Joanie's farm project resumes, with changes. She learns more about Miki and why the mongoose may be attracted to her. The trip to take the Smith twins to their mom in hospital is finalized. Pinky and Joanie discuss the Alphas. The Sabers learn of Joanie and BET. Joanie has a series of revealations reguarding Eric and her that are frightening. And someone faints and it's NOT Joanie.

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?

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: 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)."

Here’s another chapter in part four of my TG/sci-fi/superhero/magic and anything else that comes to mind epic. It’s not that bad; I do have an overall story arc in mind, honest. I’m much better than when I started this, though my grammar and spelling remain flawed; ask Itinerant if he is still coherent. (Still no!) Your constructive criticism and advice continues to help. 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.

Adult content advisory: this chapter containts situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. If you survive that pap, there is some adult content too, so be warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Jade/Jinn/Jann "special consultant” Babs Yerunkle
Painless punctuation practiced by Itinerant
Sentences sanitized by Janet Nolan for your protection

Chapter 3, This Old Farm House -- Fran-o-rama, Hey Miki You're So Fine 2, You BET Your Life 2, Welcome to Adulthood 4

Whateley Academy Dunwich, May 02-May 04, 2007

May 02, 2007

I decided not to drive the GT this evening. Miki had spent considerable effort in warding it for my benefit, and I needed time to think about its implications. From both Lonnie and Dr. Tenent, I knew that I was passively storing any stray magic I encountered. In interacting with my warper field, these various magical energies were altering, becoming more alike, even coherent, like laser light. Did this mean I was a witch? The actions of the familiar, this Miki, seemed proof I was. That a magical creature recognized me as a practitioner of magic, and might be considering me as its next mistress, was compelling testimony. Was any of this dangerous? I had no way to be sure. So far Dr. Tenent and Lonnie thought it was safe, but as to the future? I knew banking and retail. I’d started out in college studying chemistry. I was becoming a historian by necessity, but sorcery was not something I’d ever studied or contemplated. I had lots of questions and precious few answers. I didn’t know whether to be worried or laugh. My life since last July third had been strange, was this all that different?

Rather than disturb the familiar’s hard work, I got some Lion Chow, plus a couple small pieces of raw meat I kept in a ‘fridge as treats for the smilodons, placed it in a small crockery bowl and set it out by the driver’s door of the GT. Lonnie said as long as I didn’t move the car the ward should remain intact. Miki would see my gift and be able to safely obtain the food. The ward should keep the treat safe for her alone, if I understood correctly. As a carnivore, I figured she would like it -- the smilodons certainly do. It was a way to start a relationship, I suppose, and I did owe her my thanks for warding the GT. I made arrangements to see Dr. Tenent later that evening. I decided to ride out to the farm on my Harley for a quick visit with the clean-up crew, then come back and see her. Chris transported my volunteers in an oversized Whateley van.

* * * *

I saw several of my friends helping Harry Wolfe assemble sections of mini-rail over by a couple of new dumpsters.

"’Evening, Harry, gang, what gives with the new train layout? I didn’t know Lionel made stuff in this gauge. Did it come with the self-unloading milk car?” I asked and Harry grinned.

“Ms... um, Joanie, we’re going to sort the debris from the farmhouse as we demolish it. Fran may be able to use the damaged wood as raw material for her special ability. The larger intact boards can be reused as is. The glass, plaster, concrete, and such are not salvageable by her, but I can do some useful things with it,” Harry said.

“Suitably sized and sorted, the glass, tile and mortar waste make excellent aggregate for concrete, and the plaster can be added after treating it in a kiln as a curing aid. Or it can be ground up and used as a soil additive -- to *loosen* clay soils and control acidity -- which is the more likely plan. That’s all very old-tech, but practical. Salvaged fiberglass or rock-wool can be chopped up and re-used as blown insulation, or as crack-inhibiting additives to any concrete pours. The roofing materials can be used in an asphalt emulsion for a driveway seal coat; very little of the old house will be unusable. The chimney brick can be cleaned and re-cycled as brick; the old pipe and wires have some scrap value. Amazingly, the old cast-iron tub is intact and can be re-enameled -- it’s a beauty, Joanie. There is real quality in that one,” Harry said, his eyes gleaming.

“Sounds like a plan, Harry. Listen up, crew; please follow Harry’s instructions for the time being. We need to get this mess safely cleared, then we can help build a new farmhouse. For everyone’s information, Jade and her sister, Jinn, are doing fine and expect to be back at work tomorrow or the day after,” I explained; the kids cheered when they heard the girls were okay.

“That’s wonderful news! When I heard Jade was hurt and I saw the damage to the farmhouse, I was afraid for her. Jade’s a nice girl and her sister is great for a dead person,” said Cindy.

“Are you having any trouble with your allergies, Cindy?”

“Nah, Harry rigged a spray system to reduce the dust, and that nice Mr. Stan got me these great filter masks and goggles. I work outside to be extra safe, but I’ve had no problems. Thanks for the job, Joanie; I needed the extra cash,” Cindy said.

“That’s great, Cindy, but be safe, don’t take any chances. Okay?”

* * * *

~~Harry and the crew will soon have the mini-rail and sorting stations set up. I wonder where are Stan or Morrie?~~

“Joanie?” I heard a young woman call out.

“Fran, it’s great to see you. What can I do for you?” I asked.

"It’s what I can do for you, Joanie. Stan and Morrie told me what happened, and of your immediate thoughts on a new house. I’m studying engineering and architecture, as they are complimentary to my mutant ability to manipulate natural materials. I believe I can *flow* the fieldstone in the foundation, and with some additional stone as raw material build you a basement and foundation suitable for a modified Prairie-school home. The roof will have a steeper pitch than a true Prairie-school or Usonian, -- (http://www.pbs.org/flw/buildings/usonia/usonia.html)
-- to better withstand our winter snows and to fit into the general look of buildings around here. I guarantee you will have a very livable house,” Fran said with enthusiasm.

“That sounds interesting, but I do have several key points that must be met, Fran. It must have in-the-floor heat and forced-air -- for comfort and for quick recovery after opening the door on a frigid day. Air-lock/mud-room entries are a must for efficiency, plus they help keep the house clean. My tenants and guests must feel secure, so it needs to be bullet and blast resistant and have an advanced security system. It must have an attached, heated garage and that’s non-negotiable, Fran. I’d like graceful, wild-life friendly, easy to maintain landscaping. Native plants arranged to project a natural appearance would be ideal, but nothing too formal. You will install the latest in communications capabilities throughout the building, of course. Oh, a sauna and maybe a hot-tub or spa would be lovely. Can you do that?” I asked.

“So the Bat-poles and Bat-cave are for your barn project then?” Fran asked, then broke-up. “I’m so sorry, Officer Lex told me to say that. Something about payback for a confusing night babysitting a kid,” she said.

~~I wondered when I’d get it for the *Tom* incident.~~

“Fran, tell Lex 'message received loud and clear'. Can you design me a dream house and not a nightmare?”

“Absolutely! I’m helping Stan and Morrie brainstorm the plans. Mr. Silva from This Old House has been most helpful. Operations is letting me use this 3D design program that calculates all the loads and stresses in a building plan. The engineers and professional trades people on campus are reviewing everything to make sure the plans are sound. Think of me as an idea person. The program and Operations staff provide all the necessary knowledge. We’ll have a plan in a couple days at most. This is exciting, Joanie; not that fixing up the old house wouldn’t have been challenging. To design a whole new structure...” she trailed off.

“Make me something special, and I’ll see you get properly rewarded, Fran,” I said.

“You’ll love it, Joanie! I know you like Mr. Wright’s work, so I’ll try to be faithful to his aesthetic, but with modern building methods in mind.”

“Do it and I’m in your debt,” I said, and practically danced to my cycle.

“Oh, Fran?” She turned and looked. “The Bat-poles sound kind of cool,” I said as I prepared to drive off. Fran looked at me and shook her head.

