Her heart was pounding as she lead him through the crowded shopping centre. Not just because she was leading a bound and gagged young man through a crowd where she could be spotted at any time, but also the gamble she was about to make.

More the gamble than the crowd, she admitted. She was rather depending on the bystander effect, or rather the ‘it’s not my problem’ effect. People could be remarkably blind, and she had been very careful. And in the middle of winter, no-one was going to notice that he was well wrapped up. A thick black hoodie was pulled low over his face, concealing the padded blindfold over his eyes and the earbuds currently blasting music into his ears. It wasn’t odd that he had a woollen scarf tied over his nose and mouth either, although that was just concealing the tight mouth-filling panel gag underneath, and the leather collar currently buckled around his neck.

The lead attached to it was threaded down the back of the hoodie, her right hand tucked up under the hem and holding onto it, cupping his hip while she was pressed against his left side, looking like she was giving him a loose embrace, really, holding onto him and guiding him through the crowds, pushing and pulling him in the right directions.

His hands were tucked into the front pocket of the hoodie, one of those that had a tube-like pocket, his wrists cuffed together inside. At least it had protected him from the icy winds outside. His ankles were likewise restrained, his tattered jeans hanging over a pair of leather cuffs, a fine chain glittering as he walked, long enough for him to easily walk, but certain to trip him if he tried to run. Small wonder he was being marvellously attentive to her.

She nuzzled into his shoulder, placing a small kiss on his neck, just under his ear. She smiled as she felt the shudder creep down his spine and dipped her left hand into his left pocket, finding his IPod and pausing the music. She heard his breath hitch and he faltered in step, trying to work out where he was. She very gently guided him over to a bench, and used to her guiding, he sat down.

He had been so eager this morning to oblige when she mentioned that they were going out, she rarely let him leave the flat, so even though it meant a more restrictive binding, he had accepted without complaint. She glanced around and swung her leg over him, sitting on his lap, face to face as she pulled out the earbuds and wrapped them carefully around the IPod and tucked it back into his pocket. He really was careless with his possessions, she thought. When she’d captured him his IPod screen was cracked and the headphones were barely functioning. She hoped he’d appreciate the new ones she’d bought him, and her trip to the repair shop.

Very aware of his ragged breathing, as he tried desperately to work out where they were this time, she reached up to stroke his face, setting her bag, her favourite bag with the HIM symbol on the flap, down next to him. She pulled the blindfold away, knocking the hood back and stowing the blindfold away in her bag, watching as he screwed his eyes shut, unused to the bright lights, then slowly opened them. His face blanked in surprise, then he raised his pierced eyebrow, eyes falling on her.

So gorgeous, she thought with a sigh, his dyed blue hair, pierced brow, ears and tongue... her cyberpunk. It was going to be a wrench, she thought sadly, reaching down between his legs, making him tense slightly in surprise... and unbuckled the ankle shackles, them vanishing into her bag along with the blindfold.

“What?” She demanded softly. “Do you really think that I was about to rape you in the middle of a shopping centre?”

His expression told her very clearly; ‘I wouldn’t put it past you’. She laughed at that, then reached up, shifting forwards slightly, kneeling up as she straddled him, her face on a level with hers as she stroked his dark blue hair.

“I want you to know that this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” She told him softly. “Kidnapping you was easy, sorry hun, but it was. Keeping you was slightly more difficult, but this? This... hurts.” She swallowed. “A friend of mine... she told me that I should be careful, keeping some-one, that I’d end up... that emotional transference was unavoidable,” She sounded like a Vulcan, she thought grimly, but she couldn’t help it. “I laughed at her at the time, thinking that you were just my toy, but she was right. She was always right.”

She trailed her hand down his face, shifting the scarf away from the gag... and her fingers started to play with the buckles, unfastening them slowly, one by one.

“I want to keep you, forever,” She said simply. “But that’s not really what I need. I need some-one to stay with me forever. Some-one who actually chose this, because, as sure as hell babe, you didn’t. And it’s not what you need either, you had... you’ve got a life. Maybe this time, you’ll actually do something with it.”

The last buckle was undone, and she pulled the gag free, tucking that away. He opened his mouth to say something... but he never got the chance. She reached forwards and pulled him towards her, kissing him hard, almost violently hard, hand fisting in the back of his hair, a strange desperation in her kiss...

