Synopsis:

Another BigCloset TopShelf story.

Pinky's plan's for Joanie come to an unexpected conclusion, we learn more why things evolved as they did and what will be done to get justice for the victims. Joanie calls in a favor and meets a judge with an unfortunate name. The anti-Peeper plot goes balistic.

Andy Warhol said,"In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes." What if your 15 minutes came late in life, and fame decided to never let you go? Could you survive the circus your life would become?

Story:

Timeout 2-Pause/Record/Fast-forward: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out either Sapphire's Place,

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html) or the Big Closet (http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/taxonomy/term/117)."

I started writing this TG/sci-fi in the sping 2005 but only first posted anything as of Christmas 2005. I’m getting much better at it, honest. Your constructive criticism and advice helps. This is an exercise in the joys of creativity and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Any violations of copyright, trade mark or use of real people or incidents are purely for purposes of humor or parody and done solely for the free enjoyment of the reading public. All rights reserved in perpetuity, John from Wauwatosa WI, 2005-2006. See my agents at Control, now offering a line of mobile phones, “When you use one of our’s you really put your foot in it.”

Timeout 2

By John from Wauwatosa
Thanks to my sister and to Janet Nolan for proofing

Chapter13- Revenge of the Blonde 3, Pinky 6

Whateley Academy Dunwich NH, March 02-12, 2007

March 02, 2007 5:30PM

“Joanie, wakeup! Joanie, wakeup, please!” someone was saying frantically.

I opened my heavy eyes to a blurry, wobbling Pinky looking at me wide-eyed and on the verge of tears; at least I think so. I couldn’t focus very well. I shoved her away and felt intensely dizzy and queasy from the effort, on the edge of panic.

“Get away from me! Security will be here in moments, don’t compound the crime. You need help, but this will only make matters worse,” I said, my head pounding.

I was angry and terrified. I may be an exemplar, but her male form was stronger than me, and I was still dazed. I tried to sit up and get off the bed, but collapsed and promptly threw up. My head was throbbing with the Daddy-of-all-hangovers.

“They’re on their way. I called them, Joanie. Ghod forgive me, I can’t even do this right. I wanted to ruin you to help my Aunt...”

“Hartford, I know.”

I managed to sit up, my sense of balance improving enough I could sit without the room spinning too fast. I could start holding things in focus.

“You knew?” Pinky asked in shock.

“Since last night, I came here hoping you were on the level. I do want to help. I didn’t want to believe you meant harm, but it looked too much like a trap to ignore. You called them? I thought I signaled them on my wire?”

“You wore a wire? It wouldn’t have worked in here; the whole room’s a Faraday cage. They equipped several rooms here for energizers with uncontrolled electrical powers; it was the first room available when I arrived.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been hurt before; the wire was a precaution in case you were the person behind the smear campaign. Why did you call Security?”

“I was set to frame you for rape. Part of me didn’t want to, but I had to go through with it. Then, these cards fell out of your blouse pocket.”

She held up a pair of doctor appointment cards.

“I saw you’d made an appointment for a joint therapy session with Dr. Bellows. I remembered you talking about your kidnapping and assaults and how talking with Dr. Bellows helped. When I saw both our names on the cards, I just couldn’t.” She/he started crying, “You... do want... to help and I... oh Ghod!” she/he said between sobs and sniffles.

“Open the door, Security!”

“I’m okay, give me a moment,” I called out. “Excuse me, Pinky.”

I managed to get up with difficulty and stagger to the door. I was still muzzy headed, but it was clearing fast.

“Is everything okay, Joanie?” asked Officer Willkinson. I saw several other officers with him.

“I’m fine, but if one of the women officers could wait outside, I won’t be long, five or ten minutes at most.”

“Pinky, we need to talk, but not here. Fix yourself up and come with me.”

* * * *

Ten minutes later we were at Administration. I walked up to Amelia.

“We need to talk with you immediately in private, Ms. Hartford.”

“Using the Royal ‘We’ are we, Ms. Brown? My time is valuable, and I’m nearly done for the day. if this is one of your…“

She saw Pinky with me and motioned us into an empty room. I closed the door.

