"The Traveler" (closed for ManInTheLoft)

[MarieDavisRPs]

"The Traveler"

(closed for ManInTheLoft)​

It was just a typical day at First National Bank. Then, three gunmen burst in, firing their weapons in the air and at the security cameras. After that, it became just a typical bank robbery. One robber threatened the bank's patrons with a shock and awe campaign; he repeatedly pointed his assault rifle in the faces of some while using the butt of it to smack others. Another man collected wallets, purses, and cell phones, telling the patrons that their IDs would be used to hunt down anyone who tried to be a hero. The third man rushed behind the counter to force the tellers at gun point to fill his bag with bundles of cash.

One particular patron in the bank that day was a City Police Detective. He'd only been there on personal banking business. He was pretending to be nothing more than a normal everyday civilian while studying the scene for possible actions on his part. He was looking for a way to act without getting him or other patrons killed. He wasn't finding it, though.

Then suddenly, there was someone behind him who he hadn't previously seen. This person ripped his sidearm from his hip holster and pushed him. There was a pop-pop, pop-pop, pop-pop from his weapon. Screams echoed off the bank's stone and glass as the shooting began but quickly ended. As the detective regained his composure and looked to the shooter, he found her setting his weapon down on the floor at her feet before standing tall again: she was naked as the day she'd been born.

She scanned the bank, as he would do at some point. All three bank robbers were dead, each with two shots to the skull. She took a step back from the pistol, saying only, "I could use something to wear before you take me in, Detective Roberts."

 

[ManInTheLoft]

Conner Roberts hated going to the bank, any bank, and he wouldn't have been here today if he hadn't had to deposit a cashiers check in person. Hard times had forced him to sell his classic '69 Firebird, and while he'd gotten a good price for it, he'd hated to see the muscle car driving off into the sunset with someone other than himself behind the wheel.

He'd suspected a bank robbery was about to being immediately upon seeing the three suspicious men entering the bank, but as he was on his own and, likely, to be outgunned, his professional instinct had been to keep calm and see how things played out.

Although each of the three robbers had taken note of him, none of them had really paid him much attention. He'd lifted his arms out to his sides in a don't shoot me, surrender gesture and donned as frightened an expression as he thought he could pull off.

It must have been sufficient because while the thieves forced many of the customers to the floor, he was left standing off to one side of the mayhem unfolding. He kept his surveying of the unfolding activity inconspicuous, preparing to pull his weapon and begin taking down robbers when he thought it relatively safe.

But the chance never came, and then, of course, the naked woman did her thing!

On the ground, Connor just stared up at her in shock for a long moment, even after she'd set his sidearm on the floor before her. Finally, coming out of his daze, he scurried forth to take up the semi-automatic and hold it on her while also looking around for the armed men.

He found them all laying on the bank's lobby floor, big pools of blood spreading out about their heads. Again, he just stared in shock: how had she so skillfully taken out all three of them in, what, less than three seconds?

He looked back to the naked woman, trying to keep his eyes high but failing horribly. He'd seen naked women before, of course; he'd probably seen more than his share. But this woman was standing in the middle of a crowded bank stark as naked after having shot down three armed men. None of this made sense!

Then she calmly told Connor, "I could use something to wear before you take me in, Detective Roberts."

And again, there was no sense to be found. He finally rose to full height, his gun still on her though his trigger finger was resting on the outside of the weapon as was proper for safety in such a situation.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, but before she could even open her mouth to speak, he asked, "Who the hell are you? And ... how the hell...?"

Connor wasn't even sure exactly what he'd been about to ask her, but the continuing mayhem around him caught his attention finally. Some of the customers and even a couple of bank employees were heading for or already had headed out the exit in panic; some of the others were tending to those who'd been knocked to the floor by gun butts or had been injured in other ways.

Moving from one wannabe bank robber to the next, Connor seized their weapons, removed clips and rounds from their firing chambers, and then checked for heart beats. With that much blood spreading across the marble floors, he didn't expect to find any of the three alive, and he wasn't disappointed. Good riddance.

