Remi and Mr. Smith Visit the 1930s

 

(An excerpt from A Time Traveler's Companion chapter 13 .Trigger warning: Sexual content)

After our steamy encounter, we decided to get dressed up in 1930s outfits. He was dressed in a pair of brown trousers that had a relaxed fit, paired with sleek black suspenders and a coordinating blazer. Underneath, he wore a sharp white button-up shirt, and to add a touch of flair, he had a handkerchief neatly placed in the left pocket of his blazer. To finish off his outfit, he sported a fashionable hat reminiscent of the 1930s, which really tied the whole look together perfectly. My ensemble features a crisp white button-up blouse for women, with the sleeves casually rolled up about a quarter of the way. I’ve paired it with a stylish brown vest and some tailored slacks held up by suspenders. To complete the look, I’m wearing elegant black pumps that have that classic 1930s vibe and gold dangle earrings. 

He assisted me in getting my hair done in that classic 1930s style, just like the glamorous women of that era. Then, he handed me a tube of red lipstick and said, “You should wear this.” I applied it, and when he saw me, his face lit up with a smile, and he leaned in to give me a kiss. “Beautiful,” he said, clearly impressed.

We totally rocked those brown outfits, looking like the ultimate duo. The monolith is a treasure trove of clothing from all sorts of eras, offering a wild mix of styles. It can whip up anything Mr. Smith dreams up. He described the monolith as a massive AI computer, capable of creating 3D replicas from any time in history.

 “Wow, I can’t believe we are here,” I said as I stepped out of the monolith and looked around.

  “Mr. Smith, where are we?” He lightly chuckled and said, “You still call me Mr. Smith, I find that adorable.” I blushed as he took my hand in his.

 "We are in Los Angeles," he remarked. I turned around, only to realize that the monolith had vanished from view.

 "I can’t believe this is Los Angeles!" I exclaimed, absorbing the vibrant surroundings.

  "What makes you say that?" he asked, curiously.

 "It's simply astonishing," I replied, with wide eyes and added, “It’s not like the Los Angeles that I know, it’s different, newer I guess.” The bustling crowd, the pristine streets, and the architecture of it struck me as a stark contrast to the Los Angeles I was familiar with. My great-grandmother experienced this time and witnessing it through my perspective, captivates him. He enjoys seeing the excitement on my face when we go on our adventures. He can tell that I'm genuinely impressed, kind of like how a guy with a flashy car knows it’ll catch the attention of women. But honestly, what I feel is way beyond just being impressed by a car. Going on adventures with Zyrius, aka Mr. Smith, is an experience that’s both deep and thrilling. 

"What month is it?” I asked. 

“July 20^th, 1936,” he responded. A captivating woman walked by, flashing him a teasing smile that caught his attention. I pursed my lips and shot her a disapproving glare. Mr. Smith turned to acknowledge her with a nod, but soon his gaze fell on my sour expression. He drew me in closer and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, which brought a smile to my face. 

“You look so cute when you’re jealous,” he remarked, his grin widening. The monolith was parked in a nearby alley; it cloaked itself to keep hidden from prying eyes. We paused in front of a theater, scanning the marquee to see what films were currently showing. “Trapped by Television, maybe we can come and see this movie later,” he suggested and gave me a smile, placing his arm around my waist, he waved down a taxi. I noticed him fiddling with his ring as we sat in the back seat. A thought occurred to me, I should’ve asked Melanie about the ring and the origin of it. The taxi dropped us off at a nice hotel. 

“Thank you, sir, here’s extra for your troubles,” Mr. Smith gave him a handsome tip. The man gave us a warm smile and a slight nod of his head. As we entered the hotel, Mr. Smith took charge of the check-in process. “We’ll be staying for two nights, allowing us to soak in the charm of the 1930s during our visit,” he remarked, while the receptionist handed him the room key. The bellboy, eager to assist, asked, “Sir, do you have any luggage?” To which he replied, “No,” before generously tipping the bellboy, who accepted it with a puzzled yet grateful grin. With that, we made our way to the elevator and to our room. Time traveling feels incredibly surreal, and I can't express how thankful I am to have crossed paths with Mr. Smith; he has opened my eyes to so many new experiences. The walls in the room are painted in a soothing olive-green color, complemented by a charming white wooden trim that runs along the rounded edges near the ceiling, halting just above the windows. The windows themselves are dressed in elegant gold and olive-green floral curtains, layered with delicate white lace curtains that provide a touch of privacy. The room is furnished with two cozy chairs, a quaint breakfast table, and a full-size bed that features matching covers, echoing the lovely pattern of the curtains. I sat on the bed. 

Mr. Smith put a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the doorknob, looked at me and winked with a flirtatious smile playing on his lips. "Remi, we have a little while before the movie starts," he said, his voice dripping with a playful allure. He settled beside me, and I met his gaze with a teasing glance, my heart racing with anticipation. I stole a quick glance at the clock; it was 4:30 PM, and the world outside felt distant, leaving us with ample time to indulge in our desires. With a casual flick, he removed his hat and sauntered over to the breakfast table, placing it down with a deliberate slowness. As he began to shed his clothes, I followed suit. The curtains were drawn tight, and the door was securely locked, enveloping us in a cocoon of intimacy where only our shared breaths and whispered secrets existed. He enveloped me in his strong embrace, my legs instinctively encircling his waist as he lifted me effortlessly. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, and he carefully lowered me onto the soft bed, his breath warm against my skin as he whispered, “Remi, you’re so beautiful.” His lips trailed a tantalizing path along my neck, descending slowly to my breasts, where he lavished attention on my sensitive nipples. With a playful flick of his tongue, he teased and nibbled, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me as I tangled my fingers in his hair, lost in the moment. The moment I learned that Leila had successfully delivered the birth control pills, a wave of relief washed over me, freeing me from the burden of worry. Logically, I reasoned that if he belonged to a different species, the likelihood of pregnancy should be virtually nonexistent. Yet, Melanie's cautionary words lingered in my mind, “Birdie, since Mr. Smith is in human form, there's a chance you could actually get pregnant.” She had shared this insight during one of our meals at a quaint 1950s Diner in Anaheim California, a trip in time that we took while Mr. Smith was away for a few days. The weight of her statement resonated deeply, ultimately influencing my decision to start taking the Pill. As Mr. Smith moved down toward my pelvic region, my heart skipped a beat, his tongue caressed my throbbing core, sliding his tongue in and out, wiggling it at the tip of my clit, making me moan vociferously.

