Below The Balcony

Spring term finals were coming up fast, and the Miami/Dade University library was crowded with students, all searching for books on their subject, or else already hunched over them at the many tables and carrels that lined the walls and main floor of the library. The overhead lights looked down on a scene being played out at colleges around the world, but none seemed so significant as that happening right here...not to the lurker in the stacks known as BobaFett.

Study was not exactly on his mind. He was moving slowly, purposefully through one set of stacks of reference books, but his gaze was directed not on the books, but through them...
The object of his attention sat square in the center of the main library floor, at one of the study tables, surrounded by four of her friends. They had come to the library to study together, but she was really the only one of the group actually serious about study. The others seemed more interested in preening for the nearby table of boys, who seemed more interested in the girls than in studying.

She was different. Fett had seen that immediately. She was bent over her books and actually reading them, and doing her best to tune out the mirthful undertow of her friends who surrounded her. It had taken some maneuvering, but with a bit of luck and a pocket telescope, he had learned her name was Melanie....and that her subject was architecture....

Now he waited, having actually left the library for a ten minute span to move quickly off-campus and return again. She had still been there, but now something else was needed. It was going to be necessary to get her to move away from her books for a short amount of time. That was going to be a problem. Yes, she was a serious student...and that meant that she was firmly embroiled in her subject at the moment. If a table full of eligible boys couldn't distract her, how was he going to get her to leave her place for the few precious moments he needed, and then return?

The answer turned out to be surprisingly simple.
The study tables were also occupied by internet computer terminals...and she was dividing her time between books and the internet. Over the past ten months or so, Fett had taken the time to study the architecture of the library LAN, and had learned that, while the terminals all maintained communication with the web via a central server here on campus, it was possible to send a message from one terminal to another, via a WAN chat program called Cyrus. Cyrus had been developed by another Miami-Dade student who was graduating this year, and whom BobaFett had met online in a campus chatroom. He had been glad to share his little invention with someone willing to give him cash for it, and now Fett literally had the run of the University terminals...provided he knew the LAN-assigned number of the terminal he wished to reach.

That was something he had found out by accessing the System Manager's layout of the University library...the terminal numbers were all printed on the master schematic.
Melanie was sitting at terminal 419, and Fett now had a message window opened that would pop up a LAN message window on her screen.

He moved back through the stacks to his own machine, over by the Geography section of reference, having satisfied himself that she was still there...and that her friends were still distracted by the table of boys next door. Moving quickly on the keys, he entered his message:
"...additional material on Mies van der Roh is available in the discussion room lobby, where a lecture was held earlier this morning." Perfect. Now, to see if she would take the bait...

He was up again and moving through the stacks...a man on a mission. He reached his observation point and waited. The other girls were engaged in an animated discussion (in lowered tones) with the boys at the next table. Melanie still poured over her book before her...and on the screen in front of her was now a bright blue Cyrus message window...
Three of her friends stood up and went over to the next table to be a bit closer to the objects of their attention. The remaining friend was now sitting largely with her back to the table. Melanie turned a page of the book and read on a bit, then looked up at her terminal screen...and froze...
Fett felt his heart pounding. This was it. THE moment.

She read the message, then looked around the main room of the library in momentary confusion, shrugged, stood up, and began walking toward the discussion room near the back of the reference section...
Fett moved out slowly, but in a straight line...acting as if he had just found the book he had been seeking and was now looking for a spot to camp and read. Between the tables, all the way up to her spot...where he carefully set down his little gift in passing, completely unseen by her friends, hung a right and another right, doubling back on his course, and headed back into the stacks...

Melanie returned with two magazines, which Fett had planted outside the discussion room deliberately with her in mind – Architectural Digest, featuring works of Mies van der Roh, and Fett watched, exulting inwardly.

She stopped at her place and looked down, blinking. There was a color photo book on her subject, the architectural work of Mies van der Roh, and a single fresh rose laying atop it, along with a card.
She picked up the card and opened it.

"For a fair lady...a small gift," it read. Hardly a small gift: the book itself was priced at thirty dollars. The card was unsigned. She blushed slightly, and began looking around the main room again. There was no sign of anyone doing anything out of the ordinary...
...except for the pair of eyes watching her between geographic reference books, two stacks over...

Perfect! Perfect! Fett broke off observation and moved to his terminal, shut down Cyrus and returned the screen to the blank message window of the Campus browser. He picked up his books and moved out of the library....

Melanie was confused, but in a happy and simultaneously annoyed way. Somebody obviously was studying her, and having someone interested in herself was both flattering and interesting...however, this person was a mystery....and, much to her annoyance, her friends were clueless.
"You didn't see anyone?" she asked Angela, her best friend, who had remained at the table.

Angela shook her head. "But I was talking to Mike," she admitted. "I had my back to the table."
"So what happened?" asked Korinne, walking back over to the table. "What made you get up and leave in the first place?"

"This message," said Melanie, nodding at her terminal screen. Her friends clustered around her and read the message window.

"Hey, that's a Cyrus window!" said Dawn, the only computer science student of the group. "Somebody Cyrused you! "What's that?" asked Melanie.

"Cyrus is a targeted chat application Doug Freund wrote for his term project last year," said Dawn. "He wanted a way to chat with other terminals on campus, even though it's not supposed to be possible, so he designed a client-server protocol that fools the server...."

"...yeah, yeah, tekkie-tekkie," said Korinne, laughing. "So what does it mean, Dawn?"
"It means that Melanie has a secret admirer," said Carmen, the last of the group. "AND he's a tekkie, like Dawn."