When he turned back to the woman, Connor found one of the bank employees helping her into a trench coat. He moved back to her, pulling his handcuffs from the the hip opposite his holster. With a rather reluctant tone, he said, "I'm sorry, but I need to put these on you for the moment ... until we know exactly what's going on here."

The woman held her hands out before her, and while he should have pulled her hands around to her back, he clicked the bracelets around her wrists before her instead. He took her to a nearby chair, search the bag laying beside one of the dead men for his phone, and called into his Precinct to report what had happened.

After explaining and, because of the outrageous nature of the shooter, then explaining again, he ended the call and moved back to the woman who was just sitting there calmly, watching him. He looked her over again with an appreciative expression. The trench coat still allowed for the showing of her cleavage and long legs.

"Are you cold?" he asked, wanting her to believe he'd been checking out her exposed body for reasons other than simply wishing the coat hadn't been offered so quickly. "We can probably find you a blanket or something."

She responded, and Connor went quickly to the question he'd asked before yet hadn't gotten an answer to: "How do you know my name? I mean, I don't recognize you. Have we had dealings with each other before ... professionally ... personally?"

Connor's greatest fear was that he and the beauty had been lovers at some time in the past and he just wasn't placing her now. There had been times in his life, from college to the Academy to his rise through the ranks, that he'd had problems with drinking and waking the next day in bed with women he couldn't remember having picked up in the first place.

But no, she'd called him Detective Roberts, not Connor Roberts or just Connor. Her familiarity with him wasn't personal and was more likely professional in nature, which meant she could have been any one of hundreds, thousands of people he'd interviewed or interrogated over his 12 years as a cop.

Still, looking again at her cleavage and legs again, that didn't explain how she'd ended up gunning down three crooks with his gun while standing there naked as could be.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"How do you know my name?" Connor asked, quickly adding, "Who the hell are you? And ... how the hell...?"

"My name is Marie," she responded calmly. She showed no concern regarding her nakedness. As Connor went about securing the scene, a woman came over with her boss's trench coat, putting it over her shoulders. Marie smiled to her, saying softly, "Thank you."

"I'm sorry, but I need to put these on you for the moment," the Detective said, holding out the cuffs, "until we know exactly what's going on here."

"Of course," she said, offering her wrists out before her. Her lips were still in a polite smile as she told him, "I understand."

She sat there alone and, for the most part, ignored for several minutes until Connor returned. "Are you cold? We can probably find you a blanket or something."

"I have my sweat suit in my gym bag," one of the tellers offered from nearby. "They're clean. I was going to the gym after work."

As the woman went off to get the clothing, Connor asked how Marie knew him. She smiled and, as if she'd read his mind, said with humor, "Don't worry, Detective. I'm not one of your nameless, faceless sexual conquests."

She hesitated while some uniformed officers entered quickly with weapons drawn, checking in with Connor. When the Detective returned to her, Marie said, "We should probably talk about this privately ... after you take me to your car ... the black 2019 Charger Pursuit parked illegally, by the way, in the loading zone across the street."

Marie watched for his reaction, then added, "License plate number 992 RRT I believe. Oh, and I believe you have a tail light out. Left side?"

 

[ManInTheLoft]

Connor couldn't help but chuckle and, to be honest, be a little relieved when Marie told him she wasn't some woman he'd fucked and forgotten. But when she suggested they go out to his new ride and then described it in detail, he was once again freaked out.

"How can you know that?" he asked quietly but not without surprise in his voice. "I only bought that car yesterday and haven't even registered it in my name yet. And the tail light, I only busted that out this morning on accident."

He stepped closer and asked with a touch of growl as he indicated the scene behind him, "Are you involved in this? I mean, were you working with these guys, the guys you killed? Did you know I was going to be here?"

He didn't see how that last question could possibly be a yes, and the other questions were likely no's as well. But there was just something not right about this situation and her knowledge of things she shouldn't have been able to know.

The bank employee with the offered clothing arrived, and Connor unshackled Marie to allow her to more easily change. He turned his back so as to not ogle her again, only to see a pair of Feds enter, responding to the bank robbery which would normally be their domain.

"Stay with her," he said to one of the female patrol officers who'd responded. He took one last peek back, drawing and releasing a hungry breath, before telling the officer, "Don't let her out of your sight while I talk to these guys."