“Pinky, tell your Aunt Hartford everything, and I do mean everything.”

For the next 30 minutes Pinky poured her heart out, interrupted several times by bouts of tears. She spoke of her fears and her loathing for what the mutation had done to her. When she spoke of her molestations by her doctor, Ms. Hartford was first shocked, then increasingly angry.

“I wasn’t sure the first time he did it. I was like this then,” she pointed at her body, “and I thought I remembered him doing something down there, but I was drugged, tranquilizers to help with the therapy, he said. I couldn’t stay awake and kept nodding off. I felt this growing urge followed by an intense burst of pleasure, but I had nothing to compare to, so I wasn’t sure,” Pinky explained.

“The next time I was my normal self, and I knew what I felt. Ghod I saw him on top of me and... But I was too drugged to struggle. I was so ashamed, I couldn’t tell my Mom until the next day. She didn’t believe me and said if it did happen, it proved I was a whore. And was I her little girl or a mutant whore? Dad was out of town, again. I overheard them argue before he left on that last business trip. I think Mom believes he’s cheating on her. I went to the police the day after that. This nice lady detective tried to help, but I’d waited too long, and the evidence wasn’t conclusive. She came to my house and asked lots of questions, but Mom said I’d probably had sex with one of my boyfriends from school and was embarrassed. Aunt Hartford, I’d never done... you know, not that I didn’t want to. I just haven’t gone all-the-way. I remember Mom saying something like, ‘you know how teenagers are.’

“The detective couldn’t get a court order to test the doctor, and Mom was threatening me if I didn’t recant. I don’t know why Mom was like this; she’d never been mean to me before my... I remembered you’d sent me a ticket to visit Whateley when you learned I mutated. So, I packed my bags that night and left home before she woke. I haven’t said or heard anything from her or Dad since, and I left them word of where I was going,” Pinky explained.

“I thought it odd how your mother reacted when I called to say you’d arrived safely -- I just thought she was being formal. I know she doesn’t approve of mutants. She’s been cool to me since I changed, but to not try and contact you,” Ms. Hartford replied.

“Your mom’s anti-mutant, a Human’s First?” I asked.

“I don’t know, some of her friends used to say nasty things about mutants, but they stopped coming around after I changed. I’m not sure about Dad. I know he doesn’t like my Aunt, but he doesn’t get on well with Mom’s family. Why can’t Mom be proud of me? That’s why I wanted you to be proud of me, Aunt Hartford. You’d helped when no one else did, except for that lady cop. So when I heard Joanie was bothering you, and your campus society the Alphas was in trouble, I got angry and decided to make Joanie look bad, so you’d help me with the Alphas. When you said you couldn’t interfere, I still wanted your approval and advice. So that’s when I decided to frame Joanie for rape. It was the sickest, most disgusting thing I could think to hurt her with. I knew if I pulled it off, I would get your sympathy,” Pinky explained and looked disgusted with herself.

“If you’d told me what happened back home, you would have had my sympathy -- no one deserves rape. But what you did and tried to do leaves me no choice. I have to expel you, my niece or not. It’s the rules. I’m so disappointed, Pinky.”

“I’m not pressing charges,” I said calmly.

“WHAT!” Ms. Hartford shrieked. That was the first time I ever seen her lose control in my presence.

“I’m not bringing any charges. She stopped before she did me any real harm. I was at her mercy, yet she called security. That counts for a lot.” I turned to face Pinky directly. “Pinky, I've confirmed you were sexually assaulted by that so called quack that was treating you. I’m taking steps to make sure he never does that to anyone again. I have plans to make a special ‘research trip’ to obtain solid evidence that backs what your lady detective told Security.” At the words ‘research trip’, a smile grew on Ms. Hartford’s face. “He’ll go to jail for a long time, I promise. The patient he’ll next try to molest will be an undercover officer. A fellow mutant volunteered. I would have done it, but I’m too recognizable. Mindbird is our pigeon.”

Ms. Hartford winced, but I thought I heard a faint chuckle from her.

“How, Joanie?” asked Pinky excitedly. She/he was cheering up fast.