Melanie smiled, a little bemused. "So how do I find out who he is?" she asked.
"It might be a she, Mel," said Korinne, wincing as she took an elbow from Angela.
"Well, Cyrus always leaves an address for both ends of the chat message on the server," said Dawn, sitting down in Melanie's chair and hitting the keys rapidly. "All you have to do is go into the message logs for the past hour or so and look for a Cyrus signature." She hit enter and waited...a list of times and terminal addresses came up, along with request messages. She pointed to one that had a .cyr suffix. "There's your secret admirer," she crowed.

Melanie squinted at the tiny numbers.
"That's just a string of code," she said. "That's not him."

"True," said Dawn, "but he sent the message from terminal 392, and he did it less than ten minutes ago."
"So he might still be in the building!" said Carmen. "Ooohhh! This is exciting! It's better than watching SURVIVOR!"

"No, he won't be in the building anymore," said Korinne, shaking her head. "He's gone, Mel." Korinne was the Psych major. "He's not going to stick around: guys who do stuff like this never do."
Melanie looked at her, pouting slightly. "Why not?"
"Because he's probably a wallflower," she said. She got blank looks and went on. "It's an ancient term for a geek," she said. "He's probably not very good looking and he doesn't want to be seen. He just likes you and wanted to give you something."
"You mean he doesn't want me to see him?"

"Probably not. He's probably terminally shy and not very good with women."
Melanie frowned.
"Well, he's certainly got my attention," she mused.
Angela was smiling. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" she said. She looked at Carmen. "She's a total softie for shy guys."

Melanie glared at her, but only mockingly. "I think it's sad," she said. "This guy is probably really sweet...and he's probably really lonely..."
"Oh, he's lonely all right," said Korinne knowingly. "But he's found a way to deal with it." She looked at Melanie. "This is the equivalent of a kiss," she said.
Melanie blushed again.
Angela shook her head.

"Nice going, Korinne – you just set the hook," she said, watching Melanie.
Melanie ignored her, looked at Dawn.
"Is there any way of finding out who this guy is?" she asked.

"Well, you can download Cyrus off a floppy," said Dawn, "so he probably took it off the machine as soon as he was done. The best way would be to see if we can trace him while he's doing it." She looked at Korinne. "Do you think he'll try again?
Korinne shrugged. "Impossible to predict," she said. "But if we repeat the circumstances identically tomorrow..."

Melanie nodded. "Okay, so we all meet back here tomorrow, same time?"

"Okay by me," said Paul at the next table.
"Yeah, and take a shower before you do!" said Carmen, laughing at him.
Twenty four hours stretched interminably. Back in her dorm, Melanie was quietly going nuts, her mind running in circles around her mysterious 'secret admirer.' Was he ---tall? Handsome? Not likely? Probably shorter, according to Korinne's profile...maybe wore glasses....probably quiet and bookish...he might be into Science Fiction or Fantasy. Melanie looked hopefully up at her wall poster of Anakin Skywalker – which her friends were constantly teasing her about –but she didn't care: she still thought he was hot... All of these things were buzzing around in her mind, which made studying impossible: not that she needed to anymore, though – the gift book had supplied more than enough material for her term paper.
She sighed and fell back on her bed....the bottom edge of her shirt riding up on her ribs as she folded her hands behind her head. She looked up at her ceiling and tried to picture this mystery man....

Across town, BobaFett was online, chatting with an old friend...

"...it was so perfect!" he typed. "The timing was perfect, no one saw me, and she was totally blown away by it! I stayed and watched and she couldn't let it go!"
"You seem to have her attention now," came the reply. "What is your next move?"
"I was going to try to leave her a note," he said. "I'd really like to meet her, but not yet. I just wanted her to know I think she's really cute."
"Well, if finals are next week, then you still have time," came the reply. "She'll probably be there again tomorrow. Will you 'strike' again?"
"Yes!" Fett typed. "Twice in the same week! It'll drive her crazy!"

