Office Hours (Closed thread)

[Bevatoria]

It was supposed to be a peaceful night. His items in order, with little or no chance of losing anything else to the divorce, and finally nothing to clog up his evening.

Yet there Adam sat, drinking, watching a DVD on screen. The one that had slipped out earlier, that Becky had seen (unbeknownst to him), as he mindlessly watched the action play out, the moans and screams of the tied up victim doing nothing for him. He and Catherine had tried watching some of the dirty videos now in his possession together once; and while she enjoyed it, it hadn't done much for him.

The sex afterwards was forced on his part, and he knew why. Catherine wanted to fantasize about it, about not being in control. For a woman always *in* control, it was intoxicating to think about, but never to actually lose it. For Adam, he couldn't stop at mere pretend. He wanted to actually act out the scenes, and he had secretly bought several items to make those fantasies real. Catherine hadn't reacted well when he'd brought it up. She had just wanted it in the safety of her mind, the thought of being tied up and punished stowed safely in her mind.

Even if the scene on screen had been him, Adam knew it wasn't the perfect scene. The woman on screen had 'deserved' her punishment, as much as any woman being tied, chained, and whipped had deserved it. Adam's true, dark desires had him violating someone who didn't deserve it.

Someone who'd only been nice to him. Who'd done nothing but try to endear themselves to him, who had no idea who he really was beneath the veneer of civility and society....

The thought of that got him hard. He drank the beer, staring into the distance long after the video finished...long after the DVD player had automatically shut off.

Sleepless night.

...however you needed...

She had no idea.

***************

Thankfully, Friday had always been a casual day for him, so he - with the blistering heat also being a factor - finally left the suit jacket in his office, adorning a blue short sleeved shirt and light brown pants for his lecture. His unshaven face would not look out of place with the students, although the professors gave him an odd look or two.

Next week, he promised. Next week he'd be back to his normal self.

He strode into the class room before anyone, taking his place at the front to work on his lecture notes again. He looked up, nodding and smiling at students as they walked in periodically, his eyes never relenting in their search for the one he wanted.

The one he craved.

 

[PollySays]

A long warm bath had been intended to help relax her muscles after the rather exhausting day. How she had managed to fall asleep during her soak was still something she didn't understand, waking up to frigid water. Getting out and grabbing a towel, she didn't bother to put her night clothing on, simply drying off and making her way to the bed. It was almost two am, and she was just getting into bed. That alarm was going to hurt come six.



-------


The incessant buzz that woke her caused a flailing of her arm out into the empty space beside her bed, having forgotten about the rearrangement of her room. Her phone was all the way on the other side of the room now, sitting on her desk. A personal torture method to get her out of the bed.

Becky groaned, lazily rolling out of the sheets and going over to fetch it. The screen gave a weather warning on high temperatures for the day, confirming Becky's plans for another dress for the day, a little pink gingham halter top dress she had picked up a few weeks ago. It was rather cute, and certainly cool enough for the hot day. Slipping into her underclothing and grabbing the dress, she made her way into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Something about the pattern called for vibrant red lipstick, a color that seemed to call out in her mind. Perhaps the fact it looked so good on someone else who had the same facial structure and hair color in that picture yesterday? No, that couldn't have been it.
Her hair received a bit of a curling, a high ponytail brought into play and a quick pass of eyeliner to her face. Heeled white sandals completed it all, even with her self-scolding on not wearing the things anymore for her walks across the quad. She hated to wear sneakers in the heat. It felt so confining!

As she made her way out of the dorms, her bag slung over her shoulder (with a personal mental note to go buy a new one, with that damaged strap still bothering her so much!), Becky was surprised at how many other students were outside eating their breakfasts this morning. A group of boys were playing hackysack in front of the sidewalk, each sipping on smoothies as they kicked the tiny ball around. A too high kick sent it flying up into the air, one of the boys scrambling to try and catch it as he flailed out his arms.

"John! Look out!," One of his friends howled, but the warning was only given in time to perfectly align John's arm to toss his bright red drink down the front of Becky's dress.

She stared down in horror, shocked at the cold drink that was seeping through her dress, looking up to see almost the same expression mirrored on the boy's face. "I am so sorry," he blurted out quickly, his friends hastily bringing over napkins to try and help clean her up. "Are you okay? I swear to god, I didn't see you!"

"Just. Just wasn't expecting that," she replied softly, taking a handful and trying to clean it off. It was already staining. Becky's heart broke. What a mess. Maybe she could get back to the dorms and change before class. A glance upward to the giant clock on the side of the main hall dispelled that idea, reminding her on the mere minutes left before her first class.

Professor Tourast's class.

She was nearly in tears now. She did have an option, but. She really didn't want to take it.

"I have to go. I'm going to be late." She bit down on her lip softly, hurrying across the lawn and for his classroom. There were lavatories not far from his class, but she still felt that knot growing a thousand times bigger on her available option.

The dresses in her bag.
His ex's dresses.
They were all she had available.

She was nearly in tears as she pushed her way into the restroom, locking the stall door behind her and taking off the soiled dress, taking out the short flowery printed dress from her bag. She had no real choice, she deemed as she slipped it over her head, already feeling tears leaving her eyes.

That had to stop. Immediately. It would only make this worse, she knew that. Quickly trying to wipe them away, only managing to smear that eyeliner, she stuffed her old dress into the bag and hurried out of the stall. She checked her phone as she hurried, cursing softly. Over five minutes late. He was obviously going to notice, she knew that as she started to open the door. Sucking in a sharp breath, she stared at the floor as s he hurried in, making a beeline for her seat and refusing to look up.

 

[Bevatoria]

"Interesting point."

With or without a full room of students, class had to go on, as Adam had started things precisely on time. It took no effort to maintain the decorum of the wise professor, genuinely interested in the debate of his eager young students. It was their third class, and the two people eagerly jutting their hands up were debating as if they had gone back and forth all year. He had to smile despite the dour fog that blanketed him now; it was good to see that all the cynicism in the world hadn't doused this eager discussion.

"But..." he rubbed his chin. "...you're forgetting about Australia." He heard a few questioning noises, and he let the silence linger before he continued. "A western country that uses mandatory voting, and you don't hear many people bring up that they're undemocratic." He shrugged, ignoring the sound of the door opening at the back of the room. Two people were absent, and even if he was very aware of one of them, he wouldn't be about to pay her special attention.

"I pose this to you. Is mandatory voting as undemocratic as a dictatorship where the elections are a sham?" He caught the sight of someone scrambling to a familiar seat as he continued.

"Is being forced to vote at all as bad as being forced to vote for a single party? As the vote totals being falsified?"

She was wearing white sandals, revealing an entirely-too-bare leg as she slid into her desk, her eyes low.

"Is an uniformed vote as dangerous as a false one?"

He caught enough of her face to see she was wearing eyeliner - smudged from something, although Adam couldn't tell what - and bright red liptstick. Which reminded him all too much of a certain someone.

Adam could hear the mutterings below his somewhat unreasonably founded statement, so he decided to up the ante even more.

"Even more so, class, I put to you - what is the criteria for an uniformed voter? Moreover, who decides what uniformed really is?"

She still looked down, but before she was hidden by her desk, he saw what she was wearing, and it took every bit of effort not to gulp as he finished his soliloquoy.