~~Today is gonna be a special one, I feel it.~~

I hopped on my cycle and rode back to Whateley.

* * * *

I asked Caduceus -- that’s Dr. Tenent to most of you -- about the strange animal I’d seen near the GT.

“So you’ve met Miki.”

“That’s what Lonnie called the animal,” I replied.

“What I’m about to say is partially speculation, but a student in Whateley College’s dying days gave the name Miki to a female Indian/Javan Mongoose that befriended him. He donated his journals to the mutant school, as did some of the old staff; that’s how I know. His Miki fits the descriptions of a creature described by most observers as a large ferret or mink that caused havoc on campus. Some reports of this mischief-maker go as far back as Whateley’s founding. A magic-using mongoose makes sense, as a colony of mongoose would have exploded across the country by now if they were breeding. They are quite prolific, and like most small animals they are not terribly long lived. For the sightings to always be of one animal, and over so many years, is evidence of powerful magic.

“Why is this Miki so focused on me? To invest time and energy to ward my car against potential enemies of mine seems a serious undertaking for a small animal or a human. What benefit can she possibly derive from her effort?” I wondered out loud.

“Look at it from the animal’s standpoint: you *look * like a witch, Joanie,” she said.

“Huh?”

It was better than replying,’There are ways of telling if she’s a witch.’ I love Monty Python and the Holy Grail but I needed answers and I needed Dr.Tenent to realize I was serious. This is not to say I wasn’t tempted. It’s not like I would get that straight-line again anytime soon.

“Joanie, since you’ve come here, you’ve been sporadically accumulating a magical *charge* -- for want of a better term. Observing you now, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a young sorceress, and a powerful one at that. Lonnie told me of her theory that you're a magic laser or particle accelerator, and I think she may be on to something. We’ll need to take a series of measurements, but a casual exam suggests your level of *charge* has increased since we last talked. This could be proof you’ve exceeded a critical threshold level, and the magic is now self-sustaining, possibly even self-generating. This would be akin to a fission reactor achieving a sustainable chain-reaction. It may be that your warper field is actively absorbing stray magic from your surroundings, Joanie. This would mean you're more like a mystic vacuum cleaner as opposed to a passive trap for passing magic.”

I listened with interest and more than a little concern. In less than a year my life had progressed from *ho-hum* to *wow* to the edge of *you have got to be joking*.

“No chance of my going supercritical? You know, KABOOM! Followed by a mushroom cloud, magically speaking? Lonnie didn’t think so but you the expert here.”

“It’s unlikely given you peculiar warper powers, though magic is largely unknowable, dear child. Even with all my experience, I remain a student of the art and I’ve worked with it for ... a *long* time,” Dr. Tenent said, practically daring me to ask HOW long. That stupid I am not.

“But what does Miki want from me?”

“Joanie, familiars are both guardians and assistants to magic wielders. They often act as guard animals. This is in addition to helping a mage or sorceress focus their magic. In exchange, the familiar receives food, companionship, and a share of the magic. Being close to a source of magic is necessary to sustain a familiar’s supernatural abilities.

“She could be acknowledging you as a sorceress of worth, or maybe she’s evaluating you as her next mistress. If so, that is a great honor. Familiars are most particular who they bond with and for this one to survive alone for decades shows Miki to be an unusually powerful and resourceful familiar. Let me know if you see her again; I’m interested. Miki has never acted like this before; I would have heard about it. Why did she wait so long, and why the apparent interest in you? There are many young mages and sorceresses here she could have bonded with,” Dr. Tenent speculated.

“Sorceress? I’m not a ... I’m a sorceress? Is there any danger here to either Miki or myself if we bond?” I asked, bewildered by her revelations.

~~Ghod, I am so confused by magic users. Am I one? Can’t they ever talk in plain English? Can I ever talk in plain English?~~

“There is some risk, but less for you than most. The bond can be so complete that if either dies, so does the other. Since the magic surrounds you but does not touch you, you should be safe. Your regen helps as well. Miki has survived, magic intact, on her own for decades so I suspect she would not come to harm. Oh, and Joanie, I’m not sure what you are, but you may well become a sorceress if you can ever access your reserves of magic,” she said smiling.

“My sister will LOVE this: ‘Oh sis, by the way, I’m a witch.’ A girl and a mutant was bad enough. This is handing her a solid-gold straight-line ... witch rhymes with bitch. Marvelous, I’m rich, too. Get the picture, Dr. Tenent?”

“Your sister hates you that much?”

“My sister loves me that much, and she is a blonde,” I said quickly and giggled.

“Blondes and magic are a dangerous mix,” Dr. Tenent joked. I could barely suppress the giggles, as Dr. Tenent is a natural blonde.

“I’m not a blonde, I’m a strawberry-blonde,” I said and grinned.

“I’ll bite. What’s the difference, Joanie?” she asked.

“We’re sexy ditzes like the pure-bred blondes, but with mercurial tempers,” I said and bared my teeth. Then we both fell apart laughing.

“P-please see me again soon, m-my dear. We’ll figure out what’s going and get it under control,” she said, and I left for my band practice.

* * * *

Tom and Tina looked happier than they’d been for some time. I noticed Suzie’s lipstick seemed to match his, though hers was on thicker.

~~That seems a fun way to apply it.~~ I thought, as I saw them kiss. They separated and grinned at each other.

I took out a tissue and walked up to him.

“Tom, you forgot something,” I said coyly.

“What?”

“This,” I said.

I grabbed his head, wiped his lips thoroughly, then gave him a scorching-hot kiss. He resisted at first but got into the spirit of it fast.

~~Oh yeah! You have got great taste in, um, boys ... Suzy,~~

“Ooh, I liked that,” I said, my eyelids halfway open, my voice sultry. I wasn’t faking it much.

Suzy looked confused and, well, angry. Then I got the giggles, skipped over... Yes, I said skipped. I’m a girl. I can do that. It says so on my girl license. What was I saying? Now I remember. I gave her a big hug and a more chaste kiss, though equally heartfelt.

“That was mean of me, Suzy. You have my permission to slap me for being a bad girl. I see what you find attractive in Tom; what a kisser! Can I steal him?” I said, and snickered.

“Only if I get Eric in exchange,” she said and smiled.

“Okay, but I’d have to kill you first; nothing personal, Suzy,” I replied, and we leaned against each other laughing while Tom stared at us.

“Suzy, you’d better straighten your man out over whom he can and cannot kiss,” I said.

“But I didn’t... You started... I...” he stammered.

I whispered in Suzy’s ear, and we both gave him that look a mother gives a child that has done something wrong.

“Tom, when will you ever learn a lady is always right? You’re a man, so it must be your fault,” I said, looking at him and shaking my head slightly.

I was about to comment on how parts of Tom needed no additional straightening, but decided not to embarrass the boy further.

“Be careful, girl. I was just playing with you two and he got my motor racing in spite of my intentions. I need a cold shower, bad. You’re one lucky lady,” I whispered in her ear.

She hugged me back. “I know I’m lucky, that’s why I’m on the pill. Remember you helped me call Mom and she said it was okay, Joanie. She’s not mad at you or me. It’s not like we’ve done *it* yet, but more just in case,” she confided to me.

I was shocked, yet pleased, at her revelation. Then, looking at Tom, I could see the *merit* in her precautions. Though he’s was not an exemplar, Tom was an attractive young man, and he certainly thought my niece was eye-catching.

~~I’d be amazed if there’s any blood left in the rest of his body with him in that condition. Joanie, get your mind off of sex. Time to get your mind off reproduction and on to more important things, Girl... make that more immediate things. Cummon, Girl, think of something, anything but *that*. Oh, marvelous, now the only thing I can think about is *that*. Damned perverse teenaged mind! ~~ After a few minutes I settled down somewhat and started our band practice.

