Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

Joanie tells the bittersweet news about their parents to the Smith twins. A sleep-over is held, pizza ordered and a card cheat uncovered. The farm rehab progress smoothly at first. Joanie gets a surprise invitation to perform and great news from the Senator. And her farm house blows up. And you thought there would be typos in the synopsis, ha!

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 the first 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. 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, trademark 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, 2005-2007.

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
Additional Jade and Jinn material by Babs Yerunkle
Infinite patience by Itinerant
Pronoun policing by Janet Nolan

Chapter 1, Welcome to Adulthood 2, This Old Farm House -- A Blast From The Past 1, Congratulations, It’s A Girl 3, You BET Your Life 1

Whateley Academy Dunwich, April 30-May01, 2007

April 30, 2007, 3:30PM

Pinky and I fed George and Gracie, cleaned their box, and did the usual stuff you do for a pair of vicious predators -- flipped them on their backs and trimmed their claws; put their collars back on after brushing them and breaking out the oversize ballistic-nylon catnip mice, one per carnivore, no fighting. A cat-fancier friend of Cindy's, who was in the same costuming class, had made some up a few days ago in exchange for a chance to pet them. They -- the catnip mice -- showed signs of, um, wear.

~~Uh, half-shredded already, I’d better see if she can make these in stainless-steel mesh, like those shark-proof suits. Nah, that’s too harsh on their teeth; maybe rawhide backed with Kevlar?~~

We left for the King Annex and the Saber’s practice.

* * * *

I’d called Tina and Chris Anderson, and they got hold of Lonnie and Cheryl for me, so they all knew about the Smith’s parents. I also made a quick call to Madison for the latest update; Mrs. Smith’s condition had not changed, but it was no worse. The NC supers were taking guarding Suzy’s close family as a debt of honor. GG informed them that ‘Joanie’ had saved the life of their daughter, one of the Wisconsin Ultra-X-Amine victims, and was a close friend to all the victims. My cousin Christine was right; my reputation was not just a Midwest thing. I was warned by GG that more autographed copies of that certain magazine would be needed. I may need to invest in an autopen at this rate.

I’d managed to catch Jenny, as Pinky and I left Poe, and she promised to warn Cindy prior to the band practice. She’d offered to help Cindy move a marimba from the main concert hall to our practice room, which was not exactly a one-woman job. Frankly, I think Jenny has her eye on Cindy -- lucky Cindy. I’d hoped to intercept Suzy earlier, but she had raced from her last class to a rendezvous with Tom to swap spit; it had to be, given what they were busy doing when Pinky and I arrived at the annex.

“How long have you two been at this?” I asked.

“It’s four, now, so about an hour. It was fun!” admitted Suzy.

~~ They look so cute together. I have got to talk with those two. ~~

Eric and I are above such lewd public displays of affection, preferring to hug, snuggle, and then subconsciously ...... ah-hum each other to the brink of intercourse, as nearly happened on Easter Sunday morning. On second thought, dear d/j/w, Tom and Tina are doing okay; it’s Eric and I that need the talking to. For a girl who said to take things slow; I’m moving awful fast.

~~A full hour of kissing unsupervised, their teen hormones surging, and they didn’t lose control -- amazing. An hour of ‘that’ with Eric, and I’d be buying one of those home test devices in a few days and praying it’s not ‘positive’. That’s assuming I wasn’t in jail on charges of statutory rape. Maybe I’m not ready for the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic, but if I don’t snag him now some other cutie will capture his heart and I’ll just die!

~~... Damn! Am I one of those girls who gives it up to her boyfriend to deliberately get pregnant and thus ‘he has to marry me’? I have got to think this over. Joanie, he’s a kid, he’s still in the freakn’ eighth grade. That’s eight more grades until he’s though collage, four until he’s fair-game for my *feminine wiles.* As to my ‘kissing’ cousin and Tom, with all those endorphins in their systems at least they’ll be cushioned for the bad news. I hope Tina has something to fall back on … I mean, something to comfort her. Just great, *that* got me thinking about sex; I AM obsessed with it. At least I’m in a better mood to tell Tom and Tina the bad news.~~

Everyone took their seat and got their instruments ready. I plugged in my guitar and powered up my amp to make things look normal. I received a telepathic message from Tina and Chris Anderson that they were in the hallway outside the practice room waiting as backup.

“Thanks for being here today. Before we start, I have an announcement,” I said placing my guitar in a stand as my co-conspirators moved into position.

I turned to face the Smiths, Pinky moved next to Tina, and Lonnie moved in next to Tom and Suzy. Cheryl, Jenny, and Cindy positioned themselves to intercept and tackle Tom and Tina if needed. Tina and Chris Anderson were the deep safeties. Maybe I should diagram this play? I apologize for the humor dear d/j/w but the next few minutes were not pleasant.

“Tom, Tina, my friend Janice from Madison -- Glacier Girl: tall, Nordic, breasts like Lara Croft after implants?” I said and giggled nervously. “She called today with word of your parents,” I said, forcing myself to stay professional.

~~That sounded stupid, but I hate telling them this. ~~

“They found Mom and Dad?! Can we talk to them? This is great!” Tom and Tina yelled out alternately.

Tom’s face dropped into a frown when he saw the expression on my face. Suzy hugged him tight and Pinky grabbed Tina’s hands in both of hers. I could barely stand to look them in the eyes. Tina stared to sniffle.

“The kidnappers beat your mom savagely, trying to make her say where you’d been taken. She’s in the Mutant Wing at the University Hospital in Madison now. Your mom’s under the care of the same doctors that saved you. It’s not that she’s a mutant; it’s for her safety. She’s in poor shape, we won’t know for a while if....” I left it at that.

“How’s Dad?!” Tina demanded loudly.

Her expression was wild; she was near panic, and her face was streaked with tears. Pinky shifted to hug her tight while the rest of the crew in the room moved in closer to comfort the twins. Tom was fighting back tears; Suzy held on tight — this could as easily have happened to her parents. Tina Anderson sent me a telepathic message to continue, and that they had our backs.

“They beat your father far worse; he died three days after the kidnapping. I’m so very sorry,” I said, not noticing I was crying.

Tom’s reaction surprised me, though maybe it shouldn't have; he is a tough kid. He smiled at me despite his tears while he hugged Suzy as if she was a lifesaving ring and he was a drowning man.

“How is Mom? Can she talk to us? Can we speak with her? Did the ... bastards leave any clues behind, Joanie?” he asked in a remarkable display of self-control.

I could see he dearly wanted to cry in outrage, but he willed himself to be brave for his sister and Suzy. I’d liked him from the start, but my opinion of him as a man rose greatly this day.

~~You’re a good man, Tom, being strong for your sister and girl friend when your soul wants to scream at the heavens. You’re far more mature than I thought.~~

“I approve of ‘bastards’ in this case, Tom,” I said, and giggled nervously.

~~Ghods, I’m more like my dad than I thought -- laughing at an inappropriate moment. I think I understand you now, Dad. Forgive me.~~

“GG wasn’t sure, to answer your questions, Tom. Your mom has a broken jaw they will have to set surgically once she’s stabilized. She has many other injuries; they may not be able to fully treat them all at once. It will take time before they will know when she can have visitors. As to the investigation, I don’t know what evidence they found. I wish I knew more but I don’t.”

I didn’t like lying, but it was a white lie; I had every confidence in my friends’ ability to heal Mrs. Smith -- I hoped.

“Your mom’s doctor is Dr. Sara, the same doctor you and I had. There is no one better in the whole state. She’s an empath, and one of her nurses is an empath/telepath. That nurse ‘talked‘ with your mom; it was difficult as she’s not fully conscious. Your mom knows her husband is dead, but she knows you’re both safe with me at Whateley. They beat your parents to make them tell where you’d been taken, but they never cracked. They must have loved you very much.”

I paused to compose myself. Tina was weeping, but watching me intently, Tom kept glancing from his sister, to Suzy, to me.

“The hospital is doing everything possible to save your mother; Gin has called in several magic experts to see if they can help. GG knows to call me any time, day or night, with news of your mother. I promise you will know minutes after I do, even if I have to run fresh from the showers wrapped in only a bath towel to do it.”

“Joanie, why would you have a phone in the shower?” asked Cindy as she held in a giggle.

That got a small snicker from Tina. I smiled despite my sadness; I needed to boost their confidence, not undermine it. They seemed to be settling down when Suzy got this look of fear and hugged Tom hard.

“What of my family; are they safe, Joanie?” she cried out, as Tom hugged her back.

“GG told me the FBI is watching your parents and close family 24/7. The Ultra-X-Amine homolog case is a top priority; it’s considered a threat to national security. Some North Carolina supers are watching your family, too; they are friends of our MSG pals. MSG and the Greater Milwaukee Mutant Group are keeping a close eye on your relatives in Milwaukee and my family, too -- they won’t fail us,” I said. “The NC supers know your parents are close friends of a ‘nationally prominent super’,” I pointed at myself, “so they consider them ‘family’. No one threatens family,” I emphasized.

~~Especially MY family, Suzy. ~~

“Thank God, Joanie. I was so worried. You will tell Tom and Tina soon as you know anything more?” Suzy asked excited but relieved. I walked over, gave all three of them hugs and they calmed down.

“What we need tonight is cheering up, and I am the head cheerleader,” I said.

I waved my arms in the air and jumped up and down. Not much of a routine, but I never was a cheerleader -- so there! At least I was perky and bouncy, very bouncy, with my figure. Tom seemed to enjoy it, for a while.

-- THWACK! -- Suzy’s hands slammed together in front of Tom’s face like a cymbal crash.

“Tom, if you are serious about being my boyfriend, ‘that’ had better not happen again. I’m not a jealous girl by nature, but I’m not some cheap slut to be ignored and insulted, got it, Mister?” Suzy said VERY deliberately.

~~SUZY!? Where did this spitfire come from? ~~

“But, what did I do wrong?” Tom asked, clueless.

~~BIG mistake, you’re on your own now, buddy. ~~

“If ‘you’ don’t know, then I’m not speaking to ‘you’, PIG!” she growled sardonically. Tom looked heartbroken, even scared. “And as for you, Ms. Joanie Brown…” she said, paused and moved next to me.

“Yes?”

“Can you show me that move because it, like, totally rocked!” she said, laughed and gave me a flamboyant hug. The rest of the gang looked at Tom and broke up.

“Do you want to have our band practice today, or should we have a sleep-over in Tom and Tina’s room? I figure everyone will want to talk tonight or just hang out,” I said and smiled. “You’re not in this alone.”

* * * *

We voted to skip the practice for the night -- our hearts weren’t in it -- so we packed up, and walked to Hawthorne. Chris and Tina Anderson explained to the house-mother what was going on while I got Security on my special cell phone and filled them in on the details. We got comfortable in Tom and Tina's room and ordered pizza delivery. We decided to skip the cafeteria this night as we weren’t hungry at first, and it seemed the right thing to do.

“Quiet, now, I’m on the phone. Okay, that’s two large cheese,” I said.

“Three,” one of my friends called back.

“Sorry, three large cheese, two large cheese and pepperoni, one large deluxe deep-dish, two cheese and sausage with bell pepper, a large Hawaiian pizza and one large heartburn special with extra onions, garlic, hot peppers and anchovies... Yes, every one is a large... We’re growing girls, that’s why! -- ‘I’m sorry, Tom’, I mouthed -- ... We want eight cold two litter sodas, that’s four Pepsi and four root beers.... What? ... Sorry, no Pepsi, Coke,” I said in a vaguely Slavic/Middle-eastern accent.

They all nodded, they’d learned not to question my ‘asides’ too often for fear I’d do more.

“Yeah, cold Coke and root beer will do, send some cups and napkins, please. Oh, add a half-dozen big bags of tortilla and potato chips and assorted dips... Perfect... That will be HOW much!?... You’re charging for delivery because it’s too small an order? Ten large pizzas plus extras is a small...? They ordered what?... I guess this is ‘small’ by that standard; we’re feeling a little ‘down’ tonight... Can’t we get some sort of discount, please?”

<~~Like ‘I’ need the money, but it’s the principle of the thing.~~

“…Yes, go on... Are you ef’n crazy? You do know who I am?... Yes, I’m her... You’ll do what if I?... You have got to be kidding!... For ‘that’, this had better be at cost and on time... If I do what, it’s free? I’ll say this only once: I’m also a Whateley Security officer; do you want to rephrase that?... Better,” I hung-up and snickered.

~~I sounded like that old Saturday Night Live restaurant skit or an old Bob Newhart comedy routine. Why does the Pizza Pit have only Coke products while the menu listed Pepsi? Come to think of it the school cafeteria changed over to Coke recently, too. They have the low bid? ~~

They’d all crowded around me as I ordered; now they scrambled for the best seats. Several appropriated the beds, then the couch, all the chairs were quickly occupied followed by much of the modest floor space -- with nine of us we were crowded, but cozy.

“Okay, what do we want to do? I’m up for anything... legal” -- that got some snickers -- “except strip-poker, that’s out. With only one guy it hardly seems fair,” I argued.

The pizza came in under 25 minutes. The pies were hot, tasty and generously topped, the soda and dips were cold, the chips were unbroken and they included knives, plates and lots of napkins -- even free breadsticks and dipping sauce.

I, um -- I was scandalously brazen -- I hugged the delivery boys. You thought I was gonna boob flash them or strip, didn’t you? I drew the line on anything even approaching French kissing -- who knew where’d they’d been, or if they were 18 and over? For the tip, I kissed them each on the cheek -- like their grandmother. They left woefully underpaid and blissfully happy.

“The things I do to save a buck!” I said.

I closed the door and giggled as my friends laughed.

~~Good, they’re laughing. If it takes Tom and Tina’s minds of their troubles, it’s worth it. ~~

We ate and talked for several hours. Tom and Tina cried a few times, but we soon had them smiling again. It wasn’t always easy, though.

We were talking casually after we ate, shooting the breeze. We started talking about what we would do after the end of the spring term.

“I’m going back home and work in my parents' accounting firm; they always need help with the files,“ Cheryl said.

“My parents are taking me to Disney World to meet with my cousins,” Cindy spoke.

“I’m staying here and working on Joanie’s construction projects as long as I can. I was raised by a single mom, and money is tight this year,” Jenny said.

“I’m stuck here or with Joanie, if she’ll have me,“ joked Pinky, I smiled.

If I’d been paying closer attention, I would have made more of Tom and Tina’s eerie silence -- it would have saved us some grief.

“Until this Ultra-X-Amine homolog trouble changed my life, I was supposed to go to Paris with my old French class and later to Wisconsin with my parents to visit Mom’s side of the family. I really miss them,” Suzy said wistfully.

“I was lucky my dad could come and...” I began, then stopped as Tina collapsed on the bed sobbing, followed moments later by her brother.

“What’s wrong?” Suzy asked and tried to hug Tom; he pushed her away.

~~Oh shit! Stupid, stupid, stupid Joanie! ~~ I recovered fast.

“That’s okay; there is nothing wrong in grieving for your dad, Tom. That goes for you, too, Tina, dear. We forgot, no, I forgot. Please forgive me for not realizing it in time. Go ahead and let it out; it doesn’t make you any less of a man or woman to cry when you lose a loved one. I cry for my mother sometimes, and even my long dead cat, Charlie,” I said in a soothing tone as I gently held Tina. I wept too: for mom, my sister, my grandparents, aunts and uncles and even Charlie, my cat.

“Oh, Tom!” Suzy cried, then she hugged him so firmly he couldn’t push her away. After a while, he put an arm around her.

* * * *

We all let a lot of pent-up stress out that evening; I lost track of who hugged who or provided a shoulder to cry on. More than one individual helped me out; I remember that much.

It took a while -- most of an hour -- but the long cry seemed to ease their pain. I know I felt better. We started a game of cards to take our minds of things for a while; it evolved or degenerated -- take your pick -- into strip-poker. I guess I inspired them through reverse psychology. It did keep our minds off the bad news, and we did set a loss limit of no total nudity.

After playing for a couple hours, I noticed a disturbing trend.

“Pinky, I think you are cheating,” I accused her, but grinned happily.

“Why do you say that?” she asked innocently as she absentmindedly rubbed one of her bare feet.

“Let’s see: I’m down to a bra, panties and half-slip; Tom is in his briefs T-shirt and socks; Jenny and Suzy are both out of the game as they have only their bras and panties on. Shall I go on, Ms. Empath? Skill and luck have their role in card games, but be real,” I explained.

“Busted, Pinky!” Cheryl said -- looking cute in her tiger-striped lingerie and Hello Kitty socks.

“I think Joanie is the ‘busted’ one here,” Tom said and pointed to my chest.

That got him a playful slap up the back of the head by Suzy. That also got giggles from me, and I shocked myself with a thought.

~~Strange, I’m in intimate contact with all these attractive, half-naked teens and I’m not aroused? Wow! I finally have some control -- about time too. ~~

“Tom, stop ogling my aunt,” Suzy admonished. “That’s not polite, and I have plenty to keep you interested,” she said, winked and giggled while pointing at her own curvaceous body.

To put it bluntly, Suzy is stacked. Not as amply as I am, but for a still growing girl she had nothing to be ashamed of. We played one last hand; I had three of a kind.

“I call, Joanie,” said Pinky.

“Three jacks, read 'em and weep,” I said in a Western saloon drawl.

Pinky laid down a full house.

“Pay up,” she grinned.

“Fine,” I said and began unhooking my bra.

Pinky laughed so hard she got dizzy.

“Don’t you want to see them? A bet is a bet,” I said and pointed at my now loose bra.

I was barely decent, but my silly antics kept the Smiths cheerful.

“I’ll accept a hug instead,” Pinky said.

She hugged me and re-hooked my bra tenderly. We all got dressed and decided what to do next.

“It’s getting late; it's almost eleven. Do you want us to stay?” I asked Tom and Tina. I preferred they thought our watchdogs were their own idea.

“It’s crowded, but fun; please stay. I don’t want to be alone tonight, and Tina doesn’t either,” said Tom smiling through his pain.

“I was so scared earlier; it helped having my friends with me. Stay,” said Tina and she sniffled.

“It’s official! Sleepover, gang,” I declared.

* * * * *

This was not going to be as easy as we thought. No matter how we lay down -- even with two to a bed -- there wasn’t enough room ...

“...unless we start stacking bodies, Joanie,” Chris Anderson observed.

“That could be fun depending on who’s stacked on who or whom,” I said and giggled; I was in a good mood.

“Joanie, are you blushing?” asked Tina Anderson. She whispered in my ear, “Hon, your ‘headlights’ are erect. Are you getting aroused?”

~~Damn! I knew it was too good to last. ~~

Pinky must have overheard, because she started snickering and blushed -- cute really.

“I’m 17, I am. I cain’t help I’m a healthy littl’ girl, Gov’ner,” I said in a bad Cockney. The Andersons broke up, but everyone else stared.

“I’m heading to my own room; no one appreciates my Eliza,” I said and pouted. “At least my smilodons love me.”

“And they won’t inflame that pesky libido of yours,” Tina Anderson smirked.

I smirked back with a vengeance.

“Oooh, I get to play with my....“ I cooed, but was interrupted.

“Don’t you dare, Joanie! You’ll warp our innocent minds with your filth,” Pinky snapped and laughed.

“Awh, I can’t even say the punch-lines to my groaners? That’s not fair,” I pouted again while several girls high-fived Pinky.

“You’d better go, Joanie. If you stay, we’ll never get to sleep,” Cheryl said.

We voted, and the kids would all stay; we ‘adults’ -- the Andersons and I -- would go back to our own accommodations. That left the four girls -- Jenny, Cheryl and Cindy, plus Suzy -- to watch the Smiths.

“I’ll go; I know when I’m not wanted,” I sniffled. “If you need me for anything, call, okay?”

I knew the Smiths had their Whateley Security supplied emergency devices and I’d recently bought Pinky a cell phone so we could stay in touch as the farm housing project picked up speed.

The Andersons and I said our goodbyes and left.

* * * *

“I owe you for this, girls,” I said.

“Our pleasure, we didn’t have to do much. We monitored the twins and were prepared to ‘send’ some gentle ‘calming’ thoughts a couple times, but didn’t. The presence of their friends did the trick; good job, Joanie. And we wouldn’t have missed that poker game for anything,” Tina said, grinning hungrily.

“Can’t you wait until Playboy comes out? You can ogle me all you want, then,” I complained.

“But it’s so much better in person. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us tonight? We could carry on from where the poker game left off,” suggested Chris.

“No, I’m an old-fashioned girl, I guess. I’m no prude -- things were hot and heavy between some of the gals at MSG and me -- but I owe it to myself to try and be faithful to Eric. I’ve found someone special who will only become more so over time. I won’t risk it, even for such fine women as you,” I declared.

“Understood, but that doesn’t mean we won’t keep trying, dear,” Tina said.

She embraced me, kissing me with her tongue while Chris deftly stroked various areas on my body.

“No, I... please... Oooohophf!” I moaned exuberantly, though it was muffled by Tina’s talented mouth -- I could hardly stand after that.

“That’s a taste of what you’re missing out on, Joanie. Goodnight,” Chris said as they got on her Kawasaki and road off.

“Damn, those girls are hot. You’d better be worth it, Eric,” I said out loud to no one.

* * * *

I tended to my smilodons, stripped to my undies, and threw myself onto my bed. Dreams did not come quickly, as I spent much of the first hour bursting into tears sporadically -- the day’s events had finally caught up with me.

I woke to the annoying sound of my cell-phone. GG was true to her word and called me with important news regarding Mrs. Smith. I was not grateful, at first.

“Joanie. Wha’ the fuck d’yah want?... It’s three-thirteen in the morning, moron, and I’m tired and cranky -- what gives, Einstein?”

On hind-sight, that was not a polite way to answer the phone. GG was diplomatic.

“My aren’t we little Miss Sunshine, Joanie? You said to call if there was important news about Mrs. Smith,” GG said cheerfully.

“Oh Ghod, GG, I’m sorry. You said Mrs. Smith -- good news, please?” I pleaded, shocked wide awake.

“Donna -- that’s her name -- is responding better than expected physically. She regained full consciousness for most of an hour before she had to rest. Dr. Sara thinks Carrie’s empathic conversations have inspired her to fight for her life and her children. She wouldn’t have made it this far, if she wasn’t a stubborn girl. Mentally she’s distressed, but she's showing resilience. We’re keeping an empath on hand round-the-clock to assist her. She’s been upgraded from critical to guarded,” GG said.

“Can she communicate normally?” I asked.

“She can squeeze your hand with her one good hand -- one for yes, two for no, three for I’m not sure/I don’t understand -- and she understands when the nurses talk to her. Until her jaw is fixed, it’s intensely painful for her to try and speak. Carrie confirmed that Donna knows her kids are safe at Whateley, and that she’s a widow,” GG explained.

“How’s her condition?” I asked.

“They think her vision is okay, but she suffered abrasions to her corneas. One has an infection, but the infection is responding to the latest genetically engineered antibiotics. Once she’s stable enough, they will operate on her jaw, pelvis and other broken bones. After that it’s a matter of clearing up any infections and rehab. How soon she can have visitors is unknown; she’s not pretty to look at for now,” GG said, and sighed.

“You see she gets the best, and don’t let the insurance people give you fits. Anything they won’t cover, I will -- no limit. If they give you a hard time, call me,” I said forcefully.

“We have, that is, Senator Joe called Mrs. Smith’s insurance carriers; all her bills will be covered. We have a direct line to the CEO of her primary insurer; Senator Joe scared them shitless,” GG said with a hint of a chuckle.

~~The Senator’s involved, I wonder why? … Duh, Dr Sara spoke with him — clever girl.~~

“Keep me informed; Tom and Tina are desperate for news of their mom. Can I get some sleep now, Brunhilde?”

“Bad jokes? You are feeling better about this, Barbie. Say hi to Skipper and Ken,” GG said, then hung-up.

I considered waiting until a decent hour, say 7AM, but I’d promised, and if I lost sleep, so should the others.

“Timeout to Security ... Leaving Poe for Hawthorne -- the Smith’s room, ETA 15 minutes, on personal business, Timeout, over,” I radioed.

“Acknowledged, Timeout, Dispatch out.”

I slipped on my runner’s warm-up suit, and my trainers, and jogged over to Hawthorne. My set of keys and codes could get me into most places on campus, so I used the side entrance and stairs nearest their room rather than the main entrance. I quietly walked to their room and knocked; a bleary-eyed Cheryl opened the door carefully. She looked worried until I smiled. I entered, and she closed the door behind me.

“Joa ... nie,: Cheryl yawned ,”what’d you wan’,” she said, yawning again.

“I have good news. Why are you up, Cheryl?”

“I took guard duty and slept in front of the door. Remember I’m a night person, not a morn’ person,” Cheryl said and yawned, clearly exhausted.

“I owe you an automatic coffee maker for this, Cheryl.” I heard the others stirring.

“Someth’n wrong?” murmured Pinky. I made sure they were all awake.

“I’ve good news. GG called from Madison, and they upgraded Mrs. Smith from critical to guarded. My old Dr. Sara thinks she’ll recover -- though it will take months,” I said in a soft, measured voice.

”Mom’s okay?” Tina gasped.

“GG wouldn’t lie to me; she wants to get in my panties. She’s a great gal, oversexed, but a good person."

“Mom’s getting better?” Tom asked nervously; Suzy held his hands while resting her head on his shoulder.

“She’s regained consciousness -- they plan to do some surgeries to fix her jaw, hip and limbs. She’s still in bad shape, but she’s much stronger. Maybe in a few days you can talk to her, though speech won’t be easy for her for some time. I can pass messages on to her if you like. If you oversleep, don’t worry. I’ll clear it with your instructors; this was a family emergency after all.”

They all grinned despite their sleepiness.

“Don’t use it as an excuse to skip classes deliberately; I’m not in that good of a mood.”

I gave everyone hugs, then skipped back to Poe; it felt so good to be alive.

* * * *

May 01, 2007

I woke, reluctantly, to two bundles of fur and claws gently pawing my eye-lids and rubbing against me to get my attention. It was fully light out, but being the first of May, this made sense.

"Alright, be patient little ones; Mommy will feed you.”

I rinsed out their water bowls and food dishes and gave them their morning feed which they ate with terrifying eagerness.

“Sob!” I said as if acting in a camp melodrama, “Those poor kibbles didn’t stand a chance.” Then I saw the time. “Crap! It’s twenty to eight and I haven’t showered or anything!”

The residents of my floor were treated to the sight of Joanie in full panic mode. My entire shower -- transit included -- took less than five minutes including my hair which I wrapped in a towel to dry. I was dressed and out the door ten minutes later, my hair slicked down and heavy with moisture. I ran to Hawthorn, flashed my Security badge at the housemother, and ran to Tom and Tina’s room. I pounded on the door.

“Everybody up! It’s nearly eight AM!” I shouted.

I was greeted by an owl-eyed Cheryl and no one else.

“Why all the racket? Oh, it’s you, Joanie. What time did you say?”

“It’s two minutes to eight in the morning; where is everybody?” I asked.

The room was clean and neat except for a blanket on the couch where I presumed Cheryl had moved when one of the others took over ‘guard duty’.

“They got up at six-thirty, I think, and left for their respective dorms to clean-up and dress. I was out of it, so they let me snooze. I’d better hustle, or I’ll be late for class. Sorry about missing the farm stuff today,” she said.

"You earned it protecting our friends; I’ll still pay you, Cheryl. I’ve got to go, you’ll be okay?”

“Go, Joanie, I’m too awake now to fall back to sleep even if I wanted to, and I so want to,” Cheryl said and stretched her body.

* * * *

I rushed to toward the Crystal Hall, noting a few of my crew waiting at my truck over at Administration.