"Is an ignorant voter, by our views, just someone using a different criteria? Who is to be the judge of smart and stupid?" He smirked. "Should it be us? Should we, the 'educated', the 'upper class', make the final choice on what the right and wrong reasons are to vote for someone?"

She was wearing one of Catherine's dresses. One that was fairly short on Catherine. On Becky, though...if the dress slid onto Catherine, it hugged Becky. Even in his brief look, Adam could admire the way the hem of the dress ran up her thighs, the way it hugged her curves, gleaming against her slightly larger, younger body. It was as if Catherine had been pulled out of a time machine and molded in a way that burned fires into Adam's dark, tormented mind. He had to do something about it.

Not now, though.

"I put that to you." Adam pointed at the first eager hand to shoot up among several, and while he listened intently oh their answer, he took every excuse he could to shoot more then one look Becky's way; she'd have to look up eventually. He moved his glasses down, letting his eyes bear into his eager young pupils as another spoke up...and as his eyes roamed the room, they locked in on one particular student as he drove the discussion.

 

[PollySays]

She could hear the class continuing around her, unheeded. Her own fault for being late, her own problem for concentration issues. Professor made clear his expectations on students back on the first day, and being late was not acceptable.

She attempted to listen in, to take notes as best she could as the debates continued around her. She wanted to take part, but the fear of attracting too much attention, to let recognition settle in, was too strong. She bravely stole an upward glance from her notes, nearly losing her pen much the same way she had done on her first day.

Right at her.
He was looking right at her, over the brim of his glasses.

He knew. He saw.
She truly, completely felt ill now. This hadn't been an attempt to hurt him. An accident, pure and simple.

His words continued on, unphased by his look in her direction. The class kept to their debates and questions, arguments and points raised about the room. Becky looked over once more, trying to peek at her neighbors or at the far wall instead of meeting his gaze. She could feel it still, however. His peerings in her direction, questioning and studying. She could only imagine the thoughts in his mind, and was so ashamed now. She should have stayed with the stain. Put the dresses away yesterday. Not been so. Selfish. That's what it was. Wanting to save those few extra dollars and now she was slapping him in the face with his kindness.

Class felt like it dragged for hours. Nearly the whole afternoon. She wanted out. Now. To find a place to change, to get out of this dress.

The clock finally ticked down to those last few minutes, Becky starting to lose some of her tension. Just sneak out between others. Keep out of his line of sight. He can't say anything if he can't find you, and you can take them over right after classes.

She watched the clock with the stare of a hawk, nearly toppling her desk as the last moment passed. That bad strap, however, found its favorite spot, snagging the loose bolt and jarring her back down. The bag fell open, notebooks and the other dresses, her soiled and the newly acquired, spilling across the floor. She was quickly on her knees as well, hurrying to shove them back in as the rest of the class filtered out.

No, no.
Her smokescreen.
Her camoflouge.
Don't leave!

Her eyes raised from the floor, looking at him hesitantly. "I had. An accident this morning." Both excuse for her tardiness, and her appearance, meager as it was.

 

[Bevatoria]

He didn't even need to tell everyone they were dismissed; the students were either engaged in the discussion, not paying attention to the passage of time. Or, they were tuned out of what was going on around them and only waiting for the class to end. Adam was used to that, and not offended; it would take time for some to get used to the larger group discussions, or even to just letting him talk and teach. The jump from high school to university was a difficult one for some, and he wasn't oblivious enough to ignore it.

There was a particular student whom he kept his eye on the entire class, one clearly in the waiting-for-the-class to end category. Becky was clearly uneasy, but also a bit...nervous. It wasn't what Adam had expected; it almost looked as if she'd made a mistake. As the students made their way out, she slipped, items falling out of her faulty handbag. She went to her knees, and Adam stood as the last people in the class filed out, the door clicking closed behind them with finality as he made his way towards her.

She presented an enticing sight; scrambling to fill her bag, stopping when Adam got near to her. He loomed over her silently, a hard, questioning look focused on the top of her head. Becky looked up with a sudden vulnerability at him, barely able to meet his gaze as she spoke.

"I had. An accident this morning."

Whatever you do, don't laugh.

That obviously wasn't what she meant, and Adam kept his look at her. She obviously hadn't meant to hurt him, but here she was, looking like a younger, more beautiful version of his ex-wife. It burned him, gnawed at him, that she was so nice, so innocent, so...unattainable. They'd already pushed away several teacher student boundaries in the last few days. His mind was racing, whirring, knowing what he would do next, yet hesitating as to how. His expression changed while she finished with her bag, he did something unexpected, at least for him.

He looked at her, anger and sadness in his eyes. "Get. Up." She didn't seem to be quite done with putting things back into her bag yet, but he was past caring. With no more students in the room, he let the emotions that had been boiling behind his calm veneer roar back to the forefront in his tone, if not in his tone as he glared at her.

"I'm sure it was an accident." He spat out. "Just a coincidence that you dressed yourself up just like my wife." He eyed her again, her curls and ponytail bouncing as she seemed to be watching a man she'd never seen before. "Take advantage of my charity, pretend to be helping me when all you're interested in doing is tormenting and hurting me."

"*I* told you that I didn't want my wife's clothes flaunted around campus for me to see and be reminded of." Of course, he knew that her having them was an honest mistake; convenient circumstances combined with her having grabbed them when he was out of the room yesterday. Adam had deduced that within five seconds of her being in the room; no other outcome made sense to him logically. "But you took them anyways. Everything I offered, every bit of advice, every..." He shook his head sadly.

"I wanted to trust you, Becky." Adam looked down, walking back to his desk. "I thought you could bring me hope and comfort during a time when I was at my darkest, but I can see that's not the case." He grabbed his bag. "Now, I'm not sure why it is you're here, trying to...butter up to me." He glared at her. "Did you think a smile and a wink would get you a better grade?" Adam paced back towards her deliberately. "Tell me why I shouldn't transfer you to another class."

Admittedly, he could think of one thing; she *did* look really, really good in the dress. Better then his wife did. Hopefully he'd pushed the right buttons to make her desperate; he'd already decided that, one way or another, she'd be his.

 

[PollySays]

Bevky was trying hard to get the bag repacked, the sudden sharp angered tone he used causing her to look up in surprise. She had heard teachers angry before, annoyed with misbehaving students, but nothing as harsh as what he forced out with those two words. This was not the same man she had coffee with, or helped the day prior. This was someone furious and hurt.

She dropped the books, staring up at him with widened eyes, frightened a bit by his harsh tone as he spoke further. "No! Sir, professor, please! I swear that's not it!"

She had hurt him. The dresses. Such a stupid, stupid idea! Becky cringed as he snapped at her, reminding her on what he said the other day. "I realized that after. I didn't want to put them back in with you standing there, I was going to-" she was cut off as he cut deep, accusing her of trying to hurt him and bribe him somehow. Those tears she fought so hard to keep back earlier refused to be contained now, staining her cheeks with her make up. "Professor, please. Please! I never meant to- No, please don't say that! I didn't, I didn't want to do any of that!"

