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Framed in fantasies and dragged in dream.

Sam caught his breath and followed on. He made sure that the papers were firmly wedged into his trenchcoat pocket, every good PI had a trenchcoat - Sam's old friend, Seven, had once said that he remembered a friend saying this was because there would be more room to hide things. The papers were safe.

Further up the street the woman's heels could be heard again, she walked quickly - no wonder around here. Sam paused at the entrance to a side street, one large enough that it formed one of the smaller crossroads. He'd been following her for three blocks now and the architecture, if he was honest, was looking a lot better, less bars on the windows for one, always a comfort.

Still a one block distance away from him the woman paused, reached into her bag; pulling out a cigarette, lighting it in a flicker of her fingers with a small coloured lighter. Sam watched the light flare; he was still just outside the distance her heels could be heard and he pressed himself up against the edge of a door as she stood there for three long, slow breaths before she flicked the smoking butt away to the side, a score of red down to the gutter.

Then she was walking again, turning right into the street alongside a high walled building, one of the earliest in the city, three stories high. It had once been a department store for a well known local name. Now it was two floors of multigym and one floor of offices, all of which had the lights off.

Sam waited and then moved up to the corner, holding himself at the edge after he'd moved up as quickly he'd dared. He paused and let his breath catch for a few moments, slowly down his chest before slightly closing his eyes and concentrating, concentrating to listen. Everything was quiet. Five, ten, fifteen seconds he waited, listening, ears sharp, breathe held.

Nothing. He couldn't afford to lose her again. He let out his breath and looked around the corner, keeping tight to the wall just his eyes and head, hat held down to the side for a moment. Nothing. He stepped out and started to walk down the street, putting his hat back on as he moved down the single track road between another anonymous old building and the multigym.

Five paces in she stepped out from nowhere, the jacket gone from the red crimson dress as she stood right in out beside him, her eyes level with his as the click, click of those heels announced her as much as the sight of her. His reactions saved him before he could walk into her, his face snapping to hers. Her lips were curled into a dangerous smile, a smile that a victorious council is all too familiar with. His eyes caught that smile before he could even shout in surprise, those crimson lips taking his breath away as a shred of a moment later he felt her hand squeeze between his legs, fingers pushing over the tight denim and between his thighs, pulling up and cupping her fingers firmly around his balls as she stood there.

"What you looking for Sam?" she said; her lips moving like music in front of his eyes.

Sam took in a sharp breath, as sharp as those long scarlet nails that were gripping the most delicate place he had. He struggled for breath, his eyes wide as he looked at her; jacket gone, a plunging neckline into a cleavage you could ski down. The breath he'd took it, he held, his eyes looking up and into hers, into her deep green eyes holding his gaze as her fingers squeezed, eased, rolled...

"Fuck..."

He managed in a gasp of breath, a shiver running down from his top, up from his toes, into where her fingers were working magic, how, when had he become that hard? There was no way she couldn't realise as she looked into his eyes, working her fingers over his balls, squeezing left to right, moving them between her fingers... jeans had never felt that transparent before.

She moved closer.

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