The Cotillion

"Is that Peter?" Raj asked. He still seemed depressed about the FBI.

"Yes," I said, then added a white lie, "he wants to pick me up for breakfast this morning."

"Does he know about me?"

"Not you personally, but yes, he knows I don't have the knowledge to hack the firewalls," I replied.

"He must think me a coward," Raj said, his eyes finding the floor.

"No," I said softly, "he thinks I value your friendship enough to not destroy your family."

"I will not forgive myself if you end up in prison," Raj mumbled.

"You must," I said, "for Kiran and Aanya. If it was just you, I would have told the FBI long ago." Raj looked up and saw my smile. At least my joke lightened the mood. I changed the subject to trivial things. I knew Raj hadn't forgotten about the FBI, but at least he was willing to let it go for now.

I spent some time in the bathroom trying to clean up before Peter arrived. I felt rather pleased with myself and the way life was going. I thought my life wouldn't really begin until I was thirty-two with my freedom from Agnus. Now, that was merely another birthday. My life began the previous morning, when Peter was too close to hate me.

I undid my pony tail and ran a feeble comb through my hair. It took a while to break through the tangles, creating organized lines that looked softer. I suppressed a laugh knowing it would soon be a mess again. I touched up my mascara and brushed the lint off my clothes. I liked the smiling woman in the mirror. It had been a long time since she was my friend.

Agnus was waiting for me when I exited the bathroom, wearing a superior smile. That I could ignore. The men in suits next to her, I could not.

"You have surprised me," Agnus said, then she added, "daughter." It was laced with as much bitch as she could muster. "These gentlemen seem to think you have an alias. Now, I said, not my little Ella. Tell me it's not so." Her smile grew as she stepped off to the side. Out of everything that happened, her glee was the most irritating thing.

"Ella Tremaine, you're under arrest for wire fraud and espionage," the taller suit said. My eyes widened. "Please turn around and place your hands behind your back."

"I need to make a call," I said. An unexpected begging invaded my voice. I felt fear. Espionage. That was quite a bit more serious than I had expected.

"Sorry, ma'am," the shorter suit said, "the warrant is explicit. No communications or contact with any technology."

"I have rights," I demanded.

"National security trumps those rights," tall suit said. He moved toward me. I thought he intended to forcibly cuff me if I didn't comply. I turned and put my hands behind my back. I couldn't help it, my hands were shaking.

"I haven't seen a badge," I stammered. What rights did I have? Tall suit turned me around once my hands were secure.

"Agent Dawson, FBI," tall suit said as he held his badge so I could read it. I guess I had some rights.

"Agent Phillips, NSA," the shorter man said, holding up a different badge. My knees went weak. I was in more trouble than I knew.

"It was only a dance," I whimpered.

"This way, Ms. Tremaine," Dawson said. Agnus was covering her mouth. She was hiding a smile. I no longer cared about her little victory. I was concerned for my freedom.

"Agnus, I need a lawyer," I stated as Dawson took my arm and led me to the elevator. She was my purse. My finances were drained by a flat tire and shoes I only wore once.

"I'll see what I can do," Agnus said with a chuckle in her throat. I was sure she was going to hire someone straight out of school. The elevator opened and the agents and I stepped in. When I turned around, Raj was standing down the hall, his face ashen. I straightened up and tried to look strong. I subtly shook my head. Thankfully, he didn't move. At least his family would be unscathed.

Agent Dawson read me my rights on the way down. It was more frightening than I could have imagined. There was no innocent-until-proven-guilty in his tone. They placed me in the back of a blue sedan and, once I was buckled, pulled out into traffic.

"Where are you taking me?"

"FBI offices, Ms. Tremaine," Phillips said, turning in the passenger seat to look at me, "it would be in your best interest to cooperate, though you can choose to remain silent." He shook his head, "I would think that unwise for a person in your position."

"I went to a dance," I repeated, "it was stupid, but I'm not a spy or anything."

"We can recognize a trial run," Phillips continued, "you purposely compromised a military grade firewall and tried to ingratiate yourself with its creator." He shook his head again. "It is my understanding that you laid the seeds for you conquest by flaunting yourself prior to the dance. A seemingly random encounter that defies coincidence."

"It was a flat tire," I begged, "I didn't plan anything."