“Be with you in five!” I shouted to them. The rest of the crew, most from last night’s sleepover, were at my favorite table. I was assaulted with some sort of breakfast sandwich, and an insulated cup of coffee so large Cheryl would have approved.

“Ice, milk, a touch of sugar and regular coffee, gack! Just as you like it, Joanie,” said Tina looking happier and almost motherly towards me.

“You didn’t have....”

“I did. I got the coffee; Tom figured an egg sandwich would fill your tummy. Thanks for last night. You didn’t have to wake us with the news, but thank you. We all slept much better after, even Cheryl. Where is she?” Tina asked.

“She's frantically getting ready for classes. I found her asleep in your room at two minutes to eight,” I explained.

Tom looked guilty, and the girls looked cross.

“I thought you were supposed to wake her, Tom,” Tina asked in an accusing tone.

“I tried, but she was out of it. She looked so peaceful, and she had stayed up most of the night for us -- I couldn’t,” he explained.

“That’s okay, I couldn’t either,” said Pinky. “Ready, Joanie? We’re late in leaving for the farm already,“ she added.

We hurried out the door, I did so half on autopilot. I heard someone call out to me.

“Party too much, Blondie? Wet hair, how tacky,” snarked a vaguely familiar voice.

“My friend was up much of the night consoling two of our friends; what’s your excuse, bitch,” Suzy snarled at the rude girl.

I was shocked at the anger behind her words. Then again Suzy is a blood-relative, and you know the rest.

‘’Your friend got my sister suspended from Whateley by tricking her into a fight,” the semi-Goth girl said with venom; it dawned on me who she must be.

“Your sister isn’t possibly the witch who hung with the Omegas last semester, is she?” I asked.

“Damn right, Ms. Silicone. How much did you pay for those ridiculous boobs of yours? You tricked my sister into fighting, and now she can’t find a school that will take her until Whateley rescinds her suspension!" The girl’s face was red with fury.

“I do not have time for this now, Miss. Ask Chief Delarose to show you the security tapes of the incident. Tell him Timeout referred you to him. Your sister fell in with a pack of bullies and thugs. If she straightens herself out, I have no quarrel with her or you. If you believe that bitching at me helps her, fine, be my guest, but it’s a waste,” I said and walked out the door as she stared at us.

“Joanie, why’d you let her off the hook?” Pinky asked.

“That was nasty stuff she said; I’d have had it out with her,” Tom argued as we hurried to my truck.

“I’m staff, I can’t beat-up students, and if she does as I suggest she’ll know her sister is wrong. Then, maybe, both of them will be better off because of me,” I said as we reached the truck. ”Everyone in! Sorry I’m late, some friends needed help last night,” I explained, -- not all the crew was at the sleepover -- and we shot off to my farm.

We were short on space, so Suzy graciously sat on Tom’s lap to make room.

~~They’re flirting in public now; Cousin Christine will kill me if this gets out of hand. ~~

“Hands and lips to yourselves in back, Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” I barked, and everybody laughed.

* * * *

Harry and Fran were there with Jade and Jinn as were several staff members from the Operations department. We met with them as I scarfed my remaining coffee and sandwich. Dainty I was not.

“Sorry we’re late; several friends of ours needed help last night,” I explained.

“No need to explain; the Andersons called on us this morning on their way into Whateley. Fran and I finished the mini-rail system; do you want to see it?”

“Okay, but remember; I’m building a home here, not a mini-theme park,” I said and snickered. Harry and Fran laughed.

“Its purpose is hauling construction debris out and supplies in to the building site as needed, silly girl,” Harry said and immediately appeared upset with himself. “That was rude and inconsiderate. I apologize for my insensitive comment,” he apologized charmingly.

“It’s okay, big, furry guy, and I did put my foot in it. I mean the mini-rail thing had to be for the remodeling, duh!” I said and gave him a big hug -- hey, he’s a big man.

~~It feels like I’m a toddler again, and I’m squeezing a giant Teddy bear -- a rather handsome one at that. ~~

“You seeing anyone special, Harry?” I asked in my sex goddess voice, which is frighteningly like most of my other voices.

“There’s this girl from Poe, Billie Wilson, and she has the cutest blue animé hair. Lots of people think she’d dangerous, but she’s a real sweet young woman,” he said, wistfully.

“Oh, she’s the flying girl who’s part of Team Kimba, Chief Delarose thinks a lot of her. Ms. Hartford had it in for her, so I’ve been told, but then she’s a strange woman. This stays between us, but I think there is a normal person buried under all the layers of efficient bitch. There must be. Ms. Carson stands by her, and I get along with Ms. Hartford and I hate bullies. Sorry, I had a Disney moment,” I said and giggled.

“Not a blonde moment?” asked Fran.

“I’m a strawberry-blonde, thank you very much. That makes me sexy, stupid, and ill tempered, so watch it, Frannie-poo,” I said to Fran and my band members broke out laughing. “Now that I’ve insulted everyone, please show us your mini-rail so we can get to work.”

There was this narrow, low railway track, like someone shrunk an amusement park or zoo railway down in scale. It went in though a door on one side of the wrap-around porch and came out on the other side. The track passed by several 30 cubic yard dumpsters before returning to the farmhouse. It made for one big loop of track.

“Don’t let it confuse you. That is a type of railway they use in some underground mines and back-yard railways but with the latest improvements. The steel rails act as a brace and a core for the maglev system,” Harry said.

“Magnetic levitation? I know it works, but the superconducting magnets are cumbersome, and it’s too expensive for wide-scale use or so I thought,” I said.

“This combines the latest in room temperature superconductors, high-strength steel, laminated rot-proof ties; it's utterly reliable. They’ve been using these in mines for a decade. Maglev is more for braking and propulsion than lift but it assists with that, too. This spreads the load out over a greater surface of the track, reducing wear over conventional rail but at a fraction of the cost and complexity of a full-blown maglev system. The rail-cars use old-fashioned heavy gyros to hold them level and balanced over the narrow track at all times. Not your glamorous high-tech, but efficient and reliable; 'anti-grav’ is nice stuff but troublesome; mines want bulletproof and simple. The prefabricated mini-rail track segments simplify the design and avoid the alignment problems that occur with laid-rail systems. The track pieces together like a fancy toy train set

"With this we can move all the debris out of the house easily and safely and to bring in heavy tools and materials as well. The rail-cars move automatically when full, and are equipped with every proven safety feature so they won’t hurt people. You can push them by hand, too, which is what we’ll do most of the time as an added precaution. It’s easy to move and set up. We’ll soon have a loop run out to the barn so Fran can start her work on the foundation and restoration of the timber frame,” Harry said with pride.

“Fran, you haven’t said much,” I commented.

“Didn’t have to; Harry covered it all. I did some tests on your rock ledge under the barn, and on the old timbers; I should have little difficulty ‘flowing’ the materials as required,” the willowy girl said.

“This is a slick setup, thank you. Harry and Fran, please carry on as Operations instructs. I have my light demolitions and clean-up crew to check on.”

* * * *

I got the crew started on removing any remaining furnishings in the house, as well as any trash, debris, and other junk. I reminded them that if they weren’t sure what it was, they were to call for an expert -- one of the Operations people -- to identify it.

“On an old farm, Lord knows what kinds of chemicals and livestock drugs were abandoned, and they might be dangerous to handle. Be careful; some farmers were known to use dynamite to blast stumps and rocks. You see anything labeled Atlas, Hercules, or DuPont, or, if we're lucky, EXPLOSIVES, don’t touch it. Call Ops or Security; got it?” They all agreed. “Odds are the worst will be lead-arsenate based orchard sprays and DDT,” I said.

“Ms. Brown, I mean, Joanie?” asked Jade. “My sister, Jinn, would like to volunteer to examine the walls and other hard to access area on the project, for a cut of the loot,” Jade said and grinned.

“Huh?” I asked intelligently.

“Operations scanned the walls, but you can only tell so much from that. An old building was likely remodeled many times; sometimes people hid stuff in the walls. The effects of leaking pipes and roofs, or animal and insect damage, don’t always show on a scan. Jinn can make herself small, enter any suspicious wall cavities or crawlspaces, and check them out. We have a pair of mini radios so we can talk while she’s in the cavities. Jinn and I need the extra pay. This may save you money over time. As Mr. Anderson says, lack of knowledge can be fatal,” Jade said confidently, yet polite.

“That is a sound argument: locating rotting wood, bad utilities, or structural deficiencies would be valuable. A while back I helped Operations identify a demon on campus; it was buried in a bottle of sorts. If it had been damaged during the construction project, it would have been a disaster. I’ll accept your offer on the understanding Jinn never works alone doing these searches. She’s to do this only as part of a team with you, Ms. Jade, Stan, Morrie or another responsible professional,” I stated. "Please, no jokes about ‘was the Demon in a Bottle on the shelves next to the Pillsbury’s Armageddon Helper?'” I kidded them.

“Jinn, what do you say?” I asked the dead girl; strange campus, is it not?

“I’m good at things like this; you saw me pulling cable in that pipe. What sis said is okay with you? If we find something valuable in the walls, it’s okay if we split it with you, Joanie? Maybe some miserly old farmer hid a modest fortune in gold coin back during the Great Depression and forgot about it?” Jinn asked and smiled, if you could call that a smile.

“Seems fair; it would be my property legally, but if I never would have found it without your help then a fifty-fifty split sounds reasonable. You’re on your own for now; I have to go back to campus with some of the crew. I’ll be back this afternoon,” I said.

“We each have midday classes, but Stan will transport us as we need it. We won’t let you down,” Jinn said.

* * * *

I drove back to campus with several of the students and went to class. My classes flew quickly by, and I left for the middle lunch period after checking briefly on the kittens and picking up my mail. I got to the Crystal Hall, loaded my tray and sat down to eat. Pinky came soon after.

“If you have the time, help me sort my mail. I got a lot today.”

“Sure, once I’ve eaten,” she replied. “You must have a dozen pieces here, Joanie.”

We spent a few minutes to wolf-down our lunches like the cultured ladies we are before returning to my mail.

“There are bills and bank statements, and a letter from Mr. Ford -- hand addressed too,” Pinky said.

“Let’s see, it says essentially, 'I want to thank you again, yada yada yada', and so on. It’s nothing special, but it’s polite. He’s inviting me to attend any of the big US auto shows at their expense, if I’ll stop at the Ford displays for a few hours and talk to the public. I don’t know; it’s a cheap vacation, I suppose. What do you think?“ I asked.

“Going to a car show could be fun. There’s something from Playboy here, Joanie,” she said.

I opened the thick packet.

“Wow! Look at this, Pinky!” I said in amazement.

“Wow, yourself! You look so pretty,” Pinky said, as she looked at a prototype of the July cover.

They included proofs of my finalized photo shots. With cropping and captions they looked marvelous. Seeing that we are both girls -- well, more-or-less in Pinky’s case -- I showed her a few of the more ‘clothed’ pictures. She agreed they’d turned out well. I’d seen the first selection of prints, but the finished product took my breath away.

~~This is the possibly the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen, and she is me? Mom, I don’t know if you can hear me but for what it’s worth, thanks. I bet you’d approve of your pretty daughter. ~~

“Joanie, there’s a letter from Coke in the packet; it looks like a check, should I...?”

“Open it? Yes.”

She did, then she gasped. “Joanie, it’s ... Oh my!”

“Hand it to me, Pinky. Pay to order of Joan Brown the sum of One-hundred dollars exactly. That’s not much. Pinky.”

It was one of those bank checks where they emboss the amount and signature to discourage alteration.

“Move your thumb over,“ she whispered.

“Oh, I covered up the thousand. One hundred thousand dollars, that’s nice,” I said and went blank for a minute or so.

“You okay, Joanie?” Pinky asked me for the fourth or fifth time.

“Sorry, I spaced out for a moment. That’s a lot of money, Pinky, and what are they paying me for? I don’t recall doing anything for the Coke people.”

“This letter from Mr. Hefner explains it, Joanie. He wrote:

‘Bless you for the little revenue bonus. On a hunch, I contacted Coke and arranged to show them your time stop demonstration. When they saw you scoop the soda out of the air declaring, “This is good soda, I’ll not waste it,“ I thought their jaws would fall off. Enclosed is your share of the royalties for the use of that clip in their print and TV ads, and a release form authorizing Playboy to permit Coke to use these images and your voice from the demonstration. My legal staff and I thought this was only fair and proper, as we never anticipated this would happen. Technically your original model’s release covers this, but under the circumstances legal insisted. Note that this is only the first check from Coke; there may be more.

'Ford bought additional ad space after you purchased one of their pickups, and we may have to add a few extra pages for all the advertising we sold them. You will get a share of that as well -- Ford insisted. Our advance orders indicate July 2007 will be our biggest selling issue in years, possibly the biggest in our over fifty year history. The overseas sales projections are mind boggling; rest assured, Whateley will get its fair share of that pie. Your obedient servant, Hugh,’" Pinky finished.

“P.S. Coke was so happy, they gave your school a sweetheart deal, if you’re wondering why Whateley switched over to Coke, Joanie. Hugh,” Pinky added.

“What have I done?” I muttered to myself.

“Did you say something, Joanie?” Pinky asked.

“Just thinking about how all this will impact my life,” I said.

“Then this one should drive you crazy, or give you a laugh, take your pick,” she said, and handed me a letter.

I read it our loud, “Dear Ms. Brown ... so on and so forth ... as an artist of color ... You are invited to perform on our 2007 Summer Music Special ... all expenses paid ... Sincerely, BET.” I paused for a moment. “That’s nice, an invitation to appear on a cable music special. I get the impression this was a form letter sent out to certain top forty recording artists based on a computer data base. Given how bad they screwed up my old name, I’m not surprised.”

“Screwed up how?” Pinky asked but I figured she’d guessed.

“Given my common last name, and the zip code I lived in included part of the City of Milwaukee, they thought I was African-American. Another database thought my family and I lived in an apartment building — this in a block of only single family homes and duplexes. I’ll admit to being ’one sexy momma’, if that’s the correct vernacular, but me, an African-American, with this pale skin and scrawny booty? I’ve seen hip-hop music videos, I mean, let’s be real. I could never shake it like that,” I said and giggled.

Pinky nearly fell out of her chair laughing. “Think of the shock on their faces if you showed up at that TV special,” Pinky said and cracked up again; I sat there suddenly silent.

“Pinky, that might not be a bad idea, but it needs little work,” I said calmly.

“You’re not planning doing anything devious or underhanded, are you, Joanie? Can I help? It sounds like fun,” she asked and only occasionally broke out in giggles.

* * * *

Pinky left for class. I had a gap before my next one, so I made a phone call.

“Warner Music, how may I direct your call?”

“Mr. Karaoke, please,“ I asked and giggled.

“Joanie, he has a name,” the secretary admonished me while laughing herself. “Nice to hear from you, dear. I’ll get him on the line,” she said.

“Mr. Karaoke here, Miss July,” he said and chuckled.

“Good try, but you're always Mr. Karaoke to me,” I said and giggled more.

“Joanie, at the rate your records are selling, you can call me anything you like. What may do for you today, dear?”

“Why are you always so charming? It makes it so hard to take advantage of you. Do you have any contacts with a top-notch hip-hop, rap, soul, or urban contemporary producer?”

“You thinking of branching out of country, rock, and pop?” he asked. “Isn’t that a tad greedy, girl? You have the charts in a stranglehold, Joanie.
Did you know you’re on the religious charts now? Don’t ask me how,” he said.

“I can hardly wait until Playboy comes out; that should shock them,” I said and snickered. “I keep getting mail that assumes, because of my family name, I’m African-American. BET invited me to perform on their Summer 2007 Music Special, as I am, and I quote, ‘an artist of color,’ end quote.”

“You are Ms. Brown, are you not,” he said jokingly.

“Yeah, like I’m sooo totally ghetto fabulous or whatever, you know!” I said in my fluent val-speak. “I’d like to do an album under an assumed name, with no photos or publicity that indicates who I am. It’s for the challenge of performing music different from any I’ve done before, and for the reaction when I reveal I’m the artist,” I explained.

“Pulling a Stephan King are we, Joanie?” he said, being clever.

“Exactly, like when he wrote those detective novels under a pseudonym,” I replied. “Shankshaw Redemption originally was one, I think.”

“I thought I had you, Joanie,” he admitted.

“Don’t forget I’ve lived for 49 years, Junior,” I teased.

“It’s so easy to forget your history; your face and body scream teenager, Joanie. We do have some interest in the urban/hip-hop part of the music spectrum, Joanie. I imagine you’d prefer an East coast producer given your location in New Hampshire?” he asked.

“That would help, but he must be a solid producer. This may be for fun but I want to record good material, not fluff,” I said.

“I’ll make a few calls, keeping your name out of it. There’s this one top producer with a great sense of humor, I’ll try him first. He’d go for a stunt like this,” he explained.

“Thanks, and I will do a new ‘Joanie’ album for you this summer, promise,” I said.

“Deal, Joanie. Oh, can have your ... “

“... autograph on a July Playboy. Absolutely ... pervert,” I snorted.

* * * *

I went to my afternoon class and was about to drive to the farm when my cell rang.

~~That’s a Washington, DC, area code. ~~

“Hello? Is that you, Joe? How’s the Senate treating you?” I asked.

“Joanie, you’re too quick for me,” Joe said happily.

“Joe, I have caller ID. Your number may be blocked but I did get area code data. What may I do for you,” I said cheerfully; Joe was easy to talk with.

“It’s what you *have* done for me. I want to thank you again for putting me and Sara together, Miss Matchmaker,“ he said.

“I’m glad; she’s a fine woman, and I hate seeing both of you alone.”

“Can you keep a secret,” he asked.

“Oh, juicy Senate dirt; lay it on me,” I said.

“I feel I must tell you as you’re directly responsible for what’s about to happen. Joanie, I took my late wife’s engagement ring in to be copied and repaired.”

~~Whoa! Does that mean...~~

“Explain please. My brain just froze,” I muttered.

“She promised it to the first grandchild who needed one, so I need another.”

“You’re asking Sara to marry you? It’s been a month or two at most!” I was so excited for Joe and Sara I’d missed an important detail.

“I knew my wife only two weeks when I proposed. Sometimes you know, and I’m certain of my love for Sara. I wish I’d met her years earlier. I’m 60, I can’t afford to waste time. Thank you for the advice about giving her a good ... I’ll not say the vulgar term. Let’s say, it was heaven. Sara is a tigress; it took everything I had to keep up with her, but we both ended up satisfied. I missed that so much since my wife died,” he said softly.

~~Babs was in pre-school when Mrs. Williams died, she’s 35 now, so it’s been.... ~~

“You have a lot of lost time to make up for,” I said and chuckled. “You make sure you keep her happy, mister.”

“If she doesn’t kill me, Joanie, but what a way to go!”

“That was my line, Joe, and I agree. She is a lovely woman.”

Joanie, I had to tell you first; I haven’t asked Sara yet. I hope to fly out this weekend,” he explained.

“Take her to China Express’s Chinese Buffet. It’s got good food, and they’ll go crazy when you ask her,” I said.

“The MSG hang-out, of course, and she’ll see the humor in it. Much better than some stuffy formal restaurant; thanks for the suggestion.”

“You let me know, ASAP, either way -- not that she’ll turn you down. My MSG friends told me how odd she’d been acting since your sleepover,” I insisted.

“Will do. I’ll hold you to the same when the time comes.”

“Ah, sure. Bye, I have to go.”

His closing remark reminded me of what he had said earlier. ~~“The first grandchild who needed one?” Ghods, his late wife’s ring is intended for me? Whoa, Eric, I’m flattered but this is all a bit fast… The hunk loves me! … Calm down, girl, you have to wait until he’s old enough. It’s a good thing I’m such an emotionally stable girl.~~

~~My Eric want’s to marry me and he’s told his grandfather! Ghod, this is sooo kewl and he’s sooo hot!! This is terrible, I don’t even have a wedding gown and … So much for your being *emotionally stable*, Joanie. Four years before Eric can reasonably be expected to ask me, and Joe is waiting to hear? The mind boggles. Does he have a caterer and a hall lined up for us?~~

* * * *

I drove to my farm to check on the progress. One of those large dumpsters was close to filled with assorted junk. Harry was inspecting the mini-rail and making some minor adjustment.

“How are we coming along?” I asked him.

“Ms ... Joanie, it’s working out fine. I like to tweak things, but it’s worked flawlessly so far. Jinn and Jade came back after classes and have managed a thorough inspection of every crawl space in the building. They are checking out areas in the walls that the scans suggested looked odd. If there isn’t an existing opening, Jade cuts a small hole with a cordless drill. That way we can inspect the cavity and add insulation with ease later since we have the access,” Harry explained.

“Why not a mini camera on a cable — like an endoscope?” I asked.

“We tried that yesterday, but with all the alterations, and no building code when this was built, many parts of the stud cavities are obstructed. The old blown insulation is a problem in some places. The cameras are hard to aim; Jinn can do a much better inspection,” he said and gave me a big, wolfy grin.

Jade came running up; she appeared agitated but under control

“My sister was checking on a trouble spot in the wall facing the road and something bad happened; she says there is a bomb in the wall.”

~~A BOMB!? ~~

~~Calm yourself, panic will do no one any good, Joanie. ~~

“A freaking bomb! We have a bomb on the farm?,” I shrieked.

~~Joanie; think calm, rational thoughts — you are not a blonde, mostly.~~

“It's not that I doubt her; with a possible bomb it’s best to assume the worst. She‘s certain?” I asked, forcing a professional detachment on my person.

“She was checking-out an object in the wall-cavity that Operation’s scanners couldn’t identify. It could have been an abandoned electrical panel or a home-made wall safe. Once inside the wall, Jinn noticed something strange about the metal box. As she worked her way inside it she saw a grenade — just like the ones you see in a war movie. She tried backing away but brushed a tripwire, which pulled out the pin. The grenade is so old the handle didn’t fly off immediately. She‘s managing to hold it in place, but can’t reach the pin or even see where it fell. And she has no bobby-pin, nail or wire to use as a substitute,” Jinn said precisely, but rapidly. Though she was a petite teenage girl she acted far more mature.

“She was in the walls purely to examine the suspicious areas, so she’s traveling light. This way she could get in and out using the smallest of openings. She has no tools with her, just herself and a mini-radio. Jinn was to investigate those suspicious areas and report her findings via the radio. It allowed us to track her exact location — to pinpoint what she discovered,” Jade explained barely pausing to breathe.

“Jinn’s a spirit, she wouldn’t be hurt if it goes off, would she?” I asked. “I don’t mean to sound callous. If we have to, we evacuate everyone, she releases the grenade and escapes the wall before it goes off. The wall can be replaced,” I said.

“Naw, she wouldn’t be HURT hurt. But I’m sure it won’t feel very nice.”

It sounded to me like she was hiding more concern than she wanted to let on.

“Besides,” Jinn’s got that mini-radio with her. I know money is nothing to you, Joanie, but Jinn and I are wards of the State. It takes forever to earn enough to pay for that sort of equipment!”."

"Jinn can’t reach the pin, you said,” I asked.

"The box is partially full of blown insulation that has worked its way in from above and there is a gap between the open side of the box and the exterior wall. She’s scanned and felt around in the box, but the pin fell down below somewhere and it’s hopeless to find, even if she could reach it,” Jade explained. “My sister is remarkable, but even she has her limits.”

Jade was clearly not telling all, but that had to wait. The safety of those on my farm was paramount.

I got on my cell and called Security. This clearly was a bomb and dangerous.

“Security alert! Possible unexploded explosive device at farm, my location. Evacuating same; send bomb squad. Timeout over,” I radioed to Whateley Security.

"Whateley, acknowledge, possible bomb on your farm, Timeout. ETA five minutes. Do not attempt to move or defuse. Switch to landline if possible; turn all transmitters off. Electric detonation a risk, acknowledge. Over.”

“Bomb appears to be old military grenade, but will comply with warning. You’ve got it; radios off, will use landline. Timeout out.”

We’d run a phone-line into the machinery shed for the use of the construction workers, and the alarm systems Sam recommended.

“Attention, we have a possible explosive device in the south facing farmhouse wall. Shut off all electrical equipment, radios, or cell-phones. Move carefully away from the farmhouse and take shelter in a ditch or behind a stone wall. Wait until a Whateley officer instructs you what to do,” I yelled slowly and carefully. They got the message. The mini-rail shut down, and the radios were turned off along with all the drills and saws.

Harry spliced an extension into the phone wire, and we moved the phone to a point in the deep, road-side ditch, close enough for Jinn’s and Jade’s mini transmitters to be in range, yet far enough to provide some safety in addition to the ditch itself. I got Security back on the phone, and everyone else evacuated to a safe distance.

“Jade, I’m counting on to you to keep in contact with your sister, with my help of course. Call Jinn on your mini radio and tell her we have help on the way, but we need to know her status and anything she noticed about or around the grenade,” I asked her.

“Jinn, Jade here; we have help on the way. What's the status of the grenade? ...I understand... Is there anything suspicious in the immediate area? ...I see. How long can you hold it? ...No way to tie it shut? ...Please wait while I tell Security,” Jade said calmly.

~~This little gal’s one tough kid, if she ever gets bigger....~~

A bomb expert from security reached our position as Jade relayed Jinn’s message.

“Jinn says that the handle, or spoon, on the grenade tried to open so she squeezed it shut. She can’t reach any wire, nails, tape or anything to replace the lost pin or secure the handle. She’s tried hard to reach down below to where the pin fell. She does have shape-shifter powers, but it’s hopeless — it’s too far, and there is too much debris in the wall. She thinks if she lets go the grenade handle will fly off. The problem is she’s near the end of her charge. In five minutes she’ll lose form, and her spirit will return to me. We have to touch to recharge her form. Jinn will be safe, losing charge doesn’t harm her, but the grenade will likely explode, “Jade relayed.

“Damn, five minutes? If we had longer, a robot could drill a hole in the wall and pass in a cotter pin or nail, but that’s too little time,” said the officer. ”We could do it in less than that, maybe, but that would mean an officer drilling the hole without the protection of a full set of bomb disposal armor on. We don’t have the time to get one kitted up, so that’s a suicide mission.”

“I’m very fast for a non-speedster and I’m a high level regen. I’d risk drilling a hole to pass a piece of wire through to Jinn if it would help. You know how bad I was injured during my assault and I recovered,” I offered, part of me hoping he’d say no.

I thought for a moment Jade looked like she wanted to say something but was conflicted and changed her mind.

“It may not be only a grenade, Joanie. Sorry Jade. If you bother to booby-trap a hidden cache, why take half measures? You might hit another tripwire with the drill or something worse -- it’s too dangerous. Someone who goes to all this trouble will likely have rigged several ways to set off the grenade and maybe planted other explosives if we’re unlucky. It’s best we get her out and try a robot after. Jade, can she wedge it, so when she lets go the handle can’t move?”

“Jinn, did you hear the officer? Okay, you do what you think is best but warn us, sis,” Jade said.

“She says she can try, but she’s not hopeful. There is no obvious tight spot to wedge in. Jinn says again that the box is heavy looking steel and covers the interior wall side. It’s open to the exterior wall,” Jade said.

“Sounds like a crude claymore mine, or shape-charge. It’s likely this booby trap was built to kill attacking police. A survivalist did live in the house back in the 1970’s,” the bomb expert said, he looked worried.

“Yes, Jinn. That sounds important; I’ll ask him," Jade said.

“Officer, Jinn said it’s hard to see, lots of cobwebs and fallen insulation obstruct her view but she says there are dusty jars filled with what looks like old nuts and bolts, big ones, and an oily old wood box tight against the back of the steel box that she thinks has the word ‘Atlas’ printed on it,” Jade said.