“In the words of Frank Zappa, ‘Music is the best.’ Are we ready to play now, everyone?”

* * * *

We had a productive session and added another song to our repertoire. Tom and Tina appeared much happier, but to be safe I asked Pinky afterwards, in private.

“I know you don’t like to pry, but did you sense how the twins were?”

“I snuck a peek to make sure they were okay. They are better than when they first arrived here, but their pain remains strong. They miss their parents desperately and are aching for any contact with their mom. You should take them to Madison this weekend, Joanie; they need it. I’m not jealous at all; I know you’re doing this out of love. Please say hi to Eric for me. Oh, ask him about his friend, the boy I met on Easter Sunday. I know I don’t have any claim on him, but have Eric tell his friend I still think of him sometimes and he’s a good kisser. And so is Eric, a good kisser that is,” Pinky smiling wistfully

“Ah, you’re not going all boy-crazy on me are you, Pinky?”

“No. I’m not one of *those* girls, the kind of girl you need a crowbar to pry them off of their boyfriend, like *some* people I know,” she said sounding a bit accusatory.

“Crowbar? Are youse saying I’m some kind of nymphomaniacal slut what is desperate to impale myself on her boyfriend’s manhood? Dat’s I’m some out-a-control ditzy dame whose entire life revolves around *riding--the-pole*?”

“No. I meant...” Pinky said confused.

Youse knows me well, girl!” I replied in a *Wiseguys/Goodfellows/Goodfeathers* voice, and faked being on the edge of orgasm. Then I giggled, and so did she.

“While you're gone, I’ll be the best kitty-wrangler and clean-up crew mistress possible, Joanie,” she said, and she radiated happiness.

“Did you go empathic on me there, girl?” I asked. “I felt all warm and tingly, but not sexually aroused. It was a more a sense of contentment.”

“It was an accident, Joanie, I’d ...” she looked

“Whoa there, just asking -- it felt nice to feel what you were feeling. That came out awkward, huh? I mean I felt all warm and safe like a baby suckling at her mother’s breast.”

~~Why did I say that?~~

“I’m happy you’re not an angry girl, anymore,” I said, and hugged her gently. “Whoever earns your favor will hit the jackpot when it comes to love. To think that’s all been bottled-up since your mutation; what a waste. Do you feel everything that intensely, Pinky?”

“Joanie, I’m empathic, I feel my own emotions and the emotions of others. That’s why you felt so content; you experienced what I feel in your presence and your own emotions being returned to you. You're right; I felt it too,” she finished.

“Whatever it was, I sensed no jealousy, only love and a sense of attachment,” I added.

“I could never be jealous of you, Joanie,” Pinky said, then she got silly “Except for those breasts of yours, Joanie. Puberty was inordinately generous to you,” she said and gestured with her hands like I was hefting a pair an exotic dancer would be envious of.

“Pinky!” I exclaimed. “I’m impressed, paraphrasing Billy Bo Bob Brain from Pinky and the Brain, second season of Animaniacs.”

I tried to think of another appropriate reply, but I couldn’t. Then I remembered something I’d wanted to ask her for some time.

“Pinky, dear, what about joining the Alphas? Are you still interested? It was your aunt’s clique, so it is a family legacy,” I asked.

“I wanted to, that’s why I tried to hurt you -- to impress them and my aunt.” She looked so sad after she said that.

“It still hurts when you think back to then? I’ve forgiven you, Pinky, and I understand why you were that way. You were in anguish; you had to react some way to the stress. Thankfully, you turned away from disaster in time, my friend.”

“I wouldn’t feel right joining, now. I don’t think they’d admit you, and if you can’t join, I won’t,” she stated forcefully.

“Don’t let that hold you back. They may have been a bit stuck-up in your aunt’s time, but they were a legitimate campus organization and respected. You could restore them to that instead of all this petty nonsense they are into now,” I replied.

“I don’t know if I have the time with my studies, the smilodons, the band, and you,” she answered.

“Think on it; maybe you could make them better than in your aunt’s day -- both respected and liked?” I suggested. “Your aunt would coach you, and I would be there to take the Alphas to task if they gave you grief. You could work quietly in the background to support the group, gather friends, and scout your adversaries. Then, when you’re a junior or senior, you mount a palace coup and execute the gang of despots. Oops, that’s how to become a third-world dictator,” I said and giggled.

“Okay, I-I’ll consider it, Joanie,” Pinky chuckled. “My aunt told me she’s embarrassed how the current leaders have dragged the Alpha’s reputation down.”

“If you want to, and only if you want to, Pinky. I‘ll support you if you decide to join the Alphas and make them an admired organization,” I said.

“Maybe I will, but not until after I give the kitties a workout,” she finished.

* * * *

I stopped by Administration for my mail, then hustled to the Crystal Hall. I got... well actually Cheryl got me my dinner -- she had my favorites memorized -- and we sat down to eat. Once you got past Cheryl’s tough ‘Joisey gal’ act, she was a considerate young woman. The rest of the gang was back from the farm and all appeared intact -- a big improvement from recent events out there.

“What’s in the manila envelope, Joanie?” Cheryl asked.

Lonnie leaned in close too. The incident with Miki, the mystic mongoose, had made the three of us closer somehow. It had not improved on my appalling attachment to alliteration, alas.

“Yes!” I cried out when I had a peek at the contents.

“What is it?” several of my friends asked. I giggled in response.

“Must be something devious; spill it tall, blonde-like and gorgeous,” said Cheryl as Bogart, convincingly so.

“Ask Ms. Pinky about BET,” I said and grinned.

“You didn’t?!” Pinky asked excitedly. I nodded and snickered.

“Joanie is into gambling?” asked Lonnie.

“No, she’s being silly. She means ‘B’ ‘E’ ‘T’; it’s a cable TV network. Joanie is going on their summer music special, “ Pinky explained.

“But that’s for ...” Cindy started to say.

“... artists of color. Some database program saw my name and that I was popular on the music charts. It assumed I was ethnic, to use an older phrase. This is a confirmation of my acceptance of their invitation. The rest of the materials are some songs I intend to record under a pseudonym with the help of Mr. Karaoke,” I said giggling at the end.

“Joanie’s recording hip-hop?” Cindy said, surprise on her face.

I looked at the song-list, giggling.

“And I’m recording soul, urban contemporary, some classic ballads and maybe a gospel song or two. Music is for everyone to enjoy; why should it be categorized?” I said.

“To make it easy to find at Sam Goody?” said Tina, adding a pitiful rim-shot.

“That is devious, manipulative and down-right sneaky, I love it!” exclaimed Cheryl.

“That’s what I told her the other day,” said Pinky.

“So our Joanie is a criminal genius, I’d never thought she’d sink so low. You’re supposed to be setting a good example for us. My mother will be disappointed in you,” said Suzy pouting.

I was confused for a moment; it was the break she was waiting for. The *demon-girl* had remembered my secret weakness. Suzy struck while I was defenseless, the fiend coming up from behind me, her devilish fingers lightly flicking along the sides of my exposed midsection. Me and my foolish fondness for crop-tops, but then I do have a sexy midriff. I was soon unable to help myself, convulsing in giggles.

Ghod I’m ... ticklish!~~

“St-st-stopp, th-th-that, Suzy. I’ll w-wet mys-self ... N-no!” I said between spasms of giggles as I gasped for air.

I was laughing so hard, I was close to blacking-out from hyperventilation.

The rest of my so-called friends joined in on the assault. I laughed so intensely I lost control. I tensed, my back arched, and I came. It was an accident on their part, but I honest-to-goodness came ... fireworks, trains going in-and-out of tunnels, *seeing* colors, smelling phantom smells -- the works. After I returned to consciousness, I had to run to the lady’s room and clean up. My legs could barely support me.

~~That was better than sex! Hell, I came like it was sex. If Eric learns I’m this ticklish... I will be one blissed-out woman. Wow!~~

I returned after composing myself. My friends took one look at me and didn’t say a thing; they burst out laughing instead. Apparently I was still *glowing*.