In the library, Korinne was pretending to read her book, but was actually looking up at regular intervals, scanning the room.
"Will you stop that!" said Carmen, smacking her hand. "You're going to blow the whole operation!"
"Relax, Carmen: this isn't Mission Impossible," said Angela, keeping her eyes on her own book. "Korinne, do you see anyone suspicious?"
"They're all suspicious," Korinne said. "That's the problem."
Dawn was tapping at the keys of the terminal next to Melanie's.
"Okay," she said, "basically I've set up a window straight into the server's message logs, which means I'm monitoring all the traffic into the server. Mostly it's requests for books. This," she pointed to one line of numbers, "is your mystery man's terminal: 392. We're at the same table we were at yesterday,...."
"...so it stands to reason that he'll use the same terminal," said Korinne. She was barely able to see the terminal in question – it was tucked out of sight back behind the geography books in the reference stacks, but she could just make out the screen of the monitor: they had gone into the stacks and arranged the books so that Korinne had a clear view of the targeted terminal.
Melanie was completely nervous and found it almost impossible to study anything. She wanted to keep looking up, but forced herself to pretend to read, turning pages she hadn't even glanced at.
It was nearly a half hour before Dawn spoke quietly.
"Korinne, what do you see?"
Korinne glanced up, then back down at her book.
"Someone's there," she said. "There's a head blocking the screen."
"Oooohhhh!" said Carmen. Korinne smacked her hand. "Shut up," she suggested.
Dawn watched her own screen. "There's a server request from 392," she said. "...and here comes our Cyrus protocol. Yup...this is our man."
"Ooohhh...let's go see what he's like!" said Carmen.
"Carmen, you move your fat ass and you are toast," said Korinne.
"My ass isn't as fat as yours!" said Carmen, only slightly offended.
"He's logged in," said Dawn, "but he hasn't done anything yet. Wait...." She watched the screen before her carefully. "Oh Ho....he's logging into Yahoo," she said. "And there goes the IM chat protocol. He's talking to someone else."
Korinne nodded thoughtfully. Melanie looked at her.
"What?" she asked.
Korinne shrugged. "It sounds a little bit like Cyrano de Bergerac," she said. "The young suitor is seeking counsel...perhaps with his mentor..."
Carmen was literally squirming in her chair.
"I can't stand this!" she complained. "I feel like I'm going to explode!"
"Have another peach danish," Korinne advised. "You can put us all out of your misery, then."
Dawn was frowning.
"He's not doing anything with Cyrus, yet," she said. "It's all IM chat....which is a neat trick in itself, since the campus server is supposed to have a firewall blocking IM chat. This guy is good..."
Angela was watching Melanie.
"You could just go over and introduce yourself," she said.
Korinne shook her head. "He might bolt," she said. "You'd never see him again."
"I think we need to get up and move away from the table," said Carmen. "That's what we did yesterday!"
"Yeah, but it has to look natural," said Korinne. "What would pull us away from here?"
"Other than a bunch of guys," said Angela.
"Let's go get a snack!" said Carmen. "The machines are over by the lounge!"
"Perfect," said Korinne. "We can watch the table from there. Mel, you stay here. Dawn, can you keep that channel open and fix it so he can't see what you're up to?"
Dawn nodded. "I'll just minimize it and run a browser request for a book," she said.
"Okay," said Korinne, standing up, "let's go get your danish, Carmen."

The girls left their books and moved toward the vending machine room, which had several table in it. Snacks were not allowed in the main library, so they would have to remain there until finished with their food.
Melanie resisted the urge to look back behind her.
"I feel like I'm walking away from a buried treasure," she muttered.
Angela nodded. "I know what you mean," she said.
Once at the machines, it was Carmen who spotted their man.
"He's there!" she hissed, glancing out through the glass wall and turning to look at Melanie.
Melanie glanced sideways, but her view was blocked by a passing student.
"What's he like?" asked Angela.
"Short....glasses.....kind of thin...dark hair..."
Korinne nodded. "Classic Geek," she said. "Probably stays up reading comic books all night."
"He's leaving something!" Carmen hissed, looking over Korinne's shoulder. "There he goes...he's gone!"
"Okay, back to the table," said Korinne, finishing her small coffee. "And keep quiet, all of you."
This time, it was two roses....and a note.
Dawn brought up the messaging log again.
Melanie had the note open and was reading.
"What does it say?" Carmen hissed.
"Carmen, you are about as subtle as a cement truck," said Korinne.
"It's personal," said Melanie, folding the note. She slipped it into one of her books.
"Ooohhh...you can't DO that!" said Carmen.
Melanie blushed and looked at her.
"...'for the fair lady...and the hopes she will favor me with a smile one day,'" she quoted.
Korinne looked at her.
"I can see the screen," she said. "That means he's watching you."
"Ooohhh...this is just like a stalker!" said Carmen.
Korinne nodded.
"Here's your big chance," she said. "Flash him a nice one."
Melanie blinked, then lifted her head, and beamed.
Nothing happened, of course.
Melanie dropped her smile and glowered at the table. "I feel like an idiot," she muttered.
Angela shook her head.
"Don't," she said. "I think you just made his day."
Korinne nodded. "He's at the terminal again.
Dawn nodded. "He's there, all right."
"So NOW what?" asked Carmen.
"Well, NOW,...." said Korinne, "it's up to Mel. This is the perfect time to get the drop on him: just walk over there."
Melanie shook her head, then nodded, then looked at Korinne.
"Do you think he's safe?" she asked.
Korinne nodded. "He's probably miserable and thinks you'd never give him a glance," she said. "Kind of like Phantom of the Opera..."
"That's so SAD!" said Carmen.
Melanie stood up, and began walking back toward the geography section.
"He's gone...!" said Korinne behind her suddenly. "The screen...I can see it again!"
Dawn blinked at her own screen....
"but his IM chat window is still open," she said.
"He saw her! He's onto us!" said Korinne. "Mel, get to that terminal before someone else does!"
Melanie turned and ran back through the stacks. At the back of the row, she came to an empty internet carrel...the screen still flickering...and on it, was a small Yahoo chat window....
Behind her, she felt the presence of her friends.
"...his name is Bobaxxfett?" she said.
"That's a Star Wars character," said Korinne. "He's probably a Sci-Fi freak."

