FicWad

Maya found the note and a keycard tucked between the pages of the Pink Princess show bible she'd brought with her to flip through during any boring parts of Phoenix's latest case. The Gatewater Hotel. Nine tonight. Room 513. Come alone. The note read. It was signed 'Your Anonymous Admirer', and, as if the writer had realized that the main message was too terse to be compelling, there was a postscript written in a hasty scrawl; Please come, Maya.

Maya blushed and turned in a quick circle, looking all around herself like she might somehow spot whoever wrote the note even though there was no one else in the room. She was suddenly very glad that she'd accidentally forgotten her book in the waiting room before the trial started and had to sneak back for it during the opening statements; she really wouldn't want Nick--or worse, Pearly!--peeking over her shoulder when she got a love letter.

...Or possibly a 'lure her into a kidnapping to get something out of Nick' letter.

It was kind of hard to tell the difference, but she was pretty sure that it was legit, since the only cases Nick had on the table were for petty crimes that nobody could really get that bothered about. Anyway, whichever type of letter it was it would be pretty embarrassing to read it with other people around.

Especially since there was a part of her, growing by the second as it was fed by an excited squirming in her stomach, that thought it might just be fun to go and see what was up.

- - -

She showed up ten minutes early, after coming up with some stupid excuse about making plans to hang out with Regina now that the circus was back in town to keep Nick from worrying about her. Most of the time was spent trying to convince the person at the front desk to tell her who had rented the room, but he just looked down his nose at her and kept annoyingly tight-lipped even when she showed him her keycard. Finally, realizing that she'd have to rush to make it to the fifth floor in time, she just told him to make a note for the maid to come in when it was time for her to clean the next morning even if there was a do-not-disturb sign up, and if she found Maya murdered/, or with her /kidneys stolen or tied up he'd be sorry he didn't just tell her who was up there.

As she walked off towards the elevator she heard the man muttering under his breath about crazy guests trying to use him as prop in their perverted roleplay.

When she opened the door and saw that the room was empty she was hit by a burst of disappointment that made it impossible for her to even try denying to herself that she'd wanted to see what would happen there. Then she saw another note sitting on the bed, propped up slightly by a tiny pile of fabric and the fluttering in her stomach grew stronger than ever. Undress and put on the blindfold this one started, or turn around and leave. The choice is yours. Yr. Anon. Admirer Once again there was a postscript, this time saying, If you choose to stay, you can ask to stop at any time.

It was that addendum that decided her. If she turned and ran away she was sure that whoever it was would never try anything like this again and that would be it. But if she stayed and realized that she was out of her depth she could just stop. She could stop it... and there was always the chance that she wouldn't want to.

She walked over to the window as she reached up to tug her hair from its topknot. From where she was she could see the window of Nick's office, though with the angle it was impossible to see more than the tiniest sliver of the windowsill inside. She wondered what he'd think if he knew what she was doing. She wondered if maybe he was the one lurking around somewhere waiting for her to tie the blindfold on the bed around their eyes so he could come out, then dismissed the idea; no way he'd have been acting completely normally around her all afternoon if he had something like this planned.

She untied her obi and shrugged off her overrobe, letting it fall to the floor at her feet while she tried thinking about who her admirer might be. Any of the prosecutors she knew could have been in the court house that day, even if she didn't know it. The same could be said about Gumshoe, and all the police officers she'd met while helping Nick with investigations. The Judge, of course, but she really, really, really hoped not. If she felt a beard, she was /gone/.

But it could really be anyone who knew that she always went to court with Nick when she could. The court house wasn't closed to visitors, and it wasn't hard to find out when they'd be there. She thought she'd have noticed if one of their old clients had been hanging around, but, if they didn't want to be noticed, who could say?

Of course, it would be easy to find out the truth if she wanted to. Whoever was there was probably in the closet, since the door was the type made out of wooden slats that would let them watch while she undressed and know when it was safe to come out, but the bathroom with its locking door was a possibility too. And there was always the chance that they hadn't been in the room to begin with and had started watching through the peephole when she came in, though she kind of hoped that it wasn't actually possible for people outside to look in like that. Whatever the case, it would be easy to start throwing open doors if she really wanted to know who was there (and boy, would it be fun if she had to kick down the bathroom door, just like in a movie!).