“That’s where your aunt, Ms. Hartford, comes in. As good as my colleagues in Security are, you have Officer O’ Brian and Chief Delarose to thank for finding your detective and obtaining her help, it’s been suggested your aunt’s remarkable computer talents might help us determine who’s preventing a proper investigation and arrest for the assaults on you. The detective told us several complaints about the doctor were filed since yours, Pinky, but with the same sorry results. Lines of inquiry are squashed at high levels. Evidence is thrown out by the courts, or lost, contaminated and so on.

The detective is eager to assist us. She’s sympathetic to mutants. She has a younger cousin at Whateley, our volunteer in fact. The doctor could be using blackmail or maybe is part of an anti-mutant group, who knows? Whatever the case, I’d like to take the whole lot down with your cooperation, Ms. Hartford. Just getting the doctor is not enough.”

A strange look was on Ms. Hartford’s face. She was almost happy, certainly not so sour faced or imperious. Sam Everheart could have done it, but this freed her up for security duties, and Ms. Hartford would be merciless towards her niece’s enemies. It was also good office politics. See, I’m learning.

“It’s gratifying you’re doing this for my niece, but I can’t let her actions slide, as much as I wish. What if the students found out?”

“They won’t, I’m not going to tell, and Security will keep a lid on their people. I’m confident Pinky won’t, and Dr. Bellows is covered by his oath. That leaves you, Ms. Hartford. If you’ll follow the spirit of the rules this time and let it go, I’ll, oh hell, I’ll stop teasing you by calling you Amelia, as much as it will deprive my inner child. Is it a deal?” Amelia nodded.

“We’ll need Ms. Carson’s approval on some of my plan and Chief Delarose’s cooperation. If you could expedite your computer search, Ms. Hartford, I’d be much obliged. I’ll you get a copy of Security’s findings. That should save time. You’ll have it tonight if you stop by security. I’ll call ahead. How soon can you have results for us, Ms. Hartford?”

“If your research is valid, I’ll have something by this time tomorrow Ms. Brown.”

“Good, as soon as you do, inform Ms. Carson and the Chief. I’d like to have a planning session tomorrow evening, if possible. Say 7PM in Security? We can’t bait the trap until we’re ready to get the rest of them. Until then, Ms. Hartford, your niece and I have an appointment with Dr. Bellows at 9AM tomorrow. I’ll make sure her teachers get the appropriate excused absence notices for any future counseling sessions. She is assisting an official police investigation, isn’t she?”

* * * *

We walked from Administration and toward the Crystal Hall.

“He’s a good man, Pinky, and would never hurt anyone. I’ll stay the whole session, hold your hand if you like. You’ll be fine,” Pinkly looked anxious but relieved as we got something to eat.

“Do you want me to stay the night? I have no problems with it as long as you’re comfortable.” Pinky was much calmer, but I still worried.

“No, I’ll be okay. Just promise me you’ll be here early tomorrow, I don’t think I can walk to Dr. Bellows on my own.” I gave her hand a squeeze.

“8AM for breakfast okay? My schedule’s open tomorrow.”

Pinky laughed for the first time I remembered. “Tomorrows Saturday, Joanie.”

“I’m turning blonde. Ghod, I’m becoming my sister!”

Pinky laughed so hard I saw tears.

“If you can laugh, I guess you’ll be okay. If anything comes up, leave me a message with Security or pin a note to the message board my door, third floor Poe. That’s right, you know where it is.”

“I’m so sorry about that poster.”

“It’s okay. What you did to me was pretty clever in a nasty way. It gave me an excuse to decorate the door, so some good came of it. Let’s get that brain of yours working on happier things, okay? That trick with Mr. Microphone was brilliant. If you put as much effort into your studies as you did to that project, you’ll do well.”

I had a thought that might give me a chance to influence her for the better. “Pinky, do you sing?”

“A little, I liked to when I was little, but when I changed...”

“I’m thinking of starting a student rock/country classics band and I could use some volunteers. When you’re feeling a little better, come and see me, and I’ll give you a tryout. As a boy you sound like a low tenor, maybe a baritone. As a girl you’re a soprano of some kind. If you’re even half-way good, I could use you. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I had one of your CDs, but I threw it out when I learned you were teasing my aunt.” She/he looked a little sad.

