Tonal Key: Valentine

As she wandered through the crowd, she searched for the pair of blue eyes that had haunted her for years. She had turned 25 last month and was rapidly growing tired of waiting to find him. If he rejected her now, she could handle it, would handle, if he would just be somewhere, anywhere, here and now. But he wasn't there.

Waving at the bar tender just outside the door of the drum and bass, she breezed in, finding her favorite percussionists just setting up. They grinned at her, pleased. The drum and bass crowd was small; it hadn't caught on many places yet. Those who were loyal to it soon came to know each other by face if not by name, and greeted each other as friends. Idly leaning out the street side window, waiting for the music to start, her gaze was captured by the top of a man's head as he went into the small 24 hour pizza joint across the street. Something about him seemed familiar. She started to shrug it off, then remembered that Valentine's Day was mission day. Waving to the people in the room, she took off. The bartender stared in surprise; she never left the club before closing, and never went to any of the other rooms.

Rushing downstairs, she ran to the cloak room, waiting impatiently for the bunny-girl manning it to get her wrap. She practically tore it from her hands, leaving a $20 to pay for service and tip...a very generous tip, considering the actual fee was only $3 for the 15 minutes she'd been in the club. Running out the doors, she rushed across the street to the pizza place, stopping traffic and nearly causing an accident.

She swept in like a whirlwind, waving at Ms. Lisa, who owned the place. She often stopped here after her club visits twice a month, and came every time she had insomnia or a creative fit. Her gaze swept across the restaurant, then stopped, ensnared. It was him.

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

He'd been wandering around for almost an hour when he saw the little pizza place. It seemed somehow...homey and oddly appealing. If asked, he'd have said he wasn't in the mood for pizza, but something about this place seemed to draw him. Across the street he heard the loud thumping of the famous nightclub. A part of him was tempted to go, but he knew that with the conference in the morning he didn't dare. Instead he opened the door to the pizza restaurant and went inside.

It was, to his relief, fairly empty. A young couple with two kids, an older man reading a paper, and a teenaged boy in a delivery uniform playing a handheld game in the corner were the only occupants besides the wiry black woman bearing down on him. She smiled hugely, greeting him like an old friend and seating him in a booth near the back of the restaurant. Her gaze swept over him appreciatively, but she was old enough to be his mother, so he just smiled politely and looked down at his menu.

He had just made a decision on what to have when the door opened. Involuntarily he looked up. A petite woman in a red dress to die for, black velvet trailing from her left hand, swept into the place, waving at the woman who had shown him to his table. She stood a moment, scanning the room. She seemed familiar, but he couldn't place her in his mind. An instant later, those mahogany eyes met his and locked. The same feeling from nine years ago, but deeper, fuller. He'd never be able to let her go this time; he knew it. Slowly he stood, walking towards her as if in a trance. In a moment that seemed 100 years and less than a second, he reached her, raising a hand to stroke her cheek. As they made contact for the first time, she sighed the one word that echoed in both their minds: Finally.

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

The intern sighed in resigned boredom. Bonder's Day was always difficult for the Lonely, the unbonded. The Valentine's holiday of E.A.R.T.H. had initially been aligned to correspond to the home world celebration, but over the years the star calendar had fallen out of favour for marking data in the atrium, causing the days to actually align only on an alternating 9 year/11 year cycle. She absently rubbed her fingers across her crotch, wishing her soulmate would suddenly appear to relieve the ache caused by the tonal interplay of the planetary alignment. The analytical portion of her brain marveled at the boon of a location where even the same tonal frequencies were echoed from the home world environment. At the same time, the frustrated desire it caused her rued and cursed the timing of her application and acceptance; why couldn't she have been in transit during this torture? Cryo-sleep was suddenly more appealing.

Soon she was so absorbed in relieving her frustrations, she failed to notice the yellow alert, or the 12 green alerts that began nearly 15 minutes later. Just as she came, the door slammed open. Somewhere in the back of her haze filled mind, she heard heavy footsteps tromping across the floor. As she came down from her self-induced bliss, the whine of monitors coming on and the rapid clack of a keyboard seeped into her awareness. Turning her head away, she tried to ignore the sounds of duty, strove to stay in her pleasant haze. Rough hands grabbed her shoulders, shaking her back into awareness.

