This part pushes things a little near the end, all I ask is that you read to the end the final part is very satisfying and should change some of the opinions people have messaged me about Glitch.

Cyberspace,
Nighttime, July 9th, 2007

While I waited nervously for a response to the several dozen emails I had sent an hour before, I got busy setting up a series of bank accounts around the world. The first and most important one was in Karedonia. What had started off as an idea to make Rachael and Mom happier, had expanded when I realized that some of the people holding Master, may be willing to be bought. And trying to get information on Master could require funds to pay for them as well. So I needed at least a few hundred thousand dollars as a bribe fund.

Trying to figure out the best way to transfer the money to Canada where a fourteen year old boy could use them, I made more bank accounts in the Cayman Islands, Switzerland, and twelve banks in Canada and the USA under different names. People would wonder where the money was coming from, as it was rerouted through so many different banks, but I'd only need it for a few months. They wouldn't arrest a kid before they had real evidence of wrong doing.

Checking the special email I'd made, which was based in Karedonia, I saw my first response. Dr. Dread, a high level Syndicate gadgeteer, was interested in the MIT robotics and cybernetic research. His offer was less than half what I would get if I held an auction, but I was in a rush. I sent an email agreeing to the deal, and the next hour was spent dickering over how to exchange the goods. Finally we agreed that I'd send one file, he'd send a percentage of the cash to my Karedonia account, rinse and repeat, increasing the data dump and the payout after we trusted each other.

By 5am, my empty bank account, was well into the eight digits range.

Prionator was next. His offer for all the information I'd gotten for wetware and brain research, was much fairer. We made the same deal, file for cash. Throughout the night, several more devisors and gadgeteers contacted me, they gave me a few hundred thousand or low millions for less important files. It all added up.

I then moved some of the money through my different bank accounts, until I had fifty thousand dollars in various bank accounts I could access easily in an emergency, in a few days the bank cards and credit cards would arrive at rented mail boxes throughout the Greater Toronto Area, providing me with even easier access in the event I had to get physical money on very short notice. My regular bank account had five thousand dollars for immediate use.

Going to a music site. I spent the last hour or two before I had to wake up dancing to some great Japanese pop music, in the skimpiest dress I could make. Once it was just me and Master again we could go to Karedonia and he'd live like a king with the money I'd made, and I could get the best programs and software money could buy.

**

Callahan Residence,
July 10th, 2007

Bobby was knocking on the door when I 'woke' up. Mom had gone off to work, so it was just me in the house. Answering the door in a pair of boxers, I smiled happily. Memories of having fun with Bobby came to the fore, he was Sam's best friend. So I wasn't expecting the punch which nearly broke my nose and knocked me down.

“OW! What was that for?!” I shouted, as I bled all over Mom's carpet.

“How could you do that to Becky?” he yelled at me, kicking me in the stomach.

That didn't hurt too much thanks to the thick layer of muscle on my torso, it helped that I also cut the connection between those nerves and my brain by half. “I told her the truth! Did you want me to lie?”

Another kick. “Yes! She was crying all night because you're a fucking asshole!”

“If you hit me again, I'm going to get angry.”

He kicked me in the head.

I didn't like fighting. I can truthfully say I was made for love not war, but he was starting to cause some real damage, I had a date with my girlfriend coming up, and you don't beat up your friend, you just don't. I increased my heart rate and breathing, flooding my blood with oxygen. Adrenaline surged, and endorphin's flooded my brain, making me forget the pain.

As Bobby went to kick me again, I grabbed his foot in one hand, rocking slightly. My fingers probably felt like a vice through the cheap runners. Standing up, his foot came with me, a quick jerk had him on his back, his head thumped down on the hard floor painfully. I winced in sympathy, but didn't let go.

While he was momentarily stunned, I knelt down, one knee on his stomach, the other one putting just a bit of pressure on his crotch. His foot was up near his head, effectively blocking one arm, and my other hand clamped down on his free arm. From the look on his face, it was very painful.

I gave him a minute to let his head clear. “Bobby, I didn't want to do this. You're my friend, but friends don't hit friends. So can I let you up and we can talk about things like friends, or at least without trying to hurt each other?”

“Let me up, asshole! You broke Becky's heart!”