He threatened to transfer her. Kick her out of his class. A tiny sound of worry left her, finally starting towards him. "No. No, don't. I swear to you. It was just a horrid accident. Please. I don't know what I can say to make you believe me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's. It's just a dress..." Words uttered more for herself than her teacher, the now shaking student trying to wipe away her tears.

Make this right. Somehow. Was it even possible?
"I knew. As soon as I thought of putting it on. I knew it was a bad idea. But my own was ruined, stained. I couldn't come in that. What other option did I have?" She looked back at him, her eyes reddened slightly. "Please, sir. I like your class, I really do. I don't want to transfer. I'm so sorry. I. I can. I'll..."

Do what? Make more hell for him?
"Just tell me how I can make this better. How can I apologize. Is it the dress? I swear it will be in the drop box as soon as I change." Becky tried to study his eyes, to see past the hurt and anger in them. She had messed up, terribly. "Just tell me. Please. I swear, I never meant to hurt you."

 

[Bevatoria]

"No. No, don't. I swear to you. It was just a horrid accident. Please. I don't know what I can say to make you believe me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's. It's just a dress..." She shook as she said the words, and Adam looked back at her unconvinced. Of course, she was telling the truth, and of course, she was right. It was just a dress.
"Did you have any idea?" he asked softly. "What this would do to me?"


"I knew. As soon as I thought of putting it on. I knew it was a bad idea. But my own was ruined, stained. I couldn't come in that. What other option did I have?" Her eyes reddened as she looked back at him. "Please, sir. I like your class, I really do. I don't want to transfer. I'm so sorry. I. I can. I'll..."

"You'll what?" he inquired, taking his glasses off as his own eyes tightened. "Now, every time I look at you, all I can think about is...."

"Just tell me how I can make this better. How can I apologize. Is it the dress? I swear it will be in the drop box as soon as I change."

Again, the inquiring, yet still softening a bit look. There was still anger in his eyes, but his face started to wilt into something resembling a compassionate look. Like a man who'd gone too far, realizing he was taking out his anger and frustration on someone who didn't deserve it. It was a skill he'd practiced a lot, both on his wife during the many 'discussions' they'd had prior to divorcing, and on troublesome students whom he wanted to improve. Sometimes, you had to hammer your point through. This was not one of those times, but in this case, his hammer hid a different message.

Namely, that he was faking his compassion.

"Well..." He wasn't sure how to continue, but luckily his student beat him to it.

"Just tell me. Please. I swear, I never meant to hurt you."

An audible sigh escaped him as he slid his glasses back on, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Becky." Adam finally looked back up at her. "I went too far. I know you didn't meant to hurt me and...." He looked her over again, hiding the stirrings behind his look. "...I know your wearing that dress was just a few things going wrong." He tried to smile, but failed. "Honestly, it happens. I just saw it and...."

A moment passed before he continued. "I guess the wounds are still raw. But the only way they're going to heal is if I get used to her not being here." He'd began to pace now, opening himself up to someone in a way he hadn't in a long, long time. "Which will mean occasionally seeing students dressed like her...and who look like her, too." Another small, wistful smile. "I know you saw what she looked like."

He went down to grab his case. "You don't need to do anything to make it up to me, Becky. You're free to go...and you'll always be welcome in my class." He looked down to organize his things for a moment, before watching her for a moment again. "Although....you helped me move some things yesterday, and I couldn't help but notice how my current house needs more of a..feminine touch." He smiled slightly. "I know you might be a bit uncomfortable around me now, but I wouldn't mind it if you...well, helped 'freshen' up my new place a bit."

He knew her nature, and what she'd say. Adam was also fairly certain she wouldn't be able to tell what he was really thinking.

 

[PollySays]

"I'll go change," Becky stated quickly, taking out her old dress. "I don't care if the stain is there. It's bothering you, I did something terrible with this. I thought- I don't know what I was thinking. I just didn't want to wander around with that giant mess on me. I didn't want everyone to see." She sighed, lowering her gaze and shaking her head. "But I didn't mean for it to be something to upset you so much. I should have skipped class completely. It would have been less hurtful."

He apologized too, causing her to glance back up, her lip nibbled softly by her lower teeth. "I. I did notice. It's rather... odd." She cleared her throat with that, shaking her head. "No. I won't keep. I won't keep bringing up those thoughts for you, reminding you of her. It hurts you. And what kind of person does that make me?"

She faintly let a smile come through as he told her it was alright to continue on in his class. "Thank you, sir." She pulled her own bag back over her shoulder, pausing as he started to speak once more. A curious look came to her face as he asked for help on his new home, that thin smile growing a bit more. "I'm not afraid of you, sir. I was just afraid that I had done something terribly wrong, something incredibly stupid. And. Well, I guess I did. But I swear it will never happen again. If helping out with the new place can show my apology, perhaps even help you to clear out those remaining thoughts of- ah. Well, the things I remind you of... Then I think we might both be better off." She nodded again with that, looking back to him. "I'll gladly help, Professor. I'm free later this afternoon, after my Children's Literature class. If you can text me the address, I'll take a cab right over after it."

She started to move away from the desk, pausing for a brief moment. "And, sir? Considering all that I've seen and picked up from what she's done to you... I don't think you went too far. I get that you're angry, and I made it worse with this. With what my father did after the divorce, I know that sometimes things get a bit. Overwhelming. If I even made cookies that she used to, he would get furious." She took a breath, then gave him a smile. "Just. Let me know if something I do is too close to a reminder, okay? Prevent it before it goes too far. I don't want to be another her in your face all the time." She was now headed for the door, resting her hand upon the knob and opening it a bit. In the hall, Tom was waiting, a smile on his face as she stepped out.

He took her hand, making Becky's smile grow a bit more. The two had been hanging out on and off between classes for a few days now, Becky starting to feel rather comfortable with him. Professor was a very nice guy, but- he was a teacher. That just wasn't allowed. Tom, on the other hand...

 

[Bevatoria]

As always, Adam was grateful for his short Fridays. With only one lecture after his Introduction to Political Theory, and no tutorials or office hours to keep him at the school, he was a familiar sight to be buzzing out of the building at around 2:30 PM. The rest of the week, he was lucky to get home before 6:30, even with his ridiculously early Tuesdays and Thursdays. Everyone knew even with his early Fridays that Adam was a hard worker.

It wasn't that he had a lot to prepare for in terms of Becky's arrival; only making sure he had money to cover her fare. He wasn't about to let a starving student pay for her cab ride on a personal favor. One only needed to look inside his main foyer to see where a feminine touch was needed. Throw rugs, blankets, and pillows were cast on random spots on the floor. Pictures and personal items were all either set aside or hung in the first noticeable opening with no sense of pattern or coloring. Scented candles sat in a pile on the kitchen counter, unused and unstored, with air fresheners. Utility was something Adam was good at, appearance, though...that had always been Catherine.

He sent a text to Becky, giving him his address, adding a note 'please don't feel like you have to change - the dress flatters you.' He was careful not to lay it on too thick; she probably had changed by now anyways but it didn't hurt to try. What she wore wouldn't matter, anyways.

With everything as set (or as unset) as it needed to be, he trotted down into the basement, the cold air from the unfinished area breezing over him. His punching bag hung in one corner of the open area, the only area occupied aside from a few boxes he wasn't able to find room for. Several solitary light bulbs dotted the area, with simple pull chains their only activation for the moment. A solitary support pole also stood up in the other area, near a ground facing window.