“I can get you a ton of them cheap, which means free, Pinky. My producer sends me all the promo copies I want. I bring you a couple tomorrow, okay?”

I got silly as I saw her smiling. I forced a grumpy look on my face.

“I suppose you’ll want them personalized,” I grumbled; Pinky hugged me so hard it hurt.

~~I have got to learn to be more careful in future, her/his hug nearly had me out of breath.~~

“Not so hard, girl. My breasts are aching from that one.”

“Oh, sorry. You want me to give them a massa…“It was some time before we stopped laughing.

* * * *

March 03, 2007

Dr. Bellows did his best to ease Pinky’s fears, though my being in the room helped. I went first and described my assaults and the fears I had. It was old ground for the most part, but I remembered a few details I’d forgotten.

Pinky’s revelations were staggering; no wonder she’s such a mess. We spent most of the morning with the doctor as a result, but she needed it. I don’t know how she made it this far without killing herself or going insane. Her problems go back way before her mutation. We’re scheduled for twice a day sessions for the next few days until Pinky gets her anger and self-loathing under control. He’s even seeing us on Sunday afternoon at his house. Dr. Bellows thinks if she can get though the next few weeks and sees there is hope, she’ll make it, but it’s a long haul. We told him about the investigation into her doctor and his supporters, and he agrees that Pinky should take as active a role as possible.

“You had the right idea, Pinky, but for the wrong reason and the wrong target. You’re right to not want to play the passive victim, in fact you never did. But, regrettably circumstance conspired against you. Some times you have no choice, if the attacker is bigger and stronger, but you can still fight back after. You can afford to lose a few battles if you ultimately win the war,” Dr Bellows explained.

“Where you went wrong was in seeking retribution against the first convenient target you found, our Ms. Joanie. Retribution is often mindless violence hardly better than the injury that spawned it. Justice is what you seek now, with Joanie’s help. See the irony? If you’d succeeded in harming her, she couldn’t be helping you catch the real criminals. Its sounds easy, and I know it seems hard, but don’t let your anger consume you. A child as clever as you can surely make a success of your life. I’d like to help you if I can. I’ll teach you methods to control your anger and release your frustrations in constructive ways. Will you work with me?”

“Okay.”

“Come on, Pinky, let’s get some lunch then let’s head to one of the music rooms. I’d like to see what you can do. See you at five for dinner with the Anderson’s, Doctor,” I called out.

* * * *

I spent a pleasant early afternoon playing various old recordings and having her sing along. Once we figured out her range, she wasn’t bad. I tried some of the same songs for comparison and found our voices complemented each other's. She had a narrower range. Mine’s extremely wide, so that’s not a fair comparison. And s/he had a husky quality to her/his voice, very sexy actually.

“If you want to, I think I can use you, Pinky.”

“You can? Great! Um, when do I meet the others?” she asked.

“Pinky, meet Joanie. Joanie meet Pinky. There you’ve met us.” I giggled.

“I’m the first?”

“Yah, don’t let it go to your head. If you hear anyone who has a nice voice or plays an instrument, let me know. I’d like to talk with them,” I replied.

I intended to call a friend for a favor later in the day.

* * * *

“Senator William’s office, how may I help you?” the secretary answered.

“I’d like to speak to the Senator, is Joe in?” I asked.

“He’s very busy, do you wish to leave a message?”

~~She’s trying to 86 me. ~~

“It’s very important, tell him it’s Joan from Whateley, he’ll understand.”

“He’s in an important meeting and can’t be disturbed,” she replied firmly.

~~A Saturday afternoon, with the Senate in recess, sure he’s busy. Time to make use of this fame they say I have. ~~

“What’s your name, Ma’am?”

“Betty Jo, I’m sorry but you can’t…“

“You will interrupt whatever he’s doing and tell him Joan from Whateley is on the line, or I doubt you will have a job by later today.“

~~I sound so bitchy, am I near my time again? Nah it’s too soon -- must be me. Didn’t know I had it in me. ~~

“It’s against the law to harass a US Senator, Miss.”