“Well I'm sorry Sam had an accident, almost died, had a freaking coma for seven months and woke up with amnesia. Next time I'll try to do better.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced at my wording. Fortunately Bobby was too pissed off to notice my slip.

He rocked uselessly trying to free himself. Getting bored of the fight, and wanting to see if I could salvage my nose, I put some weight onto his balls, he gasped in pain. “I can hurt you a lot more, now are you going to stop fighting?”

Bobby spent another thirty seconds cursing and swearing, so I had to put more weight on his Mr. Happy, he smartened up and went limp. Getting up and backing away quickly, I waited to see what he would do. He spent the next minute cradling his balls, so I started the repair work on my nose and bruises. Finally he sat up.

“You love Becky, don't you?” I asked.

“Ya think!” Bobby snarled. “She chose you, and then didn't even dream of anyone else while you were out of it. Then you wake up and the next thing I see is you with that new girl I'd never even seen before, who isn't half as beautiful or funny as Becky. You're a fucking asshole!”

“Fine, I'm an asshole. I don't remember Becky except for some photos, and a few hazy memories. I'm sure she's a great girl, and I'll be happy to be her friend. But I don't know the girl anymore. So instead of being pissed, why not stop being a little pussy and go sweep her off her feet?” I told him. “I'll even give you some tips on how to pick up girls, since it seems I'm a whole lot better at it than you are. First rule, don't beat up the old boyfriend unless he's actually attacking her. Girls don't like violence that much. And if you have a girlfriend that does, you need a new girlfriend.”

It looked like he was about to jump at me. I smirked and spoke to him in a cold, quiet voice. “If you punch me again, I'm throwing you down the stairs. You know I can do it.”

Getting to his feet, he looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes. I wasn't scared, I'd fought monsters that wanted to kill me, and while I was a little upset that I couldn't make him happy, he'd punched me first. I was blameless. Cradling his balls, Bobby stepped out into the hallway. “Don't bother phoning any of us. You want your ugly, little bitch, she's the only thing you've got now.”

I don't remember moving, the few seconds between his words and the sound of his head slamming into the cheap plaster of the hallway was completely blank. But as the blood dripped from his lips and nose, his eyes watered coated in dust, my mouth was at his ear. “You can insult me, punch me, try to beat me. I don't care. I'll defend myself, but only enough to make you stop. But if you insult someone I care about, if you hurt them, if you look at them cross eyed, I will break every bone in your body and feed what's left to the sewer rats. If Rachael cries to me and says a boy was mean to her, I will hunt you down and feed you your balls. You do not, fuck, with my friends. Is. That. Clear?”

He sobbed in pain. I decided it meant that he understood. Holding him by his bloody shirt, I half dragged him to the elevator, when the doors opened and I threw him inside. “Remember this moment. If we do anything like this again, you're going to need an ambulance.”

Bobby sobbed and cringed, watching me with terrified eyes until the door slid shut. Shaking in rage, I noticed I'd left some bloody footprints on the floor. Getting back into my home, I carefully closed the door and then ran for the bathroom, my stomach heaving.

**

My nose was swollen and discoloured, and I had a nasty bruise on my cheek. It didn't hurt, but I wasn't exactly a pretty sight. Still I'd promised Rachael I'd take her shopping to deal with the short dresses that showed off her underwear. Wearing my nicest clothes, I made a quick run to an ATM to pull out money for a taxi.

Rachael met me at the steps to her apartment at twelve, she looked beautiful in the skirt and shirt I'd bought her. Of course the first thing she noticed was my bruised face. “Oh Sam, what happened?”

“It's nothing, an old friend was upset with me for some reason. How are you?” I asked, giving her a kiss.

“Scared,” she said, looking around. “I snuck out, so my parents wouldn't see me wearing this stuff, lets go quick.”

Taking her hand, we hurried into a waiting taxi that I'd called earlier. “Eaton's Center, please,” I told the driver.

Her eyes went wide. “We're going there? That's like forty minutes away, how can you afford that?”

“Don't worry about it, I have the cash.”

“I had to pay for your bus ride yesterday? What did you do rob a bank?”

After the crappy morning I had had, I decided to tell the truth. “A few months ago I stole half of MIT's database, focusing on robotics, cybernetics, wetware, and quite a bit of software and electronics, along with hundreds of other cutting edge medical research from around the world. Last night I sold them to about a dozen supervillains and criminal organizations, just so I could show you a really good time. I'm now a multimillionaire and no one can pin it to me.”

