A Request For Help,
			an erotic story by AchtungNight.

Celebs: Kellie Shirley, Jessie Wallace.
Codes: FF, oral, cons, drugs, exh, voy.

Intro: This story is not fact. It is fiction derived from the
deepest darkest corners of my imagination. It is loosely based on
real celebrities and the very little I know about them, but the
story itself is fiction and not real. It contains depiction of
graphic sex and other adult themes, so it is not suitable for the
close-minded or those under 18 or people in areas where things
like this are illegal. If that includes you, please stop reading
now.

Thanks to Deman for requesting this story.

I broke several of my personal rules in writing this story. This
story was researched and written in just over six hours to
fulfill a perceived need for site updates. It was written about
two celebrities who I had never heard of before the request was
made, and who I have never seen before in anything. I only know
them and the show East Enders from fansites and online
encyclopedias. I've never seen East Enders or the celebrities in
anything and I've only been to the London airport, so I hope
everything came out right.

That said, on with the show!
*****************************************************************
A Request For Help.
London, England. March 2006.

	Help. The most awful and most marvelous word in the English
language. I recently found out how true this is. If you will
listen, I will tell you how.

	Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Frank Martin. I'm in
the transportation business. No, I'm not the guy the movies are
about. I just share his very common name and job. I transport
people and things without asking too many questions. By birth, I
come from Houston, Texas. My adopted city, though, is London,
England. I've lived here a number of years, and for most of them,
I've driven a cab. Usually, it's small potatoes jobs. Get a
person or package from one place to another, that's it. Most of
my tasks involve everyday people and the things I see are pretty
normal. It's lonesome work, but at least it pays well.

	It's nowhere near as exciting as some jobs. Some transporters I
know have way more interesting lives. My buddy David Wu for
example. He drives exclusively for Keira Knightley. Me, I drive
for any Tom, Dick, or Jane I pick up on the street.

	I've lived in London for the past seven years or so. I love it
here. There's odd sights around every corner. The laws make more
sense to me than those of America, and a lot of the people seem
nicer and smarter in many ways. The TV shows have fewer
commercials, the streets are cleaner, there's less traffic.
There's a sense of history here, and a sense of literature.
Neither is denied or hidden, instead they are honored. Yes,
America is better in many ways. It does the same things in many
ways. It's also a good country. Wait, what was I talking about?
Oh yes. My recent encounter with a request for help.

	Said request of course came from one of my passengers. I picked
her up outside of BBC Worldwide Headquarters, Broadcasting House,
Portland Place. I was in that part of town because it usually
gets me a lot of business. Lots of entertainers don't like to
drive themselves, and they pay well. Great tippers. She flagged
me down outside the BBC studio building. I pulled over
immediately. I recognized her. If you live in London and you
watch the BBC, you'd probably recognize her too.

	Her name was Kellie Shirley. She has been a regular new
character on the popular BBC soap opera East Enders for the past
few months. You don't know East Enders? Well, it's set in
London's East End, it's a serial drama about families and gangs.
It's very highly rated and well-written, mostly because of its
realism. Despite its constant nagging from the critics, it has
won several awards. Some of its storylines have dealt with
violence, rape, AIDS, religion, murder, and other controversial
topics. It's very inspiring, as inspiring as Dallas or any other
classic American soap opera. Kellie's character, Carly Wicks, is
inspiring in particular. She is clever, intriguing, and very
skilled at a variety of tasks. She's a woman, and she works in a
garage. She's also a huge soccer fan. Physically she's a
beautiful blonde. Shapely body, nice hair, killer legs, capital
knockers. Today she's wearing a nice silk red pantsuit. Jeweled
butterfly brooch at the left breast, buttoned-up top, knee-length
skirt, sheer white stockings. Ouch!

	There she was now, flagging me down. Standing outside
Broadcasting House, smiling like a beacon. I immediately pulled
over and grinned as I opened the door of my black Rolls-Royce
Phantom. How do I afford a Rolls-Royce, you ask? They're cheap
over here, and they're still classics. "Hello, ma'am," I greeted
Kellie. "I'm Frank Martin."

	"I know who you are," Kellie said. "I need your help."

	"Help is something I gladly give," I replied. "Where can I take
you?"

	"I'll come right to the point," she said, getting in and closing
the door behind her, lounging on the backseat. "This is going to
be an unusual request."

	I paused, frowning at her. I adjusted my Astros cap- yes, I live
in London, but I'm still a fan of American baseball- and looked
at myself and her in the rearview mirror. My blue eyes blinked
once, then twice, then I shrugged. I get "unusual requests" every
now and then, especially when I work this area. Usually they're
fun stuff. Not simple transport jobs. They involve danger,
excitement, adventure. Nothing on the order of the movies about
my namesake, understand. I hardly crave these things, my normal
life is trouble enough. Still, they're great when they occur.
Don't you agree? I have quite a reputation for allowing people to
indulge in them, helping them. It's a good thing to do in my
business. Kellie and I have never met before, but obviously she's
heard of my reputation. She's a fan of mine, or she wouldn't have
flagged me down like this and made such a request. I too am a fan
of hers, so I know her as well as any fan can. I am quite willing
to help her out.

	"What is it?" I asked, my tone cautious but interested.