This was one way I was not like my mother. She was not ticklish in the least, and she claimed Dad had tested her thoroughly -- high/low, hither and yon, many, many times -- and failed. Now that I look back from the vantage point of a woman, I get the impression she preyed on his competitive streak many times this way. The strange expression I remember on her face makes me think, not only was she proud of *defeating* him, but she got some great foreplay out of it.

~~You dirty-minded minx. Damn it, Mom, I’m proud of you! What a sneaky way to get what you want without asking for it. My Ghod, my parents had SEX!~~

~~Well, duh, unless your sisters and you were mail-order.~~ I thought and giggled.

~~I wonder, ‘Oh Eric, sorry, but I don’t feel a thing when you stick your...’ Nah, it’s lacking in subtlety.~~

* * * *

I called Madison after I returned to my room, and confirmed that Tom and Tina’s mom, Donna, was able to have visitors.

“I saw Ms. Smith today, and she’s doing well -- better than expected. We’ve been talking with her and checking into her past. Donna was a college athlete and remains an active swimmer, cyclist and power walker. She may be 37, but her appearance was of a woman of about thirty. Her physiological condition and age were better than the average 25 year old until her kidnapping and assault,” explained Dr. Sara.

“Gin was saying how she and her magic pals could reset Donna’s body to a younger age, or even radically change her appearance once she was strong enough. I wonder, given how active she was and the risk from the kidnappers being out there, would she consent to Gin’s magical extreme makeover?” I asked Dr. Sara.

“Katie is proof Gin can sling a mean transformation spell, and I’ve had them both here for frequent tests to be on the safe-side. I have access to Gin's old medical records and some of her old test samples. Katie is equivalent to Gin’s measures at the age of four to four-and-a-half, but she is brighter, healthier and, dare I say, more precocious socially. But then that makes sense as Katie has some access to her adult skills. I find it most remarkable that Katie is psychologically sounder than you or I, but then we’re both loonies, Joanie,” Dr. Sara said and laughed.

“So, if the magic is carefully crafted, Donna could benefit from Gin’s offer?” I asked.

“It could do for her what your mutation has done for you, and provide Donna the opportunity to start over. She could fall in love -- even start a new family if she wanted to. Gin is confident she could regress Donna to her teens, and alter her appearance enough to be Tom and Tina’s cousin or anyone else. She could be a Beyoncé look-a-like, a young Katie Holmes, a Lucy Lu college-age cutie or even like you, Joanie.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that last one; she’s a slut,” I said and giggled.

“Donna is a college grad with valid teacher’s license and business experience. She’s not a mutant, but with my alumni connections I could get her a job as a new teacher or administrative assistant in a school near Whateley. She’d be safer there than in Wisconsin and she’d be near her kids.”

“Sara, what if Gin and her fellow magic friends incorporated some of Tom and Tina’s DNA or BIT’s in her makeover? Could Donna become a mutant, or is she a dormant mutant whose powers never surfaced? Tom and Tina must have got their mutant genes from their parents; completely spontaneous mutation seems unlikely. If I recall correctly, the drug they were given only works on those with a significant number of the so-called mutant genes?” I asked.

“We never ... Joanie, it’s entirely possible, both your scenarios. Damn, have you considered training as a physician?” she said, her voice full of motherly praise.

“Considering my expected life-span, I could end up a doctor. I doubt I’d be as good as you, Sara,” I replied.

“Joanie, you’d likely be better,” she said, her voice upbeat. “I’ll run your questions by Gin then let Ms. Smith know her options.”

“That’s something they will need to discuss as a family. I will come this weekend, I promise, Sara. I need to go now and call Eric as I won’t be able to Friday night,” I said and giggled nervously. I could feel the beginnings of my arousal.

I~~ Not now, libido, behave yourself!~~

“Are you okay with this platonic boyfriend business? You sound more like you want to escalate to his business pumping in and out of your business?” she asked, teasing me, I hoped.

“No! I, well, I’m not sure,” I said, my voice breathy and deeper than usual. “Sara, I want him so bad sometimes, I ache. I know we can’t... you know. I know it would be wrong to have him, criminally wrong. Given his age, there is no excuse for it, no matter how right it feels in my heart,” I said, breathing oddly and feeling flush. I continued. “Though we... I... well, we dearly want to, the situation is under control. I have to see him, that’s all; I miss him so much. It’s not the same over the phone. I’d better go, Sara; I’m keeping you from your patients. I’ll be okay, just nerves I guess,” I said, not realizing until after I’d hung up I was on the edge of an orgasm. My embarrassment deflated my libido, and I returned to a level of control.

~~I lied to Sara. ‘The situation is under control.’ I’ve never lied to her. I’m lying to myself, too, if I believe I’m in control with respect to Eric. If Pinky wasn’t there Easter Sunday evening, we would have. Ghod forgive me, but we would have, I know it. I couldn’t have stopped once we’d started. I wouldn’t have wanted to. What is with me? Ghod, I was breathing hard over the phone to Sara just thinking about Eric. Am I really this way or is it my imagination working overtime to scare me?~~

I caught up on some class work, made my d/j/w entry and fell into a restless sleep.

* * * *

May 03, 2007

I took my early morning run with my friends, but I was not my normal chatty self. Pinky caught on to that fast.

"What’s wrong, Joanie? You seem distracted and are decidedly not your usual Miss Morning Person,” Pinky asked and tried to smile, though I sensed she was concerned.

I waited until we were alone; the rest of my fellow morning workout group noticed and kept a discreet distance.

“Pinky, you know me better than anyone. Am I getting in over my head with Eric? The thoughts I’ve had about the two of us scare and excite me. You were there on Easter morning when we started to... Am I about to do something incredibly harmful to both of us, or am I worried over nothing?” I asked. Pinky seemed uncomfortable at my question and spoke carefully.

“I try not to read your mind; you know that, Joanie. I was being silly when I made the joke about *some* people and crowbars, but your and Eric’s feelings are intense. That you both know it would be wrong at his current age is good. That you are frequently questioning your motives in relation to Eric is better. I’m no expert; I only have my observations, empathic sense and gut to go on. Your intentions are honorable, but...” she hesitated.

“But what?”

“Your bodies might sabotage that, Joanie. Eric’s a handsome teenager at the height of puberty; you are physically a 17-year-old girl with an enhanced sex drive and the body of a Centerfold -- a real, genuine Playboy Centerfold! During our Easter visit, I couldn’t help feeling what you felt for each other. Not that you would do it deliberately, but throw enough lit matches at a pool of gasoline, sooner or later...”

"...whoof! Up in flames?” I asked.

“Yeah, sorry, but that’s what I sense. I don’t mean to hurt you. You want me to be honest, don’t you?” Pinky said, her voice close to crying at the end.

“That’s alright, Pinky, I wanted the truth. Thanks for not pulling your punches. I was coming to a similar conclusion, as much as it pains me. I’ll have a good talk with Eric and Babs, and we’ll set some ground rules to keep us on safe ground. I want this to work, I don’t want to give him up, not after waiting 49 years to find love. It would hurt both of us, and then I’d have to start dating men to find a replacement and that could be a problem. With my libido I’d turn Dunwich into Peyton Place,” I finished.

“Huh?”

“Sorry, that was too 1960s; let’s say Desperate Housewives?”

“You have the figure to be Terry Hatcher’s character,” she replied.

“Pinky, I have a libido that makes them look like saints,” I said and giggled.

“You would, Joanie, you would,” Pinky replied and laughed. “You go see your Eric and work it out. It would be a waste to separate you two. His temperament seems the perfect complement to yours.”

“You’ll find your mate someday, Pinky, and when you do I’ll cry for joy. Then I’ll get a shotgun and make the sorry bastard marry you,” I said, snickered and we went off to shower and eat.