Adam walked over to the boxes, surprised at how cold and damp it really felt down here, before finding a familiar black bag. He unzipped it, ensuring it contained the one item that Becky had seen (unknown to him) - a red ball gag - and several she hadn't. Not the least of which were handcuffs, nipple clamps, dildos and vibrators, and a black blindfold.

The bag sat atop a black whip. Adam hid the whip, but contented himself with zipping the bag shut, thinking that Becky wouldn't know what was really inside of it.

He went back upstairs, taking only a moment to pour himself a glass of water, busying himself with some lesson planning before his doorbell rang...

 

[PollySays]

A quick lunch with Tom, just a stop for a burger and soda in the cafeteria. Strange, though, how she couldn't bring herself to sit in the seats she and Tourast had taken that first day. Almost as though she felt guilty to take that spot with another. Tom was talking. She didn't hear. Not a word.

"I need to go."

It was sudden, blurted as she stood up, her lunch left with only a few bites missing and a dumbfounded boy across from it. Becky made her way out of the lunch space, the broken bag over her shoulder as she winded her way back to her dorm. Change. Get out of this. It would haunt her until she did, that look on his face. The anger and hurt.

He had scared her. She had lied. He had scared the absolute hell out of her.

But. She felt a need to rectify. Those nights of her past, her father trying to soothe her after witnessing his furious outbursts at the thought of her mother. His hugs and whispers on how she just reminded him so much of her. Professor's angered words. It was the same.

She pulled a different outfit from her closet; a buttonup polo dress, blue and red stripes. Quickly changing, a pair of slip on sneakers taken up with it, peeking back to her bed as the tiny chirp of her phone went off.

Tourast. His address.
And an allowing of the dress to stay? She shook her head, setting the phone back down. No. Can't do that. Just can't. They needed to go. She couldn't keep them. She learned that quickly this morning.

Becky was soon at the main hub before the dorms, hailing a cab and giving the address. The driver gave her a look with it, as though doubting the area she spoke of, before pulling out. The drive wasn't particulary long, but certainly wasn't headed the direction she had expected. Thoughts of gated communities, some duplex or condo overlooking the lake, all fleeting away as he drove further into the city's heart, more the area of students struggling more than herself. The cab stopped before a rather basic looking building, a touch in need of some paintwork.

He had said the place needed help, she reminded herself. Perhaps inside will feel more appropriate for him. Slipping out of the car, she made her way to the door, gently pushing the little button that sent out a quite loud buzz inside.

She smiled as he opened the door, surprised slightly at the still remaining boxes along the doorway. The things of yesterday's pawthru's? "Hi, professor," she said softly, hoping that the troubles from earlier had started to ease between them.

 

[Bevatoria]

"Hi, professor."

Her voice was tentative, echoed by her nature as she looked into his humble abode. Humble was the right word for it - even with the boxes not unpacked, this was not a house to raise a family in. This was for someone who just needed something temporary, a place to get by in until they moved on to something better. Adam opened the door slowly, moving to the side to let her in. "Welcome to my home..." Again, there was bitterness in his voice, although it was clearly not directed at the young student in front of him. He noticed she'd changed again, and found himself relieved, and disappointed, at the same time.

"I had a larger house, once. It was perfect." Another sigh. "An upper class community, families on all sides, space for everyone to...be themselves." He closed the door behind her. "Now, I'm in a run down location barely suitable for one person..." He looked up at her. "..but there's no use dwelling on that now."

He frowned for a moment. "Can I get you anything before we begin?" Even as she answered, he fumbled for his wallet. "Wait...just to get this out of the way." He handed her some money that would be more then ample for his request. "Money for your cab fare. I insist." He held it out to her, the last two words with a bit of the force he'd learned to put in his voice over the years; enough to persuade, but not enough to scare.

With that little hassle out of the way, he moved into the living room. "I admittedly haven't thought this through entirely, but as you can see, I've got a lot of things just lying around." He motioned to the throw rugs, pillows, blankets, and decorative items put wherever there is room. "I basically have no sense of style when it comes to house decorating, so I was hoping you could...direct me." He smirked. "I'm hoping to keep your labor to a minimum and have you just tell me what to do."

"So just tell me what you think looks good, and I'll oblige." He felt his neck chafing against his collar, and he unbuttoned his collar's button without thinking about it. "Those candles, for instance....I know those could come in handy, but I'm never sure what to do with them when I'm not using them...."

 

[PollySays]

"No, no, I think it's. Nice. A little place to let your thoughts be. I'll do my best to help you make it feel more comfortable, than just. A bed." Becky smiled again, though hesitated as he held out some money. "Sir, really, I-" A firm tone cut her off, the look of someone refusing no as an answet resting upon his face. She sighed softly, taking the cash and stuffing it into her purse. "Yes, sir."

Following him inward, she glanced around, already trying to think of ways to help out. "A glass of water would be wonderful, professor. Thank you." The candles caught her eye, peeking back around. "That fireplace. Does it work? I saw this beautiful display were someone had put candles of various sizes in theirs. It looked so amazing. Perhaps we can do that with yours? Lots of colors here, it could look rather interesting." She picked one up, taking a quick pass by her nose. A faint vanilla scent.

"To be fair, I've never really decorated a place before, but I have peeked and pawed through a number of decorating magazines, and used to be obsessed with those home makeover shows." His living room area seemed sparse, a little couch and lamp, a chair. The big box of books suddenly came to mind, another idea from her magazine wanderings. "Your bigger, thicker books. An encyclopedia set, maybe? Stacked up and a flat of glass, they would make a little side table for you!"

She was starting to get into it now. Finding ways to use what he had in new useage, peeking into the boxes of items he wanted out but couldn't find spots for. Repurposed, left for display in new ways. Pulling his pile of throw pillows together, she pushed them together along the wall by his chair, draping one of the bigger blankets over it. "A makeshift beanbag crash pad." She smiled at him as she straightened up. "I bet all your students have one. Now, you do too." She grinned, giggling softly before glancing around, a finger rubbing her lower lip in thought, taking in the small space of his kitchen. Stepping closer, she peeked up, inspecting the ceiling. "You could use a potrack out here, professor. Do you happen to have an old onesided ladder? We can reuse it there." She glanced at him, smiling again.

Turning back to inspect their work so far, she rested a hand on her hip, nodding a little. "So far, so good, right? A bit more comfortable?"

 

[Bevatoria]

No sooner then Adam had handed Becky her water then she got to work.

"That fireplace. Does it work? I saw this beautiful display were someone had put candles of various sizes in theirs. It looked so amazing. Perhaps we can do that with yours? Lots of colors here, it could look rather interesting." He pursed his lips in thought; that would draw some attention to the mantle, and it wasn't as if he was doing anything *else* useful with it. He moved some of the random items on there as she continued.

"To be fair, I've never really decorated a place before, but I have peeked and pawed through a number of decorating magazines, and used to be obsessed with those home makeover shows." Another pause, as she kept thinking, her body seeming as teeming with energy as her words were right now. "Your bigger, thicker books. An encyclopedia set, maybe? Stacked up and a flat of glass, they would make a little side table for you!"