He spent a couple of minutes giving the Feds the details, glancing back to Marie a couple of times and gesturing their attention to her. When they told him that they wanted to question her at the local Bureau office, he quickly reminded them that no money had left the bank.

"This is a case for the homicide division," he argued, "which means that it's my case, not yours."

They argued the merits of his claim a couple of more minutes, but in the end the Feds were more than happy to let Connor keep the case. One pointed out what he believed, "These guys were first timers. Nothing I see here seems to be associated to other bank heists, so until we find out that this was connected to another job, you can keep the case."

Connor thanked them, promised to keep them in the loop, and returned to lift Marie from her chair and head her for the door. He said softly to her, "You and I gotta talk."

He put Marie in the passenger seat his Charger and got them away through the blocked off streets, telling her, "Spill it. How do you know me, how did you know I was going to be there today? Did you know that robbery was going to happen?"

And looking to her again, feeling sorry that she was no showing nearly no skin, Connor asked, "And what the fuck were you doing in the bank naked today?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"How can you know that?" Connor asked, speaking about how he'd only just purchased and then damaged the car. She began to respond, but he interrupted her, asking if she was involved, then, "Did you know I was going to be here?"

"Yes, I did, Detective Roberts," she admitted. She added, "I know more about you than you can imagine."

The woman arrived with some clothes. She stood, reached her shackled hands out. "It would be easier..."

He uncuffed her, assigning a uniformed police officer to keep an eye on her. As he began to turn, Marie shrugged the trench coat from her shoulders, letting it drop to the cold floor around her feet. She was obviously unconcerned about who got a peek or even a long, hungry ogle at her naked body. Connor got a peek, too, but unlike many of those spread throughout the bank, he managed to pull his eyes away quickly. Marie slipped into a cropped tank top and a pair of sweat bottoms. The woman providing the clothes was smaller in every dimension, making the cloth fit Marie like a second skin. When Connor returned, she found herself cuffed again and being pulled toward the entrance.

"You and I gotta talk," Connor told her. In his car as it pulled away he began his interrogation about her knowledge of him and her part in the robbery. Before she could answer, though, he also asked, "And what the fuck were you doing in the bank naked today?"

"Only biological matter can pass through the machine," she answered. Connor gave her the reaction she expected and she continued, "Flesh and blood, Detective. Nothing else will pass through the time transfer device, not clothes, guns, money ... not that we use money anymore, of course, but if we did, we couldn't bring it with us."

She hesitated again, then spelled it out, "I am from the future. From what for you would be this exact day, 23 October, in the year 2488."

 

[ManInTheLoft]

Marie's comment about knowing more about him than he could imagine sounded ominous. What she said in the car was flat out insane. "I am from the future. From what for you would be this exact day, 23 October, in the year 2488."

"Yeah, okay, be that way then," he said, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the road. "Get you printed and booked and maybe sneak a DNA swab in there before your lawyer has a chance to object, and maybe you'll answer some questions once we know who you are."

Connor glanced over at Marie between watching the road as he told her with a serious tone, "You realize that you're facing three possible counts of 2nd degree murder, right? What you did back there, that doesn't fall into any sort of stand your ground category or justification defense. Unless you get very lucky with a great attorney and a friendly jury, you're looking at hard time."

Again, Connor glanced at her below the neck, chuckled, and said, "And unless you've got some big time money hidden someplace only a cavity search would find it, I don't think you can afford that kind of attorney."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"Yeah, okay, be that way then," Connor said, dismissing Marie's fantasy story about being from the future. He spoke about the charges she was facing, then joked about her lack of pockets for the kind of money she was going to need to get out of this level of trouble.

Marie only turned her attention to the passing city, marveling at the difference between the way it looked now and how it looked in her time. She couldn't even begin to describe the horrors the people of the 25th century faced. And those horrors could be laid at the feet of the human beings living here between the mid 20th and late 21st centuries.

At the station, Connor turned Marie over to the Booking Sergeant, who put her in the system as the Detective had warned her. She gave her full name and occupation as Lieutenant Marie Davis of the United Nations Time Transfer Bureau. Her birthdate resulted in just as many laughs: 11 August 2465. Marie was printed and photographed, and when the Sergeant asked if she would volunteer a DNA sample, she opened her mouth and playfully said, "Ahhhh...."