She punched my arm. “If you can't give me a real answer, just tell me! I won't see you on the evening news will I?”

“Not anytime soon. Ask me again next month,” I told her seriously. “So today I have a thousand dollars to spend on us.”

“You're a drug dealer aren't you?”

Kissing her again, I looked into her eyes. “I swear, the only time I've even seen drugs was when I was in the hospital. I don't even know what street drugs would look like. Now do you want to enjoy the day, or keep questioning me? Because I've already been in one fight today and I really don't want to get into another one.”

The driver, was watching me carefully from the rear view mirror, clearly unsure about what he should do. Rachael wasn't so uncertain. “You robbed someone, that's why you're beaten up. I don't believe this!”

Sighing in disgust, I waited a minute while Rachael acted shocked and upset, then turned to the driver. “Can you stop at that bank, and wait for us. Here's a twenty for your wait.”

He took the money, and pulled to a stop. “Come on Rachael, I'll prove to you I didn't beat anyone up.” Gently grabbing her arm, we went to an ATM and I opened up the transactions. “Look, 5,000 dollars was put in at six this morning, and it was sent by a bank, not a check or anything else. Then I took out a hundred just before meeting you. Who could I possibly beat up who would have that much money? And if I did why would I put it into one bank and then send it to another?”

She seemed to wilt at the frustration in my voice. “I'm sorry. I just I really didn't expect you to have money. And your joke put me on edge.”

Embracing her, I kissed the top of her head. “It's ok. It was a surprise. Now can I take you out for a nice lunch and treat you like a boyfriend should his girlfriend?”

Rachael nodded, following me silently to the taxi.

“So what would you like to eat?” I asked.

“You pick,” she almost whispered.

Taking a moment to think. “You like Chinese food, so we'll go to a nice Chinese restaurant. And then you pick, a movie or clothes shopping?”

“What movies are playing?”

“There's the new Justice Brigade movie, I heard that one's good. There's the romantic comedy License to Wed, I'd like to see that one. And the cartoon Ratatoullie.” I couldn't think of any others either of us would really like, my fingers were crossed hoping she'd pick the comedy.

She eyed me suspiciously. “You really want to see a License to Wed?”

“Yeah, I love romance movies.”

Much to my relief she gave me a big smile. “Fine, let's watch that one.”

“Yes!” I shouted, jabbing my fist into the air. For some reason she seemed surprised by my reaction.

Letting Sam's memories take over, I started telling her about what downtown Toronto was like. Her parents were so busy working, and with her not knowing her way around the large city she'd never had a chance to leave Mississauga. From what she had told me her old city was a small one with less than a hundred thousand people, and not a single high rise or large mall to be had. Finally being in the heart of a city with eight million people was a shock for her. The looks of mistrust and uncertainty disappeared as she looked in wonder at the crowds and buildings.

We had a great meal of sweet and sour pork, black bean sauce chicken, fried jalapenos, and some sweet, flaky, dim sum for desert. Sam had never eaten like this, and most of the food left Rachael staring in wonder as well. But we loved it all, even the spicy jalapenos.

As we headed for the theater, Rachael stopped to admire a brilliant blue dress in the window. “You like it?” I asked.

“It's beautiful.”

Taking her by the hand, “Let's get it.”

She refused to budge. “No way! It's way too expensive.”

Picking her up in my arms, we walked into the store. Not putting her down, I walked straight over to a sales lady. “Excuse me. That blue dress in the window, do you have it in her size?”

The woman looked down her nose at us, “I don't think so.”

Taking out my wallet, I handed her my debit card. “Than pick the smallest one you have, and tailor it to fit her.”

She looked at the card with a sneer, as if it was dirty. “We sell clothes for adults, not children. If your mommy wants a dress, then please come back.”

Pursing my lips, I took a deep breath and left still holding a much subdued Rachael. “You remember what I said about having a thousand dollars to spend on you today?” I asked her. “Fuck it. We're breaking the bank.”

“What?!”