"That's the kind of utility I couldn't think of." He smirked, going for a nearby box, before remembering that he didn't have the flat of glass. File that one in for later, I guess.

Without prompting, she pulled her pillows together, pushing them together while throwing one of the larger blankets over them. He looked in confusion until she spoke. "A makeshift beanbag crash pad."

"Ah." He looked on, finally understanding as she smiled.

"I bet all your students have one. Now, you do too." Another grin, as she paused for a while before moving into her kitchen. "You could use a potrack out here, professor. Do you happen to have an old onesided ladder? We can reuse it there."

"I don't, but whoever was in this house before did have some shelves we could use for the same effect. Not precisely in line, but..."He almost started for the basement, but remembered that he had mostly cleared out the basement except for the few items he kept there now. "I'll go grab them." He returned a moment later, and he put the pots in some semblance of order. It was nice to not have to stack them all one inside the other to save space. And a lot easier to remember what was where.

Adam watched as she stepped back, placing her hand on her hip. "So far, so good, right? A bit more comfortable?"

"Yes. Comfortable." It wasn't a word he'd used often lately, but as he watched his eager student eying him, he knew that was right. But Adam knew this was just a front. It all was, as he eyed the empty rack where several ladles, spatulas, and large spoons sat, disorganized.

"I was wondering if you had any thoughts on where to hang those, too." Despite himself, a laugh came out. "I definitely don't mean to reinforce the notion of women being in the kitchen-" Adam knew he could cook most people to shame, and had often in his household. "-but I'm used to just finding things where they are. Not deciding, if you know what I mean..." That was a bit of a lie, as he actually hadn't had much time to organize anything, this afternoon was to be the first true free time he'd had since his lightning move, not counting the many sleepless nights he'd had so far.

That, and he needed to leave things for Becky to do. Anything to keep her here longer.

"I'd also like your opinion on where I should put the table...it seems to close to the window but I like the sunlight coming in, and the view of the stars...what few I can see at night." He groused. It sat fairly close to a back picture window, the walls arched out slightly as if the planners had intended it that way. What could charitably be called 'decent' curtains were currently pulled to the side, their color a modest off-white. If he had planned on staying here long term, he'd have them replaced. Hell, he'd do a *lot* to this house.

After a moment or two, they were all but done with the kitchen, and Adam found himself embarassed with the notion that they didn't have much left to do. Just the entertainment room with his teleivsion and...

"Oh, one other thing, Becky." His voice went low for a moment, and he stepped in closer. "I appreciate that you're willing to help, but I also need you to be..discrete about who you tell about this." A dry smile came to him as he continued. "I don't need to tell you how some people might get the wrong idea if they heard about you coming over to my house during my divorce..." He laughed a little after he said it, shaking his head.

"All we've got left after this is the entertainment room, with my television and sound system." He turned to her knowingly. "The basement is unfinished, and upstairs all I have is my bedroom, the bathroom, and the spare room, which is mostly empty for the moment." As if on cue, he felt his bladder reminding him that he hadn't relieved himself all day. "Which reminds me...." He sighed. "I'll just be a moment using the washroom - please, make yourself at home." He made his way to the stairwell, the steps creaking as he walked out of sight.

 

[PollySays]

"Perfect!" Becky smiled as the shelves were brought in, climbing up onto the counter to help put them into place. The mention of the utensils brought a quick frown, studying them for a moment, then had an idea. Some of his office supplies could be recycled that way! She pawed through one of the boxes, taking out a few holders and such, placing them on the counter and sliding the spatulas, whisks, turners and such into place.

"There. Now they're in grabbing range, but still out of the way." She glanced over at him, watching as he took to another task, and she was soon offering to help. More little projects were taken up, Becky helping with his table, some lights, some other small things- and larger ones.

"Phew!" Becky returned to her glass of water, taking a long sip of it as he suddenly gave her a stern look, moving closer. She peered over the glass with a slightly worried look, swallowing as she set the glass aside. "Y...Yes sir?"

Oh. Things on the divorce. Her coming to his place.
"Of course not, sir. People would get a terribly wrong idea. Everything is always scandals and conspiracy for people anymore. No one ever believes someone just wants to be helpful." She shook her head, then smiled up at him. "Not a peep. I promise."

He listed off the spots left to work on, Becky's brows raising a bit. Just those left? It sounded like she was going to be here most of the night! Still, she had agreed to help. And it wasn't like it was that hard to get a cab back to the dorms.

A tiny laugh came as he suddenly excused himself for the restroom, nodding as he started for the stairs. Peeking into the other room, she curiously wandered about, trying to plan out the further ideas for the rooms. His sound system! Maybe some music would help to pass the time a bit better. She reached over, trying to figure out what remote handled which machine.

The television clicked on. A bare blue screen.
"Ah! No, not you! Music!"
She tried again. The DVD player beeped, a red light turning on as the disc inside whirred to life.
"Too many remotes!"
Becky fumbled again, finally finding the stereo's controls.

But even as the Blues Traveller song came playing out, she was suddenly oblivious to it. The TV. The video. That dirty movie.

She paled, then reddened, flailing for the remotes once again. Turn them off, turn them off now, before he came back down. "Off, off!" She threw the remotes back into the chair, simply rushing over to the two electronics and trying to find the off switches on them. Electrical cords! Yank those! She reached down quickly flicking off the power strip beside the stand as she heard that creaking stair once again.

Oh god please tell me he didn't hear any of that, see any of that.... She drew a breath, trying to act casual as she picked up a blanket from one of the piles in the corner of the room, fidgeting with it as she tried to lay it over the chair.

 

[Bevatoria]

Adam's mind was playing tricks on him. He could've sworn he heard music as he was in the bathroom, the faint wafting of Blues Traveller coming through the thin floor as he washed his hand. Another moment confirmed to him that, no, he wasn't going crazy, that someone was playing music in his house. Becky, he thought, shaking his head. Wanting to play some music.

As the bathroom door cracked open, he remarked at two things. One, at how the sound carried in this small house of his; he was very fortunate to be living alone, and thus having no need for any kind of sound proofing. The second was what he heard with the music. A slap. A scream. Quick, punctured moans and wails, subdued but still clearly there, and he stopped dead on the stairwell. Somehow, she'd managed to catch part of the DVD he was watching. The one he'd had in last the night before.....

This wasn't in the plan. Adam waited, dead still and silent as he heard his equipment turn off. He stayed there for what felt like forever, but was actually only a few seconds, his mind racing. Yeah, he'd intended to act out his dark desires on her, but not like this. Not with her panicking and running, and him forced to improvise. The fact she hadn't moved yet indicated she was just as scared as he was. Adam knew that he had to act on that, one way or another, and he took another quick moment to compose himself before making his way back down.

Less then a minute had passed between the music playing and him coming to stand in front of his student. Becky was trying to act natural, but it was ever so clear that she was a deer in the headlights. She was too stiff, too awkward as Adam strolled in casually.

"What's wrong, Becky?" As he looked at her curiously, he wondered if this was what psychopaths felt like when they talked to their victims, looking around casually. "Were you trying to turn on the music?" He eyed the power bar along the wall, somewhat askew and turned off, letting the tension sit in the air for a moment as he knelt towards it.