The old doctor glared down at her, berating her lack of control. Pushing her to the side with a disgusted sound, he manned the main console, punching in sequences for back data, archivisation, and staff support.

Still somewhat bemused and frustrated, the hapless intern sneered, not realizing who stood before her. Her ruby-painted lips dropped disparaging remarks on everything from his scientific abilities to his manhood. She made sure to point out that staff support on this night was limited to the unbonded. Shifting quickly, she began to taunt him for never having formed a bond at his age. She was quickly silenced by a pair of strange ice-blue eyes and a dark voice telling her his soulmate was dead, asking if she'd like to join her. When she failed to reply, he turned back to his work. Quietly, she stood and began to work alongside him, frustrations momentarily forgotten.

Contrary to the intern's expectations, an entire team of senior researchers appeared, 20 in all, 10 bonded pairs. Working quickly, they back-referenced data for the duration of the yellow alert, pulled up visuals, and cross-referenced the new data with the previous information. During processing, the intern was effectively removed, left in a corner to observe. Her eyes grew wider as information and hypotheses flew across the room.

Alpha pair initiated contact, tonal references aligning sequence level two; yellow alert verified. Tonal realignment completion for alpha pair predates tonal alignment sequence one for beta group by .275 seconds. Blips in REM sleep cycle for gamma group. Delta group designated through tonal continuity. Alpha pair genetic anomalies verified. Carrier wave verification in process...carrier wave verified. Carrier wave source verification in process...wave source verified. Alpha pair production of carrier wave verified at 99.82% probability. A moment of silence, then a throat was cleared. Awaken a sleeper, Doctor? No response. The intern was frozen in place, trying to assimilate all the data she had just overheard. Doctor? Doctor Valentine? Awaken a sleeper? Another pause, then the doctor jerked his head in assent.

As the doctor silently turned and walked out of the room, a loud cheer erupted from the scientists, followed by a brief but intense make-out session between bonders. Taking the moment of silence to orient herself, the intern finally stood upright, approaching a pair of scientists as they came up for air. Is it Valentine's theory, then? Interplanetary tonal interaction throughout the galaxy can affect the bonding process? It's been proven? And that old man...is Doctor Valentine? The condescending looks on their faces answered her question, though she was still lost as to how. In a matter of seconds it didn't matter; the red alert began to sound. Aghast, the entire room realized their fatal flaw in celebrating before completing their work.

Doctor Valentine rushed in just in time to see the looks of horror being passed between the researchers. Without pausing, he began barking out orders for the progress meters to be manned, an up to date visual put on display, and the tonal realignment detail screen put on a side by side with the visual while somebody made sure they didn't lose any pairs due to mass incompetence.

As the doctor's displays came up, his shoulders sagged and his head dropped in relief. Raising back up he barked for someone to awaken the forsaken sleeper before somebody's synapses got fried. The intern redeemed herself by having done so as soon as the tonal realignment had appeared onscreen showing only 22%.

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

Lisa stared in amazement at the couple in front of her, groping each other as if the world simply didn't exist. She was worried that they would start undressing at any moment, but neither she nor the joint efforts of the customers seemed to break into their world. Even the delivery boy's catcalls and obscenities fell on deaf ears. Just as she was about to step in and force them apart, a strange, high-pitched ringing filled her ears, climbing up the scale until it seemed to be an echo in her skull more than an actual sound. Her vision went black.

Seconds later, she blinked. Everything was exactly the way it had been before the ringin, except now she knew what to do. Taking care to touch them simultaneously, she managed to half guide, half manhandle the couple into her back room. Once there, she opened a small fuse box, flipped two switches O.R., stepped back out of the room, closing and locking the door. Returning to the few customers, she offered some romantic dribble about a married couple split up due to amnesia, but after a full recovery, etc. They lapped it up eagerly, as well they should on Valentine's Day.

