Some Guys Have all the Luck

Chapter 10--Music of the Night

Disclaimer: We do not own the Matrix, it owns us.

Summary: Celia and Brown have their first date and it is a wonderfully romantic experience for both of them.

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“That was wonderful!” Celia exclaimed, holding onto Brown’s arm as they exited the theatre. The glorious compositions of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber’s masterwork still filled in her head.

Brown smiled. “I’m glad you liked it,” he said, allowing himself to partake in her enthusiasm. He glanced down at her smiling face and in the illumination reflected from the streetlights, her face was glowing. Brown thought the beauty in the statue of Venus de Milo looked positively drab in comparison to the vision of loveliness that was at his side. Celia was dazzling in the crimson full-length gown that she had worn to the evening’s performance of “The Phantom of the Opera.”

Through his influence at the Agency, Brown had been able to procure first-class seating and they had a full and unobstructed view of the stage. It had been worth it, Brown thought, as he gazed down at Celia for throughout the entire performance, she was at the end of her seat, looking down on the drama that was unfolding on the stage below with her undivided attention. Throughout the performance, her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling with rapture. Looking at her, Brown had had no reason to analyze her coding to see if she was enjoying herself--it shone from her eyes for all to see.

And much to Agent Brown’s pleasant surprise, he too had found himself totally swept away by the rapturous yet tragic love story of the ill-fated Phantom and his beloved songbird, Christine Daae. He had read Gaston Leroux’s novel, on which the play was based, while he was still a cadet at the academy. The written words of the French author had failed move him, stirring no feelings of sympathy for the disfigured title character. The book’s heroine had made the right decision, the only logical choice, given her situation. But now after experiencing the sights and sounds of the fictional events come to life in such splendiferous fashion, Brown had allowed himself to be ensnared by the magic of the “music of the night.”

Sitting next to Celia, Brown felt transported into her secret world, a world filled with music, romance and forbidden passion. And by sharing her love for this harmonious epic with him, the evening had become more significant and meaningful for the both of them.

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In preparation for the evening, Brown had abandoned his standard Agency-issue apparel in favour of an Armani suit; elegant in cut and design as only an Italian designer could make it. The suit was navy blue and the shirt was a shade or two lighter in tone and combined with the silk tie, complimented the agent’s grey/blue eyes.

All in all, Celia and Brown were a very handsome couple. Mingling with the other patrons, Brown took her hand and led her outside.

“What would you like to do now?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Celia answered. The past three hours had been sublime and she did not want to end their date just yet. Adrenaline was coursing through her and she knew it would be a long time before she would be able to even think of sleeping. She was full of pure high spirits and she wanted nothing more than to dance the night away in Brown’s embrace. If he had been even programmed to dance, that is. As a program in the Matrix, Celia knew about some of the abilities that their agents had been given but she wasn’t sure if dancing was one of them.

“I know you’ve got something on your mind,” Brown said teasingly. “Tell me what it is.”

“Well, I would like…”

“Yes?” he prompted, tipping her face up so he could look into his eyes.

“Dancing. I would really like to go somewhere with you but…I mean, can you--?”

Instead of replying, Brown took Celia’s hand and held it in his own while the other went around her waist. He waltzed easily and skilfully with her and Celia felt she was in the very capable hands of a true master of the art.

“Does this answer your question?” he said with a smile as he continued to hold her in his arms. Enthralled and charmed, Celia looked into Brown’s face and they stopped dancing. More than he ever thought possible, Brown wanted to kiss the perfectly shaped crimson lips that beckoned silently to him. After a long moment, Brown made up his mind and lowered his head until his mouth was a few millimetres from Celia,

“If you want to stop me,” he breathed, “you’d better say so now.”

“No,” Celia said, “I don’t want you to stop; I want you to kiss me.” Celia was not aware of it, but her eyes shone with expectation and desire. She gave out a small moan and the sound of her longing reverberated through her companion.

Ignoring the stares of the people around them, Celia and Brown kissed one another tentatively at first, then with increasing ardour. A few of the female onlookers sighed as they recollected the passion of their own youth when they too had felt the excitement of first love.

“Now, where would you like to go?” Brown asked. Celia gave it some thought—after watching a play about love and subtle erotic undertones, gyrating wildly across a crowded dance floor from Brown was not what she had in mind. She wanted to feel his strong arms around her as they danced cheek to cheek and having no one between them to interfere with the magic spell that the play had bestowed on them both.

“Take me to the Rainbow Room,” Celia requested quietly.

With a faint smile, the dashing young agent slipped his arm around his companion’s slim waist. Brushing his warm soft lips on the concave of her neck, he whispered softly, “Ah, Christine, a night of dancing with your Phantom? Very well, then dancing it shall be.”