* * * *

I noted with satisfaction the treats I’d put out for the mongoose, Miki, were gone and several colorful pebbles were on the plate arranged in neat fashion. I picked them up and placed them in a pocket of my backpack/book-bag.

“Thank you for the gift, Miki,“ I called out, and curtsied.

I thought I heard a chortle and a scurrying sound from some bushes on the edge of the grounds. I placed a small piece of dried, uncured, unseasoned beef -- pemmican? -- on the plate and ran off to the farm, Chris followed with my troops in a Whateley van.

* * * *

My friends were quickly put to work by Harry. I could see the mini-rail system was up and ready, and they would make solid progress on clearing the debris today. The huge mobile crane was on-site, and I could see some Operations workers -- assisted by several tentacled robots -- assembling the cradle to lift off the upper part of the damage farmhouse. I was elated to see Jinn and Jade back at work; they appeared to be testing some equipment.

“You look lovely, Ms. Jade, and your sister, Jinn, looks enchanting as always,” I said, and I thought Jinn blushed.

“Did you blush, Jinn?”

“Yeah, I felt like I should, and I want to appear less freakish to people. Being dead, I don’t show most of the body-language clues live people do. I’ve been working on this trick for some time. I have to thin and thicken the pigment layer I control just right, or the shading is wrong. I’ve experimented with multiple shades of pigments, but it’s tricky,” she explained.

“You were most convincing, and I thank you for the effort to make me more comfortable in your presence.” I looked around, we were alone. “Ladies, how’s Jann?” I whispered.

They looked around and Jade spoke.

“She’s fine and working with us today, but *undercover*. She says thanks for not... you know,” said Jade.

“My pleasure, ladies, I try to respect peoples confidences. What were you *two* doing earlier? It seemed like a radio check to me. ”

“It was a test. These are loaners until our new radios come. They will be similar in design, but with greater range and other advances,” Jinn answered.

“Where’s your ear bud?” I asked after looking in Jade’s ears and not seeing any device.

“I’m not using an ear bud radio anymore. This is a sub-space dermal patch radio, and it’s located just behind my ear. I’ve had them before, but they had serious limitations. These loaners are cheaper to make and are more powerful than the ones I used last fall. They are still are easy to lose and have a limited range, regrettably. The new ones I’m getting use body heat to generate power and keep their storage cell continuously charged. Having more power available allows for greater range for my unit. Jinn can’t produce body heat but she can use friction and her TK on a piezoelectric device to recharge her patch radio. Bunny hopes to tinker with the smart-camo of the patch and have it function as a solar cell. In a few days I’ll get small unit that contains dedicated molecular machines that can build a new radio in hours, given the right nutrients,” she said.

“The way you said that confuses me, Jade; are these are manufactured or grown?” I asked.

“Both, sort of; my friend Bunny made these, but they are too expensive for everyday use. The radio Jinn lost was an older one, based on a modified in-the-ear hearing-aid body -- cheap to build and much more affordable for me. This new system cost lots more at first but the nutrients are cheap so additional radios cost little. I love my friends in Team Kimba, but I want to pay my own way,” she said.

“So you have a self-reliant streak then. That is commendable, Jade, but don’t turn down help when offered. I was alone when I came here, and the friends I’ve made mean everything to me. I’d be lost without their help,” I said.

“You ... you needed help? But you're ... 49 and rich,” she whispered the last bit.

“I was a man ten months ago, then -- POW! -- I was like this when I woke, and I’m still getting used to all the changes. My friends in MSG, my friends in Iowa, and my new friends here made all the difference,” I explained.

“The Madison Supers Group, they’re one of a couple up-and-coming supers groups from the Midwest, them and the St. Louis Six. I believe several Whateley graduates are members, Joanie, and yourself … eventually!” she said and giggled.

“My friend Dairy Maid, and my personal physician Dr. Sara Grobschmidt-Taylor, lovely ladies both, are Whateley alumna and members of MSG. Sara is one of my self-appointed moms,” I added.

“Whereas Babs Williams is your mother-in-law, or she will soon be -- I overheard some of your band members speaking at the farm. Don’t worry; I won’t tell, I promise, Joanie. I think it’s so romantic you having a boyfriend and the two of you having to wait until it’s acceptable to be lovers. It’s like a plot out of an old movie or a great Anime. I’d love to have a boyfriend and... when I’m older,” Jade said, the pain and hope in her voice unmistakable.

“Someday, Jade. With all the technology we test here, plus the medical and magic experts, I’m certain. When that day comes, please let me know. I’d like to be among the first to congratulate you. You’ll be an exquisite woman, Jade, like an intricate carving in your namesake. You’ll be one-of-a-kind and a precious thing,” I said and curtsied. “Sorry, I’m not up on Oriental etiquette.”

“That wasn’t Imperial court manners, but the respect intended was clear. I think I will tell you about what I’ve tried to fix my ... condition. It would help to unburden myself.” She looked around. “I have this boy who likes me. He knows the truth, but has been real sweet. I, um, he knew me when I was a real girl and...” she smiled then fought back her tears.

“Whatever it was that fixed you, wore off. I’m sorry; I bet you were lovely.” She smiled and her sniffles eased. “You tell me some time, you hear? I’m willing to listen when and wherever, Jade, except this weekend. I’m escorting two of my friends to see their mom back home. Then, I’m visiting Iowa before I return,” I said.

“Joanie and Eric sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” Jinn sang and snickered.

“I’d kill you for that, but you’re already dead,” I snarled then giggled. “Jade, I look forward to hearing your story. Remember to send me the bill for the radios, makeup, soap, shampoo and replacement clothing I mentioned yesterday. I’ll figure a way to pay Jann for her time that won’t expose her,” I added.

“I will, I will,” she said, and I walked away felling happy for the girl-to-be.

* * * *

“Joanie! Over here, please,” called Morrie. Stan, Fran and several of the TOH people were waiting by a portable table.

“What do you want?”

“We have a preliminary design for the new farmhouse; Fran worked overtime on it,” Morrie said.

“She was a woman obsessed, Joanie. I helped where I could, but she didn’t need much. She is remarkably good for a novice with little training. Fran is a natural at design. We simply pointed out potential problems and suggested work-a-rounds,” Tom Silva said and gave Fran a bow.

Fran looked embarrassed at the attention but recovered quickly.

“Joanie, these are just the 2D blueprints. I have a holographic walk-through processing as we speak. This will give you a rough idea. Internally, it’s laid out like a Usonian, but the exterior and roof look enough like a 1900’s Federalist style farmhouse to fit in with the local esthetic. It’s a semi-open plan but with plenty of storage and small privacy nooks. Adding a pitched roof to the structure adds lots of storage space to the core Usonian structure and the option of placing some of the mechanicals in the attic as opposed to the basement. The attached garage looks like a kitchen wing to the casual eye.

“Don’t believe all that flattery. I got a lot of help from Tom and the staff in Operations. They made sure the design is safe and practical” Fran explained.

A barrel-chested man spoke next, “I am impressed with your attention to detail, Fran; these plans are well thought out for an early draft. I’ve seen finished plans not near as detailed. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Richard Trethewey, I’m the plumbing and HVAC expert on the show.”

“Ah yes, plumbing, the trade most responsible for big cost overruns and forcing changes in the framing,” added Mr. Siva.

“Hey, I resemble that remark. That’s why it pays to get things right early on, as a lot of costly mistakes can be avoided by careful planning. I hear Ms. Barnes is devising a 3D holographic model?” he finished.

“A full-scale walk-through model of each floor complete with where all the mechanicals and utilities run. The model will highlight areas of concern, whether due to excessive stresses or conflicting utilities. I’m so lucky the staff in Operations is helping me use the program,” Fran said, unperturbed by the camera and TV personalities.

A far younger, curly haired man spoke next, “I’m Kevin O'Connor, the host of the show. I was concerned when the production schedule was changed at the last minute, but I must say these will be fun projects. I’ve seen 3D mockups and computer models before, but a walk-through?” he asked.