Less than an hour after arriving at the precinct, Marie was in a cell and getting in some badly needed sleep. The next morning she was in a van heading farther downtown for arraignment. At that same time, Detective Connor Roberts was arriving for work again to the razzing of the cops who hadn't already made fun of him the day before. The jokes included whether or not he'd frisked her for concealed weapons, whether or not she was gonna give him shooting lessons, and whether this was the first time he'd handcuffed a naked woman and not fulfilled her needs.

The Booking Sergeant chastised the other officers about getting back to work. He called Connor over, telling him, "In case you were curious, naked bank chick's missing."

Connor's reaction was one of surprise for obvious reasons. The Sergeant explained, "Legal Aid lawyer tried to convinced the judge to give her bail, but without a proper identification, address, yadda yadda, the judge said no. Lawyer asked for a psych eval', judge said sure, and they loaded her for Marston Medical. She gets there, they put her in a rubber room ... two hours later they come back to give her her meds ... she's gone."

The Sergeant had opened a file while talking to Connor and pushed it across the desk toward him. "Something else, too. No prints in the system, anywhere. That new guy up on the 4th floor, with the database that hooks into just about fuckin' everything ... nothing from him either. Nothing from the Feds. Nothing regarding security clearances or permits for employment. This woman's never been printed as far as I can tell.

"Also, nothing on facial rec'. I had the 4th floor run her that way, too. Nothing. All we got now is the DNA, and that won't be back for six day, minimum. I don't know who this woman is, but she ain't on anyone's radar."

 

[ManInTheLoft]

Connor found himself a bit sad to be handing Marie off to the Booking Sergeant, knowing he wasn't likely to be treated to another strip tease from her again. They guys upstairs were, as expected, entirely inappropriate about the whole thing.

One good thing about a division that was majority male, though, was they'd already been trading amongst them a couple of dozen cell phone pics of Marie in the buff. The first round had been taken by patrons and employees of the bank, while the second round had mostly been taken by the patrol officers and detectives who'd arrived after the action was over.

"She's all over the internet already," one of the Homicide Detectives told him. "They're calling her Naked Bank Chick among others. One site called her Annie Gets Yer Gun'off. I think they were talking about your gun, Connor ... and I don't mean your Glock, either."

There was a loud round of laughter. One of the cops turned his computer monitor so Connor could see it, telling him, "This one's got you in it, Slick. Is that an extra clip in your pocket, or..."

"Fuck off, you infants," Connor called back, trying not to laugh but failing.

He dropped into his desk despite being off the clock and began his paperwork, wanting to get things down while they were fresh in his mind. His computer dinged with an incoming email, and when he opened it he called out, "Okay, how the fuck did someone create that so quick."

On his screen was a grainy bank surveillance picture of him with his hands up. But then, laid over his image, was one of the cell phone images of Marie such that it looked like she was immediately in front of him.

The asinine 4th floor techie had manipulated the image such that Connor's hands were moving in over Marie's tits as if squeezing them, causing her eyes and mouth to open wide as an added female computer voice called out with each squeeze, "Playing cops and robbers was never like this."

"Assholes," Connor murmured to himself, closing the email. Then, after looking to ensure no one was watching, he sent the email to his phone, where it joined the pics he'd already received in texts.

Connor did the basic paperwork and, because it was his day off, saved the rest until the next day. When he got home, he made a sandwich, drained one beer, opened another, and headed to the shower. He did, of course, grasp his cock and work it with a sufficient helping of suds until he was splashing cum upon the old tile wall.

He hit the sack after watching the game, only to find himself rubbing out another one with his right hand as his left hand held his phone on which the best of the shots of Marie was filling the screen.

He got to work the next day expecting to complete the paperwork on Marie, only to be told she'd escaped the mental health facility.

"Something else, too," the Sergeant said, explaining about how they'd totally failed at identifying Marie, assuming that Marie was even her name. "I don't know who this woman is, but she ain't on anyone's radar."

"Well, she's on mine now," an angry Connor said.