Celia giggled at being called by the name of play’s lead female character. She sighed at the thought of seeing half of Brown’s gorgeous face obscured by a white porcelain mask. Picturing him all decked out in a long, flowing black cape turned her on immensely.

As one of her well-defined eyebrows shot up, her plump, pouting mouth formed a sly, knowing smile. “Lead the way, Erik.”

Agent Brown planted a light, gentle kiss on the very tip of her nose then wordlessly guided Celia away from the Mega City Theatre for the Performing Arts to hail a cab.

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When they arrived at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, the doorman quickly rushed to their taxi and flung open the car door. After paying the cabbie for their fare, Brown was the first to get out. Then with a graceful flair, he extended is his hand to the bewitching creature still seated inside the warm interior of the yellow taxi.

Gladly, Celia took the hand being offered to her and then allowed herself to be ushered into the city’s most opulent and spacious supper club.

Celia drew a breath in awe as she and Brown swept through the oak doors of the ballroom. The carpeting around the perimeter of the dance floor was a midnight blue. The dancing area itself was hardwood and polished so minutely that it looked as smooth as glass. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and for a moment, Celia thought it resembled the one on stage that was supposed to hang in the Paris Opera House

Almost immediately, her senses were soothed by the dulcet tones of the soft music being played in the foreground as Celia and Brown were shown to their table near the dance floor. From their vantage point, they had an overall view of the entire dining establishment.

Men in formal wear were accompanied by handsomely dressed women and it seemed that diamond jewellery was the favoured choice of adornment as the costly gems sparkled from almost every woman’s wrist, neck and breast and some even wore tiaras.

Celia looked down at herself. I don’t have anything that comes even close to what these other women are wearing, she thought, and all the happiness and exuberance at finally being in this famous dance club evaporated. Even my dress is sub-standard; most of the gowns here tonight were worn by women who were probably on a first-name basis with the designer. Even though my dress is good quality, it still screams “I Got This Dress Off The Rack In the Clearance Section At Macy’s” to anyone with even the slightest knowledge of what passes for haute couture.

My dress was good enough for the Mega City playhouse, but here in the highest of the high with regard to big-name dance halls, it looks downright shabby. Well at least the lights are dimmed somewhat and no one can see what a social-climbing schlemiel I am. Call Mega City what you want, but at least I knew a few people there. Here I don’t, although Brown seems to have an acquaintance or two but that shouldn’t be surprising: he is an agent of the Matrix and is probably used to hob-knobbing with the rich and famous. As Celia’s eyes scanned the other guests, she saw quite a few celebrities; several of whom she had waited in line to see their movies.

Now I know I really don’t belong in this place, she thought, since I am the only one here whose face has never been on the cover of People, Newsweek or even The National Enquirer, slugging it out with the paparazzi or mugging for the cameras.

Brown turned and looked at her strangely and it was then that Celia realized she had spoken aloud. Mortified, she bent her head so that Brown could not see her embarrassed and mortified flush.

As if he had read her mind, Brown murmured into her ear, “I love the way you look tonight, you are ravishing.”

Grateful for his timely compliment, Celia flashed him a smile so brilliant, it rivalled the glitz and glamour of any of the starlets in attendance that evening.

Feeling better, Celia allowed her eyes to roam about the ballroom. She could see that room was very spacious, but dimly lit overhead. But the illumination from the candles on each of the tables was reflected in the giant mirrored ball hanging down from the center of the ceiling just above the dance floor; casting an almost hazy, dreamlike aura over the Rainbow Room.

Celia’s dark eyes fell upon the dozen or so couples already swaying to the music from the live orchestra; she couldn’t help but sigh from the romance of it all.

“May I have this dance, Christine?” asked Brown from across the table, still very much in “Phantom” character.

Celia, picking up her cue, feigned indignant surprise. “Why, Erik, what would Raoul say?”

With a devilish grin and wicked glint his grey/blue eyes that made Celia go weak at the knees he replied, “I don’t really much care what that foppish imbecile has to say when it comes to you,” he said, referring to the Phantom’s rival for Christine’s affections.

Then the handsome young agent drew near to his quarry in predatory fashion, causing Celia’s pulse to race with anticipation. He stared deeply into her eyes as he leisurely ran the tip of a long finger across the ample cleavage spilling out of the top of her gown.

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Don’t forget, Celia,” calling her by her rightful name. “You belong to me,” he quoted. Then before his companion had an opportunity to react, Brown gathered her up in his arms as he passionately took possession of her sumptuous mouth with his own, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout Celia’s entire system.