"All you did was turn it off." He clicked the bar back on, watching every electronic of his come back to life. "Silly." He smiled as if he was lecturing a small child, a hand going to turn off the DVD player that was coming to life. "Don't need that on, do we?" A similar motion turned off the TV. "I paid enough in power bills at the last house, thank you very much." He chuckled, needing to see some sort of reaction from her before they continued, as he turned the music on to a comfortable volume, the 'Blues Traveller' song ringing through again.

"If you're done rearranging my electronics, maybe you can help with the more decorative aspects of this room..." He decided then, that maybe she *could* help him with the spare room after all. And, thought Adam darkly, maybe he could show her the basement, and some of the items he held down there...

But not before the time was right. Becky might have inadvertently bumped her timetable forward with her stunt; she wouldn't be comfortable around him anymore, he knew.

 

[PollySays]

Becky looked up hesitantly as he reentered the room, attempting a quick smile. "I, um. I accidentally turned it on." A lie. She had been trying, but not to do that. Just to get the radio on, just to get some noise as they worked. It had only been an innocent attempt to make their work a bit more enjoyable. But the movie. That hadn't been intended at all. That quick momentary clip lingered in her mind now, the gagged woman, the man behind her.

He had watched that. It was his movie. She'd seen it the other day. But to know he really viewed it... And recently, for it to be in there- it left her stomach in knots. She wasn't without her own hidden things, not in the least. but seeing it like that. Almost caught seeing it. It was overwhelming.

"Oh, no, that's alright, I don't really care for that song anyway!," she hastily noted, grimacing as he knelt to turn on the power strip. Her hand left the blanket, nervously nibbling her thumbnail as he stood back up, chiding her as he clicked off the reawakening player. "Y-yeah. Oops. Uh. Sorry."

Sorry I saw your porn. Sorry I put this situation to such a weird spot.

"The- room? Oh, the room! Right!" She folded the blanket back up, laying it on the chair and looking around. Maybe it could help get her mind off. All that. "Well, let's se. We could make a mural wall of all these pictures, over here.." She slipped past him, mumbling a tiny excuse me as she passed between the chair and his chest to get to that far wall. After that, more little thoughts and ideas, suggestions for one of his thinner sheets to drape over a window... Her mind attempted to stay wrapped in her work, butkept recalling that sound every time she looked in his eyes.

That woman's cry.

"So. How are we doing?" She tried to keep her voice unwavering, giving him another smile.

 

[Bevatoria]

"The- room? Oh, the room! Right!" He smiled at her eagerness, hiding the fact he was smiling at the game they were playing now. Her pretending she hadn't seen anything, and Adam pretending he hadn't known she'd seen it. "Well, let's see. We could make a mural wall of all these pictures, over here.." she continued, barely muttering as she moved past him to get to the wall. Adam had intended to be the labour in this arrangement, but he was now content to watch her, to think about what was to come...and to savor the road there.

They worked for a little while longer in that room, her tentative suggestions going with his eager responses, his easy laugh contrasting with her uneasy gestures and movements. It seemed like she could look at the work, but not at him, and while he was fairly certain he knew why, he ignored it. Adam didn't mind her looking away; she'd be seeing his eyes plenty later.

"So. How are we doing?" She asked, with the television room done. Again, the uneasy smile, her voice just a little nervous as she asked. Adam hesitated, as if not sure about giving his approval to her, before nodding.

"Looks good, Becky. You really know what you're doing." His expression went easier again, tilting his head. "Do you need anything else? Are you hungry at all?"

He nodded. "I was thinking of food later, after we were done, which you're welcome to stay for, although under no obligation to." Adam paused before clarifying. "Don't worry; we've only got one more room to do. Just the spare room upstairs...and that won't take much time." He walked into the kitchen to get his water and whatever Becky wanted. "After that, I can show you the rest of the house..." He frowned, thinking of the state of what passed for his backyard. "...such as it is, anyways."

As they moved towards the stairwell, he continued his explanation. "The only other rooms in the house are the bathroom, which we don't need to work on. There's the basement, which is unfinished - again, there's nothing we can do with that. And then there's my bedroom, which I hope I don't need to explain." He was slightly ahead of her as he moved up the stairs, and he smiled before turning around as he spoke, his face maintaining the facade of an innocent turn of the phrase as he spoke.

"If we went in there I'd have you tied up and busy all night, I figure." The look in her eyes was delicious as he turned back around to walk upstairs before meeting her gaze again from the top of the steps.

"Coming, Becky?"

 

[PollySays]

Becky gave a quick nod at the mention of food, finding that she had managed to work up quite the appetite with the work they had been doing. There was that lingering question, however, on the little elephant that was trying to take more space in the room. Had he heard what she had found? She certainly wasn't one to judge someone based on their viewing interests, but to have that in the back of her mind on her seemingly so reserved professor was so. Unnerving.

"Another water would be great. Moving everything around is giving me quite the workout!"

Keep the smile, keep the open conversation. To spook like that might have him worried that there's something wrong between the two of you. It's not him. Just what he was watching.

"It's alright, sir. I hope I was able to help out enough to make you feel more at home here. It seems a small place, but with a little work, we've made it a bit more of a home." She glanced toward the kitchen as he called out on what remained, and the offer of a tour. Seeing that much of a teacher's home. It reminded her again of that confusion of an elementary school student. Teachers have houses? Imagine being inside one like this at that age-!

Well. Maybe not quite the same as what she was doing now. The few times she had gone trick or treating in her younger years, she had made her way to a few teachers' homes, but always managed to chicken out before hitting the steps. She was always too afraid to find out what was behind that door!

Finishing her drink, she set the cup aside, following the professor to his staircase. "Bathrooms are usually a rather private area," She agreed as they started up, a quick nod and smile given. "I'm sure you'd want something a bit more manly than my ideas of seahorses and ocean sides."

Basements weren't exactly an area she knew that well either, her father's being used as a storage zone for all his old police equipment and former exercise items. He rarely used them anymore, and she came to see the space as merely a forgotten space. The mention of his own bedroom brought about another quick nod, seeing it as a space that once again was a personal decor choice.

His wording, however.
She froze on the steps, staring up at him with widened shocked eyes. Her heart managed to leap straight into her throat, actually feeling it pound into her ears.
What horribly timed choices in wording.
The movie returned to her mind, the woman bound and gagged, the muffled shrieks.

"Coming, Becky?"

He was waiting for her, standing at the top of the stairs and watching.

"Yes sir. Sorry. Sudden. Wandering thoughts. Not sure where that came from." She took a deep breath, finishing the steps to join him. "Spare room. Okay." She followed him into the secondary room, stepping off to the side and rubbing against her neck. "Well, I guess the first thing to ask is what you had in mind for in here. A study? A little private spot? A secondary bedroom?"

 

[Bevatoria]

As she hesitated, Adam resisted the urge to go beyond the friendly smile he gave her now, having an idea from her expression the images and thoughts running through her head. Probably many of the sames ones running through his, although he imagined her choice of 'victim' would be different.

"Yes sir. Sorry. Sudden. Wandering thoughts. Not sure where that came from."

He smirked kindly. You know exactly where they came from. Of course he couldn't say that, or even imply it, lest he ruin the game they were playing. The rather demented, twisted game where she pretended she didn't know anything, and he pretended he didn't know that she knew anything. Adam was enjoying it so much that he wanted to see how long he could press it for until he finally put her where he wanted her; in the same spot the woman in the movie had been.