"Hello?" appeared the line in the chat window. The name beside it and unfamiliar string of letters that seemed a meaningless jumble. "Is she moving?" asked the chat window.
Melanie stared at the screen.
"Hello, Cyrano!" said Korinne, grinning at the screen. She looked at Melanie. "Here's his advisor," she said. "Wanna chat?"
Melanie looked at her, then back at the screen....and slowly sat down in the chair before it.
Carmen returned, puffing slightly.
"He's gone," she said. "He ran out the entrance leading toward the arts building." She paused, hands on knees, and lowered her head. "He runs fast," she observed to no one in particular.
"hello," Melanie typed.
There was a pause.
"Ah....Melanie, I presume?" said the chat window.
"How did you know?" she typed.
"Your handwriting is different," replied the chat window. Dawn stifled a hoot of laughter.
"Who is Bobaxxfett?" typed Melanie.
"Ah, well," said the chat window, "I really couldn't tell you, since I don't really know him myself. We only just met a few weeks ago online, here in IM chat. I can tell you a few things about him, that's about it."
Melanie looked at Korinne.
"This doesn't seem fair to him," she said.
Korinne shrugged.
"How fair is it to give you gifts and vanish without even saying 'hi'?" she said. "This isn't really violating his rights or anything. HE ran, after all."
The chat window was talking again.
"I understand you're interested in architecture," it said. "Are you at all familiar with the work of Louis Sullivan?"
Melanie blinked and began typing again.
"He was in Chicago, right?" she typed.
"A brilliant architect," said the chat window, "and a master craftsman. Tragically, he died penniless and forgotten, but some of the best buildings in Chicago were created by him."
Korinne nudged her.
"Ask about the book," she suggested.
"He bought me a book," Melanie typed. "Why?"
"Ah," said the chat window, "that is probably because he is very fond of you. He's been watching you for nearly a month, now."
Melanie bit her lip, then typed.
"Is he ugly?"
"No, I don't think so," said the chat window. "Actually, he comes off as being more overly self-conscious. He lost his last girlfriend for trivial reasons and I think he's searching for a deeper meaning to the rejection, when the truth is that she was a rather shallow girl."
Melanie stared at the screen thoughtfully. Then she typed.
"Tell me about him, please."
The chat window flickered, remained blank for almost half a minute, then...
"Well, where do I start?" it said. "We met online indirectly at first, through a common-interest group..."
Melanie looked up at Korinne, who nodded, then returned her gaze to the screen. The chat window continued as she watched, fascinated, and a small smile began to form on her lips...
"...I don't know," Melanie said, pulling her shirt front down slightly as she, Korinne and Dawn walked across the campus. "I feel like I've been a peeping tom or something, prying into his personal life."
"You ARE his personal life," said Korinne, swatting at her hand. "Leave that alone," she remarked. "You have to get used to the feeling, and that's not going to happen if you keep pulling it down."
"I'm cold!"
"It's 80 degrees out," said Korinne. "You're just feeling a draft in an unfamiliar place."

"What if he doesn't like it?"
"Cyrano said he loves that sort of thing," said Korinne. "You're doing something he likes, okay?"
Melanie looked up pensively as they approached the library.
"What if he's not here?"
"Oh, he'll be here, all right," said Korinne. She looked up at the library building and grinned. "He can't resist: he knows you'll be here."
Dawn chuckled.
"I'll bet he's really kind of cute," she said. "I can't wait to actually see his face!"
"One thing at a time, okay?" said Korinne. "Let's let our femme fatale have a shot at him first."
"I wish you wouldn't call me that," said Melanie as they climbed the steps. "I don't want him to think I'm Mata Hari or something."
"Girl, right now, you are his idee fixe," said Korinne. "You're on a pedestal: get used to it."
Long straight black hair that hung down to her mid-back, Melanie had taken the time to adorn it near the top with a silver comb piece in the back which bunched it together slightly. Her face still bore the usual glasses, but she'd opted for the thin metal frames this time, hoping they'd be less obtrusive. The lip gloss she'd chosen was a subtler pink, and a slight amount of blush to the cheeks...VERY slight, helped make her more comfortable with the look.
The showpiece was the ensemble: at Korinne's insistence, they'd gone to the local mall and picked her up a set of 'dangerously low' Levi's jeans, the kind that buttoned down the front, and a light, airy cropped top which displayed a part of her anatomy Melanie was not used to displaying: her belly. Actually, she had a lovely, smooth belly – navel NOT pierced – but she hadn't put quite the effort into hunting boys that many of her peers had, which made her a bit unsure of the entire scene. The high top she wore still felt strange and...exposing. She had never felt more vulnerable in her life.
"I feel like a piece of meat in a supermarket display case," she'd murmured to Korinne after trying on the jeans and top.
"Mel, that's what you ARE, technically," Korinne had told her. "Men are primarily VISUAL, and without eye-candy, their attention wanders. If you want to reel this boy in, you have to bait the hook with something more substantial than promises."
In the library's main room, they headed for what had become 'their table.' Smack in the middle of the main hall, under the lights, no cover whatsoever...
"Two minutes, Miss Campbell," said Korinne as they walked into the library.
"Shut up," said Melanie, elbowing her.
Carmen and Angela were already there...Carmen waved enthusiastically as they approached. Melanie wanted to sink into the floor.
"God, Mel," said Angela as Melanie sat down opposite her across the table, "you look like a rock-star's main squeeze!"
Korinne shook her head – too late.
"Enough," she said. "Showtime."
Carmen leaned over the table.
"Check your line of sight," she said. "I made sure the section on Hawaii was all the way over to the left side of the rack. I don't think he knows how we spotted him the last time."
Korinne sneaked a glance to her left, nodded, and opened one of her books before her. "Chapter One," she whispered. "Melanie phone Cyrano."
Melanie took a deep breath, put her fingers to the keys of the computer terminal before her, and began typing. Beside her, Dawn watched.
"Okay, now back out of that," said Dawn. "Now, click up there. Set the protocols to 'firewall, no proxies.' Okay, now 'apply.' Click 'okay' there. Now log in."
Melanie typed her new online nickname, 'Ayesha,' and waited. Her homepage appeared. She clicked onto the IM channel, and the chat control panel appeared.
"He's there," she said.
Korinne turned the page. "Tell him 'good morning,'" she said.
Melanie clicked on the name, then typed a greeting.
A line of type appeared in the chat window.
"Ah, well, good morning to YOU," it said. "Interesting online name you've chosen."
"Korinne picked it for me," she said. "She's the literate one. She said it sounded like...a belly dancer's name."