Groaning against the devouring moistness of Brown’s lips, Celia felt her nipples harden as her lover held her tightly against him. Slowly the lingering kiss ended and neither one of them wanted to let go of the other. But knowing that his Celia wanted to dance, it wasn’t long before Agent Brown gallantly guided his lady towards the dance floor.

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Dancing cheek to cheek with Brown was heavenly as Celia followed his lead. He was a graceful dancer indeed and she felt as if she were floating on a cloud as they glided across the hardwood floor in time with the music. She smiled slightly when she caught a quick glance at their reflection in the mirrored wall.

God, we look like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, she mused to herself.

Just then, the band began to play an instrumental rendition of the “Music of the Night” the Phantom of Opera’s showstopper. She then felt Brown twirl her around before crushing her body back to his in a bold but elegant move. Her head was swimming as she swooned, reliving the play they had just seen. Celia didn’t want this night to end, ever.

But just when she thought the evening could not be more perfect, to her delight and astonishment, Agent Brown began to softly sing the lyrics to the Broadway tune, in a rich baritone.

I have brought you
to the seat of sweet
music's throne . . .
to this kingdom
where all must pay
homage to music . . .
music . . .

You have come here,
for one purpose,
and one alone . . .

Celia slowly closed her eyes, as Brown’s voice whisked her away, taking her back to the catacombs beneath the Opera Populaire. In her mind’s eye, she now inhabited the role Christine Daae as Brown magically transformed into her Phantom.

Night-time sharpens,
heightens each sensation . . .

Darkness stirs and
wakes imagination . . .

Silently the senses
abandon their defences . . .
Slowly, gently night unfurls

its splendour . . .

Grasp it, sense it -
tremulous and tender . . .

Turn your face away
from the garish light of day,
turn your thoughts away
from cold, unfeeling light -
and listen to
the music of the night . . .

Celia’s heart palpitated with excitement, abandoning all coherent thought; she was lost in her fantasy.

Softly, deftly,
music shall surround you . . .

Feel it, hear it,
closing in around you . . .

Let your soul take you where you
long to be!

Only then
can you belong to me . . .

Amazed at her agent’s obvious talent, “You have a beautiful voice, has anyone ever told you that, Brown?"

The youthful agent blushed a bit from embarrassment. He didn't mean to start serenading his date, but the romantic ambience of the evening got the best of him. Celia's intoxicating beauty was enough to make any man get carried away. He had quickly downloaded the entire score of the Phantom of the Opera into his files after he had obtained the tickets to the show. But he never thought that he would actually have opportunity to show Celia what he had learned.

"Thank you. I usually don't have an audience, since most of my performances are in the shower." he replied with a smile on his lips.

Celia closed her eyes and pulled the man she loved even closer to her,
breathing in the essence of his manly scent. She smiled to herself as she pictured what Brown would look like stepping out of that same shower, thoroughly wet and more importantly, thoroughly nude.

Celia sighed contentedly, "Well, you can sing in my shower anytime you want to."

"How about tomorrow morning then? I will give you a command performance that you will never forget," Brown whispered huskily before kissing the outer shell of her ear.

"Well, I don’t know about tomorrow morning, maybe after we’ve gotten to know each other a little better? I do have one request though: will you sing tunes from the "Phantom" for me?" Celia asked hopefully.

"For you, my love, I'll sing anything you want."

Celia smiled radiantly and Brown held her body closer to his. Now more than ever, he wanted to possess her, to make her his own and take her to the limits of ecstasy as they shared in the ultimate act of intimacy. But this was their first date after all and even though he wanted her very badly, Brown would not force himself on her—although he had the shrewd suspicion that the lust he was feeling was mutual and Celia wanted to be his as much has he wanted her.

Suppressing what was a sigh of disappointment, Brown laid his cheek against Celia’s and was heartened when she leaned further against his body. Undoubtedly there would be a perfect time and place for them to discover each other fully, but it was not now. But someday soon, it would be. Besides, the longer the delay for the consummation of their relationship, the more anticipation would grow in both of them.

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Like all fairy tales, this one ended and it was just after 1:30 a.m. when Brown and Celia decided to call it a night. With their arms around each other’s waists, they left the sumptuous ballroom; however, neither would forget the magical spell the evening had cast.

Both had consumed a fair quantity of champagne and although not technically drunk, Celia and Brown were not far from it either. Like Lara on her first date with Jones, Celia did not know quite what to do when it came to saying goodbye. Should I say goodbye here in the hallway of my apartment building or should we go upstairs to my place? Trying to clear her head from the effects of all the alcohol she had consumed, Celia pondered her options.

Oh, to hell with it, she thought. I don’t want to take my leave from Brown just yet any more than he does. I want to stay with him for as long as decently possible. Brown looked relieved when Celia broached the idea of coming up to her place and Celia knew there would be no regrets.