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(Due to the content, I skipped to the part below)

The next day, we made our way to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a stunning architectural marvel situated on Wilshire Boulevard. My previous visit had been during a high school field trip, so the memories came flooding back as I stepped inside. It looked a little different than what I remember. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to Mr. Smith, and asked, “Why are we here?”

With a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, he responded, “There’s something here that I must acquire.” As we wandered through the museum, we immersed ourselves in the captivating displays of artifacts, vibrant paintings, and exquisite antique jewelry, each piece telling its own unique story. I stumbled upon this gorgeous brooch that was crafted from gold, featuring a brilliant sapphire right in the middle, about the size of a quarter, and encircled by a ring of sparkling diamonds. The design resembled a beautiful flower, and I was completely captivated by its sheer elegance. Mr. Smith, noticing the admiration in my gaze, turned to me and said, “Remi, I promise that one day I’ll gift you a gorgeous pendant.” My heart skipped a beat, and a gentle smile spread across my face. “Tonight, when this place closes, we’re going to come back,” he whispered.

A wave of confusion washed over me as I studied his expression, but it quickly dawned on me that he was plotting to snatch the brooch. My heart raced, and I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm as I scanned the room, anxiety creeping in. As we inched back toward the wall, I couldn't help but scan the crowd with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. They seemed completely absorbed in the stunning artifacts displayed in the shiny glass cases, completely unaware of my unease. He stayed totally cool, radiating a chill confidence that suggested nothing could throw him off balance.

 The next day, we made our way to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a stunning architectural marvel situated on Wilshire Boulevard. My previous visit had been during a high school field trip, so the memories came flooding back as I stepped inside. It looked a little different than what I remember. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to Mr. Smith, and asked, “Why are we here?”

With a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, he responded, “There’s something here that I must acquire.” As we wandered through the museum, we immersed ourselves in the captivating displays of artifacts, vibrant paintings, and exquisite antique jewelry, each piece telling its own unique story. I stumbled upon this gorgeous brooch that was crafted from gold, featuring a brilliant sapphire right in the middle, about the size of a quarter, and encircled by a ring of sparkling diamonds. The design resembled a beautiful flower, and I was completely captivated by its sheer elegance. Mr. Smith, noticing the admiration in my gaze, turned to me and said, “Remi, I promise that one day I’ll gift you a gorgeous pendant.” My heart skipped a beat, and a gentle smile spread across my face. “Tonight, when this place closes, we’re going to come back,” he whispered.

A wave of confusion washed over me as I studied his expression, but it quickly dawned on me that he was plotting to snatch the brooch. My heart raced, and I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm as I scanned the room, anxiety creeping in. As we inched back toward the wall, I couldn't help but scan the crowd with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. They seemed completely absorbed in the stunning artifacts displayed in the shiny glass cases, completely unaware of my unease. He stayed totally cool, radiating a chill confidence that suggested nothing could throw him off balance.

 "So, what's our plan for stealing that?" I whispered, a bit sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping in. Mr. Smith leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead, smiling as he said, “You’re absolutely adorable.” He then locked eyes with me, his expression serious yet warm, and continued, “I’ll explain everything once we’re back in our room.” He lightly traced his finger along the surface of his ring before taking my hand, guiding me into another room that was completely empty; save for the artwork adorning the walls. There, the monolith loomed, seamlessly merging with its surroundings, almost camouflaged among the exhibits. Anyone who happened to catch sight of it would likely assume it was just another piece of the collection, blending effortlessly into the curated space. My breath caught in my throat as I exclaimed, “Oh my god, what if someone sees us?” My voice trembled with anxiety. He simply shook his head, reassuring me as we stepped into the monolith, which then vanished, transporting us back to our hotel room. A wave of nerves washed over me as I contemplated the heist ahead. 

“Remi, my love, don’t fret; I’ll guide you through my methods,” he promised, and while I nodded in response, a lingering sense of uncertainty still gnawed at me. “Mr. Smith, why do you need to steal it?" It was a valid inquiry, yet somewhat simplistic. He let out a derisive laugh, responding, "Butterfly, a client from the year 2203 has commissioned me for it. They intend to purchase it from me, and since I possess the ability to traverse time, I often explore various periods to acquire specific artifacts. I ensure to substitute the brooch with a replica generated by the AI within the monolith, so the original items remain undetected as missing," he explained with an air of nonchalance. "Well, I guess. It is the 1930s, a time when high-tech devices for verifying authenticity simply don't exist," I remarked. He chuckled and shook his head, adding, "No need to fret about that; the AI is the pinnacle of high-tech innovation you could ask for," he quipped, giving me a playful wink. It was clear that he was no stranger to ventures like this one; perhaps Melanie had already caught wind of his unusual pursuits. With a resigned sigh, I nodded in agreement. Later in the evening we stepped into the monolith and dressed in the black fitted jumpsuits. The monolith appeared inside the museum after closing. There is a security guard that walks the hallways but with the help of the AI, Mr. Smith can pinpoint his location.

Chapter 1 Excerpt

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