“That’s bad! Unstable dynamite, am I right?” I asked, my voice squeaking, he nodded.

The officer nodded and used the phone. “Unstable dynamite and shrapnel surrounding the device, evacuate all personnel to at least several hundred yards to the east or west using all available cover. We will abandon forward post. Blast expected to the south but assume no side of the farmhouse is safe,” the officer said.

“Miss Jade, may I have your radio, so I can keep in contact with Jinn? You and Joanie must evacuate now. I will pull back to as far as the radio can reach and give her last instructions then I will pull back again. I have partial body armor and a special helmet, you two don’t,” he said.

“Jade, I don’t care about the house. Buildings can be rebuilt; people are precious. Come with me,” I said and smiled to comfort her.

“Jinn, I’m giving the radio to the bomb expert. Do as he says; Joanie says don’t worry about the house -- people are what counts. Good luck,” she said and handed over the tiny in-the-ear radio.

We retreated and waited.

The officer yelled “Sixty seconds!” and scurried to a place of greater safety.

Jinn looked at her watch; I could see her lips move as she mouthed the seconds until Jinn would lose her form.

“Sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three ...” Jade counted, we waited.

There was an explosion that shook the ground.

“She’s back!" Jade exclaimed with joy, and stood up.

“Get down until the all....” I shouted.

There was a much larger blast. Jade fell backwards, and screamed.

I saw Jade sprawled motionless on her back, except for some spasmodic twitching in one thumb. A jagged great splinter of wood was sticking out of her right breast like a garish vampire stake, I rushed to her side.

* * * *

To be continued

Joanie rushes to aid Jade and learns the child wasn't the only one maimed. The Anderson twins talk about Pinky, her dangerous mental powers and her relation to Joanie. More celebs show up at her farm. Joanie gets a car that puts the little old lady from Pasadena to shame. We hear about the Smith's twin mom and Katie. And this ferret/mink/big furry rat -- no one is quite sure what it is -- comes into her life.

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!: Ed.) 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" and added dialog by Babs Yerunkle
Painless punctuation practiced by Itinerant
Grudgingly approved by the Guild of Evil Blonde Proofreaders

Chapter 2, This Old Farm House -- A Blast From The Past 2, Congratulations, It’s A Girl 4, Welcome to Adulthood 3, Hey Miki You're So Fine 1

Whateley Academy Dunwich, May01-May02, 2007

May 01, 2007, 3:30PM

I checked Jade over briefly; she was breathing slowly and there was little evidence of blood. I had taken basic Red Cross first aid training decades before in the Scouts. I had refresher training with Security, but chest wounds were beyond my skill. All I could do was call for help and keep the wound closed.

"Timeout to all units, serious chest wound my location, roadside ditch 100 yards northeast of main entrance to my farm. Need EMT’s and transport stat. Will leave link open, Timeout over," I said with practiced efficiency.

"Ghod, I hope the chest wound is the worst of it; that thumb twitching scares me. Damn it, I could have saved you. If you’ve suffered neurological damage due to my failure to react. I’ll never forgive...." I said and felt violently ill.

I truly *enjoyed* my lunch in inverse order from the way I’d originally eaten it. As I recovered between heaves, I thought I heard a rapid snapping/popping sound, a bit like a noisy dot-matrix printer. I wiped my mouth and turned back to face Jade; I thought I saw a small, circular object moving down near Jade’s belt, but I wasn’t sure.

~~Must be my imagination. All she has on the belt are tools and a Hello Kitty makeup compact -- on her belt? That’s odd, I smell burnt wood ... What the hell happened to the splinter?! Something has cut most of it away.~~

I noticed the remnant of it laying by Jade’s side -- jagged except for a series of precisely spaced scorch marks cutting across one end -- it clearly matched to the stub sticking out of Jade’s breast. That disturbing random thumb twitch gave me the willies. I had no time to ponder these strange observations of mine; several officers came up and helped assess Jade’s injuries. One I recognized as reserve EMT.

"We’ll take care of her now, Joanie. Stand by for now, okay? Nice job cutting back the splinter -- that will make transport much easier. I didn’t know you knew how to use a pulsed laser cutter," he said and I felt a little better.

~~Laser cutter, what laser cutter? All I have is a Swiss Army knife.~~

They radioed to Whateley medical and soon an EMT team arrived by hover platform. Seconds later a Whateley ambulance arrived.

While the EMTs worked on Jade, I called around and determined everyone was accounted for and uninjured. That wasn’t strictly true; I took a quick peek at the farmhouse and the four large holes in its sides. I was surprised to see the second story was still the second story and not all mixed up with the first floor and basement. I kept an ear open for when I might be needed and stared in horror at the devastation wrought by the bombs.

~~Is the roof leaning to the east now? That can’t be good!~~ I thought to myself as a walked around a corner of the house while carefully avoiding stepping on the jagged debris. ~~Now that I've seen more, I think the whole east side is sagging.~~

“Damn, the whole east side is gone!” I exclaimed, though no one could hear.

~~Looks like the corners and central stairs are all that is supporting that side. Thank Ghod no one was near the house when it blew; they’d be hamburger. That’s something to be thankful for. Hum? The north and west sides are better, though not by much. No obvious cracks in the mortar or missing bricks -- the central and kitchen chimney stacks look intact from what I can see. Maybe the house is repairable, but I don’t know.~~

“If I have to I’ll build new, so be it,” I said to no one in particular.

I walked up to the oddly shaped pile that represented what had been most of the east side of the house. The tires visible underneath bothered me somehow.

"It looks like this is laying on top of some ... thing ... Oh my poor baby!"

My weeks old police special crew cab had taken the brunt of one of the four explosive *gifts* the earlier tenant had left behind. It was partially buried and had flat tires on the side nearest the blast. Through a gap that had been a window in the house I could see dozens of dents and holes in the sides and top of the truck. The cab looked intact at least from what I could see.

I felt guilty. Here I was wasting time looking at a stupid house and truck while a girl might be dying. I knew the EMTs wanted me out of their way, but what I’d been doing didn’t seem right. I turned away and worked my way carefully back toward the ditch. I’d check out things in detail later; Jade was -- must be -- my only concern and properly so.

The bomb expert came up to me. "I’ll follow up here and assess the damage so we can determine what they used. Looks like four bombs -- one for each side of the house -- rigged for all to go off if any one was triggered. I’ll let you know when you can begin cleanup and demolition. I doubt if the house is salvageable," he said, and I nodded my understanding. "The Chief has made sweeping your property a priority; expect to see me or others from Security scanning every inch of your farm for explosives. Joanie, you’d best buy a box of dog biscuits for Fifi; he’s our best explosives sniffer and we’ll need him. If our survivalist placed these four bombs...."

"... there could be more and maybe a stockpile somewhere else. I’ll cease work if you think it advisable," I replied.

"Well, the house is certainly clear of explosives. We’ll have the buildings and all the surrounding ground done by tomorrow. The rest of the farm -- the fields and fence rows -- will take longer," he said.

The EMTs asked for my assistance, so I helped lift the litter into the ambulance which rushed off to Whateley medical. I rode back with one of the hover platform officers.

~~This is a slick way to ride and so cozy. Ooh he’s built, nice abs, cute tush -- Joanie, stop it, you’re not having sex with this man to bury your guilt, girl.~~ I thought as I hung on tight to the male pilot and officer.

It reminded me of doubling up on a motorcycle.

~~Maybe Eric and me on a cycle, we could.... ~~

Sometimes I *hate* my libido.

We got back to Whateley and I assisted in transporting Jade into Medical. Dr. Pollard and several nurses came in and began to prep her. Her clothes were filthy with dust and fine debris which fell off as they cut them away from her body. I hung around for awhile, not sure what to do next -- maybe fifteen minutes to half an hour tops. The nurses came and went with various supplies and a second surgeon came and assisted while Pollard and several others worked rapidly on her chest, some kind of surgery I assumed. Everything was done at an almost frantic pace and it worried me.

~~Is Jade close to death? I feel sick. ~~

I couldn’t stand to look anymore, and I turned to leave.

"Joanie, stay; we can use the help. The nurses need a break and someone must be with Jade. I can see you’re beating yourself up on this. You need to know it’s not that bad," Pollard said almost smiling.

"She’ll make it? I’d been warned there might be more than one bomb. If only I’d thought to time stop Jade when she stood up, I could have gotten her back down to safety. She’s going to have horrible scars and that twitching can’t be good; she’s got a brain or spinal injury, right?" I said choking back tears. "Please tell me I’m wrong! I’ve scarred and crippled an innocent girl; I’m a ghod-damned failure!" I said angrily and crying. He held me for several minutes while I cried out the stress from earlier.

"Joanie, calm down, we’re finished and it went well. You can ask her yourself in a little while," Pollard said softly.

"Wha ... t?" I sputtered.

"Come and see. Jade’s ready to be moved to recovery," he said and led me to Jade’s bedside.

"We’re finished cleaning her, Doctor," the nurse said.

"Let’s have a look, Joanie."

He lifted her hospital gown exposing her upper chest. It was roughly an hour since the explosions. I forced my self to look at her disfigured, bloody ...

~~For a petite girl, those are nice breasts -- almost a good as mine. Not as big but respectable and real perky. They look perfect except for some bruising, and that bright red scar on the right one, though it appears to be healing well. This makes no sense at all, unless? ~~

"Doctor Pollard, she had this big, hideous splinter in her chest. It looked straight out of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I’d expect lines of stitches and bandages and, well, a lot more damage than this. What’s going on here? Is Jade a," I whispered, "regen? Eeep!" I shrieked as Jade’s eyes opened and she blinked a few times.

"I hate it when this happens!" Jade exclaimed then moaned.

"You're okay!" I exclaimed and tried to hug her.

"Yeouch! That hurts!" Jade yelled at me as my arm brushed her injured breast.

"I’m so sorry; I get all touchy-feely at times. Can the doctor get you a pain killer? It was my fault you got hurt. I was worried you’d be disabled or disfigured and ... Now I’m babbling; maybe I really am a blonde, huh?" I said and Jade smiled though she seemed to be in pain. She looked around carefully then spoke.

"I heard you whisper to Dr. Pollard, Joanie. I am a regen; I wasn’t always, but I’m one now, and a high level regen at that. My body burns off medicines so fast they’re almost worthless. They did all my surgery without anesthesia -- not fun, believe me. Thanks for asking though. Don’t worry, by tomorrow there won’t be a scar or bruise on my body," Jade said in a soft and polite voice. Then she quickly added, "Please don’t ever tell anyone; if people knew I was a ... you know."

"I share your fears; don’t worry, I won’t ever tell. You’re like me in that, Jade. You must have heard about my assault on campus. Most of the bones in my body were broken and my heart stopped, but here I am thanks to my regen. I have the same trouble you described, drugs wear off too fast to be any good to me; thank Ghod my mind has the good sense to render me unconscious if the pain is too great. PMS and my period are a joy, and I make sure to share my joy," I said and giggled. Jade snickered, too, until it hurt too much.

"I know the feeling; the first time my friend Nikki had PMS she made it thunder and lighting on our floor in Poe -- she’s a kind of sorceress. Don’t ask about my roommate Billie, you don’t want to know," Jade said and laughed.

"How’s Jinn? You shouted she was back just before the big explosion went off," I asked.

"She’s okay; she, um, doesn’t like seeing me hurt. It reminds her of when she, well, you know. She went back to our dorm room," she said, but it didn’t ring true.

I suspected Jinn was nearby and lying low -- they watched each other’s backs, it was obvious. Jade’s expression showed I’d touched a nerve.

"Should you want to talk about it; I’m very good at keeping secrets," I said then I whispered in her ear. "There are some things you’re not telling me, but that’s your prerogative. Jade; tell me when and if you can, but I’ll not press you. I have secrets I need to keep too, like where my dad and sister live," I said, and she nodded and looked relived.

"I don’t like to sound mercenary, but how much are you out with all this, dear? You were injured on the job so I feel responsible," I said. "You must have medical bills."

"It’s okay. Uh, I have a really good medical plan," she said evasively.

Earlier I’d noticed a damaged and bloody plastic sack -- more of a blob, really, that oozed a thick fluid -- lying in a biohazard waste container along with sponges, torn open sterile packaging, used scalpels and the like. I only now realized what it was; the shape was unmistakable.

"It must be to cover," I whispered, "breast augmentation. They‘re very nice, by the way. You and your surgeon have excellent taste," I said cautiously.

She looked worried for a moment then my smile and gentle squeezing of her hand must have relieved her.

"I have a VERY good plan, I’m covered," she said, then she smiled and giggled for a moment. "I could use help another way though, Joanie."

"You need but ask. Remember I’m distraught and not thinking straight -- an easy mark for your nefarious plans," I said and giggled which broke her up.

"Ouch, don’t make me giggle; it hurts," she said and giggled; she was getting better fast.

"I don’t need help with my medical needs, but my clothes and Jinn’s equipment are another matter. She got out okay but lost that micro-radio. I had to save up for months to buy that," she said and made this cute, adorable, weepy-eyed waif expression, then grinned wickedly.

"Ooh, that was evil! Don’t ever use that expression on anyone again, Jade. You reminded me of one of those early 1960’s paintings of little kids with huge sad eyes -- creepy. Get the radio you need, upgrade it while you’re at it. Call it a bonus for a job well done," I said and she looked at me like she was prompting me to say ‘and’. "I’ll replace any clothes or other equipment you ladies lost. You should throw in some shampoo, soap, and makeup on the bill, you look a mess," I said and chuckled.

"Sounds fair, Joanie. I don’t want to be seen as greedy, but Jinn and I work our butts off ‘cause we’re here as wards of the state. I’m not complaining; it’s much better than being back at home," she said and gave a small shudder, "but any extras are on our own nickel. Do we still have our jobs?" she asked, looking anxious.

"Are you joking, Jade? If Jinn hadn’t the guts to stay calm and hold that grenade shut while warning us, a lot more than a house would have been gutted. I’d planned to rent it out or have my friends stay there. I -- this stays between us Jade -- I have a boyfriend. He’s a, um, teenager too, so we can’t, you know, but someday he’ll be old enough to come and sleep over. If he had been in the house, or his mom, his sister, or my dad and it ..." I stopped and cried softly.

"I understand, Joanie. I have friends I love too," she said so sweetly I wanted to wrap her up and take her home as mine.

"I owe you big for this. I could get Cecilia Rogers to make you some bullet-resistant clothes like she made for me. Working for Operations can be dangerous; today was proof," I offered and laughed.

"Ooh! Her clothes are to die for. My roommate Billie gets hers from Miss Rogers and they make her look sharp. I’ll consider it; I don’t want to take advantage or feel obligated," she explained, then she grinned. "Ooh, could I get an outfit like you wore on late night TV -- that was wicked!"

"Um, I must warn you, Jade, Jedi mind control will not work on me as I’m so nearly a blonde, there is nothing to control," I replied and chuckled.

"And they let you teach here?" Jade asked facetiously.

"I, like bribed my way in, yah know?"

~~That’s close enough to the truth to sting a little, but if it helps her...~~

"Bitchn’ ‘do, girl. Is that gel or, uh, foam? Love your nails," I said and giggled. Jade snickered

"The clothing offer stands, Jade. The same goes for just chilling with me and venting your frustrations. Sometimes you have to tell somebody or burst. If you tell me your secrets I’ll tell you mine. Some of them are whoppers... I’ll let you play with my kitty cats," I offered.

"You mean your lions? I’ve seen you and Pinky walking them; they seem nice enough, but why lions?"

"Why does everyone assume they are lions? They’re not, you know," I said.

"I know they’re smilodons," she whispered that last word, "but it’s safer to call them lions. It would be cool to meet them, and it would be nice to talk to someone else about my troubles and stuff," she said.

"I’d like that; you’re such an interesting girl, I want to know more about you. I’m dying to know what that thumb twitching was about. I thought it was evidence of a brain or spinal injury, but I’m not sure now," I said, Jade laughed.

"It’s something Dr. Bellows taught me, a self-hypnosis trigger to deal with pain. It made the surgery tolerable too. This isn’t the first time I’ve been hurt since becoming a ... being a ... you wouldn’t think it hurts, but it does," Jade said.

"I’ll have to get the good doctor to teach me. Some of my menstrual cramps are winners, but you know about that, Jade," I said and Jade’s expression went from happy to sad in a flash.

"I said something stupid, forgive me. It’s obvious, I’m such a dope. The breast implants, your stature -- you’re not developing right, some kind of GSD and can’t have children?" I suggested; she held back tears. "I see, I struck a nerve again, but if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. I’m so sorry, Jade. Whatever it is, if I can possibly help, just ask me," I finished.

I decided to repeat my open invitation for Jade to visit me in my dorm or anywhere she preferred. I suspected much of her *official* background was a construct to protect her, but from what and why?

"Anytime or place you want to talk, let me know. Come back to work when you’re up to it, until then you and Jinn are on paid sick leave. I’ll see to it that Operations knows this. I stand by those who stand by me," I said.

"You don’t have to, but thanks, Joanie. Um, Jinn can work today if you need her. I’ll be okay by tomorrow," Jade said.

"It’s almost four, so tell Jinn to call it a day. Work tomorrow only if you ladies feel like it. If you need time to get your heads together, I understand," I said and Jade giggled strangely -- like I’d nearly stumbled onto something dangerous. "Jade, dear, when you feel like it, please tell me who the other one is," I said so only Jade could hear.

"Other one?" Jade asked in a soft, nervous tone. I could see her body tense.

"Someone cut-off that awful splinter with a pulsed laser. The EMTs think I did, but we both know better." I looked around to make sure we were still alone. "You’d just cried out that Jinn was back but I didn’t see her so she had to be in spirit form. You said earlier she needs to be *recharged* every few hours, but I doubt you had time to do it. If you did, I certainly did not see her afterwards. I was thinking, if Jinn can be almost any shape, what if you have more than one *dead* sister," I hypothesized making quote marks in the air.

"I thought I saw your Hello Kitty compact moving immediately after I heard the rapid popping sound. I noticed the cut-off piece of the splinter immediately after that. I can’t see a machine doing this autonomously, unless it had an advance AI, very expensive -- that leaves Jinn or someone else. What’s her name... Jean?" I asked. Jade looked on the edge of tears.

"She’s Jann. Please don’t tell, Joanie, I beg you! Only my doctors and Team Kimba know. If anyone else found out...." Jade pleaded and began to cry.

Ghods, she’s got those eyes like Mel has when she’s near panic. ~~

"Like the Alphas? That won’t happen and I do have a resource should they become a problem -- a former Alpha who is on the Whateley staff," I said.

"Hartford? She’d help -- the Wicked Bitch of the East?" Jade asked wide-eyed.

"No, that’s my third grade teacher, or was that the Wicked *Witch* of the East?" I said and Jade smiled.

"She owes me, and we get along in our fashion. I’m such a mass of contradictions. I’m middle-aged, yet physically 17. I was a man; I’m all-girl now. I’m friends with both Charlie Lodgeman and Ms. Hartford -- that’s darn near schizophrenic. Think of me as a neutral power on campus, with my feet in both the student and staff camps. Think of me as Sweden; hell, I look the part," I said and gestured at my body.

"You get along with Hartford? She tried to get my roommate Billie kicked out of Poe and Billie ‘s the greatest!"

"I didn’t say I agree with her, I said I get along. Some things she does are needlessly officious and uncaring, yet I’ve known her to do things that impressed me. If Ms. Carson can see some good in her, she must be okay," I replied.

"Ms. Hartford did something nice?" Jade asked incredulously.

"And it was for a first-year Whateley student. This happened both before and after I was friends with the child."

"WOW! Are you sure it wasn’t a clone of Ms. Hartford or a malfunctioning android?" Jade said in her bemusement, then she grinned.

"I like you; you’re silly like I am. Get well, get your head screwed on tight and come back to work, okay?" I asked. "Be seeing you," I said and made an odd sort of salute.

"You watch The Prisoner? Number Six is so cool! He wears just the sharpest suits. Wouldn’t it be great if you could get those *rover* balloon things to guard your farm?" Jade snickered.

"That never made sense to me. All those pin-on number badges and no one thought to pop the rovers with one," I replied.

"You’re a loony, Joanie," Jade said and giggled.

"It beats the alternatives: being freaked out at my mutation, the loss of my old friends, family, and life. Being sad that I’ll outlive anyone I’ll ever love... don’t repeat that last bit, ever, Jade," I said.

"Of course, high-level regens can have very long... I may live a real long time too, Joanie. That’s something to keep quiet about," Jade replied.

"Good, then maybe we should keep in touch. It would be nice to have a friend who’s around for the long-haul. Give it some thought," I asked.

"For real? You’d be my friend, Joanie?"

"For real, Jade, if you can stand me. I’m much more outgoing than I used to be, but even John valued his friends -- he was painfully shy and that hurt him. I’m Little Miss Bouncy, and I like it," I said. I was walking out of the room when Jade spoke.

"Joanie, no one in their right mind would ever call *those* little," she said, pointing at my chest.

"Arrgh!" I exclaimed and walked away giggling.

* * * *

I checked on the Sabers. Tom and Tina were constantly being shadowed by at least two of their friends no matter where they went. I talked with Tina Anderson, and she said the Smith’s were much calmer today. She and Chris had made a point of walking past their classrooms several times that day. They believed we could end the suicide watch soon, but having a couple friends sleep over was still a good idea if they had nightmares.

"It’s looking good, Joanie. Not that they won’t have nightmares or other problems, but the chance of suicide is fading fast," said Tina Anderson. "I’d recommend one or more of you sleeping over with them for a few more nights, but I think we’re over the hump. I talked to Pinky during her lunch about that mental compulsion she offered as a last resort to stop Tom and Tina from suicide. Her method is very dangerous, but I sensed Pinky’s heart was in the right place. It would work, but it’s too stressful in itself and can cause serious long-term problems for the recipient. I’d have tried inducing a calmer state and making them sleepy, if it had come to it.

"Chris and I had a long talk with her; we explained we’ve had extensive training in our mental powers so we know what we’re talking about. She knows now not to use *that* technique unless a professional asks her to, and I got her to promise to learn some safer, less intrusive techniques. I’ve even offered to help train her, with Dr. Bellows supervision, should she wish it.

"Pinky loves you very much, Joanie, and she values the new friends she’s made through you. She told me how proud she was that on their first day on campus you asked her to mentor Tom and Tina on the do’s and don’ts of student life at Whateley. And then you trusted her to get them safely back to their new dorm after supper. That you showed a high level of trust in her so soon after she nearly... She couldn’t say enough nice things about you -- the young woman worships you.

"It’s like you’re her mother and best friend all-in-one. Please don’t ever betray that, it would devastate her. She’s much more mentally sound now than before -- we both sensed it -- but she’s still not 100 percent. If she ever felt you’d hurt her, she’d might snap. There is the core of an outstanding person there, so be careful. With patience she’ll be a lovely person, but she’s more fragile than she looks."

“I know what you mean. If I hadn’t fallen for Eric, I could see myself falling for her. She’s special. How her mother can be so hateful is beyond me.”

* * * *

I called the Ford dealership and requested a flatbed tow truck come to my farm to pickup my damaged crew-cab. They promised someone would be out there at once. They seemed surprised I was having trouble with such a new vehicle. I ran out to my farm as the late afternoon weather was fine, and I’d missed my morning run.

* * * *

Stan and Morrie were looking over the wreckage that was my farmhouse. To my surprise, the TV cameras were up and running. A technician pinned a mic on my blouse. A graying, familiar man stood with them.

"Tom Silva?" I asked. The man smiled warmly, in response. "How’d you get here so fast? I mean, I wasn’t expecting you or Norm again until we’d finished cleaning up from the previous owner and here you are right after our, ah, tiny setback," I said and pointed at the disaster that was my farmhouse.

"At your service, Ms. Brown; beautiful country around here, I can see why you like it. I was on my way here for tomorrow; we like to film a before and after comparison, and I often give my professional assessment of a buildings condition. I learned of the explosions in-transit, so I hustled over after confirming my lodging. From Norm’s reports I thought this was a typical rehab, but I never expected this level of, shall we say, structural problems," he said in his disarming Boston accent.

"Would you believe really big termites?" I joked. "What’s the prognosis, Doc?" I asked in a Bugs Bunny voice.

"Pull the plug; this patient’s terminal. The structural damage is bad on its own. We’d have to spend a day or more just shoring it up enough to make it safe to enter. Add in the damage to the electrical, phone, plumbing, HVAC, every window shattered, and the plaster -- hopeless," said Stan.

"I’ve seen the video our remote cameras took of the explosions. I’m surprised the house is still standing. What's left is damaged and overloaded; even after repairs the structure would not be trustworthy. I agree with Click and Clack, it’s better to start anew. The big question is how best to take down the old building and is anything worth salvaging?" Mr. Silva said and grinned.

Stan and Morrie laughed, I could barely contain myself.

"Isn’t that two questions, Mr. Silva? I AM a teacher you know," I asked like a displeased schoolmarm and snickered. "I thought you two determined the flooring was special. I believe you mentioned it in your survey of the property," I said to Stan and Morrie, then I realized they’d not been introduced.

"Sorry, Mr. Silva, these two loonies are Stan and Morrie, they’re primarily plumbers, but double up on nearly everything else back at the Academy in our Operations department. They keep the hodgepodge of old school and bleeding-edge high-tech that is our campus running smoothly," I explained.

"The thrifty farmer who built this used whatever trees were on site at the time. Much of the flooring is old growth pine with its tight grain -- nice stuff. A couple rooms were old-growth oak and maple -- absolutely beautiful. With luck we can salvage some of that, enough for a few rooms or at least for trim and maybe some custom furniture," Morrie said.

"You plan to prop up the damaged structure and dismantle it in place? Risky," Silva said.

"No taking chances, not after these survivalist booby-traps we tripped. If you have to, pull it down. I will not have anyone hurt, understand?" I said.

"We -- that’s Stan and I -- have an idea. Actually Harry Wo ... Almost forgot, no last names with regard to the students, Joanie. Harry, one of our gadgeteer students came up with it. Harry says he could fabricate a cradle which a heavy-duty crane could lift into and through the now open first floor and position just below its ceiling. Once the cradle was secured, the crane would support the upper structure so it could be cut free. It would then be set it down safely to the side. We could dismantle the house with extreme safety this way," Morrie said.

"Where would we get a crane that big? ...Please, not the robotics lab!" I asked, with alarm.

"Not all their experiments run amok, and there is always DARPA," Stan said.

"The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency?" Mr. Silva asked in amazement.

"Nikki’s dad owes us a few, and Sam has his contacts," Morrie whispered to me.

"What was that all about?" Silva asked.

"Because the Academy takes in the most extreme mutants of any school in the US, we have become a valuable ‘proving ground’ for new materials and equipment. Between the energizers, super powered bricks and all the devisor/gadgeteers, these materials get a workout. The Academy gets the benefits of access to the latest and most robust technology and our students get a leg up on productive careers in industry. A heavy lift helicopter or antigravity drives, Stan?" I speculated.

"Who knows? We got your truck free of the debris. Sorry, Joanie, she’s totaled. The cab held up well; I guess they were right about it being a police package," Stan said.

"I have to go with the tow truck and see what the deal is. Go ahead, order any additional dumpsters we need and tell my student crew to just pickup debris for today. Make sure they use gloves, masks, goggles and their safety shoes. I don’t want to see anyone else injured. I have to go. They will be alright, no other nasty surprises?" I asked.

