"Hello! Is there anybody home?" called out the loud voice of a man, deep and gruff, scarily Glaswegian, as the door was rapped by a demanding fist.

Ross's eyes stared at the empty room in terrified horror. His pulsed kicked off again at a furious pace. His brain clicked back to life as he considered the worst. The fist knocking on the door was loud and authoritative. A vision of that fist flashed through his mind - he saw it coming towards his face with homophobic disgust.

Panic swept him. What a bloody nightmare! Then he forced some calm as he remembered his precaution. He knew he had locked the front door. Whoever it was couldn't possibly get in. The man would assume nobody was home and go away in a minute.

"Hello!" shouted the man again, rapping even louder.

Ross told himself to keep still and not give himself away, but he couldn't force the restraint. Instead he twisted frantically, pulling at the string around his finger, trying to get the pill box so hopefully he could force it open. But the box was quite heavy, and whilst he managed to move it, the progress was slow. There was no guarantee anyway that he would be able to force it if he did somehow get it.

He cursed his stupidity. Why the fuck had he done such an idiotic thing? What was the time anyway - surely an hour was up by now? And why was that man still knocking at the door - surely it was obvious that no one was at home, or if they were then they didn't want to be disturbed?

"Hello!" the loud shout came again, this time accompanied by an announcement: "Maintenance! I need to check the fire alarms."

'Oh, fuck!' thought Ross in his blinding panic. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!'

It came back to him in a flash more painful than the nipple clamps or the paddle hitting his ass - Hugh had mentioned it a couple of days ago but Ross hadn't paid much notice - he never did pay much notice to things like that - it was Hugh's flat after all, not his... Maintenance! The flat was part of a new development - a very posh complex with its own health spa... And its own maintenance team to keep everything in good repair! One of their responsibilities was to ensure the communal fire alarm system was in working order, and a quarterly check of every apartment was made. Today was the day and that man had a key! Ross had a key as well - but it was in that stupid pill box!

"Hello!" shouted the voice, though this time it sounded resigned. Then Ross to his horror heard the noise of a key in the front door lock. He squirmed furiously, twisting his hands trying to get out of the cuffs. But they were too tightly clipped around his wrists - there was no way he could escape without the key. He lifted his head, bucking wildly on the bed, pulling with all his might against the padded leather ankle cuffs, but he had restrained himself too well. He chugged on the string again - he frantically pulled. He prayed for a pop - he prayed for an hour. He prayed that the man wouldn't be too thorough in his job.

The front door opened and closed with a thump. Ross heard the man whistling to himself as he entered the hall and turned into the living room. Ross changed his tactics and lay perfectly still, trying not to make the slightest noise. After a short pause, he heard the muffled beep of a fire alarm. It was accompanied by the shockingly loud beating of Ross's heart.

Then Ross heard more whistling. He heard footsteps outside. Ross swallowed the drool that was collecting in his mouth. Panic gripped him. He watched the door in wide-eyed horror. Then thankfully the man walked on past.

A few moments later there was another beep. That was the alarm in the kitchen.

'That's fine!' yelled Ross silently in his head. 'That's where a fire would start. You don't need to test anything else!'

There were more footsteps in the flat. There was a fast beating of a heart. The man was still whistling - the sound a torment to Ross's ears. Steps were retraced - sturdy shoes clumped down on bare wood flooring as the man came closer to the bedroom door. Then the footsteps stopped. Ross swallowed again. He held his breath and screamed, 'No! No! No!' the words impotently echoing around his panicked brain. The knob on the bedroom door turned as if in slow motion, then the door swung open with all the surety of death. Ross gazed at it with wide open eyes - too fearful to close them - too horrified to blink.

A man appeared. He stepped into the bedroom whistling his tune. He took one look at the scene before him and froze in shocked aghast - the whistling trailing off as he too lost his breath. The man stared. A wave of sudden fury wiped across his face. Eyes met eyes. Ross cringed at the rage that he saw. There was a wrath that seemed to thunder from the man's heart and spew out through those black eyes screaming its threat, like the Kraken unleashed by Hades to destroy sinful man. Ross thought he was lost - that this game he had played would have a tragic end.

Neither man moved. It was a frozen tableau on a dangerous stage. Time stood still, motionless like the players. Ross stared at the man and the brutality on his face. It was an excruciating torment waiting for some action - the delay adding to Ross's fear and hideous humiliation.

Thoughts crushed him. What would the man do? Would he shout out in disgust? Would he call him a pervert? Would he use that big fist? Would he spit in his face? Or would he just walk away without a word, resuming his whistling as his mood thankfully brightened? That last one seemed very unlikely! Ross was surely in deep, deep, shit.

Ross waited, staring, too afraid to even breathe. Then the man took a step forward, and much to Ross's surprise and huge relief, the rage on his face faded away and a smile played at the corner of his lips.

"Fucking hell!" the man said after a few seconds. "This is just perfect. I've been hoping to get my own back for what was done to me. And you're giving it to me on a plate. I'm Nab... Nab McAlister! And you must be..."