“Who’s that on the phone, Betty Jo?”

~~Sounds like Senator Joe. ~~

“Just some girl saying she needs to speak to you. Frankly, I think she’s a crank. Said to tell you she’s Joan from Whateley, whatever that...”

“Joan? Get her on my line immediately. That’s the girl who saved my granddaughter!” I heard him pickup the line. “Joanie, I’m so sorry my secretary…” I was feeling better now.

“She probably had one crank call too many. Put her on the line… Betty Jo, you okay?”

“Oh my Ghod, you’re her, and I said all those nasty things?”

“It’s okay, I have days like that myself. It’s good you protect the Senator, just be more polite, no matter what an idiot they sound like. I was a little pushy, but it is important, honest.” Then I giggled -- nerves I guess.

Joe was very helpful and gave me the name of a former Federal prosecutor, now a Federal judge, he’d gone to school with out East. Pinky’s house and the doctor’s office were within his jurisdiction, so he could help us obtain the needed warrants. In talking with Chief Delarose, I’d decided an outsider was needed as the corruption had to be fairly high, and I didn’t want this to go wrong. If we had to get Massachusetts subpoenas, the judge would know who to trust, but I preferred a federal case. Maybe we could get them on a civil rights conspiracy charge or possibly the Rico act. Joe would call ahead and explain what I’d told him, so his friend would know to cooperate.

We had a productive meeting that evening. Ms. Hartford’s research was enlightening.

~~When will crooks learn not to use their credit cards for illegal activities? ~~

She’d managed to put together evidence of a series of meetings and payments related to the doctor that correlated well to the reported sexual assaults. This all meshed with the info the detective gave us via a secure telephone. Ms. Hartford also got names of organizations they belonged to or contributed large sums to that required Federal reporting as political contributions. The biggest surprise was that a fellow US Senator was at some of the meetings, and he was of the opposition party. I was going to give Joe one hell of a great early Christmas present with that tidbit.

~~Gee, now I know where a body is buried. ~~

It would take a few days to get all the necessary subpoenas ready and I had a novel idea in mind as I wanted to nail him for both of his assaults on Pinky. But, the evidence was too weak. I hope Ms. Carson doesn’t mind I’m taking a few days off again.

March 06, 2007, a Federal Judges chambers in Boston.

“Chief Delarose, always a pleasure, and this is Ms. Brown, I’d recognize her anywhere. So you’re his newest officer, doesn’t the singing pay well enough?”

“I was the lead detective on a couple cases back when Judge Judy was a prosecutor, it was early in my career but we’ve kept in touch,” said Chief Delarose.

I tried not to giggle. “Judge Judy?”

He was definitely a man.

“Not J U D Y, Joanie, J U D A Y, it’s an old family name that got corrupted by immigrations,” Juday replied.

“Right, if it sounded too un-American or was too hard to pronounce, they changed it. We need a special favor. We need a type of subpoena that I doubt has ever been granted, If you’re willing, I’d like you and the Chief along to witness what I intend to do as it bound to cause a uproar in court,” I said.

“Old Joey said you had some special talents and to accommodate you if I could.”

“Joey?” I asked.

“The Senator.”

~~Ah. ~~

“You know I can stop time?” I asked.

“Joey told me last year, sent me newspaper articles and everything. He thinks the world of you, Ms. Brown. You know you look a little like his late wife?”

I nodded, Babs had told me that as well.

“I can do more than that. I can time travel and transport others with me.”

“You want to go back to your friend’s assaults?”

~~No wonder he’d done well in life, this guy’s sharp. ~~

“Want to come along? We can’t stop the attack. That would cause a time paradox, but if I can prove it’s not a hoax… I’ll need your subpoenas to set up surveillance to record it and several later attacks and some meetings between his suspected conspirators. The chief has the credit card bills and other evidence for that. Oh, one last thing, is your wife a jealous woman?”

“No, we’re happily married 30 years now, why did you ask?”

“As a side effect of my time travel I get... emotional in an embarrassing way.”

The judge looked at me with confusion on his face.