He went upstairs, finished only the bare minimum of paperwork on the case, then called the Feds. They had nothing more to add, except for their disappointment and astonishment in Marie's escape.

He headed for Marston Medical where he grilled anyone and everyone who might know something. Most of the staff from the night before was off now, though, so Connor had to take the questioning to their homes. It took him three days of at home, at hospital, and at precinct investigation to get the truth of what had happened:

One of the Marston orderlies had been having quiet conversations with Marie through her cell room's window. No one had caught much of any one conversations, but between the bits some had heard and the strange things the orderly had said, they'd concluded that Marie was giving him gambling tips, such as horses to put money on at the Off Track Betting site just down the road from the hospital or what numbers to pick in that night's Pick 4.

Later than night, the orderly had returned, claiming he'd left his wallet in his locker. And when they checked on Marie to give her her pills, she was gone. There was little doubt at all that the orderly had had something to do with the escape, particularly since he, too, was missing and his appearance at the OTB with strange bets that won had been verified.

Five days later, the orderly was arrested after buying a brand new Harley Davidson cruiser. There was still no sign of Marie, though, after more than two weeks.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(OOC: I don't know if anyone is reading along with our story, but I've already informed my writing partner of one change I want to make. I'll inform you of it now, too. I want my character to be known by an alias for the rest of the story: Marie Davis. Obviously, I've already used that name for her, so you all are just gonna have to pretend that I used another name for her earlier. Let's make it Mary Donner for the hell of it.)


Marston Medical, Detention Wing -- 14 days ago:

"You're Marvin, right?" Marie asked softly after she'd been left alone with just the one orderly. His name was on his uniform, of course, but Marie knew of his presence on the staff from the historical record. She asked, "You like to play the ponies. They still call it that, right?"

He looked to her room's doorway, fearful that his coworkers might have overheard. Looking back to her, he asked, "What of it."

"Run like the Wind in the fourth," she told him. "Race starts in just under an hour, so you better get your bet in now. She'll be a 22 to 1 long shot at the start of the race."

"Yeah, right," he said, finishing his work in her room before leaving. An hour and a half later, his face appeared outside her room's window. He stared inside for a moment before he entered. "How the fuck? You got someone at the track maybe?"

"What time is it?" she asked. Marvin checked his watch and told her. She informed him, "The Pick 4 at 10pm. The numbers'll be 2, 14, 21, 36. Hurry."

Marvin stared at her a long moment. He checked his watch again. He attempted to act casual as he left not just her room but the campus itself. He hurried three blocks down the avenue to the nearest State Lottery owned location. He got his ticket scanned just 20 seconds before closing of the lottery game. Ten minutes later, Marvin was walking out $45,000 richer: $1,000 of it was in hundred dollar bills -- the max cash payout allowed -- and the rest of it in a State issued cashier's check.

He returned to Marston, got chastised for not being at his post, shrugging it off with a Whatever. An hour later, during Security's switch to Graveyard Shift, Marvin slipped Marie out the backdoor. He got her a cheap motel room, and the next day they visited the OTB again. Marie gave Marvin a tip on a 35 to 1 long shot, he gave her the $42,000 cash winnings, and they went their separate ways. Marvin would go on to win big three more times that day: a horse race, a Bantam Weight fight, and another Pick 4.



The seedier part of town -- 8 days ago:

Marie strode into Peter's Photographic Equipment Repair just minutes after it opened and told the man behind the counter, "In less than a minute, a man who will tell you his name is Howard is going to come through your front door looking for counterfeit documents. He will tell you he's a friend of someone you know. I don't know the name of your friend, but you will."

The man just stared at her with wide eyes. Marie went on as she came around the counter, "This man is a federal agent, and if you don't act ignorant of what he's asking you for, you will spend the rest of your life in a Federal prison."

"I am ignorant of what he's asking for," the man said, hovering between confused and self preserving. "I mean, I don't know what you're talking about. And where are you going?"

"Good, that's good," Marie told him, gesturing toward his backroom. "I'm just gonna sit back here until your done with him."