In the back room, a green scanner came on, followed by a red warning light. A containment field wrapped around the couple. Moments later, a white light seemed to envelope them, then they were gone. The door to the back room unlocked automatically, the O.R. switches flipping back to their original positions.

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

As soon as he touched her, it was as though a floodgate opened. All his thoughts echoed in her mind, her memories combined with his, thoughts intermixing, swirling together through the contact. She blinked twice, trying to understand. It was as if she was seeing him and herself at the same time. He shook his head slightly, having the same problem. Looking into each other's eyes, they realized, without words or any other external expression, that they had only one mind between them. What one thought, so did the other one, and while agreeing it was disturbing in principle, the reality bothered them not at all.

Slowly his hand slid down her cheek, brushing its way down her neck and across her shoulder. Slowly it worked its way forward, skimming over the exposed skin of one breast before running slowly down her side and around her waist, pulling her flush to him. Smiling slightly, she ran her hands up over his thighs, momentarily gripping his butt before sliding her hands around and up. Teasingly, she left them low on his hips, thumbs not quite brushing his rampant erection. He growled at her, then attacked her lips, pressing roughly, bruisingly, sliding his tongue gently over her lips in contrast. No longer in a teasing mood, both his hands went to the sides of her thighs, pushed up under her dress, and slid around to grasp the bare skin of her ass, lifting her slightly to grind against him. Her dress was just long enough to fall over his hands, barely hiding the soft globes he was grasping so tightly. She would probably have bruises there in the morning.

Mentally he took her to task for teasing him so often. First they had mind-blowing sex each Valentine's but she was never there, next she purposely left her herself half-naked, not to mention masturbating to tease him and her persistent refusal to touch his erection. She merely projected a smug smile into his mind, leaving her hands where they'd been the entire time. Slowly she wrapped her right leg around his calf, then slid it slowly up his leg, up over her own hands, leaving it wrapped around his waist, her bare lips pressed directly to the bulge threatening to burst the zipper of his jeans. He panted into her mouth lightly, trapped between ecstasy and pain. Pulling away from her soft mouth, he looked bemusedly at the smeared lipstick, then bent his head to her neck, biting not so gently. In return she ran her tongue in and around his ear and down the tendon on his neck, nipping softly as he continued to bite her roughly, until finally he lifted his head. They both felt something happening inside them, between them, to them, but neither one could focus on it sufficiently as desire rode them mercilessly.

Reaching down, he lifted her left leg to join her right, settling it around his waist, helping to support her with the hand still massaging her behind. Backing up until the back of his legs hit the bed that had apparently appeared from nowhere, he lowered himself until he was sitting on the edge with her on his lap. Running his right hand over her back, he quickly discovered the zipper of her dress, pulling it down. Caressing the strip of flesh he'd uncovered, he moved his hands back to her shoulders, brushing the shallow excuse for sleeves down her arms. He rested his hands on her wrists, encouraging her to slip from the sleeves. Finally releasing her grip, she slid her hands from the sleeves, letting her palms rest briefly on his chest, still covered by his shirt.

Hands at her waist, he gathered the material of the rucked up dress, pulling it slowly, teasingly over her body, letting his thumbs trail in its wake. As he pulled the dress up, she raised her arms to accommodate him, momentarily breaking the kiss. As the dress came over her head, he stared into her passion glazed eyes, glowing faintly gold under the odd mahogany colour. Holding her eyes, he bent his head, licking the areoles peaking from the tops of the bra cups. She squirmed against him before throwing her head back and letting him have his way. As he teased her breasts, never quite touching her throbbing nipples, she began to unbutton his shirt, mainly by feel.

Suddenly growing impatient, he dumped her onto the bed, ripping his shirt off, losing several buttons in the process. His low boots took a moment to pull off, seeming to frustrate him more. Yanking his pants down, he kicked them to the side then turned towards the bed. She lay on her back where he had dumped her, knees to one side, feet to another. The red demi-bra, fishnet thigh-highs, and heeled boots only served to emphasize what was bared to his gaze. As they watched each other, they both licked their lips in an unconsciously identical gesture.