	"Take me to the East End," Kellie said. "Hackney. Conrad's.
We're making a pickup."

	I paused again, taking in the directions. The real East End of
London is nowhere near the crime-ridden neighborhood the media
portrays. They naturally exgaggerate, summarize, leave things
out. The East End is really a pretty nice place, a place of
varied cultures and lives. It's a wonderful place to live- I
myself live in Redbridge. Still, though, some parts are
dangerous. Hackney in particular. Hackney is an area that has
more crime and poverty than a lot of other places. It's very much
a ghetto, inner city. And Conrad's- that's a disreputable
location of the worst sort. Every city has places like it. One of
those bars where trouble happens every night, one can't seem to
stop it. The place just attracts the wrong crowd and encourages
them. Who the heck could we be picking up there? Or what?

	I turned and looked directly at Kellie. "I have rules, you know.
No drugs."

	"We're not picking up drugs," she insisted. "We're picking up a
friend of mine. She's got herself in a spot of trouble."

	That's different, I thought. Trouble. I never like seeing people
in trouble. Especially not women. And this woman is likely a
celebrity, just like Kellie. I may even be a fan of hers. Thus I
decided to assist the lass. "Tell me about this friend," I said,
pulling out from the curb and starting to head for Hackney.

	"Her name is Jessie Wallace," Kellie began hesitantly. "Have you
heard of her?"

	I thought for a moment, then nodded. Jessie Wallace. Who in
London hasn't heard of Jessie Wallace? Long-running member of the
East Enders cast, veteran actress, native daughter of this fair
city. Her character, Kat Slater Moon, is known as a fiery vixen
on the show. A man-chaser and man-eater, frequently drunk and
lusty. Despite this, she's kind and internally wholesome. A tart
with a heart. Jessie's one of my favorites on the show. I laugh
at her antics all the time. At the same time, though, I'm worried
about her. It's been reported in the tabloids quite a lot that
she is in reality very much like her character. Alcohol problems,
depraved sexual habits, drunk driving arrests. I don't know how
much is true and how much isn't. Like most fans, I don't
speculate. Hearing her name now, though, and where we were going,
I found myself worried. Worried as all-get-out.

	"Kat Slater Moon," I replied to Kellie's query. I felt my tone
deepening, my pug face going into a frown. "She's at Conrad's?"

	"Yes, I'm afraid so," Kellie sighed. "She went there and I need
to get her out."

	"You got on the show after she left," I reminded her. I'm a fan
of East Enders. I know a lot about it. "You don't know her. What
do you care where she goes?"

	"I care," Kellie snapped, her pale face turning angry. "We all
care. Hurt one of us, you hurt us all. That's not just the theme
of our show, you know. It's a fact of how one has to live."

	I mused over this for a moment. As she said these words, we
passed the Chinese Embassy. I noticed the Falun Gong protesters
standing vigil outside it. So many old faces, so many new. A
tight-knit community with shared ideals, beliefs. Just like so
many real East End families, and the cast of East Enders too, I
guessed. I looked back at Kellie. "You're new on the show," I
said. "You want to prove yourself."

	"Yes," Kellie nodded, smiling again. "Yes, I do."

	"Well, well, well," I muttered, looking around at the road as we
turned a corner. Traffic is light today, but enough to keep me
busy. It's not rush hour, not yet. The weather is cloudy, but
nice. Thinking on this, I turned back to Kellie. "This is about
how many times Jessie has left the show and then come back,
right? You think you can get her to come back again. This isn't
for ratings, is it?"

	"No," Kellie snapped immediately. "It's for her. She's got a
kid, you know. She needs to raise him right."

	"A kid?" I raised an eyebrow, then remembered. Oh yes. "Where is
that kid now?"

	"With his godfather," Kellie answered. "He'll be fine. It's
Jessie I'm worried about."

	Me too, I grimaced. "Did his godfather put you up to this?"

	"Yes," Kellie said, then sighed. "Him and others. But I would
have done it anyway, no matter who asked me. I'm a nice person,
Frank. I do things like this all the time."

	"Of course you do," I agreed. Everyone said things like that
when helping people, especially those who did it infrequently.
"And you need my help."

	"So many people have told me how you've helped them," Kellie
nodded. "They say you're incorruptible, very skilled, very
precise."

	"Transportation is a precise business," I quoted my namesake. "I
plan every detail."

	"Well, this is sudden," Kellie said, putting her hands together
and staring out the window at the Falun Gong. "It's not constant,
it's not built-up. I'm improvising, jumping in the lake without a
paddle. I'm not sure what I'm doing. I don't really know this
girl."

	"You only know what you've heard," I said. She nodded in
agreement. "No problem," I assured her. "I have experience in
things like this."

	"Many people have told me so," Kellie smiled. "That's why I came
to find you. I was glad when I saw you. Do you really think you
can help?"

	"I can try," I shrugged, turning another corner. Kellie nodded
and said nothing. We rode in silence for some time, the hour or
so it took to reach Hackney. I didn't ask her too many more
questions about Jessie or her situation. I didn't need to know.
Sometimes it's better if you don't know. I'm not a police officer
after all. No one is expecting me to make arrests or reports
about this. I may never even see these girls again after what I
do here. I am simply the random helper who steps in at a time of
crisis. It doesn't matter whether I know the people I'm helping
or what I think of them. After doing what I can, I go back on my
way. Sometimes I get repeat business, but it's a rare thing. It's
really not that important to me. I just do what I can, then I
move on.