“It’s based on technology the military uses in their simulators. With the right mix of force generators we could literally walk through the whole house, stairs and all. Being the Academy, we’ll do better,” she said proudly.

“You’re kidding, of course? “ Mr. O’Conner asked.

“With this school, I’d believe her. By Academy standards, my *special* abilities are rather average,” I replied.

* * * *

I left them to work things out, and went back to campus to meet Charlie Lodgeman for a ‘research trip’ I’d postponed long enough. This was one of the magic hot spots Dr. Tenent recommended we scout prior to my actual summer seminar time trips.

“Something happened here on the future grounds of Whateley nearly one -hundred and fifty years ago. A powerful source of magic, possibly a demon, is confined in a mystic tomb on the edge of campus. The wards are so strong and skillfully prepared; we have had little success in identifying what was buried, or precisely where, but buried it was. Given how well our various Operations ‘research trips’ went, I think we make a good team.

"Joanie, I notice your magic aura is stronger than when we last traveled. It’s not so strong I can’t mask it, but it will take some effort this time. You are getting help with that from Dr. Tenent, right?” he asked.

“Yes, she thinks I could become a sorceress with training. That’s great if it happens, though I’d be satisfied not being a menace to my friends or myself. Charlie, I thought to be a witch or Sorceress you had to be one with the magic to be part of it?”

“Not necessarily. You don’t have to be filled with magic to manipulate it though spells and potions. The most powerful mages and Sorceresses can access magic from within themselves and from their surroundings. Many magic users store magic in talismans for release later. Your warper field’s odd interactions with magic make the shell or aura of magic surrounding you your own self-contained talisman.

* * * *

We left to change into period clothing, so if we were spotted we wouldn’t seem out of place. As this was prior to the beginnings of Whateley there would be no convenient rooftops to set up on. We picked a large rock outcropping -- big enough to stand on -- and we traveled back in time on top of it. The age of the trees around the rock indicated we would be well screened on arrival at out destination in time.

* * * *

November 01, 1857, 4:30PM

* * * *

“Charlie, this should be an hour before the entombment of the magic object at sunset. That’s what you wanted right? By the way, nice hat,” I said and giggled.

“Don’t laugh at the hat; the broad brim will help keep me dry. This is perfect, Joanie. We’ll set up our observation blind over here. It provides a good view of the open grave site and of the area of woods the magic was confined in. I’m sorry about the rain; at least these oilskins will keep us reasonably dry. Remember, we collect our data, triangulating the positions with landmarks surviving to our time then travel back, no sightseeing or heroics, Wonder Woman,” Charlie said.

“I am not Wonder Woman, and that name is trademarked. Though I must admit the rope and boots are sort of kinky, ooh,” I replied and snickered, though with a significant sensual tone to it.

“Will you be alright, Joanie?”

“No problems. It’s not that far back in time or duration relative to my abilities. It’s for a few hours tops and I... Lovely, I didn’t decompress beforehand; I knew I forgot something. I’ll be okay, Charlie, horny but okay,” I replied.

This was not good, but from the first Operations trip I knew I could handle it. A wagon and team of horses drove across the open field to the grave site, and several burly men manhandled a pair of caskets to the ground. They placed ropes and boards across the hole and slid the caskets on top. Sturdy stakes driven into the earth with a couple turns of rope wrapped around them would serve as crude capstans to lower the caskets safely into the graves. Soon a group of mourners arrived, dressed in the mournful black that Victorian custom demanded. Between the cold rain, the leafless trees of November and the mourners, I felt a great sadness.

“Charlie, is it just me, or is there something odd here? I feel so sad, like I was witness to a tragedy,” I asked quietly as Charlie recorded various data.

“Perhaps your empathic gift has kicked in, as I sense their sorrow as well. It’s difficult to say with certainty, but from what records Dr. Tenent found, and what I can perceive, we are witnessing the burial of a young couple and their unborn child. The woman must have been quite special. The tall red-haired woman with the umbrella is a witch; she radiates power. The others appear to be servants of hers or of the dead couple, I’m not sure. The woman was a remarkable person; in death she retains a significant magic charge as does her never-born child. Whatever killed her was stealthy and cunning during the approach while swift and sure in the attack. If she’d been given the slightest chance, her magic would have been almost undefeatable. From the residual magic in the bodies she must have been dealt the fatal blow in her sleep and was unable to fight back. The other casket must be the husband as his aura bears traces of hers and visa-versa.

“Strange, the late woman’s aura is not unlike yours, Joanie. Was she a mutant or a male before becoming a sorceress? Sorry, pure speculation on my part, but there is a rule of magic that a change in gender often boosts one's affinity to magic. There is the tradition of shamans taking on a womanly appearance to better communicate with the gods,” he added.

We watched the short, sad graveside service. It reminded me uncomfortably of the day we buried my older sister. A last prayer was offered then the caskets were lowered and the mourners threw clods of earth into the graves as a last mark of respect. The gloom and sadness of the occasion kept me from noticing how aroused I had become. I was still functional and an intermittent movement I was seeing in the wet grass grabbed my attention.
~~There it is again!~~
I’d seen glimpses of a small animal off and on during the service, but what was it?

~~Is it a cat, no. Maybe it’s a ferret? Not really. How about a long-haired dwarf otter? I’m grasping at straws, I don’t think there is such an animal; so what is it?~~

“What is that animal, Charlie?” I asked, my voice soft and sensual.

"The dead woman’s familiar is my guess,” he replied.

“You mean like a witch’s cat?” I asked in a voice that would make the Pope break his vows. I was a little wound up and knew it. Charlie remained calm and collected.

“Precisely, the animal is full of magic, more than I would expect. She seems familiar ... maybe?” he wondered but said no more.

The group broke up, and the tall red-head held out an ornate box and walked towards the woods. The odd animal followed her, loping along to keep up. The rays of the sun were fading as sunset approached. On the edge of the woods a well conceal stone contained a small tomb. The witch placed the carved box inside the stone, then she released a spell, Charlie carefully noting what he could of the object’s nature and of the spells used. The glyph-covered stone sealed itself and sunk into the ground, grass quickly covering the spot until it looked like it had never been disturbed. We noticed the witch look around, say a brief prayer then walk off to the west as the last rays of the fall sun broke though the rain heavy clouds

“Hold still, Joanie; the familiar has sensed us.”

The animal moved back-and-forth downwind from us, trying to pinpoint us by our scent I suspected. I was finding it hard to stay focused; I was far more aroused than I should have been, ~~ But why?~~

“Are we done, Charlie,” I whispered my voice husky. “I can’t hold on much longer, sorry, ooh!”

“He looked at me and smiled,” Not long, I’m finishing now,” he said.

The familiar was closing in on us. It must have *locked-in* on our position.

“Hurry!” I said on the edge of losing it.

The animal was close and could see us clearly.

~~ I think I’ve seen it on several of my previous trips to Whateley’s history. That animal looks strangely familiar... No, from what Charlie said that is a *familiar* that looks familiar to me... that is... no, it can’t be…~~

“Done. We can go now,” Mr. Lodgeman interrupted my thoughts.

I felt for that sensation, and the scene faded from view.

“Miki?” I gasped on our return, then other matters took center stage.

* * * *

May 03, 2007, again

I don’t recall how I got to that ladies room, though I believe Charlie when he says he carried me there. Apparently, I was awfully friendly during the short trip from the woods to the nearest suitable building.

“Charlie, I don’t remember much after we came back. I didn’t do or say anything I need to apologize for, do I?”

He declined to say how friendly, but I did notice him blush when I asked him. He was the perfect gentleman as always, and I soon was my normal self, more or less.

“Are you near your time, Joanie? You reacted far more than expected.”

“Sorry about the nymph-out... I wasn’t myself, or at least my in-control self. By the calendar I’m near ovulation, but nowhere near my peak sexual desire. Was it something or someone at the burial that affected me?”