"What was it that turned you?" Phillips continued, "tired of waiting for your inheritance." My eyes widened at his knowledge, "Yes, we have an extensive file on you. Impatient spoiled rich girl. As we speak, your home and car are being searched. It would better for you if you came clean and told us who you work for."

"No one," I insisted quickly, "I was envious of my stepsisters. I'll admit that, but I would never do anything against America."

Phillips turned to Dawson and shared a smile. "They are all suddenly patriots when it's time to pay the piper." Dawson chuckled. I was in over my head.

"I want a lawyer," I begged, "you said I could have a lawyer present." At least that's what Dawson said when he read me my rights.

"Then they go all stubborn," Phillips chuckled. He turned back to me. "I dislike people like you. You trample all over your country then demand the same rights you work so hard to destroy." There was an unwavering hate in his eyes. My eyes began to well up. Handcuffed, I couldn't even wipe the shame away. Phillips rolled his eyes, "and then they try the crying thing."

Unbidden, my eyes began to drain down my cheeks. I needed Peter.

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

Waiting was the hardest part. I sat on a hard metal chair, handcuffed to a metal table that was bolted to the floor. The room was empty except for an empty chair on the other side of the table and two cameras mounted on the ceiling in opposite corners. Not even a clock to know how long I had been there. I only knew it had been hours.

I was strip searched when I arrived by two rough female agents who thought less of me than Phillips did. With rubber gloves, they probed to find secrets I didn't carry. The humiliation brought more tears. I tried desperately to remain strong, but each time I found my backbone, they crushed it again. I was hungry, thirsty and I really needed to pee. Instead, I sat on the rock hard chair and tried not to break down.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Tremaine," A woman said as she entered the room, "I am Agent Stratford with the FBI." She smiled and placed a thick folder on the table. Her dark brown hair was cropped short and she had an athletic build. Unlike the suits earlier, she was more casual in her brown slacks and tan blouse. Her badge was hanging off her belt.

"I have to use the bathroom," I said desperately. Surely, a woman would understand.

"We'll get to your needs after you answer a few questions," Stratford stated as she sat in the empty chair and opened the folder. On top of the papers was my pink phone in a plastic bag. The more I thought about it, the more I needed to pee.

"I am confused," Stratford continued as if my bladder wasn't her concern, "you have little money," I watched her removing papers from the folder, my bank statements among them, "yet you were able to finance a $5,000 a plate ball." She chuckled a little, "I thought my finances were bad until I got a look at yours." They hadn't traced the money back to Tremaine Marketing, Inc. Raj had hidden his tracks well. I could never tell them where the money came from.

"I really have to pee," I said.

"I really need an answer," Stratford said, leaning back in her chair. Her smile told me that she meant to hold me there until I complied. I remained silent and pushed my legs together to try and quell the urge.

"Whatever government you're working for will deny you even exist," Stratford continued, "your loyalty to them is now unfounded. We are the only ones who can help you now."

"Don't I get a lawyer?" I asked. Maybe a lawyer could get me the bathroom.

"In time," Stratford said, "but do you really want to give up your chance at leniency? Speak to us now and it will be taken into consideration at sentencing." They already had me convicted in their minds. "Who financed this operation? Who compromised the firewall?" she looked back down at the folder full of paper and waved her hand over it, "there is nothing here that even indicates you know how to turn a computer on. We know you are working for another organization." I crossed my legs and squeezed them tight.

"It was a dance," I pleaded, "I hacked the firewall myself. I just wanted to go to the dance." My bladder felt like it was going to burst. "Please let me go to the bathroom."

"Give me the password to the phone," Stratford said, holding the phone up. "They tell me the encryption is something new. Are you trying to tell me you created it as well?"

"I...I forgot the password," I stammered. I hated lying, but Raj's texts and voicemail were on the thing.

"Where did you get the money?" Stratford yelled, slamming the phone down. "Do you think we're stupid?" My eyes betrayed me again. I didn't want to break down in front of her, but I couldn't think quick enough to stall the fear. "Do you know what prison will be like? Traitors are dealt with harshly." I dropped my head down to my cuffed hands to wipe away the tears.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I cried.