Grabbing her ankles, he dragged her legs straight, then open. Sitting on the bed near her feet, he reached over and began to work the boots off her feet, leaning in somewhat to peer at her glistening sex. Tossing the first boot over his shoulder, he leaned in closer, planting kisses on her inner thighs. She writhed slightly on the bed, gripping the coverlet in her fists. The second boot flew across his shoulder and he leaned in farther, lapping delicately at the flowing juices. She let loose an audible whimper, pushing her hips towards his mouth. Smiling, he grasped her thighs, keeping her from moving too far. Continuing his delicate lapping rhythm, he caressed her clit only with his breath, and entered her canal not at all. Reaching down, she grabbed his hair and started pulling, trying to direct him where she wanted him. Instead he rose up, easily escaping her grip. Bracing his arms on either side of her head, he teased her with the tip of his rock hard erection. Slanting him a look that promised retaliation, she swung her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, using him as a brace to lift herself up and half-impale herself on his member. Muttering about her lack of patience, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm and rolled over, leaving her on top, slowly sinking down onto him. She gasped at the change in sensation, then whimpered as his length reached her barrier. Bracing herself on hands planted on his chest and knees on either side of his hips, she looked at him sadly, unable to continue. His eyes blazed blue fire. Jerking up, he sank fangs into her neck as he broke through her maidenhead. She reared back in pain, then sank her fangs into the artery exposed by his position. Locked together, they rode out the storm of their desire at an unmatchable pace, running up on nearly three simultaneous orgasms before collapsing to the bed, exhausted.

After an unknown time, she stirred slightly, looking at him, bemused, curious as to just how he'd had three orgasms without any recovery time. Smiling, he slid a hand up her body, grasping one of her still half hidden breasts, noting that the fact she was always ready for him helped. Another few minutes of gazing into each others eyes passed before they acknowledged the odd situation they found themselves in. Where they were, how they'd gotten there, and which direction the exit lay in became top priority. Using the newly developed mental bond, they discussed options while cuddling on the bed. As if on a signal, they rolled out of opposite sides of the bed, retrieving their clothes and dressing silently. Minutes later they wandered the room hand in hand, searching for an exit. Except for the bed and a plush carpet, the room was empty. Everything was a shade of grey.

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

The three people remaining upright in the observation center stared in awe at the statistics playing across the screen. Doctor Valentine, the female intern, and a male scientist who had been with the project nearly as long as Valentine simultaneously released the breath they had been holding. All the others had long since fallen to the floor, writhing in sensual ecstasy. The male had entered the room only after the full red alert had sounded throughout the observation compound and he had seen his collegues falling like flies.

If they weren't contained was breathed out by the intern, only to be silenced by the doctor's upraised hand. Typing in a high security sequence, he barked out orders for the chamber to be unlocked and reentry processing begun. Rushing to comply, the intern left the room, leaving the two men alone.

Another upraised hand and a frown met the quietly voiced You're sure. The forming But was chopped away by the same hand. A gesture towards the data silently proved the point it was too late for any other options. Shaking his head sorrowfully, the senior scientist moved to walk away. A moment of hesitancy echoed with: The experiment won't be the same. Waiting for an acknowledgement that never came, he departed.

Alone, Valentine keyed in another secure sequence, changing two "unchangeable" lines of data. As the rest of the researchers came back to themselves, he closed out the screen, assuming a look of disgust. His merciless growl of Get back to work shook many of the scientists out of their afterglow. Glancing with grim satisfaction at the two yellow alerts and 13 green alerts flashing from the wall, he watched the red alert die out, the data consoles moving to the Archive section. Without another word, he walked out of the room towards the shuttles headed back to the home world.

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

Due to Bonder's Day, there were only four other people besides the doctor on the shuttle. One was the young pilot, obviously unbonded and well in control of himself to be allowed to fly. Another was a woman of middle years with a hard and cynical gleam in her eye proclaiming that she, too, was unbonded. Directly across the aisle from Valentine was an exotic young couple. While unique in their own rights, together they ran the gamut of exotic features and set each other off strikingly. While clearly bonded, they seemed well in hand for such a tonally affecting night.