"Aside from the physical hazards -- the broken glass, exposed nails, splintered wood and the like -- the site tests out as safe. All these fine particles covering the debris are simply ordinary construction dust, no asbestos or toxic materials if that’s your concern. The wall insulation was nothing unusual and quite safe to handle. A good dust mask and goggles will provide excellent protection. Operations mixed up a simple detergent and polymer spray for us. We have a drum of it to fill the backpack units Morrie and I brought with us. We’ll simply wet things down whenever the dust blows too much. Being detergent based, it cleans up easy..

As to the house, Mr. Silva is going to assist us in inspecting the foundation; we have a robotic remote that can film inside. With luck we can reuse the foundation which will save weeks. You take care of your truck; we’ll take care of the rest. Operations ‘owes’ you and Charlie for the Hawthorne dock project," Stan said.

"Dock project? You have a lake here? I love boats," Silva said. I giggled.

"I’ll let them explain, excuse me," I said and left to meet the tow truck driver.

* * * *

"I understand you need a tow; did *we* speed in that hotrod of a truck of ... W ... What the hell happened?" the tow driver exclaimed.

"Oh, this? The usual, survivalist booby-traps house and leaves it behind when he moves out -- it wasn’t an epic battle between a valiant wizard and a demon, if you were wondering," I said.

"You ask a simple question and people get all snotty on you," he said and laughed. "No one was hurt, were they?"

"One injury that looked bad but wasn’t. It could have been much worse," I said.

"I remember hearing rumors about survivalists moving into the area back near the end of the Vietnam War. We do have more than our share of the unusual around here, but then that’s what makes life interesting," the driver said and smiled.

"I could do with a bit more *dull* at times, but I guess this goes with the whole gorgeous mutant babe syndrome."

"You are one at that, Ms. Joanie," he replied.

"One what?" I asked, grinning.

"A gorgeous babe, you seeing anyone special?"

~~He wants a date? He is rather buff and well groomed for a tow-truck operator, hum?~~

"Depends, what class is your rig?" I cooed and placed my right hand on my upper thigh.

"Heavy duty all the way, gorgeous," he grinned.

"I like it *heavy-duty.* Pity, I’m off the market," I said in a sultry voice, then I giggled.

"The girls in the dealership office said you were a card, they didn’t exaggerate. Thanks for the fantasy, however brief," he said smiling.

"My pleasure, but I was serious, I do have someone special. Sorry," I confessed.

"He’s a lucky man."

"He knows it, and thanks," I replied.

* * * *

We got to the dealership quickly, nothing like being away from a big city to speed traffic. While the driver unloaded my wounded toy, I walked to the service counter.

"Excuse me, my crew cab was just towed in. Any idea as to how soon it can be repaired?" I asked, the little she-devil that I am.

A woman in her late twenties walked up to the counter.

"I’m Ms. Reinhardt, the service writer and ... Oh my, it’s you! I wasn’t here when you bought your truck and I’ve been hoping I’d be here the next time you came in. What can we do for you, Joanie? I hope it’s not problems with your police special? That truck is supposed to be all but bomb-proof," she asked. It was all I could do not to giggle at her choice of words.

"It’s over here," I said and pointed at the mangled wreck. I silently congratulated my self for not snickering.

"You weren’t driving when *that* happened, were you?" she asked aghast.

"The truck was parked roughly fifty feet from my farmhouse and I was hunkered down in a roadside ditch several hundred feet further away. A previous tenant on the farm was a tad paranoid and placed bombs in all four walls of the farmhouse. We discovered them the hard way. It was the usual stuff, usual for a war zone. There was a trip-wired military fragmentation grenade placed next to glass jars full of metal scrap and a box of old dynamite -- for that little something extra -- in each of the four exterior walls. All of them were backed by steel to send the blast outward, nasty stuff. Can she be fixed?" I asked, knowing what her answer had to be.

"The whole passenger side is caved in. Both tires on that side are flat though surprisingly intact, but then they were the run-flat police tires. The front drive spindles on both sides are bent; the tail gate is torn off and the outer body panels are Swiss cheese. The cab is fully intact, though the glass is etched and cracked -- the designers at corporate will be happy to see how well the armor performed," Ms. Reinhardt said.

She got inside and turned the key.

"Amazing! All the major systems work. Part of the brake system is out but the secondary systems are go and not a hint of trouble with the fuel or fuel-cells -- outstanding," she said with pride.

"What about it, how soon?" I asked.

"We’ll have to order you a new one, probably a month at best," she said.

"I can’t be without a truck that long, Ms. Reinhardt. Can’t you do something? I do have a lifetime free repairs and maintenance deal on the vehicle, no limits," I reminded her, "and what about my custom equipment?"

"I’ll have to ask the dealership owner. I know this was a special deal, but I don’t have the authority to replace a totaled vehicle. This isn’t a typical warranty issue," she explained.

I was tired and cranky and thought she was hemming and hawing. Maybe I wasn’t being fair but I decided to cut out the middleman.

"Get the owner on the phone then," I asked.

"He’s in a meeting at Ford and is unavailable," she replied, that pissed me off -- I got out my cell and dialed a special number.

"Mr. Ford’s personal assistant, how may I help you?" he said.

"I need to speak with Mr. Ford immediately. It’s Joanie," I said.

"He’s in a meeting with the top dealers and asked not to be disturbed," he explained.

"Disturb him, I have a problem that needs resolving at once, between us and not in the press."

~~That was a low blow, Joanie. PMS again?~~

"Joanie, what’s the trouble. My assistant said you were upset?" Mr. Ford replied.

"The service rep, a Ms. Reinhardt, won’t expedite the replacement of my truck. It’s a total wreck and she says it will be over a month. She’s hedging on the custom equipment too," I said.

"Hand the phone to Ms. Reinhardt, please," he requested. He did not sound happy.

They talked for a few minutes. He did most of the talking except for when she described all the damage and how it happened. Towards the end she did less and less talking. I think she was worried.

"Yes, Mr. Ford ... I understand, Mr. Ford, but ... I’m so sorry, Mr. Ford. Of course Mr. Ford ... I’ll see that it’s done as you say," the woman replied to the unheard voice.

She handed the phone back very politely.

"Joanie, I authorized Ms. Reinhardt to replace everything new, including the custom items, but I agree it will take sometime," he said.

"How long? I need a vehicle."

"I’ll see what I can do to rush things, but the first truck was a fluke to be available that fast. I’ll see if it can be less than a month, two weeks if we’re lucky. I told the service writer you can have any vehicle at the dealership as a loaner until your truck is ready," he said

I clipped the phone to my belt, turned, saw *it* and smiled.

"I want this one. Whoa yeah! Come to Mama!" I said and walked over to the most beautiful sports car I’d ever seen.

"But that’s a next generation Ford GT, the previous model sold for over 250 grand!" she exclaimed.

I grabbed my phone from my belt and hit the redial. Mr. Ford picked up directly -- I guess he had the enhanced caller ID.

“Yes, Joanie, what I can I do for you now?” He sounded both upset and amused -- a volatile combination.

“I want *that* car as my loaner,” I said, it was not a camera phone.

“*That* car? Please put Ms. Reinhardt on,” he asked.

She explained or tried to.

“The GT. No sir, not the Mustang GT, *the* GT, the new model with all-wheel electric drive, gravity generator traction assist and the MHD turbo-electric dual-generating power plant,” she said finally. Soon she handed the phone back.

“You sure you don’t want another crew cab?” he asked.

"If I’d wanted another, Toyota makes a fine pickup and their jingle is a catchy tune," I said to Mr. Ford and started humming it.

"Joanie?"

"Sorry, can’t a girl have some fun? Aren’t we supposed to change our minds for no apparent reason? I’m being a tease, I know, but hear me out. Think of the publicity -- a tall, drop-dead sexy young woman driving around in your finest sports car? I think some print ads, TV spots or public appearances with me in it would be covered by our contract. I’ll go to the Detroit Auto Show if I possibly can, I promise. Meanwhile you can brag to the nation’s police how well the truck held up. All that blast damage, the entire side of a two story house falls on top it for-crying-out-loud, yet it runs and not a trace of penetration inside the armored cab! Oh, don’t take this out on the service writer, she was trying before I went all psycho-bitch on her, and she is a hottie,” I confessed then giggled. “Cumon’ Mr. Ford, what do you say? Pretty please?"

Ten minutes later I was driving out of the dealership, smoke pouring from the tires — I’d turned off the gravity generator traction assist for a moment -- as I tore down the road in the GT. I did back off the speed as soon as I was out of sight -- 185mph in a 55 mph zone is a bit much even for me, and I hadn’t begun to test its limits. The prototype holds the land-speed record for four wheeled vehicles.

~~I’m a baad little girl!~~

* * * *

I called Madison that night to check on Mrs. Smith’s condition. She had had all her major surgeries, though lesser ones to reduce scars and to remove the pins and plates helping her bones heal would be necessary down the road. Gin informed me that Donna -- Mrs. Smith -- was a good candidate for some thaumatogical assistance once she finished recovering from her surgeries.

"What do you mean, Gin?" I asked.

"Using magic multiple times on a person can have bad consequences, particularly if powerful magics are used. Mrs. Smith shows no signs of previous significant exposure to magic," she said and I giggled. "Joanie, I’m serious. There are a lot more magic users in the world than you think. Some unscrupulous retailers and employers use people with such powers to manipulate consumers’ tastes. I mean, ten years of 'Tickle Me Elmo' sales, come on! In that particular case it’s subtle, but effective. Ever wonder why Elmo’s song is so captivating?" Gin said.

"Does that mean Pamela Sue Anderson’s success is due to magic?" I asked.

"No, she has a great body to begin with and some top-notch plastic surgeons; silicone is magic in its own right," Gin said and snickered back. "Now as to Leonardo De Caprio ... major mojo was used to boost his career. He can act a little, but face it, he’s a shrimp. He’s too short for me and I’m hardly a Valkyrie like you, Joanie," Gin said.

"I am NOT singing Wagner -- forget it -- no way in hell am I gaining 150 pounds, a triple-chin and wearing that stupid horned helmet, " I said and snickered. "I do understand what you mean, Gin. What’s the deal with Donna Smith and thaumatology?"

"My friends and I think Donna is a good candidate for a magic overhaul. Once she’s healthy we zap her big-time and reset her entire biological clock while repairing as many scars, adhesions and other damage as possible. With luck she’ll be as healthy as before her assault, maybe far more healthy. You saw what I did for Katie," Gin explained.

"Gin, Katie is a bad example; Tom and Tina need their mom, not a Amerasian sister in pre-school," I replied and giggled.

"Joanie, we can custom-tailor the spell. We’ll just make her whole and healthy, maybe shave a couple years off her age. If she’d rather be a teen again, it can be done; it’s not unlike what some sorceresses do to extend their lives and no, I have not *altered* my appearance. I am as my mutation made me, Joanie," Gin said sounding offended.

"I mean no offense. I’m concerned for the twins, they’ve suffered enough. They need stability in their lives but if you honestly believe it’s in her best interest to look that much younger or different do it, but let the whole family decide," I replied.

"Absolutely, sorceress's honor. She’s a nice woman and didn’t deserve what they did ... That’s right, GG didn’t know at the time you two last spoke. They raped her, Joanie, in front of her husband -- just before they broke his skull. Thankfully she was on birth control and they didn’t transmit any STD’s. All that and neither revealed where their kids had been taken -- I’ll be happy to be half the parent they were," Gin said and I wiped my tears.

~~If I get my hands on her torturers …~

"Gin, since we mentioned her, how’s Katie doing?"

"She’s finished transforming; she’s a sweet, bright young girl and full of energy. She thinks and acts like a young girl all the time now, but don’t ever try to hurt her or her friends if she’s around. She’s a tiger; her old military training comes roaring back and she’s adapted it to her new body. Red was teasing me and Katie misunderstood. She knocked Red on her ass -- nearly knocked her unconscious. They’ve made up and Red is a frequent and welcome visitor at my parents. My new *baby* sister loves playing with 'the Amazon lady.' That’s what Katie calls Red; I overheard them the other day. It’s something private between them because I asked Red straight out and she said she couldn’t say. All Red will admit to is it’s a *girl secret* and she can’t tell me; she gave Katie her solemn oath — hope to die and everything. I’ve tried asking Katie, but she giggles and sticks her tongue out at me.

"Katie can read at the first grade level and knows her numbers. She can do some simple addition as well. Mom hopes to get her in the AM Kindergarten program this fall, by then her physical age will be four-and-a-half, mentally she’s six already. She’d test higher academically, but learning to be a girl is so important to her. She’s soaking up everything eagerly and has near perfect recall. I suspect she’ll be this way permanently -- my new sister is a near genius and I’m so happy for her. She can speak entirely in Humong with Mom, it’s pretty basic stuff but she speaks it perfectly. She has a real gift for language," Gin said happily.

"I’m glad it worked out. Did you get the CDs I sent?"

"Katie was so thrilled you remembered her. Her only memories of that terrible day are how brave you were to jump in the water, and how pretty you are. She has your poster up on her door, one of the more tasteful ones, the girl idolizes you," Gin said.

"Tell the gang to keep on searching for the people who did this, I feel so helpless at the moment," I said.

"Don’t worry, Joanie, our best lead has them up near the Canadian border. If they were around, they couldn’t get to her. No one can get to Mrs. Smith. MSG is treating her as one of ours and we stick together," Gin replied.

I had an inspiration.

"Is Donna, I mean Mrs. Smith, up to visitors?" I asked.

"She will be a few days. What are you thinking of Joanie?"

"Could you or, better yet, the Mutant Wing at the hospital put up a couple teenagers for a night or two?"

"It’s possible," Gin replied.

"I’m thinking of flying out Friday night or early Saturday morning, dropping the twins off, then flying on to Iowa. Babs needs a visit and, well ..."

"You’re that horny, huh?"

"That too, Gin, but I simply want to see the Johnsons, for purely platonic reasons. Not that I don’t wish it could be otherwise," I admitted.

"I’ll make arrangements. I take it, Joanie, I’m not to let Donna know?" Gin asked.

"Ms. Carson is accommodating to my wishes, but you never know. Best not get Donna’s hopes up," I said.

"Okay, girl, remember, if you ever change your mind about Eric ..."

"I know -- you, Red and the Andersons all want a shot at me. Why me?" I said, laughed and hung-up.

* * * *

May 02, 2007

I stopped by Administration early to see if I could pull off the weekend trip to the Midwest. It was doable, if I could swap one shift with Security and if Boston PBS could reschedule my Nova recording sessions. Ms. Carson was most supportive.

"I feel like I’m taking advantage of you, Ms. Carson, but I think a visit will do Mrs. Smith and the kids a world of good."

"I agree; you are taking advantage, but for all the right reasons. You have my blessing, but you need to make sure all your duties here are covered during your absence, Joanie," she added.

"I will and thank you," I said and hugged her.

* * * *

I met Pinky for our morning run along with most of my clean-up crew.

"I’m glad to see so many of you here -- why?" I asked.

"It never hurts to exercise. You seem to enjoy yourself, and sweaty spandex is so sexy," said Cheryl, remarkably alert for so early in the morning. "Pinky said she’s noticed more and more students coming out to watch you and your friends run. I hope to get my pick of the voyeurs," she finished.

"In that uniform, you’ll get lots of action; that’s right up there with some of my outfits," I told Cheryl.

~~That’s barely decent. It’s not fair!~~

I decided to give tit-for-tat -- lots of it.

"Joanie, what are you doing?" Tom asked, though I could see he didn’t mind the show.

"Just getting comfortable," I said.

I removed my sport top, leaving myself in my running shoes, tight short-shorts and a sports bra that was almost a bikini top. It was a little cool out but tolerable and no way was I going to be one-upped by anyone. Suzy saw me and turned to Tom.

"WE are running in front of Joanie and if I see you looking back ..." she said and thrust her knee up hard. Tom and everyone else knew were that knee would be aimed at if he did ogle my goodies.

"Suzy, if you do that, he may not stray but you might neuter him. Counter-productive, don’t you think," I said, then broke up in a giggle fit.

WE had a fun run, and I do mean WE. Mystor and Lonnie ran side-by-side and seemed happy together. I don’t think they are a couple, but they do act like friends which is progress. He stopped wearing that awful Goth clothing and make-up. *I’ve* noticed he’s hot looking, as have a lot of other girls. I may have created a monster -- but a good-looking monster. Cindy, Jenny and Pinky ran together for a while. Pinky told me later they were "working on something for the Sabers," but she wouldn’t tell me what it was.

We cleaned up and got dressed while our hangers-on rolled their tongues back in their mouths and tended to their swollen -- well you know.

"Joanie, I haven’t had that much fun in ages. I felt sorry for some of the boys; we had them so wound-up it had to be painful. And the group from Dickenson -- I’ve never seen ... You could poke your eyes out on those. Can we do it again tomorrow?" Cheryl asked and snickered.

"We’ll see, we don’t want to cause too many whiplash cases, hon," I said softly.

Pinky led some of the group to my farm on foot while Suzy got to ride in my GT -- Tom was envious and Suzy was so mature.

"Hey, Tom, eat our dust!" Suzy shouted to him then stuck out her tongue.

"Real mature, Suzy," I said then turned to Chris Anderson who was loading the remainder of my crew into a Whateley van, "Wanna drag?"

I smoked the tires ~~Setting a good example are we?~~ then drove responsibly to the farm. I was willing to show off but I didn’t want to see anyone hurt.

* * * *

We got to the farm and I helped Suzy out. Stan and Morrie were there with Tom Silva and the TOH camera crew.

"WOW, Joanie, what a wreck!" Suzy exclaimed as we walked up to the gutted farmhouse.

"Young lady I’ll have you know I’m in the peak of condition, or would be if I dropped twenty pounds or so. Hi, I’m Tom Silva, and you are?"

"Um, Suzy?" she said hesitantly.

"Don’t worry, we will edit every bit of footage to make sure no one’s name or face gets on the air that shouldn’t be," he said.

"Sorry, I’m Suzy, Joanie’s my friend and I’m here to help out," she said.

"And to earn some spending money or help pay for school. The Academy is very expensive," I explained.

"But Joanie’s paying for me because she’s ... the lady who saved my life and feels responsible, like that Chinese saying," Suzy said.

~~You are one bright girl, Suzy. Nice save.~~

"So your Suzy’s ... sponsor?" he asked.

I whispered back, "I, um, know her aunt. And I feel responsible for Suzy." He nodded his respect.

~~I have got to keep my mouth shut. I’m proud of my niece but if that leaked out ... Idiot! ~~

"They are all my friends -- even Mystor here whom I met when he stripped my clothes off with magic -- but Suzy is a special case. We met while swimming this spring," I said and both Suzy and I giggled.

"I saw your *swim* on TV; I can see why you're Joanie’s friend, Suzy," Mr. Silva said.

"So what’s the deal today?" I asked.

"We used a robotic probe to inspect the house as we talked it over with Mr. Silva. The top of the house will be supported by a cradle the robotics lab is building per Harry’s design -- it will be lifted away and set off to the side. That way we can dismantle the house safely and have the foundation ready in a few days. We’ll clear out the basement and do any necessary foundation improvements -- new buried utilities, drains and such. Fran is willing to do some of her special stone work for us as needed so all we need is a design," Morrie said.

"I was hoping for something that looks historically proper on the exterior but is fully modern and easy to live with inside. Maybe some sort of hybrid ranch-house/Usonian?" I suggested. "Maybe with an attached, heated garage?"

"We’ll have a couple ideas for you by tomorrow, Joanie. Today your crew can concentrate on picking up the work site. Does everyone have on their safety shoes, hardhat and goggles?" Stan asked, and they all nodded. "Good, I have lots of disposable dust masks and work gloves. If yours gets hard to breathe through, or your gloves start to get thin, see me for new ones. If you’re not sure, change them anyway. No one gets hurt, okay?"

Harry Wolfe made a BIG impression on the TOH people, both with his appearance and his knowledge. He showed off the mini-rail system and how he would reroute it to accommodate the changed work site. He demonstrated with a scale model of the anti-gravity assisted crane and cradle system that would be used to disassemble farmhouse.

"We’re using the antigravity lifters as stabilizers, just as on the mini-rail system, but scaled up. Robotics has a huge portable crane donated to us by DARPA. It could do the job alone, the anti-gravs are for additional safety," Harry explained.

"You’re a gadgeteer you said, Harry?" Silva asked, not the least bit awed by Harry’s huge build.

"Oh yes, it means in my case I’m exceptional with machines, in fixing and building them. I instinctively know how they work. Your boat has the beginnings of a head gasket leak," Harry said abruptly.

"How do you know that, and how do you know I have a boat?" Mr. Silva asked.

"The boat I know about because I’ve seen 'This Old House'. The head gasket problem I can smell on your clothes; seawater leaking into a cylinder has a unique smell when it reacts with the hot metal, oil and gas of a failing engine. I have a very good nose," Harry said.

"My mechanic was saying I might need the head repaired in my boat. I am impressed, Harry," he said and Harry beamed.

I began to giggle uncontrollably and couldn’t stop.

"What’s so funny, Joanie?" Mr. Silva asked.

"Your boat's engine or the toilet?" I giggled but calmed down. Mr. Silva laughed.

I noticed Harry looking longingly at my GT.

"Harry, the Ford GT is a loaner. Please don’t play with it," I said.

"I could make it go 30 MPH faster, easy," he said.

"It’s fast enough. I have to go. I’ll leave everything in your capable hands, Stan, Morrie, " I said and drove off.

* * * *

Classes went well that morning, and I got news from Dr. Joshua P. Bakers, Dr. Jean Alden and Dr. Korolev, on my summer *field trip* history seminar.

"This is a list of important events in the history of Whateley Academy and its predecessor institutions that are poorly documented. Circe and Dr. Ophelia Tenent -- Caduceus -- came up with a list of magic hot spots that bear investigation. This should provide ample opportunity for research by yourself and students who sign up for the seminar," explained Dr. Bakers in the most words he’d ever said to me.

"Thank you all for getting back to me so soon," I said.

"We agreed it was a great idea -- your seminar -- and we were inspired," said Jean Alden.

"Ah, the enthusiasm of youth," replied Dr. Bakers.

~~Youth? Jean Alden is over 400 years old, what does that make you, Methuselah?~~

"Sergei, you’ve been quiet," I commented.

"I have a prototype dummy time-travel module for you. The panels are lightweight and elf-contained, to minimize the inconvenience to you. It uses a compact holographic system to alter the visible exterior to mimic whatever you desire," he said.

"Don’t you mean self-contained?" I asked.

"I said elf-contained and I meant it. An electro luminescent film is wrapped tight around a stiff yet lightweight foam core. The film is similar to some of the smart-camo the Army has experimented with. It can automatically mimic its surroundings using its built-in micro-cameras, or assume the appearance of any of many objects stored in its memory. It’s being tested now and should be ready anytime you need it. The tricky bit is faking convincing time machinery, but I should have something soon, Joanie," Sergei explained.

"That sounds good, Sergei. While you work on that, I can do a little preparation. I do need to scout some of these sites and take notes. I don’t want to wing it come class-time," I said.

"I suggest documenting some of the magic hotspots first. You may wish to avoid those for the seminar and Operations can always use the data to aid in planning construction projects," said Dr. Alden.

"Agreed. I’ll see if Charlie is available, I’m still not expert on magic," I said.

* * * *

I contacted the Boston PBS station, and they said the crew at my farm had almost everything needed to record my narration for the Nova special. My Nova producer said she would inform them of my intention to do much of it during the week at Whateley. She got a hold of the station’s floor director and he figured the remote crew would be available for my hosting/narration work by in the early evenings, at which point it’s too dark for outdoor filming. All they needed was a soundproof room and a green screen, both of which we had in the King Annex. A couple hours a night over the two weeks and we would be on or ahead of filming compared to spending the weekends in Boston.

We had a conference call with the camera crew, and they figured we could film from seven to nine PM, giving them time to clean-up, eat and set up after the days filming at my farm. This allowed the Sabers to get in their needed practice sessions. It would be a grind but feasible.

* * * *

I talked with Pinky at the late lunch period.

"I may take the Smiths to see their mom this weekend, leaving Friday late afternoon or early Saturday morning. Could you take care of my cats and ensure the Saturday cleanup crew behaves?"

"Be glad to, I’ll keep George and Gracie safe," she said.

"I hate to leave you alone, but the Smiths need to see each other and I want to visit Babs in Iowa. I could get Lex or someone else to take the smilodons, are you sure?" I asked.

"I have to be on my own sometimes and I have the other Sabers if I get lonely. I’ll be fine; you’re acting like you’re my mom. I promise I’ll be good and you go see Babs. Give Eric a kiss for me, you dirty girl," Pinky said and hugged me.

"I feel guilty."

"Good, maybe you’ll get me a present to assuage your feelings of worthlessness. Something in 22 carat gold or higher should do," she said and giggled.

"So I need to bribe you eh? Okay," I said, and walked away, turning back once to make moose antlers at her and stick out my tongue. Her laughter was all the assurance I needed.

~~I need to check with Senator Joe about those papers I wanted. It’s time to settle the situation with Pinky’s mother one way or the other. ~~

* * * *

I drove back to my farm after my classes, I should say I intended to drive back, when I noticed something odd. There were small plies of stones around my sports car, stacked three atop each other aligned with the points of a five pointed star or pentagram. I knew enough about magic to be concerned. I checked to see if Dr. Tenent or Circe was available but they were busy with classes. I was going to see if one of the Security officers who knew magic was available when I spotted Lonnie walking with Cheryl.

"Lonnie, Cheryl, I need advice, " I called out.

"Sure, what can I do for you," Lonnie said, Cheryl nodded.

"Follow me and see what you make of this, I’m stumped," I said.

We got to my GT, and I pointed out the stones.

"Is someone playing a prank or is this for real? What is it, some sort of magic alarm?" I asked.

Lonnie got out a few crystals from her book-bag and dangled several from what looked like silver chains. Most did nothing but one swung out at a great angle from vertical in the direction of each pile of stones as she walked around the car.

"I’ve seen these in my magic theory class. It’s a simple and rather old-fashioned ward. I’m not a high-level sorceress like Dr. Tenent or Circe, but this is serious stuff," Lonnie said.

"Is Joanie at risk?" Cheryl asked.

"Walk toward the car, Joanie but don’t touch it or the stones."

She did some more scanning -- if that’s what you call it -- while she had me approach and retreat from my car. She did the same with Cheryl and herself then used their combined *charms* on a geeky young boy to do the same for us. I felt sorry for the boy, they used him shamefully. Thought he did get a kiss from each girl so....

"So, Lady Morgana, what’s the deal?" I asked.

"Joanie, be careful with that name, some magic users don’t see the humor in it. The field is a ward and it’s attuned to you and your friends. It reacted in a positive way to your presence, like it was signaling to a friend you were okay. It acted similarly for me and Cheryl, though more like we were unimportant. The young boy was close to getting an unpleasant shock if he’d touched the car. What is odd is the flavor, the color -- I can’t describe how I perceive it better than that -- is strange," she said, struggling for the words.

"How? I’d like to know. Remember, I may have need of such knowledge if this magic storage-cell phenomenon gets worse," I said.

"Magic storage cell?" Cheryl asked.

"Joanie stores magics around her body but they don’t touch her. It’s likely some unique quirk of her warper powers. They are stronger than the last time I noticed, Joanie. Being near so many magic users and mystical objects is feeding the energy into your field faster than it’s bleeding off. It’s not a dangerous level yet, but you have more magic around you than some of the top sorceresses on campus except for people like Sara Waite, Dr. Tenent, or Circe. See, these two crystals of mine react to magic in terms of its magical frequency and energy. The energies around you have combined in a higher frequency and energy level than their original form." She paused and thought.