"VERY literate," remarked the chat window. "Ayesha....the name from H. Rider Haggard's SHE, being the name of 'She who must be Obeyed,'...."
Melanie glared over at Korinne, who gave her a puzzled look.
"I may change that later," Melanie typed.
"No problem," replied the chat window. "So, what's on the agenda today? Do you surround him and tie him to a chair?"
"I just want to meet him," she typed. "I told my friends to leave us alone. Will you help?"
"Of course," replied the chat window. "I love playing matchmaker. The fact that you two are already so close only helps matters along."
"I don't even know him yet," she typed.
"I meant geographically," replied the chat window. "He's probably less than 100 yards away from you right this moment."
"Are you chatting with him?" she typed.
"Yes, but he's at a different terminal. I think he's...upstairs?...from you."
Melanie's eyes swept the railings of the floor above: the central hall had a clear view to building's internal roof structure, since the second and third floors above had been left open directly above the main study area. There were stacks up there, of course, and internet terminals...but now the search was going to be more difficult.
"So tell me more about him," she typed.
A brief pause, then:
"He sees himself as a 'geek,'" said the chat window. "This isn't necessarily a pejorative, not in this day and age, when the most successful man on the planet is a 'geek.' He blames this, in part, on the recent break-up with his girlfriend. Actually, I think she was more interested in pursuing someone else. However, he is resigning himself to a life alone."
"That's sad," she typed. "Is he sad?"
"Hmmm...at times," said the chat window. "The feeling I get is that he is trying to accept the loss of his last girlfriend as inevitable, his status as a 'geek' as inevitable, and is looking ahead toward a rather cloistered future in which most of his sexual life is spent alone with magazines."
"And you don't know what he looks like?"
"No, but my experience suggests he is far more critical of his looks than the actual reality of his appearance admits. This is a common affliction of youth...and humans in general. We are always our own worst critics. For example: I'll bet you 'dressed' for him today, didn't you?"
"How did you know?"
"Just call it an educated guess. So, you feel FAT, right?"
"Not really..."
"Oh come on: you feel like a COW, sagging out over your beltline...admit it!"
"How did you get to be so smart?"
"Good genes. It's a family curse. What color top did you choose?"
"Light blue...it's a lace-front."
"Ah....adjustable..." The chat window paused. "Versatile and very foresighted of you. Perfect. The blue is also a good choice. Ready for some choreography coaching?"
"What?"
"He's left his terminal and he's watching you right now."
Melanie felt a warm blush spread over her cheeks, down her throat and over the top of her breasts...
"Think of me as your dance coach," said the chat window. "You know he likes girl's tummies: here's your chance to be his little belly dancer. First, talk to your friends....you've been at the terminal and need a break."
Melanie looked over at Korinne.
"He's watching us right now," she said quietly. "Cyrano says to give him a show."
Korinne nodded, closing her book.
"That's perfect," she said, and looked at Carmen. "Don't you agree, Carmen?"
"Oh, yes!" said Carmen, leaning forward, excitement in her eyes.
"Now," said the chat window, "being at one position at a terminal is cramping – you need to yawn and stretch...and make it a nice BIG stretch: straighten your legs out and really reach above your head...."

Melanie bit her lip slightly, but put her best effort into the yawn and the stretch...leaning far back in her chair, her butt sliding forward as she straightened her legs and tensed the muscles...and for good measure, sucked in her belly slightly. Her navel stretched into a tantalizing dark slot in her smooth belly as she did this.
Korinne smiled.
"I just felt a change in the room," she said. "Did anyone else notice it?"
Dawn shrugged. Angela nodded, though.
"I sense tension," she said. "Something feels like...I don't know...like there's this charge in the air..."

Melanie returned to her seated position.
The chat window flickered again.
"If you did that right," it remarked, "I rather imagine he's having a hard time remaining standing at the moment...he'll probably want to return to his study carrel....but he'll be torn between that and continuing to watch you, hoping you'll do something else."
"Something with my belly?" Melanie typed.
"Yes, essentially," replied the chat window, "however you have a number of options as to exactly what to do."
Melanie coughed. Her belly tightened and pulled inward involuntarily.
"That was good!" said Carmen, nodding in approval.
Melanie pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking, then, slowly, moved her hands to her hips, placing the palms flat against the upper sides of her butt...and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and expanding her chest. Her tummy sucked in deeply, becoming a smooth, concave expanse of creamy flesh, the navel stretching luxuriously.
"Oh....my....god...." said Angela, watching. "I think you probably just made him cream in his jeans."