The bell over the front door rang again just after Marie disappeared into the back. The Fed feigned nervousness in his approach, telling the counterfeiter that he was a friend of Ricky J's. He said, "I was told you could get me a new drivers license, passport, and credit card ... cards actually, VISA and American Express. I have cash."

As Marie listened from the other room, she heard the shop's owner counter the Agent's requests with the suggested ignorance. He told the Fed where the DMV and Social Security Offices were, adding, "I don't honestly know where you get a passport, but I'm sure they will."

The undercover patron pressed but finally gave up, not wanting to blow his cover. He left, and the counterfeiter came around the corner asking, "What the fuck? Who are you and why are you here?"

"I need documents," she said, tossing a Manilla envelope full of cash onto the table near her. "I'm asking for them, and I'm paying up front, which means this is called entrapment if I am with the Authorities, which I'm not."

The man spent the next half an hour making calls. He learned that no one had seen hide nor hair of his friend Ricky Jamieson. Others in their circle had been picked up over the last couple of days, though. He finally conceded to Marie's demands, producing her a full set of documents under the name of Marie Davis. She left after telling him he should take a week or so off, just until things cooled down.



Today:

Marie shot her brand new Ducati crotch rocket through the uncrowded, Sunday morning streets of the mostly industrial and commercial district outside the city. She was at the end of a joyous ride of about 100 miles. It had taken her from the city west through the rolling forested hills to the ocean shore and then back. But now she had things to do. She burst out of the forest onto the flat valley floor and down a straight-as-an-arrow bit of road that continued for miles.

She checked the time on the clock before her: she was going to be late. She shot the bike ahead to a speed of over 120 mph. For the next 3 minutes, she passed cars as if they were standing still. She finally let up on the throttle to slow the bike down as she approached a railroad crossing. As she reached a more legal speed, the crossing's warning lights and bells came alive. The arms began descending, and Marie narrowly made it under them. She pushed the toes of her 5 inch, spike heeled, thigh high leather boots down on the brake pedal. The exotic bike's back tire skidded over 100 feet. A trail of grayish-black smoke rose but quickly dissipated behind it. Marie let up on the brakes and continued ahead for another 100 feet or more at just a few miles per hour.

She was in the oncoming lane now as she stopped the bike, lowered the stand, and stood. A car coming at her had already been slowing for the railroad crossing. It now slowed dramatically, coming to a stop just twenty yards away from her. The driver stepped out, and was about to speak when Marie removed her helmet, letting him see who it was.

"Hello, Detective Roberts," she said as she hung her helmet over her ride's handle bar and walked his way. "It's nice to see you again."

A second car was coming up behind Connor's vehicle. Seeing that it was about to go out around, Marie stepped over into the other lane, struck a dramatic pose, and held her hand out toward the car in a stop gesture. The other driver slammed on his breaks, coming to a stop just five feet from Marie. He wailed on his horn, but Marie only blew him a kiss as she sexily shifted her weight from one side to the other.

Then, a moment later, the train began crossing the road. It certainly didn't cross as it should have, though. After the passing of more than 50 cars, something caused the last 6 cars to derail. They left the railbed, and after the lead derailed car hit entered the ditch next to the road, all 6 cars buckled and lurched and twisted and spun and just about everything else a multi-tonnage piece of loaded steel car would do traveling off the track at that speed.

The cars at the end of the train had all been empty. That would make clean up of the site easier in the days to come. The most interesting facet of the derailment was, of course, that no one had been killed at the crossing. Witnesses would speak of a seemingly crazy but prophetic motorcycle rider who stood in the middle of the road and blocked traffic. The Incident Investigator would tell the Press that possibly 9 people in three cars -- including four children under 6 years of age -- had been saved because their cars weren't any closer to the crossing than they had been.

As the horrific accident was happening behind her, Marie simply returned to her bike. She donned her helmet, stood the bike up again, and wrenched back on the throttle, spinning the rear tire. She shot ahead toward the middle of the road and slid again to a stop, this time right next to Connor.

"When you're done here, Detective," she said, peering at him with a flirty smile through her raised visor, "I'll be back down the road a couple of miles at a little mom'n'pop diner. Come join me for breakfast and coffee."