“It is possible, Joanie. The witch and familiar were powerfully charged with magic and some of that could have affected you. The other attendants and the bodies had some magical charge as well That ornate carved box, the source of the magic Dr. Tenent was concerned about, was leaking small amounts of dangerous energies. The creature contained within was struggling against its wards. Manipulating pleasure and pain is a common tactic demonic spirits use to corrupt their minions. You were fine; my shielding of your aura should have disrupted any attempt to harm you. Given your side-effect, it wouldn’t take much stimulus of any kind to put you over the edge, and I am a ruggedly handsome man,” he said and grinned.

“Deres’ always somebody tryin' ta break inta de act!”

“Jimmy Durante? No way, Joanie, you don’t have the nose for it,” Mr. Lodgeman said.

“What if I substituted these?” I asked, innocently pushing up my breasts.

Charlie took a look then started to snicker. I think he was blushing again. He broke his gaze, eventually.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are,” he said and walked away quickly, though his gate seemed odd.

“Joanie, seducing a member of the board, have you gone nuts?” I muttered to myself.

* * * *

I spent the rest of the day in classes, or in laying out what I needed for the trip then cutting that down by two-thirds. I managed to stop by the farm and confirmed the cleanup was well underway. I would have to pick a design for the new farmhouse soon. I wished the workers well and took off for band practice and supper.

After an abbreviated practice, I begged off, claiming I was tired, which was true to an extent. The ‘research trip’ had taken a lot out of me, particularly the side effect. I didn’t want to admit it, but I remained more aroused than normal and needed to wind down. That was why I called Iowa, something I knew would not calm me at all. I had to hear *his* voice.

“Terrace Hill, how ...”

“Hi Tamara, it’s Joanie calling. Are Babs, Mel, or Eric around?”

“Ms. Brown, I’m surprised to hear from you — you usually call on Friday evenings -- but it’s a delight as always. The children are off with their friends, however Ms. Johnson is in,” the receptionist/security officer said.

“Tamara, I said call me Joanie, and I’m confident Babs doesn’t like you calling her Ms. Johnson,” I said.

“Sorry, it’s the way I was raised, Joanie, Just a moment, I’ll put you on hold while I get Ms. Jo… Babs on the line.”

There was a soft click, and Babs spoke.

”Great to hear from you, Joanie, is something wrong? I wouldn’t have expected you to call until Friday,” Babs asked. “And thank you for taking time to talk with me when I need it; it helps me more than I can say, Sis,” she said. I thought I heard a soft cry from her.

I had spoken with her a few times on the phone in recent weeks, often as part of my weekly calls to Eric.

“You, like, ’K’, Sis?’ I asked in Val speak.

“I’m fine, just it got to me for a moment -- how much you mean to us,” Babs said cheerfully.

“I won’t be calling Friday as I’ll be in Madison with the Smith twins and their mom. Then I fly on to Iowa. I miss you all, and we need to talk,” I said.

“Ooh, mysterious are we, Joanie?” Babs cooed back.

“It’s not all bad, but it is important, Babs,” I said laughing a little.

“I’m dying to know, please give me a hint at least, huh?”

“So this is where Mel got the kitten-in-the-rain/puppy dog eyes bit from and you’re doing it with your voice alone?”

“I was an only child, and,” her voice suddenly sounded much younger, “I had no mommy and please I need a new dress so bad, Daddy, -- sniff --,” Babs said like a pouting adolescent.

“That is scary; do you ever use it on Bob?”

“Rarely, Joanie, I save it for big things. It got him to accept my proposal.”

“Huh?”

“He wanted to wait, and no, it wasn’t like he wanted us to live together for six months or something like that. I knew what I wanted within hours of meeting Bob, and I wasn’t going to let him slip away. The fact we were doing *the deed* when I asked him to marry me was a low dirty trick, I admit. It took a few months to get the wedding set; even I couldn’t speed up that process. As Daddy’s little girl, I just had to have the best and there was no convincing him otherwise. We were married on the US Senate floor. I’m not kidding, Joanie.”

“That explains why Eric was born full size and *premature*. This revelation is most upsetting, Babs. You were manipulative, underhanded and took unfair advantage of someone while under they were under duress, namely sex. I’m impressed,” I said and giggled.

“What do we need to talk about?”

“It’s Eric and I. I love him dearly -- too much, I think. I’d like to talk things over with the family to see where we go from here,” I explained.

“I thought you two were infatuated, but it was in the kissing and hugging stage -- fun, but innocent,” she said.

“For the most part it is, but I’m concerned for the future. I want to see where we are and decide what’s next,” I said.

“Why are you so serious, Joanie?” she asked.

“Ask Eric about our Friday night calls for one,” I said.

“I’ve overheard parts of them, they are pretty tame,” Babs answered.

“I don’t know about Eric, but I get all wound up from them. Maybe it’s his voice, maybe it’s my imagination, but wow!”

“That’s fantasy; it’s not a big problem, if that’s all there is,” she replied.

“Ask Eric about Easter evening; what happened scared me,” I said.

“You woke up in each other arms after falling asleep on the couch, big deal. I saw you when I went to bed. You looked so contented together, like living Hummel figurines,” Babs replied.

“Did Eric tell you where our hands were when Pinky woke us? It was purely accidental, but looking back it worries me,” I explained.

“He said you both unconsciously put your hands on places you shouldn’t, unless your adults. Nothing came of it, and Eric and I did talk about it. If I couldn’t trust you two, you wouldn’t have stopped at that.”

“I’d still like to talk it over, maybe set formal guide rules? Knowing our limits could help. Things like no cuddling unless another is present seems obvious for one,” I suggested. I could hear noises in the background.

“That sounds sensible.” Her voice got serious, “Don’t think because I don’t seem outwardly concerned I’m not. I do check up on my children and their friends. I have to, I’m a mommy,” she said then snickered. “They’re back, I can hear Mel and Eric.”

“Mel, Eric, someone’s on the phone; do you want to talk?” Babs called out.

“Talk? Talk with who, Mom?” I heard Eric call out.

“You want to talk?” she asked me.

“Did you have to even ask me?” I countered.

“You’ll find out, my children,” Babs teased Eric and Mel. This conversation was getting confusing. I heard someone pick up an extension.

“Hello? Mom says you wanted to talk with my sister and me?” Eric asked. I felt my face flush.

“Thought I’d call you early as I’m out of town this weekend,’ I said.

“Joanie! Of course I’ll talk with you ... Okay, if I let Mel talk first, I’ll pick up in my room when she’s done. She was your friend first,” he said.

“Trying to act all noble are we, Eric?”

“Mel will pester me if I don’t. Ow! Stop that. I said you could talk first, Mel,” Eric said.

“Hi, Joanie. When can you come for a visit? I miss you, and so does Eric,”

“Wow, short sentences, Mel! Is that you or an impostor?” I asked and giggled.

“It’s me, Joanie. I’m trying to talk more mature. How can I be your best friend if I sound like a silly girl?”

“Mel, even at your run-on-sentence worst you were not silly. Enthusiastic, funny and sweet, yes, but you were never silly,” I said.

“Can you come some weekend? I know you plan to come in early June, but I have so much fun with you. Mom loves to talk with you and, well, Eric lives and breathes you; I’m not kidding,” Mel said.

~~All the more reason to get this romance under control.~~

“I’ll see if I can, Mel. May I talk with your brother? I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll go get him… Eric, it’s your turn,” she called out.

I heard a receiver being lifted off of its cradle.

“Joanie, Mel says we can talk now. Where are you going tomorrow? I’ll miss you,” Eric asked.

“A couple of my school friends need to see their mom; she’s in the hospital and I’m escorting them,” I said.

“Is their mom going to be okay?”

“She should be now. This to cheer them up,” I explained.