And he kissed her back, savouring her taste, testing the cuffs, reaching out, wanting to hold her back... and felt a jolt of shock as he could, his arm sliding, unfettered around her, as his handcuffs slid into her bag. She put a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him away.

“So long and thanks for all the fish,” She said with a small smile, then dropped another light kiss on her lips. “You’ve got your short sad life left, that’s what I’m counting on.”

He laughed despite himself, and her smile stretched. Then she picked up her bag, and slid away with a rustle of her skirt, giving him a long, long look with those brilliant emerald eyes, and turned away, leaving him sat there, stunned.

He was free.

So why did that feel so damn hollow?
 
He felt in his pocket. There was his IPod, and his phone, both fully charged, both in almost perfect condition. Considerate, for a kidnapper. He blew out a soft sigh, and put them back in his pocket, noticing a tenner tucked into his pocket, along with some loose change. More than enough to catch a bus or a train wherever he needed to go.

Needed, not wanted.

It was pathetic, he thought. He should have been running around, whooping for joy, running off to do something, call all his mates, arrange a booze-up... but suddenly, he just didn’t want to anymore. He wanted...

“Goddamnit,” he growled, giving a mother and her kids an apologetic look as they hurried past, startled by the expletive.

What he really wanted was to be back with her. Unlike every other girl he’d met, she’d never actually hurt him. Playfully slapped, bit, pinched, left in bizarre positions, tickled to death... but she’d never actually hurt him. After all she’d put him through, all she’d teased him, all she’d insulted and poked and prodded... she’d actually given a damn. She’d actually wanted him. Actually cared, enough to let him go, and although that was kinda corny, he appreciated it.

He wanted her. And he didn’t even know her name. He didn’t know her address, her number, anything. If he left here without finding her, he might never find her again. He doubted that she’d be stupid enough to return to the scene of the crime, and he couldn’t trust in luck. Sure as the one person you were trying to avoid was always the one you bumped into, the one person you were actually looking for was never the one that cropped up.

So go get her.

He straightened up, pulling his hoodie over his head and tying it around his waist, grinning despite himself at the t-shirt she’d found him. It had the Space Core on it. He shrugged and started to wind his way through the crowd, thinking hard. What did he know? That she was found of books... he wavered towards a Waterstones. No. He didn’t think she’d be in there. Game then? She was certainly gamer, but again, no. That wasn’t the place a girl would go for retail therapy when she’d... albeit in a very weird way, broken up with someone.

She wouldn’t go clothes shopping in all the normal places...

And then he recognised where he was, and knew instantly where she’d be. Just over the road from here was a clothes shop, catering to Goths and the unique. And that was where she’d be, he’d lay odds. He only knew it because he’d scoped the place out as a place to get an industrial piercing after work...

And he broke into a light jog. He wanted to sprint, but that wouldn’t’ve worked in the crush, and anyway, he needed to think how to approach her. Not that there were any words for what he wanted to say.

And it all seemed to blur, navigating through the centre, then across the road, dodging a bus... and then down the street to the little ramshackle tudor house. He scanned the bottom floor, winding through the aisles, then caught the woman at the counter giving him the eye. He approached her, his heart rate picking up, fingers worrying at the edge of his jeans pocket. If she said no... Well. He had to ask.

“Hi,” he gave her an awkward smile. “I’ve lost my girlfriend and she’s a little pissed at me. Tall, red haired, green eyed, carrying a bag with the HIM symbol on it?”

“The heartagram?” She smiled, the piercing in her lip twinkling. “She comes in a lot, and yeah... she looked a little sad. Next floor up.”

He wanted to kiss her.

“Thanks, you’re a life saver.”

She blushed. Relief flowing through him, he took the stairs two at a time. His eyes flickered through the room, scanning every nook and cranny, and his heart fell. It seemed empty, what if she wasn’t here? What if the woman had been mistaken? His heart balled up into a hard knot...  And then, there she was, staring into a full length mirror...

And she was crying.

She wasn’t crying, not like other girls crying, it wasn’t showy or obvious, she wasn’t sobbing or heaving, or wailing into a tissue, she was just crying, tear tracks cobwebbing her cheeks and running down her long neck, clinging to her lashes, and as more spilled out of her swimming eyes, she didn’t try to rub them away, she just let them fall. Like they were a challenge to the world. I’m crying. Deal with it.