And with the roar of the engine and squealing of the tire on the pavement, Marie was gone again. She disappeared down the highway in an instant. She didn't know how long it might be before Connor showed up, if he showed up at all. She was hoping he'd show up alone and not with a whole armed response team from his precinct or from the local Sheriff's Department. But either way, she'd be sitting in a corner booth, drinking coffee, and winking to the truckers who hadn't been able to not check out her ass in her skin tight Spandex.

 

[ManInTheLoft]

Connor had pretty much given up on ever seeing the mysterious Naked Bank Chick again. For two weeks, he'd been dividing his time between searching for Marie and closing three other open homicide cases.

After making a mistake on an identity that cost him and his partner dozens of wasted hours, their boss transferred their cases to other teams and commanded both of them to take a week of vacation.

Connor remained in town most of the weekend, getting some ignored work and chores done before heading for the coastal mountains where he had a small cabin in the woods. He was barely 10 miles out of town when a motorcycle rider crossed the center line just this side of closing rail crossing arms, forcing him to almost skid to a stop to avoid hitting it.

He threw the car into park and hopped out, pulling his badge with his left hand and resting his right hand on the butt of his sidearm, which policy required him to have nearby 24/7. He'd been about to chastise the rider who was oh so obviously female when she removed her helmet.

"Hello, Detective Roberts," she said. "It's nice to see you again."

"Holy fuck," Connor murmured to himself at the sight of his missing naked bank shooter. He swung the car door shut, and while he pocketed his badge he maintained his other hand on his sidearm. Louder, he asked, "What the fuck? Where have you been? I've been looking all over for--"

Connor went silent at seeing Marie heading for the other lane, and looking to see a car coming around him was ready to holler for her to watch out. But the car slid to a stop, the driver wailing on the horn. Out before the second vehicle, Marie struck a pose that was so fucking sexy that over the next few seconds his cock would stiffen toward total hardness.

"Get out of the fucking road, Mary" he ordered, using the name she'd given back at the bank. He added, "And get your ass over here. I have questions for you."

The other driver looked to Connor, who pulled his badge out again, flashed it, and gestured him to just relax. He looked to Marie again, repeating, "Get the fuck out of the road and over here!

Beyond her, all hell suddenly broke loose as several cars left the track, running wild and uncontrolled along and into the ditch before the lead renegade struck the road bank. Later, when things called down, Connor would realize that he should have turned and ran back toward the city. But the shock of what he was seeing less than a football field from where he was standing had him frozen in place as the empty railcars twisted and turned and tumbled upon and around each other.

Connor looked to Marie, finding her seemingly calm as fuck as she walked back toward the still shiny motorcycle. He asked the driver of the car next to him if he was okay, getting a thumbs up from the obviously shocked man.

Turning, he looked to an SUV behind him, finding children hanging out of the back windows hollering things like Cool! Oh my god! and strangest of all, Do it again, daddy, I didn't see it!. He asked the man who stepped out if they were okay and got another gesture of acknowledgement.

He turned quickly at the sound of rubber being burned upon the pavement and found Marie pulling up near him in the center of the road. She told him, "When you're done here, Detective, I'll be back down the road a couple of miles at a little mom'n'pop diner. Come join me for breakfast and coffee."

"Wait a second, you're not--" he began, cut off by the cycle peeling out again and heading away down the road.

Connor gripped his sidearm's handle tighter, wanting so desperately to pull it and shoot out the bike's back tire in response to how Marie was pissing him off yet again. Instead, he went into First Responder mode and checked with the occupants of all the cars on this side of the accident, then made his way down the track to cross over and check the far side, too.

He spent almost an hour at the derailment, every second of it wanting to get down the road. Connor was sure that Marie -- Mary -- was going to disappear again, despite inviting him to join her.

When at last he was told that his presence was no longer necessary, Connor sped down the highway to what Marie had called a mom and pop diner, finding her bike sitting just outside the nearest entrance. He entered cautiously, uncertain of just what to expect from the woman: she'd killed three men with the skill and precision of a trained assassin, then escaped a medical facility's detention center and managed to stay hidden for two weeks.

He found Marie sitting in the far corner booth with food and drink before her. Looking around the place, he caught some of the men giving her glances, obviously as awed by her as he had been seeing her naked and dressed both. He made his way to her booth, standing over it for a moment.

