Beast

Chapter 6: GYM SANCTUARY

Ashleigh got dressed in her ratty grey sweat pants and a pink shirt that had SUPERSTAR written out in rhinestones across the front. She'd been serious about working out when she had invested $90 in cross training shoes because the salesman had said it would maximize her workout.

She had purposely arrived at 5:30 even though she didn't have to be at work until 8:00. She figured she would work out for an hour to an hour and a half, take forty-five minutes to get showered and dressed, and another half hour to have breakfast in the cafeteria. She'd seen that they had egg white omelets and turkey sausage now. She'd have time to kickback and recuperate before starting her day. But best of all, by coming so early she'd get to the gym before anyone else showed up.

The Federal Building was quiet when she arrived. No one had yet arrived to visit the Social Security Office or to have their taxes prepared. None of the workers were crowding into the building carrying their cups of piping hot Starbucks and wheeling their briefcases behind them, no moms with strollers to drop their children off at the daycare before they dashed off to work.

There were just two guards who looked at her in surprise; whether it was because they were unused to seeing the stylish woman without makeup and dressed in sweats, or because it was too early to begin scanning people in. She dug out her badge and they allowed her to bypass the metal detectors. She went to the elevators; the only set that would lead to the subbasement, and nervously hit the down button.

There were lights on, thank god. She walked rapidly to the female lockers trying to remember the route; walk down the first corridor, left, left and it should be there. Viola! There it was. The lights were off in the room and she cut them on. It was clean and bright and didn't feel like a basement, so she breathed easier and put her bag into one of the lockers after retrieving a hand towel and a bottled water.

She left the lights on as she left the locker room and headed purposefully for the gym. She wouldn't look at her workout as a chore but the first step into recreating herself. Ashleigh began to hear the faint sounds of music. As she got closer she thought she heard Jimi Hendrix; All Along the Watchtower. So she wasn't alone. She was kind of relieved but also a bit disappointed. She didn't think anyone would be working out this early.

She pushed open the metal doors to the gym room and All Along the Watchtower was playing at a moderate level; not quite loud but it could have been softer. There was only one other person in the room and he was running on the treadmill. Ashleigh allowed her eyes to linger on the man. Damn he was big. He wore black nylon workout pants and a black hoodie; both damp with his sweat. The pants molded nicely along the man's butt. He had a great butt, like two boulders. His fists were pumping as he ran and she could tell that he was a white guy, but other than that couldn't tell what he looked like.

He was a giant! She could see the muscles rippling along his back as he ran, even through the hoodie. Nice.

She moved to the mat in front of the mirrors, happy that they weren't close to the treadmills, and began to stretch, thinking, 'Ugh…it's too early for this.' Her tummy rumbled and she grimaced, trying to touch her toes. Her tummy got in the way so she opted for touching her knees. After about two minutes of that Ashleigh moved to the bike. Might as well start there. She hoped the man wasn't watching her but he hadn't even glanced in her direction. Good. He was just pounding away on the treadmill.

She rode the bike for ten minutes but then her legs began to ache and her chest burned. She decided to work on her upper body and moved to the curl machine set at the second to the lowest weight. She was sweating and thinking about which machine to hit next when the music stopped. She looked up in time to see the man leaving the room with a CD in his hands. His hood shielded his face and he didn't even glance in her direction. She watched him leave and when the door shut after him she went over to the radio and turned it to Tom Joyner in the Morning.

~*~

Christopher hit the shower and tried not to scowl. The lady had come in making everything smell pink like flowers. Gyms were supposed to smell like sweat and hard labor. He'd seen girls like that before. They came in dressed in designer workout clothes and were all gung-ho the first day, maybe even the first week. But then they disappeared.

He'd seen her come in, using the mirrors so that he wouldn't have to turn around. She was curvy. Her stretchy sweat pants pulled across her more-than ample-bottom and he noted the way her rear-end moved when she walked. When she bent to stretch Christopher had stopped peeking, her butt was pointed right at the reflection in the mirror that he was using to see her. Her shirt had slipped up some and her pants had slipped down a bit and he could see cute pink panties and a bit of her crack.

He suppressed a growl. Why was this lady wearing pink and smelling pink invading his space?! And why was she in here so early? Well he had no plans of changing his workout time, so she could just change hers if she didn't like him here.

Afterwards he got dressed in fatigues, which was his uniform while working surveillance. Christopher's workout was actually factored into his workday. His boss wanted them kept in tip top shape and each man was required to spend at least three hours a week working out. He easily achieved that twice over. Most were addicted to it and like him, didn't see working out as a chore. But unlike him, they preferred having an audience and scheduled their workouts around optimum female presence.

He poured himself a 32 oz size cup of Lipton Iced Tea with Citrus and sauntered into the security room, his muscles pleasantly throbbing. Several of the guys were there guffawing and pointing. Crap…another homeless dude accosting the protectees. They'd make a call up to one of the uniformed guards to run him off.

"Yo, Beast! Check this out!" Carlos' brown face was split by a wide smile. Christopher walked over to the camera and did a double take. The pink lady—well she wasn't pink. She was a black lady; light skinned with light hair and eyes, maybe multi-racial. But she had moved to the treadmill. She had it set to a fast walk and what the guys were guffawing about was the way her butt bounced with each step. Damn…he watched for a moment before scowling and walking away.

"You were down there with her. We were taking bets that she'd get one look at your big-ass and run," Roddy said with a smirk. "She was checking you out, dude."

Christopher had just sat down in his chair to run the reports and he gave Roddy a sharp look. "I don't want no parts of your bet, and before you ask, no I'm not going to scare her." He had a bit of a country drawl to his rumbling voice.

TK made a face letting him know that's just what they had wanted. Hell, it got boring down in the basement and they found fun wherever they could. But he wasn't going to mess with a lady minding her own business when he was minding his.

"Remember that time you scared that drug dealer away?" Carlos hinted.

"That was different and you know it." They had watched the monitors and were laughing like crazy when he went up to the young thug. The dumb f**k was selling his drugs on the same corner as the freaking Federal Courthouse! How dumb could you get? Christopher had been wearing his cap pulled down low and had come up on the thug in broad daylight. He grinned and tilted his cap back.

"What you got there, buddy?" He had asked in his best redneck drawl. The young man's eyes had widened at the sight of the grinning giant with the split face.

"I-I don't know what you talking about…" He had stammered, eyes not able to leave the sight of the monster before him.

Christopher knew that his eyes had gone cold at that moment when his smile disappeared. "Well sell it somewhere else, asshole. And give me your name. NOW!"

The boy had stammered out a name, maybe it was real and maybe it wasn't. But Christopher nodded once and walked back to the courthouse. When he got back the guys were on the floor rolling. They said the boy had about pissed his pants running away. They hadn't seen him since. Of course, that was all different.

Bruce came into the room then. He had surely heard them laughing long before but he too knew that the subbasement made a person punch drunk. It's why it alternated out with field duty.

"You idiots get back to work. I can hear you laughing like bitches all the way down the hall!" His voice was stern but each of them knew that it was more talk than anger. The men disbanded, grumbling. "Sweeps aren't being made, screens aren't being monitored and reports aren't being run while you laughing assholes are watching…" He peeked at the screen and scowled. "…big bitches working out. You can see this s**t on YouTube!"

Everybody cleared out except the essential people assigned to the room; which included Christopher. He saw Bruce watch the monitor for a few more moments before he made an appreciative grunt and walked out of the room.

He buried his head back into his report.