"This is all very theoretical and I only am starting to study this, but I think you’re not a storage cell, but more akin to a particle accelerator or even a laser. The different magics that were chaotic are becoming coherent, they are *vibrating* at nearly the same frequency and that makes them more powerful. You should make an appointment with Dr. Tenent soon, I mean it. You won’t get hurt but someone around you could. I don’t mean to alarm you. It’s fairly low level yet but under rare circumstances magic has been known to build until it crackles across the skin like St. Elmo’s fire. I remember hearing about a student here who had that problem, but the name eludes me," she said.

"So I’m fine for now?"

"For a while, Joanie. The ward around you car puzzles me; as I said, magic has characteristics -- colors, flavors. This magic used in this ward is alien and very old. I swear it reminds me of a style of magic attributed to India and this was not done by a human. Oh, Joanie, I saw paw prints in the stone dust by the front wheel. It’s something like a cat but not a cat, a weasel of some kind?" she speculated. Lonnie stopped, and tapped me on the shoulder. Her eyes were locked on something.

"Quiet! Look over by the evergreen hedge next to Administration, on the left; that could be it, the magic using animal," Lonnie said softly and in awe, I thought.

"Here goes nothing. Hi there, little one! Looking for me?" I called out as I turned to face the animal -- not fifty feet from us.

It started to run, stopped, turned, stood up on its rear legs and....

"Did you just bow to me, little one? That was ... what was that?" I asked.

"I think that was or is someone’s familiar. An animal that helps a sorceress access her magic and often acts as a bodyguard. I think it was acknowledging you as a sorceress. That is an honor; they tend to be secretive and tightly bonded to their mistress or master. I wonder, there’s a legend of a prankster animal, some call her Miki, supposed to be an orphaned familiar. She’s rumored to have lived on the Whateley grounds for decades -- maybe since as far back as the oldest buildings.

“You should ask Dr. Tenent about Miki, Joanie. She’s an expert on familiars and how they interact with their human partner. She has an intimate knowledge of the Whateley area’s magical heritage. If anyone can figure out what’s going on, it’s the doctor,” Lonnie said solemnly, I choose this moment to break out in giggles.

“You mean the guy with the blue police box? I thought he’s a fictional character?” I said and snickered. Lonnie joined in while Cheryl looked at us as if we’d each grown an extra head.

“What’s so funny about a blue police box?” Cheryl asked.

“I take it you don’t watch a lot of science-fiction TV? I asked.

“I was too busy with my music to watch much TV of any kind.”

~~I’ll have to get her a copy of the show since I’ll be on it.~~

“The more I think of it, the more I'm sure that had to be her, Joanie. Wow, I saw Miki! The rest of my magic theory class will be so jealous when they find out," Lonnie finished.

"How does a familiar get orphaned?” I asked.

"Supposedly, its mistress was killed; strange, familiars normally can’t sustain the magic after the bond is broken. When their mistress is dead, they normally revert to ordinary animals. Miki must be very special to survive so long on her own. You really need to see Dr. Tenant, we’re talking serious magic here.

To Be Continued

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.

Joanie finishes prepping for her trip. Suzy teases Joanie using powers copied from Pinky. Joanie and the smilodons meet Miki. That gets complicated after Joanie repeats a phrase three times. Joanie learns more about sorceresses and their familiars the hard way. She runs into a recovering Anna and May Lee. Joanie stops by Leeann and her cycle mechanic dad and flies to Madison to unite the Smiths. Dr Sara reads Joanie the riot act about Eric. A big rat scares the nurses then speaks to 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. (wibble) Wibble? Oh oh! … As I was saying, 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 contains 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
Words wrestled in lime Jell-o by Itinerant
Thanks to Grover for the use of and assistance with Miki.
Special thanks to Itinerant, Janet Nolan and Karen_J for their helpful criticism of several difficult scenes.
Final proofing by Janet Nolan of GEBPR. This chapter carries the Seal of Approval of the Guild of Evil Blonde Proofreaders, so “You know it has to be bad ®.”

Chapter 4, This Old Farm House -- Fran-o-rama 2, Hey Miki You're So Fine 3, First Christmas — Revisited, Welcome to Adulthood 5, You’ve Got Male

Whateley Academy Dunwich, May04, 2007

May 04, 2007

Mr. O’Conner recovered quickly from his case of *sticker-shock*.

“You okay, Mr. O’Conner?” I asked, as I knelt next to him and checked him for injuries.

He opened his eyes and quickly blushed. He was apologetic in the extreme. I thought it charming but confusing.

“Forgive me, I never intended ... it’s just the shock of how expensive your car was and when I woke I ... Forgive me for … You must think me a pig, Ms. Brown.”

~~Huh? He hasn’t done anythi....~~

Then it dawned on me what he’d been looking at when he woke. And he had gotten an eyeful in full, glorious Cinemascope or was it 3-D?

~~Must have been Cinemascope, ‘cause I’m a 40-D.~~

I redid a couple of the fashionably small -- but clearly not up to the task of restraining my assets -- buttons on my blouse and started giggling, or was it jiggling?

~~Cut that out, Joanie. Just tell the story.~~

“I’m the one who should apologize. No lingering *double vision* is there, Mr. O’Conner?”

“No, but if my wife sees this, I’m toast,” he replied, smiling.

I helped him up, and we resumed filming.

“Oh, the three hundred twenty five thousand is the predicted selling price if this model goes into production. This preproduction model cost between two and three million, not counting development costs. And if you dare faint, the next thing you will see is Harry Wolfe’s hairy chest, which is impressive but not the same,” I said quickly, and snickered.

“This is going to be a fun project ... Um, Joanie?”

“Yes?”

“The TV crew was telling me about ... the magazine and I wondered...”

“Another pervert -- can’t a girl have a few photos taken without guys drooling all over themselves? Excuse me a moment, Mr. O’Conner.” I turned and called out so the entire work site could hear me. “Attention, your attention please, hands up all of you who are interested in seeing my naked body,” I shouted. They all raised their hands, including the busy camera and sound crew. “Pinky, and this is too much, Suzy, not you, too?”

“It’s important to understand the competition? I mean, I have my boyfriend to consider,” she replied. Then she and Pinky laughed.

Suzy came over and whispered in my ear. ”I’ve been practicing my mimic abilities and Pinky let me copy her powers. We *talked* telepathically, and that’s why we raised our hands. Pinky figured you’d get a laugh out of it. Remember, you promised, I get to copy yours someday, Auntie,” she finished and grinned.

~~The minxes set me up, and on short notice too. That’s a relief.~~ I thought, then turned back to face Mr. O’Conner.

"Okay, you get your autographed copy, but after today’s *preview* I should ask you to donate to the Academy.”

“Absolutely! I will, and so will the crew,” he pointed at them, and they all nodded. “And well worth it, I might add,” he said, and we both snickered.

We filmed some additional material, then I drove back to campus in my loaner crew cab.

* * * *

“They are letting you keep the preproduction GT? That is so kewl, I meant cool,” Pinky said, and she bounced a few times.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you spend so much time with Mel this Easter weekend. The sports car is mine whenever I want. In return they wish to display it when I’m not using it and they want to do some ads with me driving. You’ve seen the sort of thing before, Pinky. The wind in my hair, a smile on my face,” then I got an attack of the sillies, “and like my boobies all jiggly in a totally bitchin’ crop-top and me, ah, blowing kissies at the camera. I’m so totally not happy with this, you know. They treat me like I’m some dumb, ah, um, blonde, that’s it, like, you know, whatever,” I did in my increasingly convincing Val speak. I do it so effortlessly, I’m beginning to worry.

“Joanie, stop it! Your mind could get stuck like that, and I’d have to help you put your shoes and socks on in the right order,” she said and snickered.

“I knew I should never have let you borrow my collection of MAD Magazine on CD. You were reading The Planet that went Ape, weren’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah, but that James Bomb spoof -- the scene from their version of Goldfinger with the laser cutting up between his -- I laughed until I started peeing,” Pinky said and snickered.

“I’ll bet you were laughing, ‘and in a very high voice, too,’ Pinky.” She laughed so hard she was crying.

~~ I have never seen her that happy -- it's about time, child.~~

“Pinky, you have the duplicate keys for my room and the King Annex?” I asked after she calmed down and her blush faded.

“On this rawhide boot lace around my neck, Joanie, see? I’ll be real careful not to lose them. Thanks for trusting me to take care of George and Gracie. I’ll make sure they get lots of exercise and clean water and stuff. Suzy said she’d help too. Oh, Jenny, um, Steel Lotus says she’ll check on them just before she goes to bed and right after she wakes so I don’t have to do all the work feeding and cleaning their box. Her roomie is a student maid for Poe, so she has keys to get Jenny in your room.

“You girls have this all worked out, huh?”

“Yeah, I mean yes, Joanie. We’re all meeting to run at 7 o’clock both days and we scheduled a band practice for Saturday at 4 in the afternoon. Sunday we’re having a group study in the library starting at ten o’clock. After that we’ll drag our boyfriends to your room, get drunk, take illicit drugs and have group sex,” Pinkie said, and I rolled my eyes.

“That is so wrong. Shame on you, girl, not inviting me,” I said and pulled to the side of the road, I was laughing so hard.

“We’ll be good, promise,” Pinky said, smiling.

“Take lots of pictures of the orgy, otherwise you won’t know who to send thank you notes to, my little debutante,” I said, and broke up yet again.

* * * *

Classes crawled by in a fog the rest of the morning. My mind was not on my studies. ~~That’s a strange expression. Now I can’t get the image out of my mind of all those courses crawling around in the fog. ‘Oh look, there goes Algebra 201, nice asymptote.’~~ I was in a strange mood all morning. I had trouble paying attention, but managed to get through my classes intact. I ate an early lunch, then left a list of emergency numbers and contacts with Pinky, who had the next lunch. Tom and Tina agreed to meet me by my truck at one o’clock, so I gave the smilodons a quick run outside. I wouldn’t see them for several days, and I owed it to them as their *mommy*. They behaved at first, until the wind shifted and they caught a scent. They froze, then George tore off so fast his leash ripped out of my hand and I nearly fell.

“George! Stay! Heel!” I called out.

He obeyed for a moment, then whatever it was got him going again.

“George, HEEL!” I shouted.

George stopped at the base of a large tree and looked up longingly. Gracie was better behaved, but she was soon staring up that tree, though from a different vantage.

“Have you treed a squirrel, George?” I asked facetiously, while I got a solid grip on both leashes.

“Don’t worry little one, George and Gracie won’t hurt ...”

I stopped in mid-sentence. I saw a familiar face, her whiskers twitching, peer from around the back of the tree some 25 feet up.

“I’m sorry, Miss Miki. My kitties were naughty. George, Gracie, heel, stay!” I said in a firm, but soft, voice.

They moved to my side and sat in a perfect stay, though their eyes and ears were tracking Miki. I sat down next to my smilodons.

“Down, stay!” I said and they lay down on either side of me, their senses still zeroed in on Miki. “Good smilies,” I said, and gave them each a treat and an ear scratch.

“It’s okay, Miki,” I said, but I backed that with a firm grip on their leashes.

I tossed a treat her way. It was one of those lion-cub chow kibbles I’d coated with anchovy paste and then dried. It landed near the trunk of her tree, but a bit to the side as I made a chucking/clucking sound. That’s what I’d call it; I’m not sure what the technical name is. It’s the sound people use to call squirrels to them to give them peanuts. Miki came down slowly, stopping several times to check on my cats. She hopped down the last few feet, grabbed the treat and scampered back to the first large branch some 15 feet up. I gave each of my smilodons a treat and rubbed the side of my face against theirs. Miki sniffed the treat, then ate it eagerly. I made that chuck-cluck sound again and tossed several treats, each progressively further from the tree trunk.

~~Yum, yum, anchovy frosted cat food, though some of those snack-mixes with the baked-on Worcestershire sauce can’t be that different. Maybe I should try one ... Ah, maybe not.~~

The mongoose looked at me, and I thought it nodded its head in approval, but then everything I knew about this animal was strange. She -- I assumed it was a she from what I’d been told of the legend -- came steadily towards the treats, eyeing George and Gracie, who had their *radar locked*. I spoke calmly to my cats and to Miki, trying not to spook any of them. When she bent to pick the first treat George tensed but a quick, “George, stay,” calmed him.

Miki scampered back to the tree and ate her treat by the trunk. It was odd, but I sensed she was intensely happy despite her wariness of my smilodons. She returned for a second treat and only retreated part way. George and Gracie stayed still; if anything they were gradually relaxing, so they got treats as a reward.

~~I’ll need to make more treats soon, they sure do the trick. I realize Miki is a mongoose and not a person, but I swear she is about to dance for joy or whatever mongooses do when they are happy. This is getting weirder by the minute.~~

Miki came for the closest treat; she was within ten feet of us. George and Gracie watched intently, but without seeming ready to attack. If anything, my *cats* relaxed further. Miki sat up on her haunches and ate almost daintily. She deftly cleaned her fur after, clearly a fastidious animal with regard to her grooming. Pinky and I gave the smilodons daily brushings. My *kittens* groomed themselves and each other frequently, yet their fur was not near as lustrous as Miki's. The mongoose’s coat seemed to glow in some indefinable way to my eyes but then Miki was no ordinary animal.

~~I must be nuts but George and Gracie are acting like Miki is off the menu, not a threat and maybe even family. Don’t tell me *I* sent them an empathic message like Pinky does? I don’t think I did, did I? I don’t even know how.~~

I was feeling good over how well this was going, and I got bold. I gave my kitties each a treat then held a treat in the tips of my thumb and index finger.

I made that silly noise again and said softly, ”Miki, treat; I won’t bite.” I held very still.

She moved towards me, stopped, stood up on her haunches again and did a slow, deep, formal bow, like a visiting dignitary would give to a monarch. It seemed to go for some length of time, and she started making a series of soft noises that had a repeating pattern to them. It was hypnotic; I was fascinated by her action. I found myself mimicking her motions and sounds. I found this activity increasingly pleasant, almost enthralling. I felt calm and safe as my mind tried to make sense of it.

~~It's as if she is saying a formal greeting ... No, it’s more like a prayer or a chant. This is mondo weird, but I’m stumped for another explanation.~~

“My, you’re a polite soul. I'd love to be your friend, Miki. Treat?” I said softly. I tossed two of the last treats to my cats with my free hand. I focused on Miki, and I vaguely remember saying “Yes, I agree, I agree, I agree.” I had a sense that something wonderful would happen, but only if I agreed. Miki came forward, touched the treat, there was this tingle, her paws touched my hand and ...

* * * *

It’s difficult to recall with clarity, but I remember a brilliant light and this tsunami of sensations. They were all mixed up like I was smelling colors, hearing odors, seeing sounds, tasting textures -- it was right out of a 60’s drug *trip*. I admit I’d had a large coffee that morning, but nothing else, I swear! Well, I did put a few ounces of skim milk in it but no sugar. Okay, one packet. I’m weak, so sue me. Through it all, despite my disorientation, I got this feeling of unconditional love, respect and immense relief. It was as if a terrible ordeal was over, and somehow I was responsible for ending it.

I felt someone shaking me and saying something, but it was all garbled. Slowly I thought I could make out bits of it. Though I knew something was wrong, I wasn’t concerned; I was in ecstasy. The last time I’d felt this good was when I’d fantasized about Eric and I doing, you know, it, while I, um ... practiced. I’m sorry if it upsets you dear d/j/w readers but it’s all I *can* do with Eric until he reaches the age of consent. I imagine ... no, I know he fantasizes about me as well, he’s admitted it recently. Eric was all upset when he told me, like he thought it was wrong. He was afraid I’d be upset.

“Eric, if we did it physically it would be wrong both legally and ethically. However, your imagination is yours to do with as you please. That you think of me pleases me no end, dear. Your selecting me as the woman of your dreams is an honor, Eric. You could have pursued any of your classmates, but you chose me, a girl you knew you could not have until you were much older. I wish we could be intimate, but it’s not right or legal to do so at your age. Be patient, and it will work out. I promise you will not be disappointed when the time comes. Exhausted, yes, sore, yes, your ears ringing from my exuberant screams, yes, but disappointed, never,” I remembered telling him and feeling very naughty at the time.

~~Freud would have a field day with Eric and I. He could have written chapters about our relationship. Be honest, Girl, he could have written a book on you alone.~~

Someone continued to shake and call to me; gradually I rejoined the living.

“... What’s wrong with you....? Wake up, plea ... JOANIE, are ... okay?’ Pinky shouted at me. It sounded like a distant radio station with every few words dropping out.

“Wha -- huh? Why you shouting?” I managed to say.

My head felt like I had cotton jammed up there. My thoughts were sluggish and difficult to hold on to. I tried to sit up, but gave up on that fool idea as I was very dizzy.

“Pinky, stop ... world from spinning,” I said, and she slowly raised me to a sitting position where, to my surprise, I felt better.

“What happened? I was walking past, and I saw you collapse. I ran to you, and a strange animal shook itself and ran away. It’s watching us from up in a tree now. Were you attacked by a rabid animal, ‘cause it sure ran funny, like it was dizzy or sick? I was so scared, but I managed to run to the nearest emergency box and call Security. We’d have got you trained help sooner, but George and Gracie would let no one near you except for me. The EMTs were about to shoot them with a trank rifle when I got the kitties to relax,” she explained, worry in her voice.

~~They wanted to use a trank rifle on my babies? Somebody is going to get an earful from me — poor kitties.~~

The EMTs checked me out thoroughly though it was not easy. George and Gracie were growling and hissing whenever the EMTs got too close to me. They were seriously unhappy with anyone getting near to their stricken *mommy*. They’d grown since I’d rescued them, to 25 and 22 pounds respectively. In most ways the sibling smilodons were still kittens, cute as could be, but powerful and intimidating to the unfamiliar. Pinky calmed my nervous smilodons and with her help the EMTs got me to medical.

* * * *

They poked and prodded and drew blood samples, yuck! I felt better quickly; whatever had affected me was wearing off.

~~Go, regen, go!~~

I did notice a few of the staff and students were blurry around the edges, like the turbulence of their body pushing the air aside as they walked was faintly visible to me. I said as much to Dr. Tenet when she was called.

“Dr. Tenet, why are you glowing like that? It’s hard on the eyes, it’s so bright. Were you doing a magic experiment that went wrong?”

“Glowing? You see me glowing? Describe what you see, please; this is important,” she asked, looking concerned but pleased.

I described what I saw, then she had me describe what led up to my seizure. She got out several crystals; I recognized a few from when Lonnie scanned the wards around the GT. One crystal glowed intensely bright as she brought it near, particularly on one side of me. When she did that, I thought I saw a faint line extending from my body out of the examination room. She handed several crystals to me; a couple glowed faintly, and one of them began pulsing slowly. I thought one of them glowed brighter the longer I held it. She looked at me, confused but relieved.

“Eh, what’s up, Doc?”

You can guess the voice I used. Hey, it worked for Mel Blanc after his near fatal car crash.

“Joanie, stop that!” Dr. Tenent said and laughed. “What the tests and my own senses tell me is you bonded with a familiar. Almost certainly Miki from the unusual *signature* of the link between you and your descriptions of what happened,” she said smiling.

“Link? And what’s with the funny stuff I’ve been seeing. You’re still glowing you know,” I said. It was fainter, but I *knew* she was glowing like a nightlight. Then I saw myself in a mirror. I raised my hand, and I saw the same thing.

Wait a minute, I’m glowing. This is too Twilight Zone for me.~~

“Joanie, I’m smiling because you’re a bit like me; you’re a sorceress. Not necessarily a powerful one, not even a typical one; you are decidedly one-of-a-kind. The *funny stuff*, as you put it, consists of magic auras and a type of ley line that connects you with your familiar. With a familiar you don’t need to worry about trapping excess magic in those odd warper fields of yours. She’ll act as your safety-valve,” she explained.

I told her that I could see myself glowing, and that her glow wasn’t so bright anymore.

“That’s likely your senses adjusting to *seeing* magic. I was so bright before because your newly awakened senses were overly sensitive.

“What do I do now?”

“See me when you come back from your trip. It won’t do you or your familiar harm to be apart, though you may sense each other's emotions at times. It will be strange until you get used to it. Let Miki make the first move, she’s the expert in this. Don’t worry about how to communicate, your familiar will find a way. Familiars often communicate via empathy and telepathy though sometimes they can speak. The bond and the magic make this possible. A familiar may appear to be *just* an animal, but it is far more.

“The bond appears much as I expected it would be. You are linked close enough to sense each other’s feelings but in an indirect fashion with your warper field as a buffer of sorts. Your description of how you felt while out of it confirms the empathic/telepathic connection. The crystal scans show a strong bond between Miki and your aura with a weaker one between you and Miki directly. That link is why you can sense some magic, and it may let you use magic with training. You could eventually do useful magic, or you might never be much better than a stage magician. How strong the link becomes depends on you and Miki, but you are not so tightly bound that the death of one would endanger the other. That you can see me glowing is proof you can sense magic, dear.”

“What of Miki, and the regulations prohibiting importation of mongoose to the US? Ms. Hartford has ordered her *removal*. Is spending time with me as my familiar putting Miki at risk?” I wiped a tear from my eye involuntarily.

“You are upset, aren’t you? Brave Joanie, the mutant super, scared for the life of a small furry animal. That explains your smilodons,” she said and smiled at me. “I’ll help with the paperwork -- as a sorceress’s familiar, Miki is protected from that law. Also she was here long before the law was drafted so she could be grandfathered in, exempt in other words. I’ll get you a temporary card, signed by Circe and myself, which should protect her. Keep it with you at all times. You may need to get her a small harness or collar for identification purposes and to obey leash laws -- not that a familiar will stray,” she said.

Dr. Tenent excused her self and left the room. If there is one thing I love more than anything else, it’s waiting around doing nothing. You believe me, don’t you? Okay, I got bored, fast. I’m allowed to, I’m a teenager; my body certainly is. As to my mind, the jury is out. Before anyone thinks of saying my mind is out-to-lunch, be advised. Under such circumstances I am not responsible for my actions.

As I was saying, I spent some time examining myself and the room. I noticed some objects *glowed* to my senses. They were mostly objects I recognized as some of Dr. Tenent’s mystical *tools*. Most objects looked the same to me before and after my *bonding* with Miki. To my senses I still was lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, colors swirled around me in fascinating patterns. I noted one color predominated over all others, though I can’t find the proper words to describe it. It was definitely a female color: I am sure of that. If I concentrated I could *see* a thread, for want of a better word, connecting me to something beyond the room.

~~Must be part of my bond with Miki. I think … no, I *know* there is intelligence on the other end of this *thread*. Weird, but it was to be expected given how today has gone. Cummon Fate, bring it on! Weird comes in threes doesn’t it?~~

After an hour or so — really 20 minutes, it just seemed longer — Dr. Tenent returned with Circe who did a few tests of her own. She quickly confirmed Dr. Tennet’s diagnosis. What she said next startled me but then Circe has a way of unsettling people. Fortunately she unsettled me in a positive way; she was friendly. Circe is not a bad person; she only comes off as aloof and imperious. She is often so enigmatic she appears to be superior or condescending but I think that’s a tradition among the masters and mistresses of the magic arts. I must admit if the stories I’ve heard about her are true, Circe has earned the right to act smug.

“Welcome to the Sisterhood, Joanie,” Circe said and smiled.

“Sisterhood?” I asked.

“Miki’s late mistress was one of the last of a magic cult from old India. They were dedicated to keeping a great evil from entering the human realm. You are now an heir to their legacy. Don’t worry, we’ll help you, and the demon they fought is still safely confined in the tomb they prepared 150 years ago. Charlie Lodgeman gave us his report, and maintaining the integrity of the warded tomb confining the demon is a high priority. I have confirmed the nature of the demon the Sisterhood imprisoned, and I am impressed at their feat. Joanie, Miki is the last living witness to the Sisterhood’s sacrifice. That she chose you as her mistress is an honor not to be taken lightly. She must have sensed something special in you to bond.”

This was getting too heady for me.

~~Circe feels I’ve been honored? What did she say, exactly? … ”An honor not to be taken lightly,” whoa, this is getting way spooky for me. I’m little old Joanie, not Joan of Arc though Jane Wieden was cute as Miss *of Arc* in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I wonder what PETA’s stand on familiars is? … Wait a minute, what’s this about the Sisterhood?!~~

“Calm yourself, this is nothing to be worried about. It’s not like you’re being nominated as a saint, *Joan*. Sorry, I can sometimes read minds. Take your friends to see their mom; visit your Iowa family. See me when you get back … and don’t worry — children!” Dr. Tenent said as we finished.

* * * *

On the way out of medical I bumped into May Lee and Anna, and I do mean bumped into. I had to grab Anna hard to keep us from falling. I saw who I’d nearly trampled, and my heart soared; she looked so happy, if startled.

“I’m so sorry; I wasn’t ... Anna! May Lee! I apologize for not keeping in touch. Anna, did you start your treatments? You look much happier,” I asked, embarrassed.

~~Anna looks almost normal. She must have had surgery, and I wasn’t there to hold her hand, damn. Good friend I am, jeese.~~

“I had surgery a couple days after you last saw me.”

“I should have been there to wish you luck and keep you company after. I’m sorry, Anna, that was uncaring and rude.”

“Don’t feel bad, Joanie. Whateley sent Anna to a specialist at Johns Hopkins. You couldn’t have been there, and they arranged for me to sleep in her room. You have a lot on your plate, and you are doing more than enough by paying for this. You can’t be everything to everyone," May said, and hugged me.

“The surgeon took out the breast implants and the contraceptive implants they’d overdosed her with,” May Lee explained. I was horrified, and it showed.

“I knew they drugged you and had you on high-dosage birth control, but an overdose using implants?”

“Whateley medical wondered why my hormone levels wouldn’t come down, The doctors found I’d been given several times the recommended dose of implantable contraceptives. The hormones and drugs kept me confused, compliant and primed for sex; I couldn’t help myself. I was at risk for serious complication, like blood clots or liver damage if they had been in much longer. As the surgeons at Johns Hopkins were removing my implants it made sense they do the other surgery at the same time. The breast implants were so big the doctors put in adjustable implants in their place and have slowly deflated them so my skin can adjust. I’m wearing a special compression bandage to help in this. It feels real odd, like someone is massaging my breasts. They are doing this to minimize scarring and adhesions. It’s working too; I’m starting to look like myself!”

"You look good, Anna, what’s next?” I asked.

“They remove the adjustable implants next weekend. After I heal for a couple weeks Whateley’s thaumatologists will craft spells to grow the tattoos out of my ski.; it uses the body's own ability to encapsulate foreign objects, like with a thorn. This will take a week or more, but those awful tattoos will be gone. There are quicker methods, but they risk serious side-effects or damage to the skin. After all traces of magic wear off, they will give me a magical tune-up to restore my body to its pre-surgery state. By mid-summer, you’ll never know I was ever touched by those creeps. I’ll be a virgin, in my body at least. Thank you, Joanie,” Anna said and hugged me.

“All I did was pull a few strings; you have to suffer through all the treatments. What of that boyfriend who didn’t support you?” I asked, regretting it immediately. “I shouldn’t have asked that. Don’t answer, Anna. Do you forgive me?”

“I forgive you, Joanie. I think I should tell you, seeing how much you’re helping. He came to see me in the hospital. His parents believed I was damaged goods, and assumed I got into pornography voluntarily. He claimed they pressured him to break it off. They are very traditional, so I’m inclined to believe him. He felt his honor required him to tell me to my face we were through. He contacted May Lee and she agreed he should see me. When he came to my room, May read him the riot act and so did my surgeon. They spent a long time explaining everything that had happened to me was not of my free will. He told his family, and they formally offered to renew the offer of marriage. I told them I would have to think about it, as their snap judgment wounded me,” Anna said and giggled.