	"You drive here often?" Kellie asked as we entered Hackney from
the southwest. Hoxton and Shoreditch. Home of the London Arts and
other things. Clubs, bars, music. A nice place with an odd
reputation. I like it a lot.

	"Now and then," I shrugged. "Not that often, but I know the
area."

	"Good," Kellie said. "Then you can find Conrad's?"

	"With no trouble," I sighed, turning a corner and driving
through Hoxton Market. We soon passed The Theatre, or where it
used to be. It burned down a long time ago, but there's a
monument on the site. From Hoxton, we drove into Haggerston, and
then into London Fields. We passed churches, schools, apartments-
terraced gated communities mostly- and shops. I saw furniture
sellers hawking their wares next to cobblers and other merchants.
People passing by too. People of all ethnicities. Indians,
Jamaicans, Southeast Asians, English, Russians, Spaniards, too
many kinds to count. They're doing too many things to count too.
Shopping, sports, talking, just strolling about aimlessly,
playing songs, reading books, doing other things. Truly in the
world there is endless diversity.

	"Have you picked up people from Conrad's before?" Kellie asked
as we passed what used to be the Haggerston Pool. It's still
closed, future uncertain. No one knows when or if it will ever
reopen, despite the number of people who want it to. It has a
story very much like ours, I thought to myself as we drove by.

	"A few times," I replied cautiously. "It's not a place I like to
visit." This is an understatement. I am worried about Conrad's.
The last time I picked up someone from that place we had to
outrun a large mob of angry bikers. The time before that I got my
headlights broken along with my knuckles. Yes, I gave as good as
I got, but that's not important. The time before that I almost
got myself and my passenger arrested. They're fun stories,
perhaps I'll tell them to you another time.

	"The boss knows I'm coming," Kellie said. "He wants Jessie out
of there. He called our show's boss, told him about what she's
been up to. He's worried."

	"Your boss sent you?" I asked.

	Kellie shook her head. "I volunteered. There's a chance to meet
the legend. Jessie Wallace. Six years on the show, popular
character, such an icon. I've heard so much about her."

	I nodded. "And you're wondering how much is true."

	"Yes," Kellie agreed. "I've heard so much, but I know a lot of
it has to be exgaggerated. Made up, spun for whatever reason in
whatever way the storyteller decides. I have to know what's fact
and what's fiction."

	I shook my head, wondering if she was fully prepared for a rude
awakening. Didn't matter, I decided. We'd soon find out, both of
us. We entered into Hackney Central, passed by St. Augustine's
Tower, the oldest building. Next we passed Hackney Empire Music
Hall, the recently reopened center for the performing arts. Then
we passed the railway station, and soon after that Dalston
Market. I wondered if Kellie would notice we were taking a
roundabout route, working in as many landmarks as possible. Lots
of cabbies do this, and so do people in my current situation. It
helps them refamilarize themselves with the area they're in,
gives them time to think things out and plan. It bumps up the
meter too, but that's a side benefit, not the main reason. There
are things more important than money, after all.

	Soon we passed other Dalston landmarks. The Rio Cinema, one of
the few places like it left in this part of the city. The
bookshop Centerprise, which I sometimes shop at in my off hours.
And then Fasset Square, the inspiration for Albert Square of East
Enders fame. Past that, on a dirty street whose name I've never
bothered to notice, was Conrad's.

	How to describe Conrad's? Well, if you've never been there, you
wouldn't understand. It's a small place, no larger than your
average one-bedroom apartment. Yet all the things that go on in
there could fill volumes. They serve all kinds of drinks, and
food too. There's billiards, dancing, air hockey, video games. I
don't really know much about what goes on in there. I don't care
for the taste of alcohol, so I don't visit bars that much. Even
if I were a social drinker, I would probably stay out of places
like Conrad's, though. I like to pride myself on my good sense.

	As we neared the place and I came to a stop, I saw several dozen
rough characters entering and leaving the bar. Punks in black
leather, diverse otherwise. Some black, some white, some other
races. Some big, some small, some short, some tall. Some with
lots of piercings, some with few. All look like trouble. There
are other sorts of people too. Preppy kids who don't belong here,
respectable types who think they're fooling themselves by
rebelling enough to enter a place like this, strange dirty folks
about whom I do not bother to speculate. People of all stripes,
varied professions. It takes all kinds. There is no accounting
for taste. It despairs me to see how many people are in this
place, and to think about their reasons for being here. I really
think... Oh, right. The story.

	"There she is!" Kellie called out, pointing at a woman being
escorted out of the bar by a large bald Russian man with a
flowing mustache. He's the main bouncer at Conrad's. Igor is his
name. Just as with all mad scientists' assistants, he's a helpful
scary fellow. The thin little Belgian walking beside them was
Lord Jim Kurtz, the owner of the establishment. I don't know if
he's really a lord, but he likes to style himself that way. Dandy
clothes, monocle, arrogant dress and manner. The horror, the
horror of the man.

