[Teaser]

Location: Jason's house

Time: 1:55am, morning of fashion show

Jason's study was like the man, extravagantly expensive with a traditional charm to it. The bookshelves, made of expensive woods, carved with the utmost care, were built into the walls and only books bound with leather occupied them. Two grand windows, both which opened up out onto balconies (but the balcony view wasn't as grand), were now closed to the outside world with heavy drapes. Tall double doors, now shut, opened into this place with its high ceiling and chandelier.

When they had first arrived, all together but traveling in their own cars, the three, Cynthia, Cally, and Anna, had walked in together to Jason's section of the condo. Cynthia, her bag hanging off her right shoulder, had had her arms tightly around Cally's right, bag, arm. A nice look, but Cally suspected it was more to make sure that she stayed as a buffer to Anna than for any sign of affection. And once the door was closed and locked...

Cynthia looked around in silent awe, Cally slowly blinked to the splendor, and Anna's eyes went wide. The place was two level, with a large living room in the center, the double doors to the study on one side, and two sets of sliding doors on the other leading to the kitchen and dining room. A magnificant stairway complete with a banister started at the entrance wall and climbed up over the sliding doors to a balcony. One bedroom was over the kitchen setup; the other was over the study with an outer building wall. The inner balcony covered all four sides, looking down on the living room.

Anna quickly broke from the trio, dashed up the stairs and headed for the doors that were over the study. Casting them open, she looked in, spun around with a look of joy and victory on her face. "Hey, this is his room!" And disappeared into the master bedroom with the doors closing behind her.

"I bet!" Cynthia said quickly, sourly, and she started to move but did not move for Cally was now holding her arm.

As she turned to the woman, Cally looked into her eyes with a look of concern. "Cynth? Let her go; let her have it. It's not worth it and we need to rested for a show in the morning, okay?" Cynthia's look did not soften. Cally released her arms before continuing. "Take the other bedroom, okay? I need to receive my new beeper and it will be easier if I have the sofa, am closer to the door. Besides, Anna will probably wander, but I don't think she'll wander into your bedroom. You should not be disturbed, okay?" Cynthia shook her head silently, unsure if Cally had issued a decree or just an appraisal of the situation, and stalked off. She heard Cally lay down the computer she had been carrying in her left hand, and then, a sigh.

Cynthia turned rapidly at the stairs to look questionably, her eyes throwing down a "WHAT?".

"Be mad at Anna if you want," the athletic model, her leopard like prowness clearly apparent, said gently. "But don't be mad at me, at others, okay?" Cally lightly turned her head from side to side as she spoke, but her eyes were firmly on Cynthia without locking.

But Cynthia, her look still hardened, just nodded once and climbed away.

The messenger, a black leather clad motorcycle woman, had arrived soon after with her package. Cally, who had already unfolded her bed, signed the manifest, tipped her, and closed and locked the door. Now that the activities of the night were done, with little left of dark, she turned to getting ready for some sleep, but still one major item remained before she could drop into slumber.

In Jason's den, she had opened her lap top on his desk. As she waited for it to warm up, she turned to the contents of the package which consisted of the beeper, an instruction book, and a data module. Automatically plugging in the module to a specially configured drive, she set to the task of programming her new beeper.....and trying to decode the information that came with it. But instead of the familar startup screens, there was only static, much more intense than she had even seen before.

"What the hell?" Cally softly spoke to herself. There was a brief moment of hope as the application screen came into view with the information contained in the data module appearing. But then with a silent snap, her lap top surprised her by switching itself off.

Cally just stared at her computer, recognizing what the problem was. A virus, pure and simple. But she couldn't have put it on there, she always followed all the proper procedures. So that had to mean that someone had been playing with her machine. Or a very careless 'spy' had used an infected diskette to download information from it, information that they would find useless for the most part. The only time it had sensitive information of it was when she was using it.

Cally, normally calm and composed, was flaring as she tried to figure out who had been using her computer for a game piece, having concluded that it could only be someone using her computer without permission. Swearing under her breath at the violation and inconvenience, she set to get a protected boot diskette so she could continue, oblivious to the beep of apparently some distant clock.

<Models, Inc.> Role Play Episode 17

**RP SEASON TWO**

In Love with an Angel

[Act 1]

Location: Brian's Apartment

Time: Very Early. Morning of Fashion Show.

The lift slowly climbed up to Brian's floor, and Jason walked into the apartment. He has been told that the door would be left unlocked. Looking absent-minded and definitely not expecting Brian to be up at this hour, he started at Brian's remark, coming from the balcony.

"How's Sarah?" asked Brian, his back to Jason as he looked down to the empty streets.