**

The next five hours were a whirlwind of shopping. Every store that had clothes for teens saw us enter pick out the coolest clothes and leave, barely stopping to rest and admire our booty before we hit the next place. I got designer jeans, expensive dress shirts, and even a fancy suit. Rachael was left in a daze from trying on more skirts, dresses, blouses, jackets, pants, shoes, purses and jewelry, then she'd seen in her life. I even managed to get her into a Victoria Secrets to get some nice lingerie, she insisted on going alone however.

As we headed for supper, we passed by the store with the snotty sales woman. Walking in, loaded down with bags, wearing clothes that where worth several hundred dollars, we looked at the blue dress and waited for the saleswoman to come running over.

“Hello there, are you interested in that dress?” she asked.

“No, I don't think so,” Rachael said, looking at it critically, with her chin in her hand.

“Yeah,” I agreed, giving it my best sneer. “It's so boring, much better for our mommy's. They like old, drab, things.”

Kissing each other on the lips we left with a laugh. Supper was waiting.

**

We got back home, and my wallet gave a sad sigh as I took out the last of my money to pay for the taxi. Since Rachael's parents weren't home, I helped her take the bags of clothes upstairs. Sitting down on the old couch with a tired groan, she looked at the items I'd bought her with disbelief.

“What am I going to tell my parents?” she asked.

What was her obsession with what her parents would think? These were gifts, gifts were good. “Just tell them your boyfriend bought them. What's the problem?”

“Who buys a teenager stuff like this?”

Thumping my chest, “I do.” That made her glow, hugging me and pressing her body into mine. Deciding this was as good a time as any, since we were in private like Mom had told me was important, I began kissing her.

She returned the kiss happily. The kissing got hotter, our tongues met, and our hands ran over our bodies. Her small hands never strayed from my arms and back, mine explored her body, making her shiver, my hand went under her shirt, touching her new bra. Our breathing became faster. Picking her up, still kissing her, my hand firmly on her butt to hold her up, we walked to her bedroom.

Placing her on her bed, I pressed my chest and crotch against her, a little maneuvering had her legs spread, her short skirt riding up revealing her black lacy underwear. A second later her top was up under her arms, revealing her body. My hands stopped rubbing against her young body long enough to unzip my pants and pull them down.

Rachael tensed up, a look of fear in her eyes.

“Whats wrong?” I whispered, bringing my hand up to her breast.

Biting her lip, she shook her head jerkily. “N-n-nothing. K-keep going.”

Kissing her neck, my hand went to her panties, sliding under the silky fabric. She squeaked, reaching for my arm before stopping herself, my fingers kept moving, and her hand slowly went to my back. Not sure what was happening, my mouth went to breast, pushing the thin piece of cloth out of the way. I heard her heart beating a mile a minute.

Her hands stopped moving, clutching me closely. After kissing and fondling her some more, I sat up, lifting her legs, and pulling the underwear off. Then I stopped.

She was as white as a ghost, biting her lip in what looked like fear with her eyes clenched.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I-I don't know. Y-y-yo-you've been so nice t-to me,” she cried. “I should, I should d-do th-is for you. I-I wo-n't st-stop you. Please, I d-don't mind.”

Spreading her legs, Rachael clutched her chest, turning her head away from me.

Leaning back, I closed her legs, and laid down beside her. I didn't know what was wrong with her, sex was fun, but she was afraid. Laying down beside her, I pulled her towards me. “You don't want to have sex?”

“Yes I do. Really,” she insisted, but she was shaking her head as she said it. “I'm sorry! I know you want to. And, and I don't know!”

My penis hurt. I forced the muscles to relax, making it limp. “Sex is suppose to be fun. You're not having fun. So we won't have sex.”

“R-really?”

Did she really think I'd force her? “Yes. I don't want to hurt you. But why don't you want to have sex?”

“I thought I'd be older. And it would be really, really special. I like you a lot, but I've only known you three days. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. If you want to take back all the clothes and stuff I understand,” she gushed.

She was so confusing. “You don't take back gifts, that's just being mean. Now stop being stupid.”

Before she could say anything else, I started kissing her again. Slowly she eased up, and we spent the next little while kissing and holding each other. Eventually I headed home. I wasn't sure if the day had been good or not. Who didn't like sex? Was she just strange, or was her reaction more common then I thought?

I'd have to experiment a little to find out.

At least when I left, she was happy again.