“Good! Make the jerks suffer. They showed their true colors when forced to by a crisis. Personally, I might not forgive them or him and would look elsewhere for love, but that’s me. If you love him, you’ll find a way. If not, grind him in the dust and find yourself someone worthy of you. I’ll lend you the boots to do it. Stiletto heels are great for stomping on a man’s feet,” I said, snickering.

“You are vicious, Joanie. Remind me never to get on your bad side,” May said. “I saw your sports car the other day. What did you do to get that?”

“I prostituted myself,” I said and laughed. “I’m doing ads for Ford, so ...”

“Oh you!

* * * *

I returned to my dorm, snagged my pre-packed overnight bag, Les Paul, and mini practice amp, then hurried to my truck. It was a little past one but given what happened with Miki and I, not bad. At the last moment I realized I wanted a ball cap and aviator sunglasses I’d put in the bag and got them out.

~~I need to wear this hat and my kewl shades. After all I have the image of Ex-Wisconsin egotists to uphold.~~ I looked at my reflection in one of the trucks mirrors. ~~Oh yeah, all I need is a landing craft and a corncob pipe. Douglas MacArthur, eat your heart out.~~

Tom and Tina were waiting along with most of the Sabers and my cleanup crew.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have classes?” I asked.

“So we snuck out of class early, Joanie. It’s almost the break between class periods, and our teachers know it’s important we see our friends off. Tom, Tina, you be brave for your mom; she needs you,” said Cheryl, surprisingly emotional for her.

We all gave the Smith twins hugs, even Mystor, though very carefully as he and Tom were the only guys.

We got ready to go, and Mystor handed me my guitar then placed my bags in the crew compartment.

“What have you got in here? You women and your obsession with clothes! My bag would weight half this. Oh, I closed it; you’d left it open, Blondie,” he said and laughed.

“Keep talking like that, and you’ll never get to see any of us out of them,” I replied.

“But I saw you naked and up close, Joanie; that will satisfy me for a long time. Oh, here’s the doll I made out of your clothing in the magic class. I can’t change it back, I tried, but since you’re visiting your Iowa friends maybe Mel would like it? I heard you talk about how much you like her. I had Dr. Tenent examine the doll, and it’s safe to handle. There are no dangerous magic residues remaining,” Mystor finished and handed me the doll. He had thoughtfully placed it in a colorful gift bag.

“That’s a great idea; thanks. Thank you all for seeing us off. Behave yourselves, and I want film of the orgy, *K*?” I said.

They looked at me, confused, until Pinky broke out in giggles.

We got in the crew cab and as I prepared to start the engine I said, “I shall return!” and drove off, snickering so bad I almost had to pull over and stop.

“Do I want to know what any of that was about?” Tom asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Pinky told me, silly, at least about the orgy. I’ll explain,” Tina said to her brother as we drove past my farm and on to Berlin.

* * * *

At the airport we discovered we were early for our charter; it had been delayed by weather. We had time to waste so I drove the short distance to town and the cycle dealer. I made sure to grab the poster in a mailing tube I’d brought along. I’d wanted to check on the little girl I’d met back in December for some time. First there was another girl I wanted to see.

“Where’s Julie Anne?” I asked an unfamiliar office worker.

“She only works on Saturdays and semester breaks. Julie has class at the local state university campus -- just turned 18 and already in college. What can I do for you, Ms.? ...” she hesitated then looked at me hard and smiled. “I’m guessing your name is Joanie?”

“I’m passing through and thought I should stop by. I’m flying my friends here to see their mom; she’s in a hospital out west. Is Isaac in?”

“He’s in the shop. I hope your friends’ mother is okay?”

“She’s getting better, but they miss each other; excuse us,” I said, and walked to the repair shop.

* * * *

“Anyone home?” I called, and was almost immediately pounced on by a squealing young school girl.

“Joanie, you lied! You are no elf. You are an angel,” Leeann said and hugged me tight. It reminded me of the previous time she’d hugged me. It was last December, and she was an unhappy child who desperately missed her late mother. This time she wasn’t sobbing as she held me, she giggled instead. “Thank you for what you did before Christmas. Daddy and I talked a long time. I cried, and he cried. Thanks for the cookies; you are a good baker. I see a lady ‘chiatrist, and we talk all about my mommy and dad, and why maybe I feel like I do. Daddy comes sometimes, too. I feel so happy, and it’s because of you. I showed my friends your picture and note, and they were so jealous and said what a nice lady you are,“ she said and paused for breath.

~~Shades of Mel, here.~~ I thought.

I backed off some and looked at her. She’d let her hair grow. It was still short, but definitely in a girl's style. Her clothes, though not girly-girl, were noticeably female.

“You’re wearing a skirt and a blouse, Leeann. Whose idea was it, dear?” I asked.

“Mine, silly elf lady,” she said and giggled. “I wish you were a real elf; you were funny,” she said.

“But there are elves, Leeann. They are called the Fey, but they are what the legends are based on. We have one at our school; she’s a student and very pretty. Here, this is for you,” I said and handed her a poster from the tube in my hand.

It was one we sold in our school store. It was a larger copy of the photo of Nikki Reilly in the Whateley brochure. Leeann unrolled it and her eyes went wide.

“I see her big violet eyes, and her pointy ears; she is a real elf. Thanks for the poster, but she’s not as pretty as you, Joanie,” Leeann said and grinned.

“I’m glad you like it, and thanks for saying I’m that pretty. I’m relieved you’re not sad anymore. I can see you’re all bubbly which is good; I like seeing people happy. Leeann, these are my friends, Tom and Tina. They’re fraternal twins and schoolmates of mine at the mutant school," I explained.

“Real mutants like you, Joanie?”

“Their powers are different, but they are mutants and nice kids,” I replied. “Why don’t you three talk while I see your dad, okay?” I asked, and she nodded and went over to my friends.

* * * *
I turned and walked over to her father.

“Isaac, Leeann seems much better.”

“She is. That talk we had after you did the elf bit broke through the wall. She has her bad days, but she’s like I remember before my wife ...”

“That’s good news about Leeann, Isaac. Are you feeling better?”

“I am; I’m dating again. It’s a girl Julie Anne introduced me to, Carol, the new office gal here. She was Julie’s babysitter, and she knew my wife. They were in school together, but Carol was a year behind my wife. So far so good, Joanie, she and Leeann get along, and she’s a good influence on her. I know nothing about girl’s fashion and all the things she needs to grow into a woman. How are you? I saw the news a while back when you were at a school dance. Are you still in contact with the young man you danced with? You looked the perfect couple to me, Joanie,” he added.

“I, ah ...”

“Daddy, Joanie has a boyfriend!” called out Leeann excited.

~~Thank you Mr. and Miss Quisling.~~

“I like him a lot, Leeann, but he’s still in school so we can only be friends. Don’t tell anyone, ever; some people could make a lot of trouble for him and me if they knew,” I asked her.

“Joanie may look like a high school girl, but she’s 49 and the nice boy -- the one you thought was good looking -- is in his teens, Leeann. When he’s a little older then it will be okay for them to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but for now they are good friends only,” Tina said, and very nicely I thought.

“He’s good looking?” I asked.

“Leeann saw the video of Eric and you dancing. She said Eric was dreamy,” Tina replied.

“Dreamy? And you are seven years old?”

“He is. Eric looks like a TV actor. You were very pretty in that dress, Joanie.”

“Thank you, you look pretty too. Oh, Isaac, I’d like a sidecar for my old Harley. I could research and find one, but I’m so busy these days. Could you locate one or see if the plans are available to build one from scratch?”

“I’ll see. Harley was amazed when they saw the pictures of your old bike We sent them one of your old tires, we kept the other for display. I wouldn’t be surprised if they contacted you seeing as you're doing ads for Coke and Ford,” Isaac said. He hesitated then spoke. “I heard you’re going to be in a magazine this summer?”

“How did you learn that?” I asked knowing it had been in numerous newspapers and in the electronic press.

“Entertainment Tonight announced you’d posed for Playboy for a record fee, and that you’re donating it all to charity. Can I ...?”

“Not another autographed copy?”

“Well, that would be welcome, but I was hoping Leeann and I could have our photo taken with you as a remembrance?”

He called in Carol, who took our picture then the twins and I took off for the airport.

* * * *

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman. Sorry for the delay, we bucked strong headwinds getting here. That same weather system will give us favorable winds on our flight to Wisconsin, so we should be in Madison on time. You are?” the copilot asked.

“Tom Smith and my sister Tina, and this is our friend who arranged the charter, Joanie.”

“You again?” the copilot asked rhetorically. We knew each other well.

“Hi! You get that embarrassing bulge taken care of?” I asked and snickered.

“I am sorry I came on to you, Ms. Brown. That was unprofessional on my part. The pilot gave me a lecture after that flight. My ears are still burning,” he said.

“He should have. I did get a good laugh out of your discomfort, sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ve had some interesting dreams since then, thank you,” he replied.

“Just as long as they are dreams, Mister,” I said and snickered.

* * * *

We made great time, and arrived in Madison mid afternoon. Gin in her PT was our ride to the hospital.

“Tom, Tina you look great. Joanie here hasn’t been filling your mind full of strange, perverted thoughts has she?” Gin asked.

“Joanie’s been great to us. I’m in her band with a fun bunch of other students. My brother has no musical talent, but he helps us move stuff and is dating Joanie’s niece,” Tina said with pride.

‘Tom and Suzy are dating already?” Gin asked, surprised.

“Maybe it’s something in the water, but they are an item. Tom is a gentleman, mostly, though Suzy is a junior me. Minxes must run in the family,” I said and snickered.

“How’s Ms. Smith?” I asked.

“Don … I mean Ms. Smith is a fighter. She’s doing great, and insists we all call her Donna. She so nice to us and rarely complains despite her pain. I wish all patients were like that. Joanie, Dr. Sara mentioned your thoughts about where Tom and Tina got their mutant genes. The tests show most came from their mom. I’ve seen natural mutants with fewer so-called mutant genes. Your suggestion is possible, but we’ll talk it over with the whole family now that they are here,” Gin said.

“Tom, Tina, what if your mother could be a mutant like you? Does that sound like a good idea?” Gin asked.

“Mom could be like us?” Tom asked.

“Yes, and we could make her young again. Young enough to be your older sister or make the three of you triplets,” she said and the twins gasped.

“Your mom needs to hide from these bad people as much as you two do. I can alter your mom with magic. I can even change her appearance, skin color, eyes, ethnicity, and body type -- the works. It would help her hide, and let her start fresh after the terrible things the kidnappers did to her and your late father. Think about it,” Gin asked.

* * * *

We arrived at the Mutant wing of the University of Wisconsin Hospital well before dark. We entered through a secure staff garage. After we were cleared through security, Gin took me aside.

“Joanie, something is bothering Dr. Sara, and it’s just happened recently. She says nothing is wrong, but it was such a change from the love struck Miss Free-spirit she’s been of late. Maybe you can get through to her. I’m concerned,” Gin added.

“Absolutely! She’s my substitute mother, and I owe her. I’ll find out, Gin,” I replied, and Gin looked relieved.

We arrived at Donna’s room. I was happy to see Big Red on duty. She gave us all warm hugs and inspected my tonsils with her tongue.

~~She’s so conscientious in her duty to her patients, or is it she still carries a torch for me?~~

“Your mom’s pretty beat up; don’t let it scare you, but don’t lie either. Your mom wants the truth at all times. As bad as she looks, she’s getting well. It will be awhile before she’s fully recovered, but she will recover completely. She can’t talk real loud because her jaw is wired shut to help it heal, so keep your voices down, okay?” Red explained.

“We will, Ms. Red,” Tina said for them both, and they walked in the room. I watched from just outside the door. I could see them at the side of her bed.

“Mom?” Tina called out.

The poor child was crying at the sight of her injured mom but was smiling as well. I saw Tom stiffen up then smile, a tear or two running down his face. I was so proud of my two young friends.

“Tina? Tom? Thank god!” she mumbled. I walked away to give them some time alone.

“Joan, just the person I wanted to see; follow me,” Dr. Sara said. Gin was right, Sara looked unhappy.

* * * *

She led me into her private office and locked the door behind us.

“What’s wrong, Sara? You seem so unhappy. Can I help in anyway?”

“*You* can help alright, *Joan* ... What the hell were you thinking?” she snarled at me.

~~...?!...~~ I couldn’t think, I was in shock.

“Who are you? What are you? I thought I could trust you -- that you were a responsible adult -- then you pull this. You must be out of your mind. Sex with an under age boy! Do you want to go to prison, Joan? I’d bet you’d like that, you slut!” She was shouting at me.

“But, Sara, I ...”

“Don’t you DARE call me Sara!” she screamed. I had never seen her so angry before. I couldn’t recall her ever being angry.

I got a momentary image of Eric and I being intimate and getting caught in the act. The look in his face as I was arrested was heartbreaking; he seemed almost catatonic. I felt this wave of sadness, anger and disappointment hit me from everyone I knew, particularly Sara. It was as if she’d slapped me in my mind. Then I felt Eric’s despair and thoughts of suicide. I got an image of him breaking into a gun cabinet and … My world had been blown asunder. It hurt terribly, more than I had ever hurt in my life. I burst into tears, I felt rejected by her -- like a child disowned. All I could sense was disappointment and disgust bordering on hate in place of the love she’d so freely gave me, and I couldn’t stand it. I had failed Eric. I’d failed my friends. I had failed Sara, and I had failed myself. I wanted to die. I curled up in a ball in the corner of her office, terrified and confused.

~~How could Sara think that? … Ghod, what have I done to hurt her so? … I hate myself. Sara will never forgive me.~~

When I realized what I had done, what I had almost done, and what I was likely to do if things didn’t change, the dam burst. The words poured out of me almost subconsciously. “I love Eric. I would never hurt him. We almost did it, -- I mean have sex -- but it was an accident. Ghod, I wanted him so bad. We didn’t do anything other than touch each other inappropriately, but we wanted to make love and it’s WRONG! I’ll breakup with Eric, I’ll never see him again. I’ll sign an oath to that effect. I’ll break all contact with him and his family, Sara. Please don’t hurt him!” I cried, tears streaking down my cheeks.

I felt her hands touch me. I flinched and twisted away from her.

“Leave me alone! I’ve failed you and you hate me for it! Ghod, I hate me. I’m a worthless piece of slime,” I shouted and sobbed.

Sara got on the floor and hugged me fiercely; she wouldn’t let go despite my thrashing to get away. I felt her kiss me on the cheek, and my fear and anger began to fade.

“Forgive me, Joanie. Please forgive me, dear. I didn’t want to do that but it was the only way I could be certain. I will never hurt you again, ever. How could I? I love you. I know you find that hard to believe after what I just did; Joanie, but I do love you. This was a test; it was hard, but necessary. I had to force you to react instinctively. You know I’m an empath. I needed to observe how you would react when threatened with the loss of Eric and of your dreams. I didn’t want you rationalizing; I needed to know your heart.

“I’m so sorry I entered your mind, dear, but those terrifying thoughts were all yours. I simply allowed them to break free into your conscious mind. I felt them along with you. I wish I hadn’t needed to do it, but it was necessary. I did this as much for Babs as for Eric and you. And I did it for me. I love you too much not to have, Joanie. Hate me if you must, but I had to save you,” she said, her demeanor soothing and remorseful.

“But it hurt! I thought you loved me!” My anger rebounded.

~~She betrayed me. The woman I’ve come to love as if she was my mother betrayed me!~~

“I’m so sorry, Joanie, I know the emotional wounds will take time to heal, but I do love you and so does Babs. She called me after you told her to talk with Eric about this Easter. He admitted to her he wanted to make love to you. In his dream -- as you two snuggled -- it seemed real. He thought you really were making love then he woke. It was as if the dream had come true. He stopped when he realized what was happening, but he wanted you and was ecstatic you wanted him.

“That you both stopped, and physically it never went beyond what they used to call heavy petting, reassured us, but the strength of Eric’s feelings worried Babs and me. Eric admitted he’s had dreams since where it feels so real he can’t be certain that you two haven’t had sex. Rationally he knows, but subconsciously he’s not certain anymore. Babs thought you sounded unsure of your intentions when you last spoke with her. That worried her too, as she always could *read* your intentions before, but not that time. Babs may not be a mutant but she is a keen observer and listener having been raised in a political family. Sometimes I’d swear she‘s an empath,” Dr. Sara stated, still holding and gently rocking me like I was her baby. It was both comforting and somehow repugnant. There was a war raging in my subconscious. Something was wrong but what was it?

“I felt I had lied to Babs after we finished speaking. I’d felt that way after I talked with you and said it was all under control. I’m so sorry I lied to you, Sara. I don’t want to lie, and not to either of you ladies. What do I do now? What do Eric and I do? This is out of control,” I replied, sniffling.

“Babs, Eric, and you will have a long talk when you get to Iowa. You need to slow things down. Be a girl and a boy who are friends first, then you can progress to girlfriend and boyfriend. Take care not to be alone when you are tired and your thinking is impaired, and absolutely no alcohol or drugs -- that could be disaster, even given how fast your regen burns them off. I know you wouldn’t, but some kid might spike things at a party thinking it will liven-up things.

"I *read* your thoughts when I tricked you. No, that’s not right. I *read* your thoughts when I lied to you. God forgive me but I lied. Joanie, you love him deeply and want the best for him. You value him above yourself and would not knowingly harm Eric. Take it easy and go slow, but do see him. Call him as you have, just concentrate on being friends first and the rest will follow in due course. Can you do that for me?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Can you forgive me?” Sara asked.

My mind was in turmoil. “No,” I said, and got up to walk out of her office. I thought I heard her crying.

* * * *

I walked around for a while, thinking over what had happened. Had she been unfair in tricking me into stating my true intentions? Sara seemed openly regretful of how she had tricked me. She seemed honestly worried she had gone too far and damaged our relationship.

The problem was I wasn’t sure what to think. Confronting my feelings and fears was intensely unsettling. Conversely I was glad it was in the open. They -- Babs and Sara -- had known Eric and I were infatuated with each other, now they knew how deep it went. Now I knew as well. We weren’t just intensely attracted; we were more than just in love. We were soul mates and willing to sacrifice our own happiness for the sake of the other. In the long run this was good for Eric and my relationship. This was better for my relationship with Babs and Sara as well, but still, Sara had hurt me if only mentally. The woman I thought of as my mother had hurt me. Why? It suddenly came to me. The answer was simple, she hadn’t. The pain was from confronting my own demons, and in freeing me she had suffered as well.

~~And I told her I couldn’t forgive her. What kind of a bitch am I?~~

I reached an area of shops in the huge hospital complex and spotted a florist. I made a decision. A while later I returned. Dr. Sara was in her office, softly crying. I felt sick.

“Sara, I said I couldn’t forgive you, and I didn’t lie,” I spoke slowly and heard her gasp. “There is nothing to forgive, dear Sara; you did this out of love and fear for my safety. You did this to protect Eric and me, and I thank you.”

I paused. “I forgive you Sara, but I don’t think I can forget this. Your words hurt,” I said flatly. I stopped to wipe my tears. I saw the pained reaction on Sara’s face. “Rationally I know why and I understand but part of me feels violated. Can you understand?”

I saw she was hurting and so was I. I tried to find some humor in our mutual pain. “A small part of my mind is still hurting and will extract its terrible revenge … Doctor. Mah ha ha ha!“ I said trying to be menacing and failing terribly. I giggled and paused. “These are for you, Mom, if you’ll have me?” I asked, and handed her a crystal vase full of roses. “Roses were my mother's favorite, I hope you like them.” I turned to leave and Sara hugged me from behind.

“I will always love you, daughter,” she said, then kissed me. I turned to face her and we held each other for a while. We stood not speaking, just comforting each other. It would take time but in my heart I so wanted to be able to trust her without reservation. When we’d both wiped each others tears, I walked off to Donna Smith’s room with the other vase of flowers I’d bought, a spring arrangement.

I was nearing her room, and I heard a shriek.

“There’s a huge rat in the lounge!” a nurses aid shouted, her face in shock.

~~Huge rat? … No, it can’t be.~~

I set the flowers on the floor outside Donna’s room and I ran to the lounge. I was greeted by a pair of gleaming eyes peering from behind a couch. Then the animal came out into the open.

“Miki! What are ...”

~~Greetings, Mistress Joanie.~~ I heard a strange woman’s voice say in my own mind, then I fainted.

To be continued.
Thanks to Grover for the use of and assistance with Miki.
Special thanks to Janet Nolan and Karen_J for their helpful criticism.
Thanks again to Itinerant for being there even when it isn’t easy

Joanie's stow-away reveals herself and explains how they are bonded. We learn Miki has a strange weakness. Dr. Sara and Joanie reconcile. Joanie's match-making between Dr. Sara and the Senator had suceeded, whoa boy! The Smith twins mom meets Joanie. Gin equips Miki for the trip to Iowa. Mel, Eric and Babs meet Miki. Joanie and Eric devise a way to keep their relationship legal but fun. An emergency arises and Joanie must leave for, gulp, Hawaii.

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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble, drool) Ah … on second thought, don’t. -- Damn, where’s the mop — all this drool. —

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, 2005-2007.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. If you survive that pap, there is some adult content, too, so be warned. The name Leah is pronounced lay_ah. No snickering, perverts!

("It's the Princess!" "Aren't you a little short for a storm trooper?")
*&%^$#)@ editors !

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Verb verification by Itinerant, verily
Post-production proofing by Janet Nolan of GEBPR

Chapter 5, Hey Miki You're So Fine 4, Welcome to Adulthood 6, You’ve Got Male, Hana, HI 96713 - Leah

The Wisconsin State Paranormal and Mutant Facility, University of Wisconsin-Madison, Des Moines, IA

May 04, 2007

I woke to the embarrassingly familiar confines of my former hospital room. Dr. Sara and Gin were at my bedside.

“Hon, you have got to stop doing this. It’s that or buy a room here,” Sara said and snickered. Her laugh told me I was alright.

“Joanie, this question may be a tad delicate. Just when did you become a sorceress? It would have been nice to tell us. By the way, your familiar is a dead-give-a-way. And of all the animals you could have picked -- a mongoose? For that matter, where did you find one?” Gin asked smiling.

“Miki chose me, and I am and am not a sorceress. It’s something to do with my warper fields trapping and retaining magic. Whether I’ll ever be able to do any useful magic is the big mystery. That’s a question for the future to answer. Right now the question to answer is 'Is Miki is okay?' No one has tried to hurt her?” I asked.

“No, but she tried to bite the orderlies who attempted to move you. Sara, Red, and I had to do it. The orderlies were terrified of her. You owe them some new trousers and briefs, Joanie,” Gin said and laughed.

“She bit them in the… Oh dear!” I involuntarily moved to protect my *family jewels* and broke out in giggles. “An old and valuable habit, but a bit too late in my case, huh? Miki went right for…?”

“...their *family jewels*, yes, dear, but she was toying with them.” I exploded with the giggles. “Joanie! …I-i-i-i meant your familiar wasn’t trying to hurt them.” That got me going worse; I was laughing so hard it hurt. “I meant she wasn’t trying to castrate the orderlies, just scare them away from you. Joanie, sometimes I swear you’re a teenager!”

“But I am a teenager; ask Sara!” I burst into giggles again.

“Aaaaah!” Gin screamed in frustration, though it sounded like a strangled giggle to me.

Carrie entered the room and took over as Gin was rattled. ~~I wonder how Gin got that way. It couldn’t be me, could it? I’m gonna owe her for this one.~~ “They tried to approach you and there was a blur of claws and teeth. Next thing we knew, the orderlies were half naked and in shock. Their clothes hung on them in tatters and yet there was not a scratch anywhere on their bodies. We know, because we inspected them thoroughly afterwards; well, I did,” Carrie said and grinned. “The precision of her attacks puts the finest surgeons to shame.”

“We had little trouble once the orderlies ran off, and I do mean ran. Your little mongoose protector had them in fear for their lives, or at a minimum for their manhoods. When Gin, Red and I approached you, your furry bodyguard gave us a few quick sniffs, chortled something and scurried off. We were left free to check you over after that. I got the impression she kept an eye on us periodically, though she was stealthy about it,” Dr. Sara said smiling.

“I’ve known of her only a short time, but Miki is quite intelligent. She’s good at distinguishing friend from foe. There she is… Hi there, little one, Ms. Miki, I mean. Don’t be afraid; these people are good friends,” I called out softly.

Miki came out from the bathroom. I got the sense she was both happy and guilty. She hopped up on my bed, and I noticed bits of soft, white paper stuck to her fur. Then I remembered something several of our cats liked to play with.

“Miki, did you attack the toilet paper roll?” I asked as my friends stared at the odd animal and at me

~~Mistress, are you well? I was concerned. Forgive me, but the ball of white leaves in the stone-lined manbox was fun to pounce on.~~

~~Stone-lined manbox? White leaves? … She means the bathroom. ~~ I realized.

“Don’t do that again without asking, Miki. My Ghod, I’m speaking with a mongoose! You heard her. She spoke!” I exclaimed.

“I heard nothing, but I sense the animal is fond of you. There was a telepathic link between you, but I could get no details. It was like the information was protected -- encrypted in some manner,” said Dr. Sara.

“I didn’t hear anything, but I saw a faint glow flash between Miki and you right before you said she spoke, Joanie. It could be a kind of magic assisted telepathy. Familiars often communicate with their mistresses that way, so I’m told. I’ve not had the privilege of being approached by an unbonded familiar yet, sniff-sniff,” Gin said and laughed. “You should feel honored by Miki’s action, Joanie,” Gin spoke. Miki stood on her haunches and bowed to Gin. Gin returned the gesture and smiled.

~~Your sorceress friend speaks true. She is a worthy ally. You are fortunate to number her among your friends. I chose you, Mistress Joanie. I am grateful you accepted my offer. To travel across many cycles of the white time of death and the green time of life proves you are strong with magic. You were once a boy, so you must be of the Sisterhood. It is my duty to protect and train you. You need not speak, Mistress. We are one since you accepted the binding. I hear your thoughts. No one else can hear our mind-talk unless you wish it so … I do not speak your words well. Forgive me. This new language is difficult.~~

“There’s that ‘Sisterhood’ again. I’m no member of any such group. I learned I might have access to magic only recently. I’m no sorceress, at least not yet.”

~~I saw you with the dark-skinned man at my late mistress' burial. So long ago, so cold, so wet. I saw you alone or with him many times in the past. The magic around you was strong. You must be a great sorceress to travel untouched by age across the ye… years. Yes, years. I begin to understand your words, Mistress.~~ Miki said and appeared agitated.

“I’m a mutant. My time-travel is part of my mutation. Just as some back at Whateley and in this part of the hospital have great strength or speed, I can control time. No magic was used to travel to and from the past. Sorry, Miki.” The mongoose appeared nervous, as if I’d said something absolutely contrary to its beliefs.

~~But you have dual nature. You were a boy and are now a woman. You glow with magic. You must be of the Sisterhood!~~ Miki sounded troubled.

“Sorry, little one. I was a man of 48 years when I mutated into a 17 year old woman. I know not of this Sisterhood you and Dr. Tenet speak of,” I explained. The mongoose became upset, almost inconsolably so.

~~I have failed! I failed Mistress Kushala, her mate and their unborn. I waited long, so very long to find another mistress. I finally found you, and I have bonded wrongly. I am bonded to you until you die, yet you are not of the Sisterhood. It will be many years before I can choose again. The cause is lost, and it is my fault!~~ Miki wailed with despair in my mind.

The pain she felt was distressing, even secondhand. I could see Sara felt Miki’s anguish third hand through me. The animal was crying -- crying like a human. My response was to start giggling, and I couldn’t stop.