"Who are you working for?" Stratford yelled louder, "You tell me what I need to know or you will rot as a slave to 300-pound dyke in prison." The floodgates opened and I lost control of my bladder. Stratford scooted back quickly as the puddle grew beneath the table. I no longer knew if I was crying for my freedom or the fact that she made me pee myself. I never felt so weak in my life.

The door opened and a man poked his head in. "Shit," the man said, "get her cleaned up fast." I lifted my head. "Get those damn cuffs off her."

"Give me ten more minutes," Stratford said, her smile was bordering on evil. I prayed he wouldn't give her ten more seconds.

"I doubt you have thirty seconds," the man warned, "her lawyers are here." Plural? Agnus sent more than one. A ray of hope.

"Keep them out!" Stratford argued.

"You do it," the man complained, "they're from the top firms in the city. I got the division head wanting to know why they haven't seen their client. I can't fight politics." Stratford looked at me with anger. I think she saw herself saving the free world. I was strengthened by the thought of lawyers and firms. I couldn't believe that Agnus pulled out all the stops. Maybe I misjudged her.

"It was just a dance," I said stronger. I liked that some sense of control had returned. "I'm going to need some clean clothes, or is that against the rules." I wiped the rest of my tears away. The fear in man's face gave me courage. I had lawyers.

"Uncuff her," a man in a very expensive black suit with a blue tie demanded. He looked at the floor and I saw his temples pulse. "Is this your idea of proper procedure?" he said, looking at the two agents. He had a touch of gray on his sideburns with perfectly groomed short black hair.

"Brendan Mcelroy of Finnegan, Roy, and Clausland," the man introduced himself to me, "I have been retained as part of your counsel team, Ms. Tremaine. That is, of course, if you agree." Stratford was moving with acuity, ignoring the mess on the floor in an attempt to get the cuffs off. I smiled as relief washed over me.

"Yes, please," I replied. I could have kissed him if I wasn't sitting in a pool of urine. Stratford released me from the cuffs and I resisted the urge to stand. Brendan recognized my hesitancy and took a step back.

"Please secure an unmonitored room so we may confer with our client," Brendan ordered. He had an authority about him that made you want to comply. "I expect her there shortly after she has had a chance to freshen up. I also expect a copy of the video of the interrogation," he added pointing to the cameras. Stratford's face lost its color. I felt better.

Stratford hustled to get me into the bathroom. There was no apology or contrition, but a definite shift in power had occurred. I was innocent until proven guilty again. It was the agent's bathroom, complete with lockers and showers. Stratford supplied me with a towel and some soap. After grunting out some instructions about not touching the lockers, she left to get me some dry clothes.

The shower was heavenly warm. I was human again. It took a few minutes before I was sure the last traces of the accident were gone. I succeeded in keeping my hair mostly dry which was surprising since I had an urge to douse myself and let the warm water shield me from the world.

Stratford returned with brand new, still in the package, FBI sweats. I would have to go commando, but clean and dry was better than wet and smelly. I dressed quickly and asked politely to be brought to my lawyers. Stratford complied without verbal acknowledgment. I could tell that the situation was killing her on the inside.

"I am sorry we did not get here sooner," Brendan said. I looked at the four faces of obviously successful lawyers. Three men and one woman dressed as if they had just stepped out of a catalog.

"I am so happy you came when you did," I said, "I'm just surprised my stepmother responded at all." There were a few confused looks.

"We have been retained by the Charmings," Brendan responded, "is there a problem with that." I think my smiled convinced them there wasn't. Screw Agnus. Peter loves me.

"Let's see about getting you out of here," Brendan said. Introductions were made and my interrogation discussed. I informed them that I did request to go to the bathroom multiple times and did request a lawyer. Dollar signs ignited in their eyes, but all I wanted was to get out of there. I didn't want to sue the FBI or anyone else for that matter. I especially didn't want a courtroom full of people see me pee myself.

There was a knock at the door. A female agent I didn't recognize entered with a folder and an uncomfortable expression. "The recording equipment didn't seem to be working during the interview," she said. I rolled my eyes. My attorneys saw red.

"You disallowed my client an attorney, chained her to a table and didn't allow her to use the bathroom for what...three, four hours?" Brendan seethed, "and now you tell us you have no record of it."