But that would be going against the whole point of what they were trying to do with her. So she fingered the blindfold thoughtfully for only a moment before picking it up and tying it around her eyes then lying herself on the bed, blind and bare, her heart beating so hard that she thought she could hear it.

"I--" she started, than had to cough against how dry her throat was to try to disguise the way the way the word had come out as a nervous squeak. "I'm ready," she tried again, hoping that this wasn't some horrible practical joke and she wasn't talking to an empty room.

Then she heard a door open (she was right about it being the closet! she noted triumphantly when she recognized the direction the sound came from) and somebody's footsteps closed the distance to the bed. Heavy footsteps, she thought, or did they just sound loud to her because her ears were trying to take up the slack for her eyes? She wasn't really sure.

She gasped then swallowed hard when hesitant fingertips suddenly brushed across her bare stomach, just above her bellybutton. They felt huge to her--a man with fat fingers?--but that had to be her over-stimulated imagination getting combined with her over-sensitive skin because nobody had fingertips that big. Nobody she knew, anyway.

"St-stop," she choked out through a thick throat when the touch moved to graze down her side. In an instant the hand was removed from her and she heard the person shoving themselves away from the bed. Before they had a chance to turn and flee she reached out a hand after them, quickly saying, "No, don't! Sorry, sorry, I just had to know that you'd really do it, you know?"

For a minute there was silence, and she thought that maybe her doubt had made them decide that they didn't want to do this after all, then they caught up her outstretched hand and brushed a light kiss across her palm. Their lips were soft, but when she tried to curl her fingers to touch their cheek and try getting a little more information from that they pulled quickly away. Well, at least there'd been no giant bushy beard.

They were much less hesitant now; maybe they'd been reassured along with her when her doubts had been eased. One of their hands settled on her breast, teasing lightly at her nipple, the other dragged through the thick thatch of hair at her crotch before sliding down along the inside of her thigh. Before she could even think to stop herself she made a whining noise in the back of her throat and thrust her hips up, after that touch that had already moved on. She thought that she heard a quiet laugh, more a hard exhale than anything else, but she was already too caught up in sensation to really concentrate on it. She was sure that she shouldn't be so turned on after such a short time, but her entire world was narrowed to those hands, to the scratch of the blanket under her back, and to the blackness in front of her eyes. And, geeze, even that blackness was a turn on, or maybe it was the biggest turn on of them all, the way it made her feel a little cut off from everything even though her eyes were wide and staring behind the cloth covering them.

A thumb dragged up along the juncture of her thigh and her legs fell open at the touch. The bed creaked, the hand at her breast slid downwards, and in a moment she felt a soft puff of air stirring her pubic hair. "Oh," she whispered when she realized what was coming, then, "Oh, /oh/," at the first glide of a tongue inside the lips of her vagina. She couldn't seem to say anything else.

She flailed her arms as her hips began to roll in a steady rhythm with their lips and tongue and hands, trying to at least touch them instead of having to be content with just being touched. Not that being touched wasn't working for her, but it didn't exactly seem fair.

But her hands were caught and pressed down to her sides before she could reach them. She made a disappointed noise as she twisted her hands up to let herself grab their wrists at least letting herself get that much of a touch in, and was surprised when she felt their cuffs and consciously realized for the first time that they were still fully dressed. She fingered the fabric between her fingers, trying to get more clues to her admirer's identity through it, but all she got was the fact that their cuffs were buttoned shut; not much when most of the people she knew constantly dressed in professional work clothes.

Then they gave her clit and hard suck and her conscious mind shattered as pleasure took over.

They'd moved away from her entirely when she gathered her thoughts back together again, but she could still hear them in the room nearby. "You're not stopping now/, are you?" she asked, lifting a boneless-feeling arm to swipe away the sweat beading on her forehead. "We haven't even gotten to you yet. Wow, Anon, I /love this. Please continue!"

She smiled her brightest smile in their direction, and she thought she heard them almost tripping over their feet in their haste to get back to her, all hesitation cast aside. The bed sank at her side as they sat down next to her, leaning down to kiss her, and at last she was allowed to reach up and touch them as much as she wanted.