Korinne was nodding in approval.
"I think we've gotten his full attention now," she whispered.
Melanie sat back up slowly and put her fingers to the keyboard again.
"I just leaned back and took a deep breath, and sucked my gut in," she said.
"Ah – I'm sure he'll like THAT!"
"Is he back yet?"
"You mean to his terminal? One moment..." There was a brief pause. Then: "No, he doesn' t respond: I would guess he's still watching you, and probably smitten with desire right about now."
"How did he feel about us chasing him yesterday?"
"He is convinced you don't know who he is, still," replied the chat window. "I have not informed him of your knowledge or of our conversation after he abandoned his terminal. He did return later to close down his IM chat logon, after you had left. So far, he is unaware of our association."
"When he comes back on, can you keep him talking? I want to surprise him."
"That shouldn't be a problem. I imagine he'll want some advice on what to do for his 'next move' with you."
"What next move?"
"He was planning another gift – a book on Frank Lloyd Wright, I believe."
"That's too expensive – he shouldn't spend so much money on me."
"Really? How sweet of you! He'll appreciate that...but he'll still want to get it for you."
Melanie frowned.
"Ah...he has returned," said the chat window. "I will delay him. You may make your move when ready."
"I'm going in," said Melanie, standing up. She resisted the instinctive urge to pull her top down in front again.
"You want us to cover the exits?" asked Carmen.
"No...just wait here," said Melanie. "I don't want to scare him away again."
Korinne nodded.
"Go get him!" she said.
Melanie took a deep breath, and headed for the stairs.

The second floor was a quick study...she was able to walk the whole circumference around the central well in about two minutes, finding nothing unusual, but stopping to check a few of the guys who were on internet terminals in study carrels. Nobody fit the description, so she moved on up the stairs to the third floor. She was about halfway through walking around it when she spotted a carrel far down an aisle of books...and the guy occupying it struck a strange vibe in her. She walked quietly down the aisle, her feet barely seeming to touch the carpet, and as she drew closer, she saw the IM chat window open on the terminal's screen. The guy was typing and she moved up to look at the screen.
"How do I tell her that she's so cute she makes me want to hold her forever?" he was typing. Melanie's heart did a little flip/flop as she read the words. She looked at him....the dark hair was unkempt, but not bad looking. The glasses were a little nerdy. The clothing...well, that could be changed.
How to DO this? Hmmmmm...

She frowned, momentarily puzzled, then a smile crossed her face. Her thumbs went to her front pockets and pulled down...exposing more belly. She stepped up closer, checked her position, then cleared her throat.
He jumped as if he'd been shot and whirled around...to find himself facing her belly. Her navel was poised inches from his face.
"I wanted to thank you for the book," she said, smiling.

He was about her age, and the chat buddy had been right: he wasn't really bad looking. A little neglected...the hair could be neatened up a bit, but maybe she liked it this way....and the glasses needed upgrading to a new style. His eyes were as big as saucers and he stared at her belly momentarily before his eyes shot up to her face.
She smiled gently.
"That was really nice, what you did for me," she said. "It helped me finish my term paper ahead of schedule."
"Uh....sure, no problem," he said, his voice coming out a bit strained and, she noticed, slightly scared. Time to put that to rest.
"I was wondering," she said, "if you could help me out with some of my other studying. Finals are still going on, you know."
"Wha – what subjects?" he asked.
"Well, I'm taking English Lit., Trig and Mechanical Drawing," she said. "Can you help with any of those?"
"Maybe the English Lit," he said, still looking up at her...with something now looking almost like worship in his eyes.
"That's great!" she said. "Maybe you could come over to my place: I'm rooming with three other girls in a house off campus." She put her thumbs in her front jeans pockets and leaned back against the metal shelves behind her, unconsciously pulling her belly in. His eyes got wider. "Do you know anything about comic books?" she asked.
He blinked and swallowed.
"Sure!" he said.
"Good, because I've got some old ones I'm thinking about selling," she said. "I don't know what they're worth, so I need an 'expert opinion.' They're mostly old Legion of Superheroes. You know the title?"
He nodded.

"I need the money to pay for the X-Box I want to buy next week," she said. "Anything you can tell me about what they're worth would be great."
She smiled and...much to her delight...he smiled back.
"Hey, want to come meet my friends?" she asked, cocking her hips to one side – a move that put a delicious crease across the center of her stomach. "They'd like to meet you, too, and they're all really cool."

"Sure," he said, not looking at all sure, but seeming willing to face anything now that he was known to Melanie.
"Great!" She looked around, glanced at the screen. "You might want to close down your chat window," she observed. "I don't think the librarians would appreciate finding that running."
"Huh? Oh...right!" He turned to the machine, typed a quick "Bye!" and logged off.
"So...my name's Melanie," she said, putting out one hand. "What's yours?"
"I'm Ron," he said.

"Ron...nice name," she said, smiling. She put out a hand. "Come on!"
He reached out, took her hand...and stood up...