~~Do not mock me! I have failed. That is pain enough. There is nothing funny in this.~~ If a mongoose could give you a look of disgust mixed with despondency, she gave me one.

I gathered my composure. My friends looked at me like I was being cruel. Only Sara appeared to understand me.

“I'm laughing only because the joke is on both of us. I am a regen. I recover from injury quickly and completely. I don’t get sick, and I don’t age. Miki, I am all but immortal. This is not necessarily bad. This may be a blessing in disguise for you.

“Experts in the occult say I have magic around me. You sensed it, or you would not, could not have bonded with me.”

Miki nodded in affirmation.

“I’m told I gather and trap it, or that I may even be generating magic myself. The solution is obvious: Teach me. Even if I prove a lousy student, you are welcome to use my stored magic. If necessary I can help you find others who are more worthy of your teaching. I’m not rejecting you. I welcome your assistance and I will work hard as your mistress and student. “

Miki appeared confused at my words. I tried to explain my position.

“Miki, dear, though you are bound to me that doesn’t mean you, I mean we, can’t help others who have more traditional magic talent. Why must this relationship be limited to us only? I am a woman of vast resources with staunch friends. Two of them are young sorceresses; you’ve already seen one, Miss Lonnie. We will work this out together, Miss Miki. You have not failed. You may need to change your tactics, perhaps you will be the primary wielder of magic and I will be your assistant? Whatever the solution, we will find the way together. Between the two of us we will make this union a success. Is it okay if we start as friends and take it from there?” I asked and held out a hand to scratch her ears.

~~You would do this for me? You offer freely? The way of a sorceress is hard.~~

“Miki, I’m in love with a … a man too young to be my lover. My mutation has made me famous and there are those who covet my mutant gifts. This makes me a risk to my friends and family. Hard is something I understand. You waited all these years alone, guarding the demon your late mistress helped imprison. Your honor and resourcefulness are inspiring. Such selfless devotion to duty leaves me in awe. If I can help you, why shouldn’t I?” I smiled and renewed my offer to scratch her.

She rubbed against my hand, and let me give her a thorough rubdown. She lay happily against me on my hospital bed.

“Now that all *that* is settled, I imagine you both are hungry. I see no reason you can’t use the cafeteria, Joanie. As to Ms. Miki, um, what does a mongoose eat?” Dr. Sara asked.

“Miki seems to like lion cub dry-food jazzed up with anchovy paste. The dried-cured, unseasoned meat, pemmican I think it’s called, seemed popular enough. Raw steak goes fine, too. These are all treats I give to my smilodons. You liked my treats, Miki?” Miki nodded enthusiastically. “Is there a pet store or supermarket nearby? A high quality dry cat food and some tuna packed in water should do. Maybe a couple small tins of sardines? Nothing too salty or spicy, though,” I suggested.

“Gin, dear, could you?” Sara asked her.

“My pleasure! I’ll see if I can get you a soft travel case and a harness. You’ll need one for airport security; I know, I have a friend with a familiar. You do have papers for Miki?”

“Signed by Dr. Tenet and Circe,” I replied.

“Circe?! She’s… that’s as good as it gets. Circe is at Whateley? You lucky girl,” Gin said wide-eyed.

* * * *

I got something to eat and managed to get Miki a hardboiled egg from the cafeteria. She loped along, always at my side -- not the easiest task given my long stride. We ate in that same nurse's lounge Miki revealed herself in earlier. We *talked* as we waited for Gin. She peeled her egg expertly and ate with dignity.

~~Bless you, Mistress. The man who named me gave me these as treats. I remember him fondly.~~

I poured some water on a small plate so she could drink.

“If I leave you for awhile, can you stay out of trouble? There are people here dependent on machines to help them recover from illness and injury. Damaging anything, and I do mean anything, could hurt them,” I explained in a whisper. I wasn’t used to speaking with my mind yet.

~~I will keep near you, Mistress. It is my duty. I will not touch anything without your leave.~~

“Good, except can the Mistress crap. Pardon my language. Call me Joan, if you must, but I prefer Joanie. Joanie is who I am, and I love being her. I may be a bit silly at times, but I am having such fun, and I can truly help people with these mutant gifts. Why should I need any further honors? Mistress is pretentious and a bit kinky to my mind.”

~~Kinky, Miss … Joanie?”~~

“Ah, a game to make sex more interesting?” I suggested sheepishly. Miki became quite animated.

I remember! Mistress Kushala liked being tied to her nest… um, the bed with silk scarves, then the English and she would…~~ Miki offered. She was excited and graphic in her recollection.

“That’s more than I needed to know!” I whispered. I was blushing furiously, and I was the only one who could hear her.

~~The scarves could be fun with Eric… I’ll have to file that for future reference.~~ I thought, and my body responded enthusiastically.

Miki looked uncomfortable. ~~Joanie, how can you stand it?~~

“Pardon?”

~~Your mate, Eric. How can you stand being apart? I feel your pain and desire.~~

“We must wait, but it will be worth it. There is a saying ‘the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ Eric’s parents, his whole family, are outstanding people. He will be an outstanding man. He’s but a cub by human standards. I must let him grow first. Does this make sense to you, Miki?”

~~I think so. Humans are hard to understand.~~

“Tell me about it. I’m one of them, and I’m struggling to understand me!”

* * * *

Miki and I returned to where I’d left the flowers outside of Donna’s room. I wanted a peek at the Smiths before I had to go. I saw my flowers had been removed from the hallway.

Miki agreed to not disturb anything unless I said it was okay -- except maybe the wily toilet paper roll. She has a weakness for them, but then so did many of our family cats. I started speaking with my mind to her which proved easier than I‘d imagined.

~~If you behave, I will throw some toilet tissue rolls for you to chase, Miki.~~

~~For me? I will be good,~~ she chortled in my mind.

* * * *

Dr. Sara noticed us waiting outside the room. “Why don’t you go in?” she asked as she gave me a quick hug.

“I don’t want to take away from their time with their Mom… Mom,” I said as I smiled at Sara. On an impulse, I gave her a hug and kissed her cheek.

I felt I had to show Sara she was forgiven. I needed to do this as much for my sake as for hers. I was disgusted with myself for being angry at her. The difficulty was a part of me didn’t want to have anything to do with *that woman*. Oh, I admit I was upset with Sara, but I didn’t want this relationship to fail, at least not due to anything on my part. I forced that angry, betrayed piece of my ego into the background and focused on what was right with our relationship.

“I feel bad that part of me is furious at you, Sara. I did ask for help, didn’t I? How can I be angry at you for doing precisely what I asked for? I want to love you unconditionally. You remind me of what my birth mother could have been if the expectations of society in her day supported women entering professions such as engineering or medicine. As for the Smiths, I can wait to say my goodbyes. I'd rather give them more time as a family. It’s off to Iowa for me in a little while. Oh, Sara, you did talk to Babs, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Yes, and she’s relieved. She knew you loved each other. She wanted to make sure you and Eric were safe and wouldn’t get in trouble. Even a rumor of impropriety could be harmful to you two. Babs loves you like a sister, you know.”

“I feel the same. I wish I hadn’t failed you ladies.”

“Joanie, stop that! If you hadn’t admitted you were having trouble then Babs and I would be disappointed. That you told us, however reluctantly…” Sara started to say and I giggled nervously, interrupting her. “Joanie, what I’m saying is, you did fine. If I was in your situation, I doubt if I would have handled it as well. It’s terrifying to know you can’t trust yourself to act as you should. Given your intense feelings for Eric, I’m amazed you said anything at all about it to Babs or me.

“I hope you can forgive my cruel trick, but I had to be certain. You’re too precious to me to leave you at risk if I can help it. I don’t want to see you get hurt. …I can see the hurt in your eyes; I went too far. I’m so afraid I’ve ruined things between us. Can I still call you my daughter, dear?”

“I… I’d like that very much... I’d better go now, Mom. Tell Tom and Tina I’ll see them on Sunday…” I was interrupted by Tina.

“Joanie, you get your skinny butt in here, now!” she ordered me. She grinned and grabbed my hand, dragging me along. She was surprisingly strong for her size.

“Mom, I got her,” Tina said to her mom, gently nudging her. I saw my flowers were on display in a prominent place near her bed.

Tina pulled me close to the bed, then Donna grabbed my hand in an iron grip using her uninjured arm.

“My children told me what you are doing for them. I will pay you back someday, I swear, Joanie. They are all I have left since my husband…“ she mumbled softly through her wired jaw. It hurt to look at her battered body.

She squeezed my hand all the harder. Her captivity, chained in that farmhouse basement, left her starved for human contact. I noticed she’d been crying, but her eyes shone with determination.

~~This woman will do anything to get healthy and protect her children. Giving up because it is easier, after all the pain she’s suffered, is not an option in her book.~~

My admiration for her grew in response.

“It is my pleasure, Donna. Tina’s a sweet girl, Tom is a good boy, and Suzy would kill me if I wasn’t nice to them,” I said and giggled. She smiled back though I could see it hurt her physically to do so.

“Tom told me he’s seeing your niece. I’m sorry she’s a victim of these… bastards. Sorry, Tom, Tina. Moms shouldn’t use such language. Joanie, I‘m so glad you could save her. I’d like to talk to her and her parents when I’m better. They sound like good folks.”

“I’m happy you’re getting better. I’ll let my cousin Christine know you want to speak with her about Suzy and Tom. Donna, did the doctors tell you about the possibility of an *extreme makeover*?”

“Yes, and I will give it careful thought, Joanie. My children are all for it. Their first choice is for us to be triplets. If not their triplet, they want me to be their older sister. Me, thirty… ah-um year-old Donna as their sister -- kids, what can I say?” she said and rolled her eyes and smiled. “I see the merit in changing my appearance; it’s clearly safer for my children and me.

“I’d not be honest if the thought of gaining extra years of life did not appeal to me. Your friend, Gin, promised to bring her new sister, Katy, to see me so I can ask her what it’s like to be transformed. I am tempted; to start over is appealing. I thought I’d grow old with their dad but that cannot be… I’d like that chance again, and I do love my twins. If I can’t have those golden years with their father, I can have more with our beautiful children. I see aspects of him in each of them, so in a way he’s not gone. I miss the intimacy we had, the secrets we shared. Perhaps in time I will meet another man and find happiness with him?”

“No rush. You have to heal before they can try a transformation. If you need anything, ask. I am more than willing to help and to hell with paying me back. On second thought, I may need a reliable babysitter in five or ten years …?”

* * * *

We all kissed and said our goodbyes, then Gin took me and my stowaway to the airport. Dr. Sara took me aside right before we left the hospital.

“I nearly forgot, dear. If you never did another thing for me in your life, I would always love you for introducing him to me.”

~~Sara’s smile is beyond happy, almost like she’s high on drugs or … in love?~~

“You’re in love?”

“Oh yeah,” Sara sighed.

~~It must be the Senator. Duh, Girl, he’s getting his late wife’s engagement ring copied for her. He told me that the other day: I mean, use your brain, Joanie. Still, I know I figured the two would hit it off but this is … Wow!~~

“I’m no saint; the rest of the Gang of Four told you that, I know. I’ve bedded my fair share of men since Carrie’s father died, more than my fair share to be honest. No one ever clicked until now. Bless you for getting Senator Williams and me together. He makes me happy; I think I love him. Joe tells me he hasn’t felt like this since he was dating his late wife. How do you find these people, Joanie? What attracts such wonderful people to your side? You have my undying gratitude. And please forgive me, I never meant to hurt you, dear.” She hugged me hard. I saw her wipe her eyes after.

“It will be okay, Mom. I promise.”

My last view of her was of a smiling, crying woman. And you all thought I was the emotional one, didn’t you?

* * * *

A gift-bearing Gin met me as I gathered up my luggage and retrieved one wayward mongoose.

“I hope this is suitable. I picked-up a soft-side animal carrier with a built-in water bottle and food dispenser. It’s certified to meet all US airline carry-on requirements. I got the smallest box of cat food I could buy and four tuna packed in water — in the pouches, not cans. All the sardines were in mustard sauce or hot sauce, so I skipped them. This should hold you until you can shop for yourself. To obey the law, I got you a figure-eight harness and leash. Just in case, I got one of those all-in-one throwaway cat litter trays and a few plastic bags. Here’s a brush for her fur, a nail clipper, and Sara insisted I give Miki this,” Gin said and giggled.

“A small roll of toilet tissue; how thoughtful,” I groaned.

~~For me? Please can I have it Mistr… Joanie, please?~~

“Okay. Seems Miki appreciates your gift. She begged me to let her keep it.”

“She did? I thought I saw a faint glow for a moment. I suspect as you are together longer your communication won’t be so obvious. Tell Miki I hope she enjoys shredding the tissue. I bet it makes a nice nest material and toy.”

“You brought it; you give it to her,” I said.

Gin put water in the carrier, some dry food in the built-in bin, tossed in the tissue then set the carrier on the ground. Miki bounded in after the tissue and only objected slightly when Gin zipped the door shut.

~~Joanie, how will I get out? If I am caged, I cannot protect you.~~

“Miki is worried she can’t get out in an emergency.”

"If I leave the zipper partially open can you squeeze out or tug it open with your teeth?” Gin asked Miki, then partially opened the flap.

Miki puzzled for a moment. She deftly grabbed a zipper slide in a paw and zipped it open while bracing the opening taut with her body.

“You have opposable thumbs? I mean you can use your paws like a human uses their hands?” I asked.

~No need to shout, Joanie. I am not as I was when I first became one with a mistress. I am skilled in many human ways, and my body is different to make this so. I can speak if I must, though it is hard.~~ she spoke to my mind. She sounded very confident, but not boasting

~~We will have so much fun together, Miki. Could you say thank you to Gin? She is a dear friend.~~ I thought.

~~With pleasure, Joanie. Thank you for speaking to my mind. I missed doing that with Mistress Kushala. You remind me of her in many ways.~~

“Thank you… Gin,” Miki spoke in a high-pitched, squeaky, but understandable voice.

“You’re welcome?!” Gin said wide-eyed then laughed.

~~Perfect, Miki.~~ I thought.

“Miki, do you need to… use the litter tray?”

~~No, Joanie, I used the big box with plants and the small tree in it.~~

I looked down the corridor to a large planter next to a huge window. “Gin, you may want to warn maintenance that Miki *fertilized* that big planter,“ I said and snickered.

~~What amuses you, Joanie?~~

I giggled and blushed.

“Ms. Miki, my friend here is being a silly girl. She’s imagining the surprise on the face of the maintenance person who next tends to that big planter. The planters are not usually used as bathrooms. You didn’t know, so it’s okay with me, Miki.”

Miki’s link to me must include helping her translate human speech because I thought someone blew a mental raspberry at me as we walked to the PT Cruiser. Gin drove us to the airport and helped us get on the plane.

* * * *

The engines of the small jet fired up, and we began to taxi.

~~I am afraid. I was scared the last time, but it is no better. This man box… airplane frightens… Aaagh! What was that?~~

“We took off. It means we are flying. It is quite safe. If you wish, you can sit on my lap. It’s safer for you to remain in your carrier which is buckled tight to the seat. I could put my hand inside it to comfort you if it helps. I don’t blame you for being afraid. My sister doesn’t like flying,” I offered.

~~Thank you, I will get used to this if I must.~~

She rested her head on my hand and she soon fell asleep. She kept a tight grip on my hand the whole time. Her warm, gentle presence and the strain of the day soon combined to put me to sleep. My dreams were wondrous and, no, I will not tell you what I dreamed about. The copilot woke us on approach to Des Moines. I found I had slept through most of a one-hour flight.

“I never asked. What do you have there, Joanie?”

“A magic mongoose.”

“You’re a nut, Joanie,” he said and walked back to the cockpit.

~~I told you the truth, Mister. It’s not my fault if you chose not to believe me. Those dreams! Note to self: I definitely need to remember about the silk scarves, oh yeah.~~

* * * *

I got a taxi to Terrace Hill, arriving around eight in the evening. The taxi dropped me off at the gate, where I was immediately recognized.

“Evening, Joanie. I’ll call ahead and…” said the officer on duty.

“Could you skip that? The visit is something of a surprise. Just say a visitor is on her way.”

“Sure, I’ll advise the staff to expect you but keep quiet. How long are you here?”

“Into Sunday, I escorted a pair of students to Madison to visit their mom in the hospital. We fly back to school on Sunday. I was so glad I could help,” I explained.

* * * *

I slung my guitar on my back then hoisted my bags -- Miki’s case included -- and walked up the long drive. The night air was pleasant, and I thought about what to say to Babs and Eric. The answer came at once — the truth. I was two-thirds of the way to the house when I heard the door to the mansion fling open and someone running out of the house towards me.

“Joanie, where are you? Let me help you,” Mel called out.

~~Somebody couldn’t keep a secret.~~

She nearly knocked me over when reached me. “I’m sorry, I’m so excited. Let me help. You have a pet with you?” Mel asked excitedly and tried to peer in the carrier. “I thought your smilodons were much bigger. It’s not for me is it — I’d like a pet but we can’t because it’s an historic house. That’s what Mom tells me — It’s not a kitty cat? It kinda looks like a kitty cat,” Mel said barely pausing to breathe.

~~Mistress! Joanie, help!~~ I *heard* Miki call. Mel in her excitement was holding the carrier in an awkward position and swinging it around.

"Mel, hand me the animal carrier carefully. You're scaring Miki,” I said calmly.

“Miki?”

“She’s my familiar. It’s a long story. Where’s Eric?”

Mel got this puzzled look. “A familiar?”

“I’ll explain it later. Just take it she’s a friend, and I want you to meet her. Spill, Mel, where’s your brother?”

“He’s out back shooting hoops.”

“I was; I’m not now,” Eric said running up to us.

He was wearing baggy shorts, tennis shoes and a very sweaty T-shirt. There was a gentle breeze blowing from Eric towards us, and I caught his scent. The impact on my senses was immediate. I wanted to jump him here on the lawn, immediately, sister or not. I could tell he was glad to see me, VERY glad despite the baggy shorts.

“Let’s go inside. You two can meet Miki, and then Eric and I can have a long talk with your mom. Thanks for being honest with her, Eric. You’re not in any trouble, but we need to set some rules,” I said smiling and feeling so good it was criminal.

“Joanie, what did you say Miki was, a familiar?”

“I, well, the experts at Whateley think I’m a sorceress. I may be able to use magic, and Miki here was the familiar or helper to a sorceress from India long ago. Miki is my helper now. She’s very clever. Want to meet her, Mel, Eric?”

We stepped onto the porch of the grand Victorian mansion and sat down, I let Miki out and she climbed onto my lap.

"Miki, this pretty young lady is Melissa or Mel as she prefers and the young man is…”

~~Your mate, I recognize his musk. I can see your aura flashing again; you love this Eric intensely. May I?~~

I nodded and Miki walked carefully to Eric and sniffed him. Eric gently petted her. Soon her rump was high in the air, her tail up and she made an odd cooing, meowing sound. I found myself becoming aroused, more so than I could ever remember. I was on the verge of ripping off my clothes; Eric was my sole reason for existence. I needed him more than food or air. I felt like an animal; I was driven by a primal urge. I needed his seed... I fought to stay in control and I sensed confusion and embarrassment. Miki moved over to Mel, sniffed her and crawled on her lap. Miki was mortified at her behavior. I realized what must have happened. We had had a female cat we didn’t have *fixed*, and I suspected what Miki’s behavior was. I’ve seen lots of nature documentaries, folks.

~~Miki, was that what I think it was? Were you assuming the position of a willing female in heat?~~

~~Forgive me. His musk should not have affected me, but I was smelling him, *seeing* him through your mind and… How can you stand to be so close and not submit to him?~~

~~Because I love him, and I want him to finish growing first. This waiting hurts as I do desire him so. But I must wait until he can legally accept what I long to offer him.~~

“Why did Miki act so odd?” Mel asked.

“She’s my familiar. It means she’s bonded to me: we can *hear* each others thoughts. We also feel each other’s emotions. Miki picked up on my feelings for Eric, and it overwhelmed her. Because we are linked, it fed back into me. Now you know why I need to talk with you two and Babs.”

“J-Joanie, you want to have s-sex with me? I know what it means when an animal does *that*. I know you love me, but I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Eric, you’re forgetting Easter evening, and I talked with your mom about that. I know you feel the same. It’s okay to feel that way. It’s wrong for us to act on it until you are an adult, but it’s not wrong to imagine. Eric, if it wasn’t illegal and unethical for me to be with you, I’d be begging you for it. Don’t look at us like that, Mel. If your mom and dad didn’t feel like that you wouldn’t have been born. Then there are the twins on the way… They didn’t come from nowhere.”

“I know I’m supposed to say, ‘Yuck, my parents have sex?’ but that is so romantic! But you and my brother? Double yuck!” she said and giggled.

“Sis!”

“Yeah, Mel, don’t tease my future husband. We better see your mom and dad.”

“Husband?” Eric gasped.

“It’s a few years in the future, but I think so. What do you think?”

Eric smiled. “I like the sound of that, Joanie. I’d give you a hug, but I’m all sweaty. I must stink real bad.”

“Eric, you smell heavenly to me, but you could use a shower.” ~~A shower would be lovely. Hot water massaging us as we soap each other, our hands sliding all over our naked… Fight the urge to shower with him, Joanie. You don’t want to go to Alcatraz.~~ “Don’t take too long though; we do need to talk with your mom and dad. It’s important.”

“Yeah, Joanie, Mom and Dad said it's important we talk this out. Mom’s at home, but Dad’s gone again. He’s at another fund raiser for the party. He has to go because he’s Governor, and he’s expected. I know he’d love to beg off for Mom’s sake, but she understands. She misses him when he’s gone, but you’ll cheer her up. Thanks for calling her; she was feeling down, but your calls made her feel better.” He rushed off for a quick shower while Mel and I played with Miki for a few minutes.

* * * *

I placed Miki back in her carrier. Mel treated her carrier like it was the most delicate thing imaginable, much to Miki’s relief and mine. We met Babs in a sitting room. She began to get up, but I stopped her gently. Eric came in right after us.

“Babs, Sis, you don’t need to get up for me unless you want to. I… want you to be comfortable while we have that talk Eric and I need. Sara read me the riot act and then some; I’m angry with her. I don’t want to be; it’s more of an emotional reaction than a rational one. It took guts and love for her to say those things to me. It hurt, but in my heart I know she spoke the truth.”

“She called me this evening, twice. She was crying the first time; she’d hurt you so badly she was afraid you hated her. After you brought her the flowers and called her Mom, she called me again. She told me to say she’s sorry and forgives you for how you reacted at first. She was very harsh and regrets it,” Babs explained.

“I deserved it; my Ghod, I was moments away from seducing Eric, let’s be blunt, having intercourse — sex — with him on Easter. I know it. We need to set guidelines to avoid that. I trust Eric, but I’m not sure I trust me in his presence.”

“I better go, you need your privacy.”

“Please stay, Mel. I… we need you to help be our conscience. You can remind us if we get too frisky. It’s a lot to ask, but you’re a mature young lady. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were up to it. Think of the fun you can have. I’m giving you license to be a pest to your brother and me.”

“That could be fun. Okay, I’ll do it,” Mel replied then grinned happily.

“Thanks, Mel. Babs, help Eric and me set up some sensible rules. You know what situations are likely to get our motors running.”

* * * *

“We simply must not get in situations where we are completely unsupervised. It’s that, or we stop seeing each other.”

“You’re breaking up with me, Joanie?” Eric sounded hurt.

“No, Eric, I am trying my damnedest to prevent that. But if we can’t find a way to keep our relationship on the up-and-up, we will have to break-up. I’ll not risk ruining your life because I can’t keep out of your trousers,’ I said and giggled nervously.

Eric stared at me, his mouth hanging open. Mel was halfway between laughing and shock.

“I don’t believe I said that, but I did didn’t I? It’s the truth, though I stated it crudely. Eric, I met you less than nine months ago; I don’t think in all that time we’ve spent more than 24 hours together. Add on the phone calls it’s still less than two days. Despite that, I *know* you are the one, and it scares me.

“When I met you, I’d been a woman for two months; I still have so much to learn even now. That I find myself irresistibly drawn to you is a source of joy and of fear.

“How can I explain it? Eric, I feel joy because in you I have found someone who makes me complete, someone I want to raise a family with. I also feel fear -- fear for your safety and that of your family; I put you and yours at risk by our closeness. My enemies may choose to get to me by hurting you. I fear that you will grow old and die but I won’t. My greatest fear is that I am being selfish in believing I deserve your love, Eric. Who am I to manipulate an impressionable young man into being my lover against his best interests?”

“That’s a lie! I love you, and you’ve done nothing to manipulate me. Knowing you has been nothing but good for me -- ask Mom, ask Mel. If it wasn’t for you, she’d be dead. I’d love you for that alone. Don’t you dare say you’re bad for me!”

“I know that, but that voice of doubt, that shy, unsure remnant of my previous life cannot accept my good fortune and is looking for the cloud surrounding the silver lining. Can you understand?” I asked. I moved next to him and hugged him as if I’d never see him again. ~~Hum, Eric uses Dial soap? It never smelled this good before, but then he smelled good sweaty… Joanie, you're obsessing about him, again.~~

We spent a good hour talking about Eric and me, and how to keep our relationship alive, but chaste. Mel contributed several good ideas, the smart girl. Finally, Babs had to ask about my animal carrier. I think Mel opening it and sticking her hand in there every so often got her attention.

“Mel, honey, what’s in the bag?”

“This is Miki; she’s Joanie’s familiar, and she’s sweet.”

“Familiar?”

“Let Miki out,” I said.

~~Miki, say hello to my friends.~~

“Greetings, friends,” Miki squeaked and bowed. Mel giggled, Eric looked on astonished, and Babs' face lit up in a huge grin.

“I knew magic was real! I knew it! You promise to treat Joanie well, Miki. Joanie is like a sister to me and to my children …”

“Love Joanie, always,” Miki struggled to say.

~~Thank you, you don’t need to speak that way anymore. I know it’s not easy.~~

“Miki has trained sorceresses for a long time. I saw her at the burial of her last mistress during one of my time trips. That was in 1858. Miki is special even for a familiar. She told me her most important duties were to guard her mistress's family and to be a friend and teacher to her mistress's children.”

“My god, it’s mini Lassie!”

“Babs!” I shouted then broke out in giggles.

~~Joanie, what does she mean?~~

~~ Babs was being silly, but in a complementary way. Lassie is a heroine dog in fiction. She was brave, smart, loyal, and very attractive. In Scotland a lassie is a young woman, usually a good—looking one.~~ I wasn’t about to tell Miki that the TV Lassie was a canine cross-dresser.

“Babs, Mel, can I have some time with Eric -- alone please? You and Mel can play with Miki. She likes toilet tissue rolls. If you throw one for her to pounce on, I bet she’d be your friend.”

“Can I, Mom? Please?”

~~Please?~~ Miki sent me and assumed a begging position.

“Okay. Mel, get a roll from the linen closet, We’d best do this in the hallway,” said Babs.

“Thank you!” Mel and Miki squealed together.

* * * *

Eric and I talked as we heard the sounds of occasional girlish squeals — in two distinct ranges of pitch -- and of furry feet and claws scurrying on the wood floor. I imagine Miki made some squeaks, yips and the like, but Mel and Babs were too loud for me to hear her over them. Babs may be 35 and a pregnant mother, but the little girl in her is alive and thriving. ~~No wonder she sees me as her sister.~~ I did sense Miki was having a great time playing. Eric and I sat together on a couch holding hands.

“Eric, this is hard for me. I want you to respect me. I want to show my respect for you. That can’t be if I act like a nymphomaniac who wants nothing but sex from you. Believe me, I want to do that with you, but not until you’re an adult.”