At his mercy.

"It's your first week of school, Becky." He watched her come up the steps approvingly. "You've got a lot on your mind. Don't think twice about it."

Another moment passed before she spoke again. "Spare room. Okay." Adam led the way into his second room upstairs, and she looked around as she rubbed her neck. "Well, I guess the first thing to ask is what you had in mind for in here. A study? A little private spot? A secondary bedroom?"

It was almost scary to him how quickly his thought pattern shifted from that of a twisted, demented divorcee to that of the homely professor who wanted his residence to be a bit more welcoming. "A bit of your first two ideas, to tell you the truth. I've always felt a study should be a personal retreat for someone." Another deep deliberate frown, as he had lied without knowing it; his real retreat was downstairs, to his punching bag, where he could vent, but one could need to retreat from the world without getting angry. "I won't have a real spare room in this house. Anyone dropping in to sleep will have to take the couch, for now...well, most people." Another sly smirk, another inappropriate innuendo.

The room had a desk, bookcase, and an old leather chair that had seen better days. An empty curtain rod flanked the window, with two sets of curtains on the floor, unused. "I wasn't sure which one suited the room better..." He looked at her. "Do you think it's better to let the sunlight in this room, or not?" One of the curtains was transparent, and had some nature patterns on it, with leaves and tress; the other was a completely solid turquoise set which would keep the sun out.

He nodded at her insight. "What about the room arrangement? I just put in the desk and bookcase where they fit...wasn't really thinking about utility at that point." Another grim laugh. "I haven't had much time to spend in here, too..."

"I do really need to replace that chair." Add that to the endless list of things to take care of once the divorce proceedings stopped. "Other then that, though..." Soon enough, they were done. It seemed like they had just started, but they had worked hard even if it had been monumentally brief.

Adam turned to her. "Thank you very much for all of your help..." He started; for all of his professional demeanour, thanking someone for help - especially a student, a female student, an attractive female student who looked like the woman he had once loved - was something that did not come easily to him, and he looked down. The dark thoughts at the forefront of his mind were not helping either.

Because I doubt I'll be thanking you later...

"...in case I forget to say it." He looked around, seeming to be hesitant. "You did say earlier you were hungry...I've got a frozen pizza I could throw into the oven, or if you had a bit more time, I could whip up some chicken penne. ."

Not that there isn't something else I'd rather be whipping...

He looked at her knowingly. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable or give you the wrong idea about our relationship." Because there was nothing inappropriate about going for coffee with her, getting her phone number. Having her text him offering to do anything for an emotionally hurt person. Helping him sort though some...very personal items. Wearing his wife's dress in class, looking better then she ever had in it. Then he'd invited her into his home, let her see his house, and was now inviting her to say for supper? No. Nothing inappropriate about that.

"If you wanted to clean up a bit before we ate, or before you went home, I'd be willing to let you use my facilities...just to wash up, or shower even...while I get our food ready." It took him a moment to realize that the words had come from his mouth, and he almost froze in place for a moment as he said it, before returning to the inquisitive look he'd had before. After everything she'd seen...why would she stay any longer then she had to?

To keep him happy. How far would she really go to throw him off the trail he was already on?

 

[PollySays]

Staying busy calmed her nerves, those questions and worries, those thoughts on what and why. His questions on what fit better, how to refit the room, they helped. Becky picked up both panels, peering out the window. Not much blocking the sun here. "The thin one lets in more light. Some natural lighting may help. A little plant right here might help too. Those can help calm you. I had some african violets on my desk at home. I just forgot to water them. A lot." She frowned, glancing at him. He was Professor. Not some insane pervert. Stop being so afraid of him! One little movie is no reason to be so spooked. She took a breath, a long held pull of air, then started to slide over the big chair at an angle beside the window. "There."

A reworking of the shelves, the bookcase, the desk. A few more boxes of books to refill said fixtures. Some nicknacks, a quick passing of a cloth over them to remove the little dust on them. A touch of it wafted, causing Becky to sneeze, a little mouselike squeak that left her reddened. "Sorry," she tittered softly, shaking her head. "Ah, I got that dust all over-!" She glanced at him as he thanked her, smiling again. "It's quite alright, sir. I've. Enjoyed this. I like doing things like this. A little rearranging can be fun. A little change of pace. I. I just wish the circumstances behind it were better." She shook her head suddenly, the dustcloth rested upon her shoulder. "And I promise, not a word of this to anyone. I'm just helping out a friend today. No one needs to know more than that."

She sniffled, rubbing her nose a little. "Ugh. Its all over me." The offer of a shower brought a thankful smile and nod. "That might help. I have slight allergies, and that's not helping." She started to take the cloth from her shoulder, setting it on his desk's corner, only to pause as he mentioned sharing dinner. Staying that long? "Um..." To take off would seem rude after their afternoon together. All he was asking for was some company for the evening, and all that waited her was a still broken computer with a package of ramen. A meal for helping seemed fair. And then home.

"That sounds nice, professor. I won't be long in the shower. Thank you."

 

[Bevatoria]

"That sounds nice, professor. I won't be long in the shower. Thank you."

Adam smiled at her, before grabbing a couple of towels from the linen closet - a medium sized one for her hair, and one for her. Instinctively, he'd grabbed a towel one or two sizes too small, imagining her with the towel wrapped around her, it barely covering her body as she dried her hair, the wet red locks cascading down her bare shoulders, her breasts heaving, droplets of water running down every exposed part of her body as she....

"You can use whatever's in the bathroom." Adam paused only to find a larger brush for her; figuring that she wouldn't want to use the small comb he used to fix his hair every morning, . "This should do. Is there anything else you need...?"

"I'll have the penne ready by the time you're done." He nodded, turning not to go downstairs, but to his room. Adam had gotten a bit messed up by their escapades, and truth be told the dress shirt he was wearing was a bit constricting. With her apparently in the shower, he quickly stripped off his top, finding a black t-shirt to replace it. He'd never wear something like that at school, but for his workouts and at home it seemed appropriate.

He took a moment in the mirror to straighten his hair, hearing the bathroom door click closed in the hallway, and the shower turning on a moment later, drawing a frown from him. Odd. Why did the door just close now? Did she not close it all the way before?With visible effort, he detoured from the bathroom, where Becky was showering, unaware of her professor's lust for her. Soon, Adam lost himself in the kitchen, preparing food for himself and his guest. Cut up the chicken, cook the pasta, fry the chicken with some spices, get the alfredo sauce ready. It was all automatic, and something he wished he could do more of now that he was alone. But it didn't seem right to prepare something and then eat it himself. It was a lot of effort when it was just you.

Another free moment, with everything simmering, to set the table; glasses, cutlery, and water. Of course, Adam would ask about wine, but that would be inappropriate for him to assume. He'd put everything together, and was mixing the pasta, chicken, and sauce . "We're pretty much ready here." He said, to nobody in particular; he thought he'd heard the shower end a while ago, and wondered how long Becky would be.

