re building something for a job,” she stated the obvious, accusingly.
“No, I’m not building something for a job,” Randolph lied. “Haven’t you ever sat down and experimented with your ideas?” Randolph found the board intact, saying over his shoulder as he stood, to distract her, “Can I get into your room as well?”
“Not as yet, but maybe later,” Jill answered as he laid the board down, settled back down in his chair and pulled the micro magnifier over for a more thorough examination of the board. With a motion of her hand over the table, Jill commented. “One of the others is a thief as well, but I’ve never heard of him starting from scratch when all you need do is place an order.”
“Then he’s far too stupid for this business!” Randolph snapped, irritated, and added after wiping his face, “Probably what got him caught. Now what the hell is it that you want?” Randolph flipped the board over to inspect the back as Jill stammered a couple of words before angrily slapping the top of his head with something hard. “Ow, what’s that for?” He glared up at her.
“To get your damn attention while I try to apologize,” Jill said with heat.
Randolph lowered his head in disgust, then sat back up in the chair and crossed his arms, noting Jill was wearing one of those out dated dresses yet again, this one polka dotted white over yellow, belted at the waist with the skirt hanging a good foot above her matching high heels. She then took the seat next to him and using a hand to keep the skirt from bunching up under her as she sat, Jill became all feminine-like, ducking her head shyly. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve told me time and again you work at a slower pace, I’ve just never considered your job that difficult. That’s why I was pushing and I shouldn’t have, nor should I have taken it out on you when it was I who slipped up.” Jill raised her head just enough so he could barely see her eyes, before she asked in all humility, “Can you forgive me?”
Randolph heard the emotions in those few words, which caused a lead weight of guilt to high dive into the pit of his stomach. And taking note how contrite she look while fidgeting in her chair awaiting his response, Randolph unfolded his arms and put a small gentle smile on his lips before saying. “You know, I’ve never been apologized to, and even if I had and can’t remember, yours was the most heartfelt delivery I’ve ever heard. So yes, Jill, I accept your apology.”
Jill raised her head with a bright smile, causing her face to brighten, then said in true honesty, “Thank you.” She moved a stray hair out of her eyes. “Now if you'll take a shower and dress nicely, I’ll treat you to a night of dancing and dinner.”
Randolph cocked his head and looked puzzled at her. “I thought we couldn’t leave the building?”
“Oh, we can’t. The big shots are having their yearly ball, and anyone with our clearance may arrive as long as we behave.” Jill glanced about in search of something. “Didn’t you receive the invitation?”
“Uh, not that I know of, I’ve been rather busy.”
“Well, forget about that tonight.” Jill stood, and twirling her skirt so it flared out, she said happily, “For we are going dancing till our feet fall off tonight!”
“Uh, I hate to burst your bubble Jill, but I never learned to dance.”
“Pay no mind to that,” Jill said, pulling him out of the chair. “You just get cleaned up, and I’ll do the rest on the dance floor.” As Jill prodded him toward the shower, Randolph protested he had no dress clothes suitable for an event like this, but she playfully patted his face, explaining she’d already taken care of that.
They were both a bit tipsy as they managed the moving hallway to Randolph’s door later that morning. Finally Randolph pulled his card out to access his door, which was a bit hard, as Jill held tightly to his other arm to keep her balance. Still laughing, swaying some to keep her balance, she attempted an intoxicated speech. “Oooh, Johnny, you were won-der-ful. And you said you couldn’t dance.”
Randolph got the door open and managed to get Jill to the back of the couch-chair without falling.
Still giggling after their stumble-walk, Jill caught her breath as Randolph made for the door to close it. “And the muuusic, ahhh the music, it was—” Jill tried a twirl in her knee-length dress but her feet refused to handle the full circle. Just closing the door, Randolph saw the obvious result about to happen and reached out in time to catch her up before her bottom hit the floor, staggering with her unaided weight in his own mildly drunk state as she tilted her head back to announce, “Every-thing was perfect.”
“Yeah, it was nice,” Randolph agreed, getting her to her feet and into the bedroom.
Jill sat heavily on the bed and dropped her purse as Randolph stepped away, undoing the useless silk tie which had come with his 1,000-credit suit. But before he could get it fully off, Jill leaned forward to take off her high heels, only to lose her balance. Randolph saw this and reacted, catching her up, but lost his own balance when Jill grabbed and jerked his tie, whereby they both ended up on the bed together with a startled laugh.
Jill slapped at Randolph playfully when he moved off her. She then grabbed his arm in aid of sitting up, saying with a smile, “Hold your horses, lover boy. I want some fore-play before loving you.”
“Love?” Randolph exclaimed. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he told her, “Jill, I think we best wait till you’re more sober.”
Putting a finger to her lips, Jill shushed him. “Not a-nother word John-ny my boy, to-night is not for talking, but for love making. Now be a good boy and pucker up, as I’m still very huungry.”
“Jill, you’re drunk.” Randolph stood to get out of her reach, feeling uncomfortable in how she was talking.
“Huush, dammit, I don’t care. I’m in the mood to make passionate love, and youu’re spoiling it,” Jill argued, throwing a shoe at him.
Randolph backed into the door. “Jill, I may have been sleeping with you, but I don’t want to take advantage of you while you’re drunk.”
Jill stood, using the bed for support, and reached up under her dress to pull off her white lace panties. “I say you’re not. Now get those tight buns over here and fondle me!”
Randolph remained where he was and took note of the look in Jill’s eyes; even though they were heavily dilated, he could still see the storm clouds forming within, ready to strike if he disobeyed her. But if I give in, I’m also sure she’ll be pissed later today, believing I took advantage of her condition.
Now that she had her panties off, Jill tossed them up at Randolph playfully as she sat. She patted the bed next to her and undid her belt, saying coyly, “I’ve two lone-ly breasts wish-ing for a couple of strong hands. Do youu have a pair of hands wish-ing to play?”
Regretfully, for his well-being he had to pass up on her offer. He crossed to her as she smiled, playfully leaning back on her hands.
“They’re uunder my dress wait-ing to see you, but youu’ll have to help them get out.” Randolph sighed and rolled his eyes skyward, hating himself for this, but gave Jill a right cross anyway, quick and fast.
&nb
sp; Around five in the morning, the bedroom door opened and Jill called out, “Randolph, are you out here?”
Randolph blinked a second or so before he felt Jill sit on the couch-chair.
She nudged his shoulder. “What are you doing out here? You should be sleeping with me.”
With a bit of effort, Randolph pulled his thoughts together and answered with a yawn and stretch, “I didn’t think it was appropriate.”
“Why not?” Jill asked massaging her cheekbone.
“Because you were drunk, and I didn’t want you accusing me that I helped you get so, so I’d get laid last night.”
“Is that why my cheek hurts? Did I fall or something?”
“Or something is about right,” Randolph said. She was wearing nothing but a towel, “You were throwing yourself at me, telling me you wished to make love of all things, love mind you, not sex.” Now that his mind was working up to semi-speed, Randolph couldn’t help but ask, “Jill, is…do…I mean, do you love me?”
Jill sobered some and bit her lip, then shook her head, denying. “Of course not. That was just the alcohol talking.” Still rubbing her cheek, she began, “Now then, do you have any—”
“Aspirin?” Randolph finished for her, and in gaining a slow nod he answered, “Sure, third shelf up in the bathroom.”
“Thanks. Oh, why don’t you get undressed and come to bed?” Jill stood.