“That’s nice of you, Joanie, but then you have a habit of it,” he said.

“Eric, you get any more charming, and I’ll have to marry you,” I said and felt so elated.

How a boy, well a man-in-training, could affect me so thrills and frightens me.

~~I have to find a way to make this work.~~

I was shaken out of my introspection by a noise at the window.

“What are you doing peeping in my room, Miki?" I called out at a pair of eyes in the middle of twitching whiskers reflecting my room’s light back at me.

In the lights of campus, and the light from my room, the mongoose looked ethereal -- almost magical. The thought made me laugh. I went to the window to check on it, but it scampered off as I opened the sash. I saw Miki expertly negotiate a downspout and drop to the ground, where it looked up, chortled something and ran off.

“But then you are full of magic, furry one, aren’t you?” I asked rhetorically. I closed the window and picked up the phone.

“Joanie, are you okay? Who’s this Miki that was peering in your window?”

“She’s an itinerant familiar between gigs,” I joked.

“An itiner-what? You have me confused, Joanie.”

“Itinerant means someone who roams; a nomad, Eric. In this case it’s a familiar, like a witch’s cat. It seems to think I’m a sorceress,” I replied.

“A sorceress, why?” he sounded confused, but so was I.

“Because I maybe sorta might be one,” I said hesitantly.

“You’re a witch, Joanie?”

“Sorceress is more the feeling we're going for here. It means I might be able to manipulate magic with training. Somehow those weird warper fields around me trap passing magic and store it for a while. It’s not dangerous, and I don’t know if I can ever do anything useful with it, but it’s a possibility,” I explained.

“So long as you’re okay, I wouldn’t mind. Witches... I mean sorceresses get cool outfits to wear don’t they?” he asked.

“You mean the black cape, tight-fitting vest-jacket that shows off lots of breast, mini-skirt, mesh stockings and high-heeled boots? But I wear that sort of thing all the time, hon. Goodnight,” I said and hung up.

I am such a tease, and I need to slow down with the boy, but Ghod I don’t want to.~~

I slept feeling generally better, but concerned my feelings for Eric would lead to trouble for us both. I think my friends knew it, too, because George and Gracie spent most of the night curled up against me -- more so than usual.

* * * *

May 04, 2007

I was packed the night before and ready for the trip to Wisconsin and Iowa long before I left for my morning run. I’d gotten the go-ahead from Ms. Carson, and the charter jet was arranged for so all I had to do was tell the kids. We were at breakfast after our workout and a long cool shower; it was unusually warm for early May. After we’d all gotten our food and sat down to eat, I made an announcement.

“The band practice for this evening is canceled, as I’m going out of town for the weekend. You may wish to organize informal practices on your own. Pinky has my keys and can get you a practice room. Tom, Tina, pack enough clothes for a weekend. I have permission from Whateley for you to cut your afternoon classes. I’ve arranged for the teachers to get you notes and take-home assignments,” I said and snickered when I said take-home.

“Take-home?” Tina asked, and my grin threatened to sever my head. “You’re taking us to see Mom?” she squeaked, too excited to speak in a normal voice.

“We board a chartered jet this afternoon. You’ll be with your mother by supper time or sooner. We return Sunday afternoon, arriving just before dusk. I couldn’t tell you until today as it all depended on your mom’s condition and the weather,” I explained.

Tom and Tina ran to me, hugging and kissing me mercilessly. I could hardly breathe, but it felt good.

“Tom, could you get your hand off my breast? Not that I mind all that much, but Suzy might object?” I asked a bit breathless.

“I’m so sorry, Joanie,” Tom said. “It felt real nice though,” he whispered.

I had an inspiration and squeezed my own breast.

“Tom, you were right, that felt great,“ I said and snickered.

Suzy, along with the rest of my friends, walked over and gave Tina and Tom hugs and congratulations. When Suzy got to Tom, she looked about to slap his face, them she gave him a brief, but firm, kiss on the lips.

“You go cheer your mom up, Tom. I’m lucky I have both my parents and my... you know,” Suzy said and pointed at me. “You give her our love, and tell her we expect to see her here soon.”

“I’m not one of the Sabers, but I want to say I’m happy you’re both going to see your mom,” said Mystor in a calm and gentlemanly way.

Lonnie flashed him a 'thumbs up', and he smiled back at her. Lonnie must have coached him but he sounded sincere. Most of the gang left with me for the farm, while Tom and Tina started packing. I told them if they needed something bad, we had a little time to shop in Berlin for it. Pinky got the ride in the GT today. I chanced breaking the wards but did leave a treat behind to thank the mongoose who clearly wanted to be my friend.

* * * *

I had limited time, but did get a brief walk through of the holographic simulation. I agreed to the general plan, and left it for them to work out the details.

“Sorry to leave you in the lurch, but I have to go out of town for a few days. Any questions you have, Operations can answer or you can call me,” I said.

“You can always ask one of the Sabers or me. Joanie’s told us about her houses until our ears ache,” Pinky said and giggled.

“Who are the Sabers?” Tom Silva asked.

“It’s our band. Joanie keeps saying it’s our band not her band and she does try to be fair to all of us,” Pinky explained.

“A student band, that sound like fun,” said Mr. O'Connor

“It is, and Joanie insists we all get to sing and play lead,” Pinky explained.

“And you get class credit for it?” Mr. Silva asked.

“No, this is just for fun, but we get equal shares of any royalties. If we’re good, Joanie promised to let us record and release a CD. Our school is expensive, so any extra money we earn helps. That’s why we’re on her construction clean-up crew, Mr. Silva,” she finished.

“But why are you the Sabers?” Mr. Silva repeated.

“We’re named for Joanie’s kittens, they are soo cute!” Pinky answered.

“I love cats; can I meet them?” Mr. O’Conner asked.

“Maybe when I get back from my trip you can see my babies. George and Gracie are special, and I’m protective of them,” I added. “The farm projects are in part for their benefit. It’s not fair cooping them up in a crowded dorm room.”

“I’ve heard about that, I hear you’re living in a linen closet?” Mr. O’Conner asked.

“Hey, it’s a single and it used to be a linen closet. I have to go; I’ll see you all on Monday,” I said and walked to the GT.

I’d called the Ford dealership about the loan of a more practical vehicle the other day, and a couple of their employees were waiting by the GT.

“Bless you, you have a truck for me,” I said.

“The police package crew-cab is being built, but it will be a week or so until all the armor and custom items are installed. This is your loaner for the time being. Mr. Ford said to inform you this particular GT is at your disposal at anytime, though we’d like to display it when you don’t need it. It is one of a test run of the new model. There are only a dozen like it in the world,” a mechanic explained.

“A test model? It’s not a GT?” the number he’d mentioned went over my head.

“Not the old GT, no, this is the new model. It was for a touring display, not intended for sale -- built more to test the waters. Mr. Ford figures if we can advertise you drive one that will generate sufficient demand to justify full production. It will be an expensive car, very expensive. A thousand would be a big run for one year,” he explained.

“Um, how much is it worth? I mean, what would it sell for?” I asked.

“A quarter-million, add 75 thousand for the gravity-traction-boost or G-trak. That is the projected price for one if it goes into production. As a test model, its true cost is more like a few million, not counting development costs.”

That was the last thing I remembered until I woke in Pinky’s’ arms, my crew hanging around me.

“Take it easy, Joanie, you fainted -- again,” she said, looking concerned, but happy I was awake.

“You would too if you knew you’d been driving a 325 thousand dollar production prototype,” I said and Pinky wobbled. I turned and held her.

“You ladies okay?” Mr. O’Conner asked, as the other TOH people arrived at our sides.

“My friend just learned the loaner GT she’s been driving is a 325 thousand dollar production prototype,” Pinky said and grinned; I nodded my head.

---Thud---

“Mr. O’Conner?”

~~Good thing Pinky didn’t tell him it’s really worth a couple million.~~

* * * *

To be continued.