"Calmer, I hope." replied Jason. "I talked to her for a while, and left. But when I returned to her hotel room half an hour later, she wasn't there any more."

"Maybe she was asleep?" Brian sounded concerned, but still did not look away from the night view..

"No... the door wasn't locked, and no one was there." Hearing Brian's breathing increase slightly, he saw the need to clarify. "It was a small room, Brian. I didn't probe and there was no need. She clearly was not there." His statement made, Jason walked into the guest room and started to undress. The room had been kept clean and tidy, but showed no signs that anyone had occupied it recently.

Jason smiled.

"I'm sure Anna and Cynthia didn't need this room when they were here." Jason said to himself, slightly amused.

Brian walked in, his eyes browsing through the room to do a final check its on condition. Satisfied, he put his mind back to Jason.

"Do you think we should go and look for her?"

"I'm sure Sarah's old enough to take care of herself," Jason replied, removing items from his jacket pocket onto the antique table by the side of the bed.

"I suppose," sighed Brian. "I'm sure she would..." BEEP. It was an alarm sounding noise which was followed by a red light flashing on Jason's electronic assistant which interrupted him.

Jason seemed to ignored the noise as he placed his somewhat rumbled jacket on a hanger..

"Uh. Your PDA..." Brian tried to be helpful and pointed out the obvious. "Well, I'd better try to get a few hours sleep before work tomorrow."

"Yeah. Yeh. Oh, my PDA, yes." Jason picked it up and open the folded device. Decided not to look at it yet, he looked at Brain and smiled. "Good night. And don't worry about too much... the house, Sarah, they'll all be fine. As the police said, everything's over now."

Already in the corridor and his back towards the doorway, Brian gave a little wave, without looking back, to show his acknowledgement of the statement.

Jason looked at his "PDA". "Interesting." He proclaimed, his smile changing from a friendly one into that of amusement.

The screen displayed "ELECTRONIC SIGNAL DETECTED IN AREA A3. INTERRUPTION SUCCESSFUL. DATA CAPTURE BEGUN."

[Act 2]

Location: Jason's house

Time: Around 2:10am, morning of fashion show

Having her computer working again, Cally quickly started to her tasks. She hadn't bothered to see which virus had infected her system, just had the software clear it while she had changed, taking the computer's sensitive components out of the room with her. There was really no mystery to way someone would want to fool with her computer. It was a compact, twin processor, little unit that would make any game the most addictive it could be. She, however, spent very little time playing on the expensive hardware.

When she had returned, the lap top was on and ready to perform her bidding.Now in a babyblue sleepshirt with bears trailing balloons on it and a long silk red kimono tied over it, she worked rapidly, occasionally sipping from the facet glass goblet of brandy. She was not surprised to find that Jason's bar was fully equipped.

The new beeper was plugged into a port of her computer, a small binder like book opened up next to it with numbered, detailed steps on each page. She typed rapidly, using the codes she had memorized, absorbing the information that flashed to the screen for a second and then vanished. The data was fantastic in some areas, a relief in others, and all of it would be a surprise to those who worked around her if they could see it.

And then the door to the den opened. Cally smoothly had her right hand atop the computer to close it and her left dropped down to her inner thigh, but she stopped tensing, even though that was not apparent, when she saw Anna at the doorway, barefoot, dressed only in a black sheer teddy.

Reaching for her brandy glass with her right, but her left hand still below the desk, she commented with her eyes locked on the redhead, "Anna, I didn't think you would still be up. Was I being too noisy?"

"Oh, no!", she replied, a popping, teenage like exclamation in her voice. "I'm just looking around, seeing what Jason likes." She glanced around the den quickly and then straight back at Cally, but only for a moment. "What are you doing in here?" Now Anna's tone changed, her voice implying, her eyes shifting from the hardbody model to her her computer and back again, slowly wetting her lips, the eyelashes raising, suggesting the untrustworthiness of being caught at a boss's desk.

"Programming my new beeper." Seeing Anna's eyebrow go up in an 'oh?' expression, the indication that she wasn't believed, she continued. "The show is not my only engagement in the upcoming days. I have three other shoots confirmed, plus I am expecting word on a few others. They all need to be able to get in touch with me."

"Must be some beeper," the implication tone not lost yet.

"All part of being successful," she replied, her tone mixed with levels of arrogance and perfection. Cally took a long drink from the goblet, thinking that it was time to diffuse this imp for the night. As she drank, her left hand moved from where it had been resting to undoing the sash on her robe. Pushing herself away from the desk, she slowly rose and glided over to Jason's bar.

She reached the bar, faced it for a moment, and then swirled around to face Anna, her robe opening as she did, her voice softening several notes. "But it can wait. We should relax for the show later." Cally slowly wetted her lips, the tip of her tongue barely visible, as she looked Anna up and down. "Would you care for a drink?" she said as she glided across the floor toward Anna.