	Jessie Wallace now, there's nothing horrible about her. She's
beautiful. Long black hair, highlighted by streaks of silver.
Pale skin, dark blue eyes that stare right into your soul and dig
out the deep secrets. That smile of hers, I like it immensly. Her
figure too is wonderful. Especially in that black leopardskin
dress she was wearing that day. And those gold hoop earrings-
they were nice too. I noticed she was staggering a bit at the
moment, her features flushed and sweaty. When I saw this, I was
sure that she'd had a lot to drink recently, probably too much.
My suspicions were confirmed as she stopped halfway through the
door and started throwing up. Igor the bouncer quickly shoved a
ready bucket at her and she took it gratefully, then continued
heaving into it. Lord Jim turned away in disgust. I did the same.
Kellie, meanwhile, got out of my cab and walked over to meet
them. I rolled down my window, curious enough to listen in.

	"You arrived just in time, girl," Lord Jim snapped, waving at
Kellie and then at Jessie. "I had someone watching for you. This
one's been ruining the atmosphere of my pub, she has."

	"I know," Kellie grimaced, looking him up and down. She had
never met Lord Jim before, probably. He makes one hell of an
awful first impression. "I'm here to help her."

	Jim spit on the ground. "This girl is beyond help," he declared,
making a wide gesture with his hand. "I ought to exterminate all
these brutes, all these people. I ought to kill them all!"

	But they earn you money, I thought, glaring at Jim. What a
despicable fiend, I shook my head. Truly a demon. He hates his
clientele, yet he is perfectly willing to exploit them over and
over. He preys on the weak, the addicts, those in need. Deeply do
I despise him and all his ilk.

	"Fuck you, you evil prick," Jessie looked up at Kurtz suddenly,
her face set in a mocking sneer. "Someday you'll be dead."

	"Aye," Jim spun and glared at her. "Sleep after toil, port after
stormy seas, ease after warre, death after life, does greatly
please." He smiled at his phrasing, adjusting his eyepiece. "And
you'll be dead someday too, girl. From one too many drinks in a
place like mine, more than likely. You'll be back."

	"And again, you'll throw me out!" Jessie smiled, standing erect
and shaking a finger at him. "Water me down, cut me off, then
toss me out. Just like you do every night!"

	"Not every night, lass!" Jim cackled. "Or have you forgotten?
Some nights you walk out of here, head held high! Other nights
you go home with people. All kinds of people. Men, women, brutes,
you name it! And..." he gestured at Kellie, "some nights a friend
of yours drags you home. I guess this blonde girl is the latest
replacement for that bobby of yours. What was his name?"

	"Dave Morgan," Jessie snapped, spitting on the ground just as
Jim had done earlier.

	"Yes, Dave Morgan," Jim shook his head, wagging a finger at her.
"Your fiance, was he not? The father of your child. And then he
exploited you, called the tabloids and helped them arrange to
take pictures of you. Sold all those stories about you to the
press again and again. You were right to dump his ass, girl."

	She should dump yours too, Jim, I raged at him silently. Mellow
out, calm down, get herself a good man and some help. Her East
Enders character did it, surely she can too. I hope so anyway.

	"Fuck you!" Jessie fumed, throwing up her hands and smiling as
she stared at Jim and the bouncer, then the crowd. "Fuck all of
you! Fuck you and your mothers and your fathers! Fuck them all!"

	"Get her out of here, Igor!" Jim ordered the bouncer, his tone
full of venom. The man nodded, then shoved Jessie away with one
huge hand. The flabbergasted Kellie caught her by the shoulders,
grimacing as she tried to hold up the laughing Jessie. I was
worried too. Did she still have vomit in her to cough up? Other
things too possibly? Would I have to charge Kellie extra for the
cleaning of my cab?

	Shrugging this off for the moment, I hopped out of my taxi and
opened the right rear door for my passengers. Kellie supported
Jessie as they walked over, one hand on her arm and one on her
shoulder. Her face was a cloud of embers, a storm of worry and
fear. Jessie was still laughing, an expression of mirth and
unbridled passion. She enjoys being who she is, I thought, only
briefly wondering why. I know so many facts about her, I mused,
but none can really explain who she is, how she lives the way she
does. Facts, I reminded myself again, are inadequate to
explaining the true inner life of a human being.

	"Good to see you again, Frank!" Jim called out from the bar's
entryway. I shot him the finger. He laughed and walked back into
the bar, the smiling Igor at his side.

	"He's a horse's arse," I growled. Kellie, slamming the cab door
behind her, nodded in agreement.

	"Aye!" Jessie chuckled joyfully. "He's a right putz, he is! A
real rotter sod!"

	I waved a hand to shush her, glad we were getting away from
Conrad's without any violence. What did Jessie do to get herself
tossed out of the place? I wondered. Nah, it wasn't important.
Maybe she insulted someone, maybe she tried to pick a fight,
maybe she tried to pick up the wrong person. It wasn't important.
Whatever the reason, she was in my cab.

	"Jessie," Kellie got her attention, staring at the other woman
and waving a hand in front of her face. "My name is Kellie
Shirley. I'm a new cast member of East Enders."

	"Oh," Jessie smiled at her, blue eyes mirthful. "I was wondering
who you were. Did Shane send you?"