She was beautiful, he thought, watching her. Barely an inch shorter than him in low heeled button boots, almost Victorian-looking, a calf-length copper-coloured skirt, a white blouse, fitted to her shape and tucked into her skirt, a thick leather belt with an ornate buckle covering the join, a scarlet velvet waistcoat over the top, fitted to her shape beautifully. The blouse was held together at the throat with a gold and red-glass broach, emphasising her long swan-neck, left bare by her hairstyle.

He loved that hair. Dark red, the colour of red wine, it was pulled up into an ornate bun, held in place by a hairclip that looked almost like a dragon twining through it.

His steampunk.

“Why are you crying?” He asked her softly.

She didn’t look around.

“I let my boyfriend escape,” She said after a moment, with a small smile.

Interesting phrasing, he thought, but then, she had always been honest.

“Well, he was an idiot to try,” He remarked. “I can’t seem to catch a girl. I’d love one to catch me.”

She gave a startled laugh, and turned to look at him, those emerald eyes swimming in tears.

“So here we are again,” He recited at her, feeling his lip lift in a slight wry smile. “It’s always such a pleasure.”

She gazed at him incredulously, then burst out laughing again, her proper full laugh as she recognised the quote. She wiped away her tears with her copper-painted nails and gazed at him.

“I thought that I let you go?” She asked him.

“You did,” he admitted, taking a step towards her. “But... I didn’t catch your name.”

She smiled, folding her arms.

“It’s Caroline.”

He stared at her.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I’m Caroline Huxley,” She introduced herself with a smile. “And you kind sir?”

He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly.

“Toby,” He said, then sighed. “Tobias Wheatley. Yes, seriously.”

She stared at him, and burst out laughing again.

“I didn’t realise how apt that t-shirt was,” She tilted her head. “Quick, pretend the eye’s blue.”

He took a step towards her, caught her by the waist and pulled her into him, pressing his forehead against hers and gazing very slightly down into her eyes, cupping her neck in his hand.

“Well, Caroline,” he breathed, voice still slightly flippant. “Seeing as we’re introduced and all, can I buy you lunch?”

“I guess that that would be fair,” She murmured back, tracing her hands up over his arms to rest them on his shoulders. “What did you have in mind?”

His eyes twinkled mischievously.

“I was thinking fish and chips actually,” He said with a grin. “You see, my girlfriend’s been having me on a rather irritatingly healthy diet.”

She hid a grin well, but he could see it dancing in her eyes.

“Well no-one said you had to eat it,” She said sweetly.

“It was that or nothing,” He stroked her hair with his hand, then wrapped an errant strand around his finger. “One proviso though.”

She raised a red brow and he leaned closer.

“The handcuffs and other accoutrements stay in the bag.”

She tilted her head this way and that, pretending to mull it over, then winked.

“I may need a little persuading on that score.”

And a grin flashed across his face. He caught her very gently by the chin and kissed her, his hand gliding along the side of her face... and took her into a classic ballroom drop, kissing down her neck sensuously... and felt her heart race, fluttering at his arm through her ribs, and as he brought her back to her feet, she was panting for breath.

“Ok, consider me persuaded,” she said firmly, fanning herself as her cheeks went a delicate rose.

He held an arm out to her with a playful look.

“May I escort you Ma’am?”

She took his arm, with a small, very proper, nod, almost regally, then spoilt it by winking again, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek as he escorted her downstairs. He gave her an amused look, then grinned at the woman at the counter.

“I see that you’ve made it up,” She observed, then eyed Toby up, obviously measuring him in her mind. “Carole, get him in a top hat and tails, quick.”

Caroline gave him a small, confidential look and a mysterious smile.

“Sorry Lou, wrong genre, he’s a cyberpunk.”

Lou shrugged.

“Close enough.”

Toby looked down at Caroline as they walked along the street, and she looked up at him with a small smile.

“You’re still gorgeous,” She told him earnestly.

“But I still have sucker’s luck,” He reminded her.

“Yeah, sorry about that hun.” She frowned as a speculating expression crossed his face. “What?”

“Just thinking,” He grinned at her raised eyebrow, and continued. “Maybe I can tie you up this time.”

Her other brow rose, then she wrinkled her nose and shook her head. He laughed again.

“Well, I know that look,” he said wryly.

She leant against his shoulder consolingly, and patted his arm.

“Yup hunny, dream on."