Part Two
It was the beginning of something entirely new in his life...and something that was terribly exciting.
Melanie was completely unlike any other girl he'd ever met. She was, for one thing, almost devoid of the snappy contempt most women seemed to have for guys in general: she was genuinely sweet and very considerate of his feelings, sometimes putting them before his own – something he adored about her. Add to that the fact that she was a fan of comic books (her current favorite was 'Aria', a specialty 'art comic' that was produced by a very small publishing house) and a killer competitor at video games (she knew 'HALO' inside and out) and Bobaxxfett was beginning to think the Universe had set him up for a major fall.
But it didn't happen. A lot of the time, they'd be sitting quietly in his own bedroom (the door left open at his Mom's insistence) and just talk, or play games on his PS-2 (she loved DRAKAN: ANCIENT'S GATE) or look through his comic book collection. She'd bring him over to her dorm she shared with Angela (who would conveniently have studying to do elsewhere) and they'd play on her X-Box or watch TV together.
After a week of this, he was so overcome with the situation, he had to contact his online chat friend about it. He waited for a time when Melanie was not around, and then poured the whole story out.
"So she's your 'dream woman,'" said the chat window back to him. "It would appear you have chosen wisely."
"But I can't believe it," he typed back. "It's like, it's just too good to be true, you know? I keep thinking 'something is going to go wrong.'"
"Keep thinking that, and it will," said the chat window. "Our thoughts and beliefs shape our reality as strongly as anything. 90% of everything that happens to us is created by us. The other 10% is circumstance. Believe nothing will go wrong, and nothing will."
"I don't know if I can believe that."
"Oops...my online girlfriend just came on...."
"Okay...bye..." he typed glumly.
He didn't know if he could believe in believing in it.
But it eased his expectations of doom, and...much to his surprise, nothing bad happened. In fact...some really good things began to happen.
She had known, of course, about his fascination with her tummy. They were getting along really well together. So it should have come as no surprise to him that she wanted to encourage that...but it DID surprise him, anyway.
The first incident focusing his awareness more sharply upon HER awareness took place three days into their 'relationship.'
The had been watching television (the movie had grown boring) together in her dorm room, and it was getting late, and it was hot outside, and the air conditioning wasn't working....the last problem Mel had solved early by switching to a white peasant top, the sleeves off the shoulder and ruffled, the bottom ending in a light fluff of fabric at the bottom of her ribs, showing a large expanse of her smooth tummy.
Almost before he knew it, she had fallen asleep.

He lay there beside her for some time, looking at the beautiful innocence of her face, before turning his attention lower. A thin gold chain of tiny links adorned her waist, and had slipped to a few inches below her navel, an inch or so above the top of the low-cut shorts she was wearing. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her tummy for a while as she lay tangled in the sheets, then he very carefully moved his body until his face was scant inches above that lovely tummy. A light crease down the middle traced a line from her breastbone to the top of her navel. Twin creases down the sides emphasized the soft toned look of her belly – there was muscle there, but supple and softened by the soft flesh around it. The most

lovely white expanse of female flesh he had ever seen. Up close, he could easily view her completely adorable navel, and he lowered his face until his lips brushed her tummy and he kissed her bellybutton.

She inhaled sharply and he jerked his head up and back...but she didn't awaken. Instead, the most delicious transition occurred: her tummy sucked inward deeply as she stretched and moaned a little, her bellybutton stretching until it was a mere slit in the smooth concavity of her belly, and then a gentle ripple rolled down her tummy from ribs to pelvis as she relaxed her belly again....the sleepy stretch concluded.

He bent to kiss her navel again, this time provoking no response from her: she was deeply asleep, her tummy slowly rising and falling again. His lips lightly brushed the rim of her bellybutton, just slightly, and he lay back on his side once more and simply watched her. She was completely beautiful to him.
The next time was MUCH more obvious.

He arrived at her dorm room to find Angela already gone and Melanie greeted him at the door wearing....oh god....wearing that gauzy white peasant top...and low-cut jeans. Her belly, lovely and white and smooth...perfect...lay exposed before him, her navel a dark almond oval in the center of that beautiful expanse of smooth white skin.
She smiled – as much at his reaction as at seeing him, and opened the door. "C'mon in, Ron!" she said, smiling invitingly. As if in a dream, he stepped through the doorway and she shut the door behind him...and then turned and gazed levelly into his eyes as one hand lightly touched his chest...and she pushed him backward carefully, her eyes never leaving his, until he felt the edge of the bed against the back of his legs, and sat down, gazing directly now into the beautiful, mysterious depths of the most gorgeous navel he had ever seen.
Melanie smiled and turned to walk over to her dresser, where she stopped to pick up a book of matches...and lit first one candle, then a second candle, then a small cone of incense. The fragrant smoke began to drift around the room, carrying a scent of sandalwood. Next, she stepped to the window, and closed the curtains. Darkness filled the room, broken only by the soft glow of the candles on her dresser, amplified by the mirror mounted on the wall above the top of the dresser.
She went over to her stereo, and he saw her place a CD in the tray, then she pressed a couple of buttons, and soft music began to play...the alien strains of middle eastern music,...but not the typical fast and happy rhythms of the kind of middle eastern music he'd heard before: this piece was soft, and slow, and very romantic.

She walked over to the mirror again and her step was light and careful, and she was watching him...her dresser was against the wall to his right, facing his left...she carefully wrapped her hands in her hair, twisting it up in bunches in her fists and lifting them up to the back of her head...and her hips began a slow, side-to-side rolling motion....which did the most indescribably beautiful things to her belly that he had ever imagined.
"I started belly dance lessons this week," she said quietly, still moving her hips in a horizontal figure 8. "I wanted to show you what I've learned so far." She was quiet for a few moments, her hips still rolling to the music, and he felt a terrific tightness in the front of his jeans. "Did you know," she said, still moving her hips, "that in belly dance, they call the navel 'the eye?'" He watched as her navel rolled into different shapes.... 'OHHHH'....'UHHHH'.....'OHHHH'.....'UHHHHH'....and agreed with the 'eye' analogy privately....while feeling his heart banging in his chest.