	"Yes," Kellie replied slowly, looking at me. "He sent Frank
Martin as well. Do you know Frank Martin?"

	"So this is Frank Martin," Jessie chuckled, regarding me. "I've
heard a lot about you, Frank."

	"And I you," I replied with a smirk. I've never met Shane
Ritchie, who played Jessie's husband on East Enders and is a good
friend of the godfather of her child. I like his comic style,
though. If he has told Jessie about me, he must be a fan of mine
too. Good.

	"I'm not really like my character, you know," Jessie insisted.
"I could never do the things she does. I've never asked a man out
in my life! Boyfriends- bad news."

	"Of course you've never asked a man out," I repeated, grimacing.
I looked away from her into the rearview mirror. She's going to
be incoherent, I reminded myself. Drunks always are. "Where to?"
I asked Kellie, locking my eyes on hers in the rearview mirror.
She stared back at me, unsure.

	"Drive around slowly," she said finally. "It's Shane's tab, not
mine. I don't care how long you take."
	
	"I need an eventual destination," I calmly told her, trying to
control my tone. "Where to?"

	Kellie hesitated again, then looked at Jessie. "I'm taking you
home," she said.

	"Fine," Jessie shrugged. "No problem!"

	"Good," Kellie sighed in relief, then turned back to me and gave
me an address. I nodded. It was some distance away, but I could
find it. It might take a while, though. It was getting late in
the day now. Darkness was building up around us, and traffic. Fog
too, that element of weather for which London is so well-known.
I'm used to driving in fog, but I don't like it. It comes in on
little cat's feet, like the poet says, and blocks the vision.
There's a reason for it, I reminded myself again. Everything has
a purpose assigned to it by the greatest force in the world. What
the purpose is I cannot fathom, nor should I really care.
	
	Kellie was silent as we started our journey, looking back and
forth at the growing fog around us. I was worried too. My car's
windows are tinted, but normally I don't like to hide. Fog hides
things with darkness beyond darkness. I flipped my headlights on,
trying to penetrate the mist. Good, I thought, I can drive safely
in this. I just need to go slow, take my time.

	Jessie laughed as we rounded the corner, getting farther and
farther from the place we'd left. "So what's your character like,
Kellie?" she asked the woman beside her. "Is she a replacement
for me?"

	"No one could ever replace you, Jessie," Kellie smiled. "That's
what everyone tells me anyway."

	"And it's true, very true," Jessie agreed, returning her smile.
"East Enders was the best thing that's ever happened to me, the
best thing that's ever likely to! I loved it so much!"

	Kellie nodded. "Perhaps one day you'll come back."

	"Maybe," Jessie shrugged, staring out the window. "For now, I'm
doing other things."

	"Other things," Kellie repeated, grimacing. "Like drinking
yourself into a stupor every night at Conrad's and places like
it?"

	"I don't go out every night," Jessie frowned. "Just when I feel
the need."

	"Yes," Kellie shook her head, then looked away from her. "Shane
told me all about your needs."

	"That muppet needs to take his own advice and shut up!" Jessie
growled. "He can't decide if he wants to be a hero or a villain.
He can't make decisions for me either. I'm not some idiot trapped
in a burning car!"
	
	"No, you're worse," Kellie sighed, looking back and staring at
her directly. "You're a person who has trapped themselves in a
bad situation and refuses to get out. I'm here to intervene,
remind you of the good things you've been forsaking."
	
	"You know what?" Jessie glared at her. "I don't give a damn! I
chose to be this way and I'll keep being this way! It's how I
have fun!"

	"Fun," Kellie mused, rolling her eyes at Jessie. "You really
think you need to go out drinking to have fun?"

	"Yes!" Jessie shot back, embers alight in her eyes now. "Fun,
fun and games! That's all I want from life. One night I go after
a fireman, the next an astronaut, then a man in a top hat. Fun
and games again and again!"
	
	"And what about your daughter?" Kellie asked. "What do you
suppose she's going to think of all this when she's old enough to
recognize it?"

	Jessie opened her mouth to fire off another insult, then fell
silent, staring at Kellie. Finally she turned away. "I want to be
a proper mum," she said with a grimace, suddenly looking
downcast.

	"Yes," Kellie nodded. "You want to be a proper mum. You want to
be good to Tallulah. But you're not, are you?"

	"I..." Jessie stammered, staring back at her. She looked at me,
then out the windows, then back at Kellie. "I..."

	You don't really know what you're doing, do you? I almost wanted
to ask the blonde. You're trying to intervene in the life of a
person you don't know, one you admire because you've seen her
work and don't know her outside of that work. She's a person
you've heard rumors about, awful rumors you want to settle in
your own mind. You want to help her too, but you're misguided. Do
you really think you're going to have any effect on her? She
doesn't know you and you don't know her! Why are you doing this?

	She's following the highest calling there is, I answered my own
doubting questions. She's helping others. Just like you.

	"You drink for fun?" Kellie asked Jessie, her eyes filled with
fire. She waved a finger to emphasize her words. "Do you really
think you need to? Don't you know there are people out there glad
to call themselves your friends, drink or no drink? Why don't you
just hang out with them, do fun things, cultivate those
relationships? Why go to a place like Conrad's instead?"
	