It was not until she was halfway across the room that Anna noted, her lips parted in silent surprise, her eyes slowly blinking, that the drink that Cally was offering was from her own glass. And she was moving so swiftly upon her, being next to her right side in a moment, her right leg touching Anna's right. Offering her goblet forward, she reached out the caress Anna's hair, saying something of how she thought they really needed to relax. Anna only heard portions of Cally's soft voice, her mind telling her that is was seductive, but the heat Anna was feeling was not exciting.

Anna blinked quickly once, "No, nite!" and was away, across the living room, up the stairway, and into her room with a rapid movement of feet. Cally watched her wake, took another slow drink from her brandy, and then, closing the doors behind her, returned to her work.

[Act 3]

Location: Adam's car, car park of the Fashion Show venue

Time: 10:00am

"I'll see you in there in a few minutes", said Hillary, quickly dragged away by the organizers on her arrival at the venue, wanting to know about the late arrivals of the other models.

Monique smiled and nodded over her shoulder. Turning her head to face back to Adam, she saw that Grayson was already there with the crowd. Since today was one of work, she dressed with the attitude of a stripper, in clothes that she could easily get out of. The dress was, while short, comfortable and stylish, and its zipper over the full black length meant that she wouldn't be in it long when it came time to play quick change artist. She stood away from Adam's Porsche as he leaned against the driver's side.

Adam, on the other hand, was away from his work, so he didn't have to wear the clothes of a club owner. Or a hired gun as someone had once said to him. But though in the corduroy jeans, the laced cotton shirt, he was still far from comfortable.

"Monique," Adam said as he held her hand quickly but gently, "are you sure you wanted to be here, with Grayson around?" He nodded in the direction she had disappeared to. I mean... I'm sure she has something planned somewhere."

"You mean you don't want me to do this show?" Monique flatly stated, ending with her eyes wide and face positive with its tight lipped smile.

"No...," Adam stammered, glancing at the ground for support before looking back up at Monique. "I mean, you know, the big picture..."

"To mean leaving Models, Inc., right?" With a shake of her head, she continued, "Now?" Not giving him a chance to answer, Monique quickly blinked with confident eyes, and continued. Don't be silly... seriously. I love this job, and I think Hillary needs all of us now." Monique let the rest slide, not bothering to add about Hillary's vengeful side that could be incurred.

Adam breathed deeply. He had expected this reply, but had hoped for another.

Pushing himself up, he took her arm and escorted her towards the staff entrance of the hall, with a crowd already waiting.

[Act 4]

Location: Fashion Show

Time: Afternoon

In the scurrying of activity, there was a long line of portable vanity tables, hot lights, high directors chairs, and of course, racks of clothes, makeup artists, and lots of models from various agencies.

From MI, there was Sarah (missing), Cynthia, Cally, Julie, Anna, and Monique, all located either at various points down the ready line or out on the stage or somewhere in between, and none of the present showing signs of the violence directed against them. Here, they were the professionals they were paid to be.

Hillary was gone, having arrived in her own car, and Linda had gone with her. The organizers of the fashion show were running another shoot that day as well, one of English countrysides and horses. Bright Eyes was already assigned to that affair, her shortness easily lost when she was on the back of a horse, but another model had been slightly trampled, so a replacement was needed. Despite that time being gone, Linda's projection from her Randall&White days still carried and she was instantly asked for to fill the slot.

Since there was no problem with pulling Linda from the show, Hillary took the opportunity instantly and away they went. Kristi was left in her place as her representative. The blonde woman, very professionally dressed, was moving up and down the line, keeping an eye on the interests of her employer. A cell phone was in her instant reach should she need to contact one of the executive bosses.

Denise, a tall blonde makeup artist, was working on Cally, who had on only a short robe over a very narrow thong, but no body armor. The word had reached her, through various 'interviews' with Jon, that she was not the intended target. "Glad to see you back at work, Cally, but this kind of stuff is not your usual gig. What's up?" she said as she worked her brushes over Cally's face.

Cally waited for a moment in the flurry of cosmetics so she could talk, thinking about how short ago it had been when Hillary called her into her office, explaining how she wanted her to have more exposure than besides a model who got involved in shootings, more areas that her name was known in, that she wanted her in on this show. Hillary wanted to make her a top market item everywhere for a model, not just in the paramilitary industries. To her, that was okay and preferably now. There were occasionally tremors felt in Phatasy, Inc, enough of them to catch her attention.

[A matter that was now doubly important, since she had received her new orders.]

Denise moved off for some eye liner and Cally took the opportunity. "Hillary is making up for all the time she did not spend that much attention on me; I didn't mind, but she's feeling guilty."