“She orgasms like a porn actress.”

“Chief!” I shrieked.

“Sorry, I saw it on the CCTV -- don’t worry, I erased it.”

~~There’s one in the ladies room? ~~

“The ladies room?”

“No, on a high antenna mast, it looks down on several roof tops to watch for illegal flyers. That took real professionalism to carry on despite the, you know. Joanie was on a research time trip for a construction project, Judge. I saw the ‘side effect’ soon after she and Mr. Lodgeman reappeared in normal time. You were most impressive, Joanie.” The Chief had a silly grin on his face.

“I’m also a projecting empath and at least once I projected my ‘side effect.’ Sorry.”

“I appreciate your concern, but with the Chief chaperoning us, we’ll be fine.”

* * * *

March 10, 2007, Boston

Dear d/j/w won’t go into much detail, but the “research trips” went well. The judge was quickly convinced of my abilities and gave us the necessary subpoenas. When he saw what that doctor did to Pinky, we had no trouble getting any warrant we needed. I felt sick watching, as I knew we could do nothing to stop it, but that he would pay.

We gathered a lot of evidence in less than two days, but what’s time to a time traveler? The hidden cameras and “bugs” worked perfectly. With Judge Juday’s warrants and our evidence, we went to the FBI. They, with the local woman detective, are now mopping up on the last few conspirators. We didn’t even have to send in our undercover plant. The federal prosecutors Senator Joe called in said our case was rock solid. I was very glad of that as I didn’t want to risk harming Mindbird despite her security training and our surveillance.

Juday says I probably won’t need to testify as both Chief Delarose and he are witnesses, and he realizes the risk I took revealing my abilities. If I have to testify, I will. I can always take refuge at Whateley for a while, and I do like it there. It’s so tempting to see what their reactions would be when if they learned a “teenage” girl took them down. I'll tell Pinky and her aunt the good news tomorrow -- if they haven’t heard already. The press is in a feeding frenzy on this one, especially as the corrupt US Senator was arrested earlier today in public. Gee, I wonder who leaked that to the press? Now, how to deal with my other problems, Peeper and Greasy?

* * * *

March 12, 2007 9:00AM outside Twain Hall

I watched from an entry way of a nearby building as the fun unfolded. Sam Everheart is a consummate professional and takes firearms seriously, big red “S” seriously. My Dad’s that way, though a WWII draftee and not a careerist like Sam was. He always told me never point a gun at someone unless you intend to shoot them. Sixty years after the fact, the training still persists. Sam only agreed to this apparent violation of that principle after she was convinced no chance of injury existed, and that it amounted to a Hollywood special effects extravaganza but on a tiny budget. Sam also was upset at the unauthorized use of her picture for profit and agreed my plan had some merit.

Several miles away in an abandoned stone quarry, Whateley and the local police had an outdoor target range. Security did most of its target practice at a range deep in one of the better ventilated of the numerous tunnels that were dug some years back, but not all training could be indoors. We’d rigged a set of remote control targets high on the quarry face so Sam could maintain her skills as a marksman, markswoman, marksperson, or whatever the PC term is. For safety, she shot from the Kane Hall tower and had several spotters to ensure a clear line of fire. This time she was shooting from a standing position slightly to one side of Twain Hall, thus shooting across the main walkway out of it.

The beauty of the plan is it did not look like a plan; it was deliberately chaotic and haphazard, as if we were merely reacting. I wanted Peeper to think we were so upset, that we were not acting rationally. Once he thought we were likely to react emotionally, he was ours. Rational Security officers would not violate the law nor do him bodily harm, but irrational officers? The trick was to make sure he couldn’t see a pattern to our actions.

We had secure voice links between each of us. Dave O’Brian and Lex were our spotters with help from the officers manning the CCTV and sensors. Lex had the additional duty of being our bumper. She would misdirect Peeper at a critical moment, much like a member of a pickpocket gang. Sam was the “star” today, and I was Miss Special Effects. A device attached to Sam’s rifle would send a time-delayed signal to the full stick of ammoniated dynamite we’d rigged at the target range. It was overkill, but at over two miles it had to be loud and extra flashy. The bag of magnesium flash powder surrounding the dynamite insured that. Sam would shoot a special blank load that made far more smoke and flame than normal. She bitched about all the cleaning she’d have to do to her 'baby', but understood the necessity. Peeper walked out the door and Sam fired the moment Dave and Lex said the line-of-fire was clear.