In his best Ricky Ricardo impression, Connor said, "Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do."

The waitress approached, and Connor asked for coffee and a slice of pie. Slipping into the booth, he guessed, "You probably don't have I love Lucy in ... what did you way it was, the 25th century? You know, that's the time of Captain Kirk, too. I don't suppose you and Spock are best buddies, are you?"

He flashed her the Vulcan's famous hand greeting, saying, "Live long, and tell me what the fuck is going on, Mary."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Marie tensed a bit upon finally seeing Connor enter the diner. She casually looked out the window to her right for signs of backup but didn't see any. What was happening here and now wasn't something from her timeline. There was no way for her to know if she'd be walking out of here in handcuffs or not.

She laughed about his I love Lucy joke, telling him after he'd flashed his alien sign, "Yes, I am familiar with Lucy and Desi. And no, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting the crew of the Enterprise."

Marie couldn't tell from his expression whether or not he was surprised or not in her familiarity with the sitcoms that -- in her time -- had been centuries old. She went on, "As far as what the fuck is going on here, I told you: I'm from the future ... 2488, to be exact. And yes, that is the 25th century."

The waitress arrived with Connor's coffee and slice of pie. After she departed, Marie continued, "I was sent back to this time for a specific reason: to prevent you from being killed in that bank on 23 October 2021."

She paused as another patron passed by, a male trucker who gave her a hungry ogle. Playfully, she blew him a kiss, then chuckled at his surprise and his glance at Connor, who he probably assumed was her man. To the Detective, she continued, "The future has a need for you, Detective. You weren't meant to die that day in the bank, but you would have, had I not interceded. I'm sorry if I have caused you any ... distress by escaping custody. But, if I hadn't, you would have died today. Saving you fourteen days ago has altered the future ... your future ... meaning that I may end up having to keep a closer eye on you than I'd planned."

 

[ManInTheLoft]

Marie's claim of familiarity with the Lucy Show and Star Trek initially only convinced Connor further that she was of his time and not some future century. After all, her time travel story was total bullshit, right?

When she began talking about how she'd come here from 2488 to save his life, not just once but twice, Connor only shook his head lightly in disbelief. She told him, "The future has a need for you, Detective."

When Marie told him that she now felt more responsible for keeping an eye on him, Connor couldn't help but smirk a bit. "Hey, if you want to hang out with me more, I'm all for it. You look far better naked than my partner does when he's stripped to shower down at the gym, I'll tell you that."

He sipped at his coffee, studying her face, then her bosom which her tight fitting leather coat was boosting up and in. "So ... this machine ... this time travel machine. Only a person, a body can come through it. No clothes, no guns ... what else did you say...?

"I guess that means no IDs either, which means that you can't prove to me one way or the other that you are actually from 2488. No drivers license for your flying car or daily pass for your point-to-point transporter trips from home to the mall?"

Connor was being a bit of an asshole, obviously, but he didn't believe anything she was telling him about this time travel thing. No, time transfer is what they'd comically listed on her booking sheet under occupation.

"So, tell me about the future," he suggested, slicing his fork through the pie and stuffing his mouth full. He chewed a bit but hadn't swallowed when he continued, "I mean like, what's the waitress going to ask the next time she walks up? Or is someone gonna drop a platter of dishes and some patron's gonna call out Way to go, pal, just put that down anywhere like in Groundhog's Day?"

Connor wasn't entirely sure that that had been the exact quote from the Bill Murray classic, but it had been close enough to make his point. "I mean, how can you prove to me that you are actually from the future. And... even if you are ... what I am supposed to do with you? I mean, you used my own sidearm to kill three men during a bank robbery, then you fled custody. There's a warrant out for your arrest, Mary. I'm a cop. I'm supposed to take you back."

He was planning on doing just that, of course, as soon as he bored of the conversation. Connor couldn't even fathom how she'd done some of the things she had so far, but he knew it wasn't because she'd traveled to 2021 from almost 500 years in the future.

He was just hoping to learn more about Marie here and now, where she might be more at ease and more willing to speak openly about whatever it was that made her so unusual.