"Okay!" And she went to work on Cally's eyes. Cally quickly in a side glance caught Monique just a few chairs down and of them all, it was clear that she was getting the majority of the attention.

Monique's hair was in its finally preps before she would go out in a moment, in a long but short cap sleeve and practically bare back and cut out cleavage cire gown with long gloves. She was a quiet composure of all confident smiles, staring straight ahead as people did her and complimented her. Then she was ready and she took her spot by the opening, ready to go out to the sound of the announcer, to the watchers of what she was wearing, and the flashes of cameras held by professional photographers. It was a rather exclusive show; there would be no amateurs out there taking pictures of her.

Denise pulled away and Cally moved out of the chair, leaving the robe behind and gracefully slipped into a gold liquid metal gown with a halter top. While Denise made sure that her work was not marred by tying the neck knot, two others, a Janice who pulled the back zip up, sealing Cally in, and a Doris, who placed the gold sandals on her feet, finished the touches. She then glided to her spot to wait to her entrance.

Cynthia was up for an outfit of a high neck blouse outfitted with lace in the bodice and down the back and making up the sleeves, with extra on the shoulders and the cuffs and a long black velvet skirt in high heeled boots. With the curl of her hair, her eyes were being made up to give her a very sinister look. Where Monique was confident, she was just short of arrogant, even more than Julie, who was just returning from the stage in leather pants, a white frilled and loose blouse, a bomber jacket in light tan with a huge furred collar, but she already had the jacket off and had handed it to an attendant to take it to the rack and was half out of the blouse to get into her next outfit for she had been scheduled for the most outfits out of the six that day.

She carefully sidestepped the advancing Anna, dressed in a sleeveless, open laced, tan blouse, a short, dark brown leather skirt, and suede boots with an open back at the knees, as she placed the camel Australian type hat atop her head. Despite what she thought of her half sister, this wasn't the place to carry on that war. This was the place to be professional and professional she would be. Later on would be something else. Julie was distant from Anna, in mind as well as space, when the attendant handed Anna the dark jacket to complete her outfit.

"Sarah!" Julie's head whipped around to the name, seeing the woman just entering at the far end. She quietly swore to herself and continued to her changing station, undressing on the way.

The owner of the voice, Serina, a fourtish,bony woman in charge of the back set to the show, was none too happy. "Where have you been?" the graying woman eyed the only just apologetic Sarah. "No, don't tell me, I don't want to know. You're late. Others had to fill in for you."

"Sorry," though she didn't sound like it much.

"Never mind. Get to 5; Erica will fix you up. Move, Girl, Now!" and she was gone as Sarah eased through the crowds to where Erica, short and red haired was waiting.

"You're pushing it, Sarah. Here, off with the jacket and bag and sit down."

"Okay," she replied as she slipped into the chair. "Who am I portraying?"

"Don't you even know?" Erica's eyes went wide as Sarah shook her head. "Never mind, you wouldn't know anyhow, since others took your slots, you have to take theirs!" She looked up at a TV monitor over head, showing the current listings. "Danielle Fostor's! College wear, sweaters, leggins, things like that."

Sarah's jaw dropped. "I don't do junk like that!"

"You do when you're over an hour late! Now, off with that blouse unless you want to take a chance in ruining it!" As she turned away to prepare her instruments, the reluctant Sarah unbuttoned her top to put it aside.

For all the hurry of preparation, the walk up and down the runway is very short. Sort of like a roller coaster ride. Done right, it can be just as exciting. Julie, now dressed out like a rich girl pilot, smiled as she went by the exiting Cally, and fell in line behind Monique, now in a satin crepe sleeveless jumpsuit. Cally continued to move to get out the way of the exit from the runway, idly noticing Cynthia pulling her next outfit off the rack, preparing herself mentally to get ready to change into her next outfit, which according to the overhead monitor was to be a slate blue body hugging V neck blouse and tuxedo style pants with a back zip. As she turned a corner that effectively blocked the sound from the runway and visa versa, Sarah's voice drifted over to her, none to pleasantly.

"This isn't me! I'm not going to wear this stuff!" Cally tried to search out the body to the voice in the crowd and succeeded only in pin pointing Serina. She had found Sarah. There was a sudden hush over the ready line.

"Then don't," she said quietly and deadly. "You're through. Get out."

--- THE END OF RP.17 "In Love with an Angel" ---

RP.17 Written by

*Traci "DRAGONETTES" <TH06@swt.edu>

*WhiteDog <lwdog@netspace.net.au> and

New storyline devised and edited by WhiteDog,

*Danielle Spence <danielle@corp.hp.com> and *Traci "DRAGONETTES" <TH06@swt.edu>.