She turned away from the mirror and approached him, until she stood directly before him, hands still up behind her head, wound in her hair, and smiled. "I was surprised to find out that I could always do one of the most complicated moves they teach," she said. Her hips stopped rolling, she closed her eyes and exhaled consciously...and as he watched, hypnotized, her belly pulled in at the top, just under her ribs, and then rolled like a wave down the length of her belly in a sinuous curl, slowly, just like a wave on the ocean, stopping at the top edge of her jeans. It was a reprise of that sleep ripple he had seen a couple days ago as she lay dozing, only greatly amplified here...and far more beautiful. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Was that nice?" she asked.
"That was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen," he said, white as a sheet, and the tightness in his jeans beyond belief.
She smiled and began rolling her hips again...evidently as far as she'd gotten with the basic instruction....and moved forward, standing between his legs, her belly inches from his face....belly gently swaying from side to side, navel stretching and yawing as her hips traced a figure 8....then stopped, and that delicious wave rolled slowly down her belly again, navel riding the crest of the wave like a dark surfboard....it was too much,...it was utterly delicious...


Her hands left her head, allowing her dark hair to cascade down over her shoulders...and he felt her gentle touch on his face as the hips resumed rocking...belly gently swaying....fingers on his cheeks, coaxing him forward...forward...his lips touched the dreamlike softness of warm skin, still moving in time to the music...and the fingers coaxed, caressed....glided behind his head through his hair, gently pushing him forward...and he closed his eyes and pressed his face into the heavenly softness of her belly. Warm and so soft...so soft....her belly rocked softly against his face...and his lips found her utterly gorgeous navel and kissed there, tenderly loving the most beautiful belly in the universe....she sighed, and unable to resist, his tongue came out to push deep into her navel...and her hands pressed against the back of his head, pushing him in, inviting his penetration of her body at this most delicious point of entry. He tasted her for what seemed the first time, as her whole belly shuddered, the hands coming around to caress his cheeks again...stroking along the line of his jaw...
His own arms went around her rounded hips and butt, hands pressing behind her, pushing her belly against his face, as he licked and sucked at her navel. Her hands reached down and caressed his back, as she uttered a deep, soft moan of desire, then went to her own top and pulled it up, exposing her beautiful breasts....
He was on those too, licking and pulling at the nipples, which grew stiff and hard under his lips and tongue....then back to the belly....oh, god, the belly...that most beautiful feature of her whole body. His hands came up to pinch and roll her nipples as his tongue penetrated deep into her navel again...and her whole body shuddered, pressing against him in her desire....her belly pulled inward, in...IN...her ribs arching sharply outward over the concavity of her belly's sinking deep into her body, the reflex, the reflex of desires fulfilled, as she shuddered, her breath coming in sobs now...and he realized his hand was inside her jeans...his fingers caressing the soft petals of the flower between her legs....and she stiffened, her body spasming...and cried out softly...once....twice....three times....as her climax overcame her......
She fell to her knees before him, tears flooding from her eyes, and her face fell against his arm as she quietly gasped for breath and lay there for a few minutes...he stroked her hair gently, awed at the amazing beauty of a woman in climax...then she lifted her head to gaze into his eyes, and she smiled gently.....
"Now you," she said.

It was like a dream. She pushed him back down onto the bed and straddled his body with her own...her hands working open the front of his clothes....then her fingers on his skin....warm, so warm....and then, her hand dropped out of his sight, and he felt her grip him THERE....and her hand was so warm...so warm, and ALIVE...she was looking into his eyes again, and as her hand worked carefully, gently and very knowingly, he felt his heart melting at the sight of this beautiful girl, smiling gently into his eyes, while her hands and body made love to him....
She did not remove her jeans, but confined her ministrations to his needs to her hands....and skilled hands they were. She may not have done this very much before, but she knew enough to know what and when and how....

Then, she fell back and pulled him up....he was over her....she on her back, her hair a dark cloud framing her face....and her hand still worked upon him, gently....as she sighed, and pulled her belly in...IN...sucking inward, drawing her belly into a smooth concavity again....and pulled him down until her hand had guided the end of his manhood into the soft pocket of her navel, when he pressed inward, pushing into her soft belly...her hand stroking gently and surely....and closed his eyes and shuddered as his hot love shot forth and filled the cup of her navel, hearing her soft sigh in his ear....his body clenched and trembling as jet after jet filled her navel to overflowing.....and her fingers of her other hand came up to caress his face again....the beautiful, full lips upon his own, kissing passionately as he shuddered through his climax...
He woke up in her arms, both of them laying together on her bed...the candle still flickered dimly in the darkened room, but he could see by the underside of the curtains that it was still daylight out.
He lay there, motionless, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath...and knowing that he would never be able to let her go...never....
"I'm in love with her," he typed. "I am totally, hopelessly in LOVE with this girl."
"This doesn't sound exactly like a complaint," replied the chat window. "Was there anything else?"
"What do you mean?"

"Well, you obviously don't need ME anymore," replied the chat window, "and a SMART lad would be devoting all his time and attention to his new lady-love, anyway. Here's a last bit of advice: put her FIRST in all your plans. Off you go, now: there's a good lad."
"Wait, wait!" he typed frantically, and felt Melanie's hands on his shoulders as he sat staring at the screen of his computer in his bedroom. "Wait!"
"What?" The chat window stared back, maddeningly blank.
"Thank you."
"Ah.....you could have done this all by yourself, you know. All I did was give you a bit of moral support. That's all anyone in your situation usually needs. You'll be fine. Get on, now."
The chat window blinked, and the message popped up that his friend had gone offline. He sat back in his chair, sighed, staring at the screen.
A warm hand gently caressed his cheek.
He closed his eyes.

Heaven.

The end.