	"I..." Jessie stammered. I wondered if she had a good answer. I
certainly couldn't think of one, and in her state I could easily
imagine having far more trouble. "You didn't answer me!" she
finally snapped at Kellie. "What's your East Enders character
like?"

	"She's a mechanic," Kellie said, smiling slyly. "I am too."

	A mechanic, I thought, mind flashing back briefly to Carly
Wicks. She is a mechanic, and a damn good one. Kellie, I'm
thinking, is acting like a mechanic of a different sort now,
though.

	"You're a mechanic?" Jessie frowned. "A _female_ mechanic?"

	"Yes," Kellie smiled. "It takes a special sort of person to do
the things I do."

	Jessie frowned again, then shrugged. "I can dig that."

	Kellie shook her head. "You say you can, but can you? I think
that you really don't know what you're talking about."

	Jessie stared at her agape. "You do?"

	"Yes," Kellie smirked. "I do. Look at yourself. When cornered,
you answer questions with questions. You change the subject,
extrapolate, confuse the issue. Meanwhile you keep digging
yourself into a deeper grave."
	
	"Fuck you," Jessie snapped, glaring at the other woman. "Fuck
you!"

	"Yes," Kellie smiled, taking her words in. "That is what you
shout to the world every night when you go out and play these
games of yours, and what you say to yourself too every time you
do it. Fuck you. Again and again. Well, you know what, Jessie?"
She reached out a hand and put it on Jessie's knee. "You've said
fuck you to a lot of people. And now I'm saying it right back."

	Jessie stared at her hand, shocked by its placement. Then she
looked up at Kellie's face. "What are you doing?"

	"Oh come now," Kellie grinned at her. "Kara told me all about
the things you and her used to do together during your times on
the show. Don't tell me you don't still do them."

	"Kara?" Jessie stared at Kellie, her mouth open wider. "She told
you..."

	"Yes," Kellie laughed, moving her hand higher on Jessie's thigh.
"Kara told me all about you. So did Michelle and Shane and Tracy.
I know everything about you, Jessie. Except for the unnecessary
drinking, I like all that I've heard."
	
	I stare at them in the rearview mirror between looking at the
road, for an instant unable to believe what I am seeing and
hearing. Then I remind myself of a few facts. I myself am opposed
to sex outside of marriage. I don't like promiscuity either,
especially homosexual promiscuity. Even despite this dislike,
though, I try to tolerate it. I try to tolerate and understand a
lot of things. I still do not understand, however, my attraction
to something like what happened in my car's backseat. I did not
understand why, but I could not help but watch it.

	Jessie was staring at Kellie's hand on her now, then looking
again into Kellie's eyes. "And you..." she stammered.

	"Yes," Kellie said, suddenly moving in closer and touching the
older woman's lips with hers. "I'm here to help you," she
reminded Jessie, pulling back after a quick smooch. "You think
you need alcohol to get the things you want. Well, you're wrong.
Your friends know you're wrong. They've sent me to illustrate
that fact."

	Jessie threw up a hand between them, trying to shove her away.
"I was drunk when I got with all of them!" she shouted. "Drunk,
just like I am now!"

	"But you enjoyed it," Kellie told her, smiling and kissing
Jessie's cheek again. "They enjoyed it. I too think I will enjoy
it." She planted another kiss on Jessie's lips.

	I won't enjoy it, I thought to myself, turning another corner
and feeling relieved for the fog that hid us. I do so hate it
when people seduce each other in the back of my cab. Cleanup is
always a chore, and a serious one. Some things are worse, like
blood, vomit, or other things. Sex, though, is just...
unsanitary. Especially in a public place like this, a place that
doesn't even belong to the participants. Why do so many people
feel they have my permission to do it in the back of my cab? Oh
well, I can't stop them. I'm not supposed to even judge them.
Besides, I need to drive. Yes, that's right, I need to drive.

	Still, though, I can barely tear my eyes away from Kellie and
Jessie. Their lips touching again, their eyes flashing with
increasing emotions. Kellie looked unsure of herself but
increasingly more confident. Jessie was surprised, then pleased.
Perhaps she is grateful she is in fact getting to go home with a
friend tonight, I thought. Not someone who's out to harm her,
take her away from the things she loves so much. Instead they're
going to show her new fun things, or remind her of fun things she
already knows. I wasn't sure which, I prefer not to make
conjectures. Instead I continued to watch.

	"What are you doing?" Jessie breathed out, pulling back from the
other girl and trying to shove her away. "Get your hands off me!"

	"Oh, no you don't," Kellie shook her head, moving back into
Jessie and pushing her down against the seat. Her hands were on
Jessie's shoulders, then moved lower, caressing and fondling.
"You want this," Kellie urged Jessie on. "You know you want it."

	"I..." Jessie gasped out, then nodded, moving her hands up and
placing them on Kellie's. "Yes, fine, I do want it. Get it over
with!"

	Yes, I agreed silently. Get it over with. Get it done. This is
part of your request, Kellie Shirley. I may not like it, but I'm
not going to stop you. I'm just going to watch and drive, that's
it. Just watch and drive. Yet what's behind me is so interesting,
so compelling, so...