 

[PollySays]

"Thank you, sir. I shouldn't take long at all." Becky smiled softly as she took the things, heading for the bathroom. The door closed behind her, but she kept it open just a crack for a moment. She wanted to find out where he was headed. The momentary shadow that passed outside the door caused her to quickly take a breath, stepping back a bit to be sure he couldn't see her. She was still afraid that he had heard that mess with the tv, the movie. But nothing had been mentioned. Maybe it was simply that loud to her from having been so close to it? She was absolutely petrified that at any moment, he would accuse her of going too far into his things... Of trying to do too much, like what had happened yesterday...

No. That was simply an oversurge of pent aggression that she had provided an accidental fuse for. He had apologized for it, and even asked for her help today. It couldn't have been anything he could continue to hold against her... And she planned to drop those dresses off as soon as she could. Out of sight, out of mind- for both of them.

Slowly, she reached out, pushing the door closed completely with a tiny click before undressing. Her dress was hung from the towel rack, her bra, panties soon joining it. Starting the shower, she was stepping under the surprisingly strong showerhead within moments, enjoying the warmth that came from it as she rinsed away the slight dusty mess she had gotten in her hair. The shampoo had a bit of a manly scent to it, but was to be expected- after all, it was a man's shower. Finishing up, turning it off, and stepping out to wrap up in the larger towel, she was surprised to find it a touch smaller than she expected. It barely made it around her chest! Glancing into the fogged mirror with a frown, she used the secondary to dry off her hair, the still damp mess soon brushed out before tugging her clothing back on.

The smell of his cooking was starting to waft upstairs, Becky taking a deep breath and giving a soft sound of enjoyment. Oh, wow. Already she could tell Professor was a good cook. Maybe she needed to work out a deal with him. More house help if he sent over a few care packages!

That thought, however, was pushed aside as those other thoughts came in.

No. Don't start that again. Everything is fine.

Slipping her shoes back on before heading out, she took a deep breath, then headed down the steps. Her eyes widened a touch as she saw him. No dress shirt. No khakis. He looked so different. A quick smile came as he glanced over to her, Becky making her way over to peek into the dishes. "Ohh. That looks delicious, sir! Thank you so much for letting me hang out to eat with you." She picked up the glass of water, taking a sip as she watched him over the rim.

 

[Bevatoria]

"Ohh. That looks delicious, sir! Thank you so much for letting me hang out to eat with you." It was her, and Becky sipped from a glass of water as Adam dished everything up, leaving her portion a bit smaller.

"There's plenty more." He smiled handing the plate to her. "I was planning on water, but I could be convinced to bring out some wine...if you think it's appropriate." They'd passed appropriate a long time ago, but as long as she wasn't worried about boundaries then he wouldn't be either, especially since he was planning on leaving them behind soon anyways. Adam's glance lingered on her for a moment, enjoying how fresh and clean she looked, her hair still a little tousled, how he preferred it, the way the dress ran over her figure.

He sat down across from her, and raised his glass. "To little glows of light in dark places." A wistful smile fell over his face, even as he tried to cover it with a sip of his drink. "You've been very kind to me, Becky. I don't deserve it." He looked down as he started his meal, a guilty look on his face. Maybe the most honest one he would wear during the evening. "I'm glad to be reminded there are still some good people out there."

Deciding he needed to turn the conversation elsewhere, he took a few bites of his meal, letting the chicken and pasta content him for a few moments before talking again. "I was always told being a cook would come in handy...my parents wanted me to be a chef, actually...." Adam looked at her expectantly, seeing (hoping?) that her comfort level with him was growing again. She might be confused, but in a way that would make things easier for him then to have her thinking clearly.

 

[PollySays]

"Wine?" Becky looked over to the bottle he set upon the table, contemplating the option. She wasn't much of a drinker. Maybe a few beers once in awhile. A quick glance was given back to the professor, his smile seeming to warm up a bit more as she debated it. "Maybe just. A little. It's not like I have to drive home." She smiled slightly at that, nodding. "Sure. A little glass. Just enough to calm down from all that heavy work we did."

She sat down, raising up her glass with a curious look towards him with his odd toast. She gave a little smile,sipping before tasting the chicken he had dished out, a pleased noise coming from her as she closed her eyes. "Oh. Wow. Sir, this is amazing. So much better than the box meals I've been making lately. Thank you so much."

She was starting to feel more at ease. No mention of the movie at all. Maybe there had been nothing to worry about. Just an accidental click, a momentary electrical malfunction. It had been fixed for the most part before he really had a chance to see anything. All he probably knew was that she was having troubles with his entertainment system and turned off the power in a flustered panic. Standing that close to the speakers, it could have just been the overwhelming sudden sound. Yes. That made sense. That was perfectly reasonable.

"I may just have to start offering to do more favors for you, sir," She noted with a smile, glancing at him as she took up another forkful. "If you can pay me in food, I'll be over every night!" She laughed a little with that, taking the fork to her lips and chewing. As she swallowed, she started watching him. Maybe it was the fact the wine had been brought to the table, but he seemed far more at ease. A different look to his face than what she had seen all day.

"And. About today. I just figure that everyone has a time that they need a hand. A way to get past the problems they've encountered. If I can help you get past yours, then I must be doing something good."

There was still that lingering guilt.
The dress.
The anger he had shown towards her over it.
She felt so horrible about that still, the mistake she had made. It was never going to get out of her head.

"I was taught how to make Ramen. That was about it," She replied in regards to the cooking, shaking her head with a laugh as she reached for her glass once more. The wine was actually rather nice. It had been awhile since she had anything to drink. Maybe she was going after that glass a bit too fast. Time to pull it back a touch. "Dad was the king of take out. Chinese, pizza, anything that dropped a menu in our mailbox. We ended up getting it at least four times a week."

 

[Bevatoria]

...if I can help you get past yours...

Her offer of favors did little to sate Adam's growing desire, certain words still echoing in his head. He no longer felt guilt about her eagerness to please him, to 'repay' him with small offers of help, to eat his food. No part of him was appreciating her enjoyment of his creation, even as his stomach gurgled in appreciation of the next bite. He wondered if he'd skipped lunch today without even thinking about it, as Becky responded.

"I was taught how to make Ramen. That was about it," A delightful laugh escaped her as she shook her head, seeming to eye the wine carefully; less then Adam had, as he had just finished his first glass. "Dad was the king of take out. Chinese, pizza, anything that dropped a menu in our mailbox. We ended up getting it at least four times a week."

He eyed her curiously. "Expensive." Another thought came from him. "Although considering his line of work, not entirely impractical." Adam chewed for a moment before continuing. "Working for a university is not entirely good for...relationships, either, especially early on." Too much reminiscing of the past; not for him, but to keep her at ease. Becky would blanch if she knew where his thoughts were right now. "How long was your father a police officer for?"

A nod at her reply. "I've always had a lot of respect for those who work in the enforcement of law and order." Flip of a switch, and he was back to the lecturing professor, and not a twisted, dark divorcee. "It takes a lot of effort to want to be that selfless...to enforce, and not abuse." Another sly smirk, and he hid most of it behind a glass of wine. "I don't know what I'd do if I had a pair of handcuffs, that's for sure..."

"I guess that's why I went into teaching, I suppose." The meal was almost done, only a bit of the tour to go...even if their evening was far from done, as he eyed her. "Can I get you anything else...?"