“What the...“ Peeper never finished the line as Officer Lex spun him around grabbing him hard by the shoulders.

“Are you crazy walking into a firing range like that?”

“Firing range, this is a walkway?”

He spun back to see orange plastic snow fencing and warning signs along both sides of the line-of-fire for a hundred feet or so. Lex led him around the back side of Sam’s “range” and safely away.

“But it wasn’t there when I came out the door!”

Then he saw the distant flash and smoke. Ten seconds after that he heard the distant explosion, he looked sick.

“Do you want to go to the infirmary, you must be ill?” Lex asked as they continued on.

We heard everything though our link. Sam packed up her rifle and Dave and I took down the temporary fence, pulling out the post holders and popping back the plugs of grass we’d taken out during the night. We’d prepped it all before dawn, lightweight fence posts with pre-attached clips, pre-cut plastic roll fencing and ready to plant signage. All positioned so yours truly could do the time stop bit and put it up in minutes my time, seconds real time. It only looked serious. It was actually very flimsy, but the illusion of a real warning fence was all we needed. Several members of the Peacekeepers in civilian garb and off-duty security officers had helped divert others away from the area at critical moments. We were taking no chances, and they were pissed at Peeper too.

It was a strain for me, and I needed a good rest soon after. But, Phase one was done. On to Phase two. I changed from my work clothes and into my security uniform, twin Tazers on my hips. They were unloaded, but Peeper wouldn’t know that. I walked up behind him as he exited class.

“Peeper, what am I going to do with you, naughty boy. It’s bad enough you fooled those students into taking candid photos of Lex and me, but Samantha? Officer Everheart is pissed. It’s all we could do to keep her from storming into your room and beating you until you confessed and turned over all your photos and cash. It’s a struggle to keep her calm when anyone mentions the posters.

“Did you know she suffers from post-traumatic shock? You do not want to be near her when she has a flashback, Thank ghod I’m a regen! That last time... don’t ask! As for me, I’m insulted. A measly large deluxe pizza with everything for the ‘most interesting’ photo of me? I’m worth lots more than that as the sales of your posters attest to, what is it now, 400 of the poster-size and 135 of the full-size of ‘Runner’s High?’”

I slowly ran my fingers over the tops of my Tazers one by one, while thrusting my chest out. Rather erotic, I thought. Peeper’s expression went from worried to smug.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to scare me as you can’t touch me without getting in a lot of serious trouble. I did nothing wrong, and you wouldn’t do anything to me. This is pure BS.”

I handed him a sealed envelope. “This piece of pure BS, as you put it, is formal notice of a civil lawsuit for trademark and copyright infringement. You have 30 days to respond. Ta ta.”

Peeper didn’t look so confident. “Lawsuit, for what?”

“When I got the recording contract, we brainstormed a bunch of future album names, Dawn Patrol and Denim Dreams are both copyrighted, at least when my name or image are in combination with it, and you used both, tisk tisk. As to my image, taking my photo other than for personal use -- you dirty boy -- journalistic or purposes of parody then selling it for profit, that’s gonna cost you big. I’m sure, as you can afford to attend an expensive, exclusive prep school, your parents are loaded. It’s only a few million. They'll get their copies of the lawsuit about this time tomorrow, bye.”

Of course I’m not actually filing it, but he doesn’t know. I think having it ‘filed’ as a Wisconsin court case and listing Senator Joe as my chief lawyer was a stroke of genus, all the harder for him to check on it. The reference number to the Wisconsin court is to a judge who’s a friend of Dr. Sara, whose child’s a mutant patient of hers. Now to Phase three.

“Phase three, all stations, phase three.” I called on the radio.

* * * *

To be continued

Revised 11/10/2006
Special thanks to my evil blonde sister for proofing assistance
Additional proofing assistance generously provided by Janet Nolan

Notes:

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