	I kept my eyes on the road, trying to stay concentrated on what
I needed to watch. The sights and sounds dominated my attention
for an instant, then the fog took them. Another cry from the
backseat, and they faded away as out of curiousity I turned my
eyes away from the road back to Kellie and Jessie. Then I stopped
myself and looked back at the road. Then there was another cry,
and again I looked at what was happening in the backseat.

	Back and forth, again and again, I looked at each sight. Each
was a tableau to which I needed to pay attention, one from which
I could not turn my attention. Soon I stopped fooling myself
about it, knowing it was a useless means of caution. It was also
distracting me from the road. The fog around us was thick and
growing thicker. Other vehicles around us vanished into it, and
so did we. From time to time I heard a horn honking, brakes
squealing, or some other noise. I paid the noises little
attention, driving slow and trying to keep my mind off what was
happening around me and especially behind me. Just drive, I told
myself. Just drive.

	Still, though, I found myself looking frequently at them. Kellie
was leaning close to Jessie now, rubbing the other woman's body
against hers. Her hands were moving, rubbing Jessie's breasts and
thighs through her clothing. Jessie's hands were moving too,
slowly but surely meeting Kellie's. First they touched her hands,
then her arms, then they moved onwards. I thought at first Jessie
was going to try to shove her away again, but soon I realized she
was helping Kellie, urging her to keep doing what she was doing.
The brunette's voice had fallen silent now, her anger calmed and
bled out of her. She did want this, I realized, as she too must
have realized. She had come to Conrad's with a seduction in mind.
Maybe this wasn't exactly what she'd planned or hoped for, but
she was enjoying it nonetheless. So was Kellie. Some part of me
was too, I supposed.
	
	Kellie kissed Jessie again, her tongue stabbing into the other
woman's mouth this time. Her hands were meanwhile moving beind
Jessie, unbuttoning and zipping down the back of her dress,
pushing it over her shoulders. Jessie was not wearing underwear,
so soon her large breasts and dark nipples were revealed,
engorged and hard from Kellie's attention to them. Jessie's hands
were moving too, unbuttoning Kellie's blouse and reaching inside,
pulling the blonde's breasts out and rubbing at them. Kellie had
a bra on, but it was soon unfastened and pushed down along with
her blouse, thrown to the floor and away from her. Her nipples
were dark too, I saw, darker than Jessie's. Her breasts were
smaller but no less enticing.

	The two women rubbed against each other, moaning out their
passion. I turned a corner as I watched them, trying to remember
where I was and keep myself oriented. I'm back by Hackney Park, I
told myself, or at least I think so. Hard to tell, what with the
fog and all the other distractions around.

	Kellie was kissing her way down Jessie's neck now, rubbing her
breasts and stroking her fingers across them. Her motions were
swift and sure, circling and probing the aureolas. Jessie moaned
under her touch, rubbing at Kellie's shoulders and running her
fingers through the other woman's hair. Kellie continued to push
her dress down farther, over her waist and hips, then her legs. I
caught a glimpse of Jessie's stomach in the rearview mirror as I
drove slowly past a lorry. Pale and taut with the muscles of
dancing, below it a mass of pale curls standing out over engorged
and open lips. Not a natural brunette, I thought to myself.
Surprising. Usually it's the brunette who wants to dye her hair
blonde, not the other way around.

	I couldn't tell whether Kellie was a natural blonde or not. Her
hair seemed real enough, and I never gazed too closely at the
roots of it. Her thighs were shaven- this became clear to me when
Jessie unbuttoned her skirt and shoved it down around her ankles.
Her white cotton panties soon followed. I couldn't see much
looking in the mirror, but what I could see told me enough. I
could easily guess the rest. Jessie had a finger inside Kellie
now, finding and teasing the points of sensitivity. Kellie's
hands were moving across her too, massaging curves and locating
spots that caused interesting reactions. They weren't saying
much, their lips were too busy kissing and licking at each other.
The moans I could hear were nice though. The smells from back
there- their mixing perfumes and the aroma of their sweat- they
were nice too.

	"Please," Jessie gasped out, her breath coming in deep heaves as
Kellie kissed her way down her body. Lips touched one breast,
then the other, sucking the nipples before moving on. Then they
touched the cleavage, the waist, the hips, and lower. I knew what
was coming, and again I had to stop myself from making some form
of protest. They were in the backseat of my car, in the middle of
a public street. Fog and tinted windows notwithstanding, someone
could look in, see them! But they didn't seem to care and I was
not supposed to judge. I merely did my job. I kept my hands on
the wheel, my eyes on the road. I continued driving.

	Then I heard a cry, and my eyes involuntarily turned back.
Jessie was lying down across the seat, moaning and gasping out
faster. Kellie was on top of her facing her feet, blonde head
buried between the thighs her hands held apart. Jessie's hands
were moving across Kellie's lower thighs and bottom, squeezing
the flesh there and creating tremors in Kellie. Her finger was
still stuck inside Kellie, and two others had joined it. They
were moving rapidly, and Kellie was shaking around them.
Meanwhile her tongue was licking through Jessie's pubic hair,
teasing out more moans and whispers of joy from the other woman.
I tried to keep from paying it all much attention. I was not part
of it, I reminded myself. I could not be, for so many reasons.
Mostly, I needed to drive the car.