"I am not aware of any illegal or inhumane treatment, sir," the agent claimed, "I am only stating that the recording equipment was not working."

"I wonder if agent Stratford would like to be subpoenaed," Brendan added.

"National security allows us great leeway," the agent said.

"Not that great, and certainly not with American citizens on American soil," Brendan informed her, "If you wish Ms. Tremaine to not pursue the issues involved with the interview, I suggest you move quickly on a bond hearing. I am sure there are judges that will recognize Ms. Tremaine has no priors and isn't a flight risk." My lawyers all glared at the agent. There was no fear in their eyes, but I saw plenty in the agent. I folded my hands across my chest and added my confident stare as well.

It was four hours later before I found myself exiting FBI headquarters. About twenty years earlier than Agent Stratford would have preferred. The judge found the espionage linkage weak but agreed that the wire fraud charge was relevant. A $10,000 bail was paid by Brendan on behalf of the Charmings. I had to agree to stay off all computers and not leave the city without informing the FBI.

I would have hated the building itself if it wasn't for what I saw slumped in an uncomfortable chair in the foyer as I was leaving. A tired, frustrated and oh so beautiful Peter. HIs eyes brightened and a smile emerged as he saw me approaching. His arms and lips were just as I remembered.

"Why are you in FBI sweats?" Peter asked.

"Can we get out here first?"

"Yes...Yes, we can," Peter said enthusiastically. My hand in his, he led me out of my mini nightmare.

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

"So, they think you're a spy?" Peter asked. He was scrambling eggs while I was laying bacon across a pan. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until he mentioned food. I liked that idea of cooking with him. It was wonderfully domestic and a little charming that he thought of my needs.

"You can't imagine how happy I was to see the lawyers," I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. I liked making him smile. "a few more minutes in that room with that woman, and I would have claimed to have shot Kennedy." I didn't think we could be any closer. Our shoulders kept rubbing against each other was we worked. We weren't even taking the trouble to make it look unintentional.

"Raj wants to confess," Peter said. I sucked in my breath.

"How do you know about Raj?"

"He found me on the street looking for you," Peter admitted, "I guess he knew we were supposed to meet this morning. He told me what happened and pretty much told me everything else."

"Oh, Peter," I begged, "you can't let him confess. They will deport his family and things won't go well for them in India. They are the best friends I have and I don't want to lose them."

"Deport him?" Peter smiled, "I want to hire him. He's brilliant and thinks way out of the box. The way he tricked my firewall into thinking the packet streams were authorized was ingenious. He sees holes where the rest of us see solid walls."

"You like him too," I summarized.

"Yes," Peter said, his eyes looking up as he thought, "I think I do."

"Good," I agreed, "his wife and daughter don't need to be brought into this. I am in trouble either way."

"I think my ranting made this worse," Peter said as he moved to the stove and poured the eggs into a pan.

"I should have never run out of the dance," I confessed. Peter saw me coming with the bacon and opened the oven door. No need for words, we were in cooking sync. I placed the bacon the middle rack and Peter closed the door.

"Yay, I took that badly," Peter admitted.

"But you rescued me today," I said. I put my hand over his and we stirred the eggs together with a wooden spoon. Highly inefficient, but so nice.

"I wish I could have found you sooner. I would have liked to spare you the interrogation," Peter said as his lips moved closer to mine. I ran my hand up his arm and behind his neck and pulled him closer. I wanted to let the eggs burn and let the intimacy continue. Every moment of our joined lips increased his passion. I heard the spoon fall free as he wrapped me in his arms.

"We are going to starve to death at this rate," Peter whispered into my mouth. I could feel his lips curving against mine. Starvation wouldn't be so bad, but the loss of stamina might slow us down. I pulled myself away. Not far away - still touching. I didn't want to lose the closeness.

"Food first," I said, struggling to lessen my smile. I told my body to put the tingle that was growing on hold. I saw a shiver run down Peter's spine. He was feeling what I was. There was more in sync than cooking.

"Are you going to work tonight," Peter asked.

"Without sleep," I said, shaking me head no, "I have some time off I can use." Peter's smile grew and he stirred the eggs more vigorously.

"I was thinking of taking the night off as well," Peter said. His eyes weren't looking at me, almost if he were afraid of his salacious thoughts.