	"Yes, please, yes!" Jessie gasped, shaking around Kellie's
tongue and fingers. I couldn't tell what they were focusing on,
it was hard to see. I had other concerns too. A honking horn
reminded me of that, and a large dim shape passing me on the
right. What is wrong with these people? I wondered. How can they
dare to do this? Don't they sense the wrongness of it, the where,
the when, especially the what? Don't judge, I reminded myself.
They have both chosen to do it. Alcohol, naivete, and other
things are of little consequence. They have made their choice,
and they are acting on it. A decent man would not attempt to
interfere. The fog seemed to grow thicker as these thoughts
passed through my brain.

	I heard Kellie whispering to Jessie now, encouraging her towards
something as she licked and rubbed at her body. I blocked it out,
turning on the radio and raising the volume. Some recent hit that
topped the charts, I smiled, thinking over its words. No, wait,
that wasn't what I needed to hear. I flipped the station and
turned on a weather report. Good, I thought, this will keep me
from focusing on what's happening in the backseat. Help me get
through this fog to where I need to go. I don't want to go there,
I want to turn around. Scream something, get mad, throw a
tantrum. But I can not, must not, shall not. This moment will
pass. For now I will keep driving.

	"The fog came up suddenly," the weather man said on the radio.
"It is covering most of the city and shows no signs of going away
soon. All citizens are cautioned to avoid the roads if possible,
proceed sensibly and with extreme caution..."

	Yes, I agreed, nodding in favor of the pronouncement. Jessie
cried out again from the backseat and I nodded in favor of that
too. Then I stopped myself, grimacing at my own face in the
mirror. What is wrong with me? I wondered. Two famous beautiful
girls from a show I love are ravaging each other in the backseat
of my very own cab, not a care in the world! Why do I not turn
around and admit I am watching them? Why do I not protest? It's
insulting, insulting in the extreme, and yet...

	"Yes!!" Jessie called out just then, her face flushed with joy
as her body erupted with some inner explosion. "Yes! Oh yes!"

	And yet it is enticing, I thought to myself. Interesting. Well
worth the journey. The price too. I am being well paid for this
trip. I looked at the meter and grinned.

	A deep long moan came from the backseat at that moment, and one
look confirmed my guess. Kellie was experiencing some great
tremor brought on by Jessie's fingers, her body shaking back and
forth with a thankful hunger for more. I shook my head as I
watched it, reminding myself I should not be interested. I had no
reason to be. I have a wonderful wife in whom I often create the
same feelings, and vice versa. I would be seeing her, seeing you,
later that night, and probably doing it again, I was sure.

	"Ahhhh!!" Kellie breathed from the backseat, collapsing and
shaking atop Jessie. Jessie cried out again too, brought off by
the joy of what she was doing and having done to her. I shook my
head at this, wondering again exactly how much alcohol she had
consumed earlier in the night. Had she needed to train herself to
drink so much and still maintain such coherence, such unity of
thought and action? I really did not know, and once I got done
with this journey I was honestly planning to stop caring. It is
hard to help people and not become interested in their problems,
to forget and ignore who they are.

	The fog was clearing now, I noticed as I mused on this. I turned
another corner and grimaced as I looked at a barely discernible
street sign. I had lost my way, I realized, and it might take a
while to find it again. I could find it, though, and the address
Kellie had given me. It would just take a little more time than I
had planned.

	"Frank," Kellie's voice caught my attention from the backseat. I
looked back at the mirror, seeing that she and Jessie were
disengaged from each other now. Both looked spent, happy. Their
clothes were still in disarray, but this didn't seem to bother
them. It didn't bother me either, not much. "Frank, we're sorry."

	"I'm sorry too," I shrugged, then turned my eyes back to the
road. The streets were looking familiar now, and more so as the
fog vanished from around us. The girls were getting dressed, I
was happy to note, Kellie helping the still-inebriated Jessie. I
became aware of an uncomfortable feeling in my pants as I watched
them. An ache, a longing. I did not have to look down to know
that I was hard. It didn't matter, I reminded myself. What had
just happened was over now, and of no consequence. Soon I would
be able to go home, see my own wife. Then, and only then, my
tension could be relieved.

	These thoughts ran through my head as I looked back at Kellie
and Jessie. Both seemed different now, affected somehow by what
they had done. Kellie looked like she was proud of herself, her
fear gone and her hopes bestilled. Jessie looked happy too- I
couldn't tell whether or not she was now motivated to find ways
of enjoying herself that didn't involve alcohol and one night
stands, but I supposed it didn't matter. After tonight I would
probably not see either her or Kellie again for a long while, if
ever. I could only hope that Jessie would find some way out of
her darkness, some way to become a good person and help her child
grow up right. It was good that friends like Kellie and the rest
of her castmates were there to assist her in that.

	"Thank you for helping us," Kellie told me.

	I nodded. "Glad to have done so." These words were true. I help
people a lot, and now is not the first time the things I have
seen when doing it have surprised me. It's not the last time
either. Touching the lives of others constantly, reaching out to
them, musing on the way I feel about the things they do, is a
wonderful experience. I am satisfied with it... almost.

***
The End