“I’m happy just holding your hand and talking. My friends at school keep saying how lucky I was to go to the dance with you and that we’re friends. We’re more than friends, right?”

“Eric, I think we’re soul-mates. It means our personalities, desires, and well, everything, match so closely we’re like two halves of a puzzle. Apart, we’re incomplete; together, we’re something special. I’m not saying this well, I…”

“Joanie, stop talking.”

“Huh? What do you… mmmmmmm… Where did that come from? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Is that better, Joanie? And all we did was hold hands and kiss, nothing else. See, Joanie, we can do it. It will be fun. I want to know you first; I want to know your mind. From what you’ve told me, your body will be exactly as it is no matter how long we have to wait. Let’s get to know each other as people; it will make getting to know each other as a man and a woman all the better,” Eric said and gave me a hug.

“How did you get so damned mature? I’ll wait. Um, Eric, may I have another kiss to tide me over?”

~~ This is bliss. Don’t let it end.~~ I could have stayed in his arms forever, but we had to break it off to avoid a repeat of Easter night.

“Joanie, this will work out. We kissed twice and held hands but kept in control. Good things are worth waiting for. I know, tell me more about how you met Miki. She’s important to you, so that makes her important to me.”

“You’ve got it, Eric, and thanks for putting up with this confused girl. I promise I’ll make it up to you someday.” We sat next to each other and quietly talked; the feral beast that was our desire *domesticated*, I hoped.

* * * *

“Ms. Brown, there is an important video conference call for you; Ms. Johnson will meet you in the Media room,” one of the Governor’s aides said to Eric and me.

“Please, call me Joanie, everyone else does.”

“I must decline. I was not raised that way and to me it feels improper to do so. Given names are for family or close friends. I am not a close acquaintance or family member, so it would be wrong for me to presume. I apologize if I sound pompous; it is not my intent. I also assist the Governor in matters of protocol.”

“Joanie doesn’t mean anything by it, Ms. Jenkins; it’s the way she is.”

“Thanks, Eric, but Ms. Jenkins is right. Not everyone is comfortable with being as informal as I. Since she is involved with matters of protocol, I understand why she errs on the side of formality. Eric, imagine if the Queen of England was visiting your dad and I walked up and said, ‘Hey, Lizzi babe, how’s it hanging? Are you and Phil still doing the nasty?’ Your dad would know I was joking, but I imagine the Queen would be offended. I’m sorry, Ms. Jenkins. I prefer to be informal, it’s my nature, but if you are not comfortable, I understand. I’m afraid the seventeen year-old girl in me dominates my personality. Please inform Mrs. Johnson I’ll be with her shortly.”

“Of course, Ms. Brown, and thank you,” she said, and left.

Eric and I walked into the corridor where we saw Mel and Miki waiting for us. Though they’d cleaned things up, there remained visible evidence of a life-and-death struggle between mongoose and toilet tissue.

~~The poor tissue never had a chance, sob!~~ I thought, then I *heard* a certain animal giggle in my mind.

“Eric, can you and Mel keep an eye on Miki? I don’t know how long this call will be. I do want to spend more time with you all. I‘ve got to go.” I gave Mel a quick hug and kiss and then the same for Eric. I skipped my way to the Media room, and I do mean skipped.

~~Ghod, I LOVE being a girl!~~

* * * *

“Mrs. Williams-Johnson, Ms. Joan Brown, I’m Dr. O’Mara from Kahului, Maui in the State of Hawaii. I believe you both know Dr. Sara Grobschmit-Taylor from Madison, Wisconsin, and Ms. Elizabeth Carson from Dunwich, New Hampshire. Joanie, I need a BIG favor from you. I wouldn’t ask but you are essential for a safe resolution of the problem.”

“Joanie, I hate to cut your visit short, but an emergency has arisen. I need you to fly to Maui, Hawaii, and escort a new mutant to Whateley,” said Ms. Carson.

“I’ll ask the obvious question: Why me, Ms. Carson? Surely there are others who could chaperon the child?”

~~Gee, nice verbiage Ms. Noah-speaka-dey-englease Webster. Ghods, I said *surely* in front of Sara of all people -- I’m doomed.~~

“I’ll explain, dear,” said Dr Sara. I noticed her eyes were a little puffy, and the expression on her face would put a hurting puppy to shame. “The patient is a young girl whose mutation manifested shortly before her thirteenth birthday. In the eight weeks that have passed, she’s proven a difficult case. The situation in her community is not ideal, and the community — Hana — does not have the facilities for her needs as a mutant. It’s quite remote.”

I broke up in giggles.

“Remote? Hana? I’ve been there, once, as J … as my old self, and remote is an understatement. It may be just fifty miles from Kahului and the main airport for Maui, but that road is a scenic nightmare. I mean, not that many miles after Hana is where Lindberg moved to get away from the press and all that publicity.”

“I didn’t know you’d been there. That’s another point in your favor,” said Dr. O’Mara, a friendly smile forming on her forty-something mixed Asian/Hawaiian/Celtic face. “Let me fill you in on the child’s situation so you know why we are all asking you help us. Before I go on, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Brown. My daughter has your CDs and plays them all the time. Frankly, I’m sick of it.”

I giggled and laughed, which got a similar response from the charming doctor.

“You were right, ladies, Joanie can take a joke. Joanie, if I may call you that …”

“I prefer it, and you prefer?”

“Maureen.”

“Maureen O‘Mara? Do any films with John Wayne? …Excuse me!” I exclaimed. I ran, giggling uncontrollably, to the ladies room to keep from wetting myself.

* * * *

“Sorry I had to leave abruptly. I apologize for the silly schoolgirl routine, but look at this body. As they say, when in Rome… sorry again. Doctors, and Ms. Carson, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? Why me?”

“Leah Haleakala’s mutation seemed normal at first. She did suffer a severe burnout, but prompt treatment by her EMTs with ice, salt and metabolic inhibitors saved her. Dr. Sara’s treatment of the twins and your water rescue, Joanie, of that girl in April got wide coverage in the on-line and print medical journals. The lesson that cold is a powerful tool for control a burnout was not lost on us. It’s fair to say she owes her life to you ladies, Dr. Sara, Joanie.

Once stabilized, Leah was flown by helicopter to Pearl Harbor where Hawaii has its only major center for mutants. I kept in frequent contact with her doctors there during her evacuation and flew out on the next available flight to offer my assistance. She recovered quickly, and as she had no significant mutant abilities we sent her home after a couple weeks’,” Dr. Maureen explained.

“I still need to ask -- why me? Leah sounds like a minor case, other than the severity of the burnout. That confuses me, as it often indicates a person will get serious mutant powers.”

“That is precisely why we need you, Joanie. Her powers are the reason why we must have your help,” Dr Maureen said. “Her powers took a while to kick in, so we didn’t realize the danger she would be exposed to. Other than a moderate exemplar effect, she seemed normal. That and the strawberry blonde hair and bright green eyes on her otherwise Eurasian body were a surprise, but contacts and hair dye could have fixed that.”

~~Strawberry blonde hair and green eyes? Oh oh!~~

“Her powers kicked in three days ago. She has something akin to your time stop, Joanie, but her control is erratic at best.”

“You’re hoping I can teach her control. It’s possible, but why the rush? Ah… she can’t help using it when she is frightened. I take it she has used it and at an inopportune moment?” I asked.

“Her exemplar gifts make her look older and more alluring than before. Leah was a cute girl; she has the body of a stunning female now. She looks more like a college coed than a thirteen year-old. She is very beautiful, but is not anywhere near to being able to handle the natural side-effects of that body. Some older boys hit on her thinking she was of age and went too far. They are being held in jail under sexual assault charges. In her panic she time stopped them and ran away. That likely saved her from being raped; unfortunately several people saw this, and one was an anti-mutant sympathizer.

“He got the word out. He claims she is a child predator, and she used her mutant powers to corrupt the *innocent* boys. There was a confrontation at her school the next day and several people got hurt. She was terrified and time stopped some people again as she ran home. The local jerks called in outside trouble makers and the situation is tense. We need to get her out safely, and you are our best hope, Joanie,” the exotic doctor pleaded.

“You can’t fly her out for fear she’ll have a panic attack and time stop the helicopter?” I offered.

“Exactly, we could try a convoy, but the road is fifty miles of hairpins and frequent single-lane-one-way sections. We could drug her, but she is a moderate regen and the drugs wear off fast; a partially disoriented Leah would be a nightmare. Fortunately, Leah is a fan of yours, Joanie, and we believe that will make the difference.”

“Leah’s a fan of mine?”

“I *think* so. Let me explain. While she was under my care, all she ever wanted to talk about was you, her friends in your fan club and I quote, ‘will I have cool mutant powers like Joanie?’ end quote. She’s a sweet girl. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“There is something you’re not telling me, Maureen.”

“Joanie, hon, I was called in on this because tests of Leah’s blood showed break down residues of the Ultra-X-Amine homolog used on your three friends in Wisconsin. The chemical is so unstable and hard to detect, it took this long to be certain. The investigation tracking the Wisconsin group suggested the criminal experimenters were in Vancouver, British Columbia, recently.

They must have moved on to Hawaii and decided it was safe to start up their experiments again. Suspicious individuals have been spotted in or around Hana, and they are not known or suspected anti-mutants or Hawaii for Hawaiians activists. The local police have help from the State police, but they are overwhelmed. The situation is escalating dangerously,” my Sara explained.

“Those bastards are at it again, Sara?” I was fast becoming furious. “I just saw some of their *handiwork* today in the broken body of my friends’ mother. I’m in. These people are a threat to Suzy’s family as well. Don’t worry, I’ll behave myself, but if I can do anything to stop these killers you’ve got it.”

“Suzy?” asked Dr O ‘Mara.

“The girl I rescued in that cold, cold water. I, well, she’s a blood relative. Her mom’s my cousin, so you can see why I want to help. Please don’t repeat this.”

“I’m sworn to protect my patients' confidences, and I know of Whateley’s reputation. I’m not inclined to piss-off hundreds of mutant supers. It’s not healthy.”

“Okay, ladies, what do we do next?”

* * * *

Arrangements were made to divert my charter to O’Hare, where I would board a direct commercial flight to Honolulu. It was the quickest way to get me there. My charter would fly on to Madison, and several of my MSG pals, likely Red and Gin, would escort the twins back to Whateley, as I would be delayed by the Hawaii trip. I would be escorted by members of the Hawaiian State police and Army National Guard helicopters would fly us to Maui to effect Leah’s rescue. There was a chance I might even get to spend some time on a beach, and I didn’t have a thing to wear.

~~Oooh, I wonder if they have any nude beaches. Could be fun,~~

I called in my ace-in-the-hole once we’d worked out most of the details.

“Ladies, this is Melissa Johnson, Babs' daughter and my dear friend. She is also the president of my fan club.

“Mel, that’s my dear Dr. Sara. The nice lady over there is Ms. Carson, she’s my boss, and the other lady is Dr. O ‘Mara. They want me to go to Hawaii and bring a frightened girl safely to Whateley. Does the name Leah Haleakala of Hana, Maui, sound familiar? “

Mel’s eyes lit up, and she grinned. “Leah? Sure, she’s a regular in our chat room. I haven’t heard much from her in recent weeks. She did say she’d been ill and would tell us about it someday. What’s wrong?”

“Leah is a victim of the same creeps who drugged my Wisconsin friends. She’s now a mutant, and she’s in danger. Her doctor, Ms. O’Mara, wants me to go to Hawaii and get her out. My friends here think a friendly face would help. Can you get a message to her?”

“I could send her a PM — that’s a private message. We use encryption — that’s a tough word to say -- so we can keep things private. You have to be a registered club member to read our messages. What should I say to Leah?”

“She needs cheering up, and she needs to be ready to move out, fast. A telephone call is risky; the phone line could be tapped. Send her a message saying a good friend of yours is coming to help her and for her to be careful until then.”

“Joanie, come with me,” Mel said, grinned and grabbed my hand. She was eager to help me.

“Sorry, ladies, duty calls.”

“Joanie, hold on for a moment. Your ticket for the flight to Hawaii will be waiting for you at the airline check-in desk at O’Hare International. We’ll send Babs all the details of your itinerary before you leave. And good luck, Joanie.”

“It’s my pleasure, Dr O’Mara, Ms. Carson, Sara. One last thing, ladies, I need two tickets to Hawaii, adjacent seats, please. Sara would you be a dear and explain to them about my furry stowaway, Miki? And, Sara… I love you.”

I blew her a kiss and was met by shocked expressions on the other teleconferenced faces. Ms. Carson’s soon looked like she was about to break into laughter, but she knew about Miki from Circe and Dr. Tenant. They had told me they had to inform Administration why I’d be keeping yet another animal in my dorm. I left the room with Mel. I think Sara was crying again as I looked back. Babs gave me a thumbs up.

* * * *

“Okay, we’re online. Let me see if Leah is on too. Yeah! She’s on. See, Leah_1994 is in the chat room.”

‘Leah_1994, this is Iowa_Mel_10, can you talk?’

‘Mel, thank god. Bad things are happening, I’m scared.’

‘Leah, a VERY GOOD friend I met in Prairie Du Chein last Labor Day is next to me; she has a message. I’m turning on my web camera and microphone so you can see and hear her.’

“Go ahead, Joanie.”

‘Leah, this is Joanie. Your Dr. O‘Mara asked me to help you so I am. Please be brave for a little while longer, girl. I’m coming to get you out — in person. It will take time to fly there, but I should be with you in less than a day. Be safe and do what the police say. The people who started all your troubles hurt friends of mine. That makes you family in my eyes, so be brave, cousin.’

‘Are you really her? You look and sound like Joanie, and I can see Mel beside you. I do know what she looks like from our chats.’

‘I was kissing Mel’s brother an hour ago. He looks even better than at the dance.’

‘She sure was. It was embarrassing watching my brother carry on like that. I made sure they behaved.’

I giggled.

‘You’re that Joanie alright. That giggle and smile are all the proof I need. Thanks for helping me. I’d better go. Be careful, Joanie, people have tried to shoot at our house. I’ll be brave. Mel, tell your brother to be nice to Joanie.’

‘I’m on my way, Leah. Have a small bag packed with your most important possessions and a change of clothes ready. I hear you got some way kewl powers, kinda like mine. I help you learn to control them if you want. See you soon.’

* * * *

We signed off, and I prepared to leave despite my burning desire to stay in Iowa.

“Thanks, Mel. Check frequently and let your mom know if you get any more messages from Leah. She can forward them to me. This is an important job, Mel; can I count on you?”

“You bet. Thanks for letting me play with Miki; she’s funny.”

”I like you, too, Mel.” I hugged her and hurried to gather my stuff together.

* * * *

“Let me help you.”

“That’s not necessary, Eric.”

“I want to. I wish we’d had longer.”

“I plan on coming in June. As long as we play by the rules, we should be fine. We need to be a bit less touchy-feely. It’s for the best. You get the time to finish school, and I get the time to learn control. Be good for me, Eric, and I’ll give you a special present for your 18th birthday. You’ll like it, I’m sure.” I wet my lips and ran my hands along my sides.

“Joanie! I… a…”

“Now you know how I feel. Be good. It’s not that long to wait.

“Miki, we have a plane to catch.”

To be continued.

Miki flies again but is not happy. Joanie encounters the MCO -- Mutant Control Agency --and she gets a brief taste of a woman's greatest fear. Joanie meets good cops and a bad cop. She runs into a childhood friend and makes amends to a service worker she abused. The rescue of Leah -- the new mutaant -- begins. It's the start a wild and dangerous journey.

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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble) Ah… on second thought, don’t. — Just freakn’ great, now he’s foaming at the mouth and his head is turning in circles — Buddy, the Linda Blair impersonation does not impress me. I don’t care if you’re levitating three feet above the bed and your eyes are glowing… red. Um, never mind. (Pea soup, anyone? Urrrrrrrp!)

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, 2005-2007.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. If you survive that pap, there is some adult content too, so be warned. The name Leah was inspired by the *Hawaiian* style Roy Orbison tune, Leah, and our exotic young tour guide in December 06 — Leilani -- at Greenwell Farms, a premier Kona Coffee grower.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Verb verification by Itinerant, verily
Technical advice on police, airports and the electronic press by Karen_J
Error checked by GEBPR mistress Janet Nolan to insure kwality

Chapter 6, Hey Miki You're So Fine 5, MCO, Old Friend, Hana, HI 96713 - Leah 2

Des Moines, IA, Chicago, Il and Hana, HI, May 04-May 05, 2007

Late May 04 nearly May 05, 2007

* * * *

It was close to midnight by the time I got to the airport. We had to hustle as my flight to Honolulu was scheduled to depart O’Hare at 2:24 AM CDT, a very tight turn-around for me. My handsome flyboys were informed I was on a tight schedule and had topped off their fuel tanks before I arrived. I boarded and we were in the air in five minutes, our engines roaring.

~~Handsome flyboys? Next time I visit Eric, I’d better get some relief afterwards or take a damn cold shower. The pilots are looking way too hot for my liking. The ass on the copilot is so fine. Turn around so I can check out your… Oh baby, that’s prime! …Get a grip, Joanie, you do not want to join the Mile High Club by accident. I hope Eric’s okay, I think I wound him up, too. Come to think of it, he was shooting hoops again when I left and it was an hour to midnight. ~~

“We’ll get your there on time, Joanie. Normally we cruise at 450 to 500 knots for fuel efficiency; we’re pushing 630 knots tonight. It’s takes a lot more fuel, but we get a bonus if we can get you there with time-to spare,” the copilot explained.

“Thanks. Sorry to spring this on you at the last minute.”

“We live for these unscheduled trips. It’s a challenge to our skills, and its fun seeing what this baby can do. Hang on; this could be a rough ride. We have to fly through some turbulence to save time. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to leave your seat, Joanie. Please keep your belt on tight; I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The flight was a short one like the flight from Madison, barely over an hour. I passed the time regaining my composure after my abbreviated reunion with Eric and in comforting Miki. She was not yet a happy member of the frequent flyer's club. With every bump and vibration of the aircraft she involuntarily shivered.

“Miki, you have fought the possessed, you have lived on your own fighting the minions of that demon, and air travel scares you?” I was tired and forgot I need not speak to communicate with Miki. But then the tone of my voice calmed her and me so it wasn’t entirely a waste.

~~I… I did not like the smoke belching man raft… the steam ship. Mistress Kushala did not like it either. I will get used to it; I must as your protector. Oh, what was that?~~

“We flew into some turbulence. Remember on the steam ship when it hit big water waves? I bet it shook and pitched around. Turbulence is like waves in the air. You will be fine. You’re not used to this yet. You will be, soon,” I said and petted her in her tightly belted carrier.

~~Bless you, I needed your touch. Kushala exposed me to many new and wondrous things; you will be no different, Joanie. What of your tigers, and how will we live together? As your protector I must be near, but I would not interfere with their love for you.~~

“They are smilodons. They are not tigers. I rescued them over ten-thousand years ago on the edge of the last great glacial advance. I was testing my time travel power and stumbled upon them and their dying mother. It was too late for her, and I could not have handled a full-grown smilodon, even if I knew how to save her. I could not leave them to die, they were not yet weaned so I adopted them. Their kind vanished from the world not long after. George and Gracie are the first two that have lived in nine thousand years.”

~~But you chose to protect them knowing they are flesh eaters.~~

“So are you, Miki. That does not make you or them evil. You are what you are. They are being trained. They are intelligent for animals who do not have the gift of magic. Pinky is helping, as is a dog trainer in Whateley Security. I do what I can as well. They will not hurt you, if we introduce you to them carefully.”

~~They did behave when we were bound. They love you as children love their mother. I sense it now that we are linked. They may have a crude form of an empathic power. We will manage with the help of your daughter, Ms. Pinky.~~

“She’s not my daughter… I suppose she is in reality. I am preparing to become her legal guardian, as her birth mother despises mutants. Becoming her mother was more of a legal ploy to save her family, to shock the mother into trying to understand her mutant daughter. I do love Pinky, and she deserves better.

“Thank you, Miki, I will do it. If her mom won’t see reason, I’ll gladly be Pinky’s mom. I’d be a fool to reject her as my child.”

* * * *

May 05, 2007

They got me to O ‘Hare in great time, and I hustled to the ticket counter. The line was short as the fight was leaving in under an hour, and most of the passengers were already in the departure lounge, I learned later.

“I have a last minute reservation on the 2:24 AM direct flight to Honolulu. It’s for Ms. Joan Brown, that’s me, duh. It’s for two adjacent seats as I have a live animal I must carry with me.”

“Your ID, please, and the vaccination certificates for your animal, Ms. Brown? …Ms. Brown, um, any checked luggage… YOU’RE flying with us?”

“Last minute emergency, I’m afraid. I have to go to Hawaii to help with a frightened child. It is Hawaii, so this should be fun at some point. Will Ms. Miki here be a problem? I believe she’s exempt as a sorceress’ familiar, but I don’t want to cause trouble.” I handed my ID and the temporary familiar/sorceress card for Miki and me that Circe and Dr Tennant had provided. I set Miki’s carrier up on the counter so it could be inspected.

“You are a constant source of surprises, Ms Brown. You’re a sorceress? Not satisfied with being a singer, model and mutant heroine? Did you know there is a Coke ad in our in-flight magazine that features you time stopping a can of soda? Remarkable!”

“The soda can demonstration was for another magazine; it was part of an interview and photo spread I did. Our school got a tidy sum of money from the publisher and a sweetheart deal from Coke afterwards, so I’m happy.

“The sorceress potential was only recently discovered. I’m not a sorceress in the classic sense. Miki here is my familiar; she chose me, and I’m glad she did. I need all the help I can get with this, not that I expect anything to come of it. It will be interesting to try, though.”

“We don’t get a lot of familiars, but the papers appear in order. Her carrier meets our safety requirements. Please keep it tightly belted to the seat at all times for your animal’s safety as well as everyone else’s. And despite the temptation, do not let your animal out while on the plane for the same reasons.”

“Will do — is my guitar a problem? My day bag I’m sure will fit in the overheads. I have flown before.”

“If necessary, the flight attendants will secure your guitar up front. I don’t foresee any troubles. You’d better hurry; you need to get through the security check. I’ll call ahead to make sure the departure gate expects you.”

”Which way next?”

“Security check is to your left; gate K16 is near the far end of the terminal. Turn to your left immediately after Security then follow the overhead signs. Thank you for flying with us, Ms. Brown.”

* * * *

The line at security was short; not many folks like to catch a plane in the wee hours of the night. I’d flown commercial before and knew the drill. I took off my shoes then put them with my keys, purse, belt and everything else in one of the provided bins so they could be x-rayed.

Okay, dear d/j/w readers, I know what I just said. Stop laughing at me! I did not stand there naked; I meant I took off anything with significant metal content, and no my bra that evening was not an underwire. If anyone makes a crack about my needing a chastity belt, they are out of here. Jeese, you pose for a men’s magazine once and everybody assumes you get naked at the drop of a hat. Everything else meant my jewelry, a watch, hair clips, and that sort of thing.

I will admit to this, if stripping naked is what it took to get on that plane, I would have done it. I would have been royally cheesed off, but when Ms. Carson and my dear Dr. Sara ask me to help someone, I know it’s important. The looks on Bab’s, Mel's, and Eric’s faces when I had to leave were worth any inconvenience I’d face. That family treats me like I’m their guardian angel, and I don’t ever want to disappoint them. If having an unpredictable life is the price for this body and my new friends, it’s a bargain.

My bag and guitar case went up on the rollers with the bin. I took Miki out of her carrier, and put on her the figure-8 harness and leash. Then the carrier followed the rest through the x-ray machine. I had my ID at the ready including my boarding pass, my mutant ID and the temporary familiar’s card. I got some odd looks when they saw Miki, if seeing me wasn’t strange enough. I walked through the body scanner with Miki on my shoulders then handed my ID to the officers on duty. The lady and man from the Federal Airline Security agency were fine but as for the MCO man… I’d better describe what happened at security. It went like this:

“Possession of a mongoose in the United States is normally illegal except under special license, but your familiar’s card is in order and you have the animal properly restrained. You are free to go, Ms. Brown, and thank you for being cooperative. Some celebrities are a handful; sorry I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I understand and thanks.”

I gathered my possessions, put Miki back in her case and was about to put my shoes on when I was interrupted.

“Stand over here, hands out to your sides.”

“Excuse me?”

“Now, or I’ll arrest you for interfering with an officer. Better, now spread your legs and hold still until I tell you.”

I was shocked by his actions and was getting angrier by the second. He began a thorough, rough and very intimate pat-down search -- far too intimate if-you-know-what-I-mean.

“Stop that it tickles. Hey! that was my breasts you groped, Mister …EEP!!”

-- SLAP!! —

“You son-of-a-bitch! That was my sex you groped.”

-- Zzzzzp — Miki’s carrier opened as if by magic.

“You’re under arrest! Drop to the ground or I’ll drop you, hard, mut.”

“Sexual assault is a serious charge, Officer. You had no right or need to touch me in that manner. I suggest you stop and apologize now, before you find yourself in prison and some bigger man's *wife*. What’s more, I’m proud to be a mutant! How dare you make a disparaging slur; I *heard* you mutter mut.”

I was furious. He’d groped me where no one EVER gropes a woman or should even dare touch her. I was saving *that* place for Eric, and Eric alone. Not that I hadn’t *loaned it* to the Gang of Four and Dairy Maid in my *younger days* as a woman. That was mutual, voluntary and 'whoa momma'. This was none of those. This was abuse of power, plain-and-simple.

He moved to strike and cuff me, then the Federal airport screeners intervened as did Miki.

“That was assault, Pete. Ms. Brown has every right to feel abused. Let her go and apologize immediately, or I will help the young lady file a charge of attempted rape. Let her go and apologize. Now! That is a direct order,” the ranking Security officer, a woman, said.

“She resisted me, and I feared she carried a concealed weapon. These mutants are devious; it’s a proven fact.” He continued to threaten me physically.

“Frank, the only thing deadly about Ms. Brown is her killer body, and I’d hardly classify that as a concealed weapon — no offense intended, Ms. Brown,” said the female airport screener.

“None taken,” I replied. Officer Peter “Pete” Frank continued to try and intimidate me. Luckily for me the Security screeners were not buying his act.

“Dispatch, Sgt. Murphy at screening. I need the captain here immediately. We have a standoff with the MCO that needs resolution. Yes, it’s Officer Frank… again. Over.

“Pete, you want to add refusing to obey a lawful order and false arrest to the list of charges?” she asked. “Assaulting anyone on airport property falls under Chicago police authority, and I am deputized by both the FAA and the Chicago police. You know I outrank you, Officer Frank. Follow my orders.”

“I don’t have to follow your orders, I’m MCO. Don’t let that pretty face fool you, these mutants are nothing but trouble. Are you going to just stand there silent, or are you going to back a fellow officer? Jesus!”

“Officer Peter Frank, Debra is right. You’ve gone too far this time. You were a good cop when you started with the department. What happen to you since you joined the MCO? I must apologize for him, Ms. Brown; Pete wasn’t always like this. Oh, I’m Officer Jesus Ramone; this is my superior, Sgt. Debra Murphy. ”

“Let her go,” a high pitched voice squeaked. I smiled immediately.

~~Thank you, dear friend.~~

“What was that?”

“That was my familiar giving you fair warning. Miki is a female mongoose and fiercely protective. Seeing how you assaulted me, I’m going to enjoy watching her sinking those razor—sharp teeth and claws into your genitals. We’re linked to each other mentally; she knows exactly what you did to me and where. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes at the moment; Miki is furious.”

Miki growled and hissed, baring her teeth and raising her fur. Her ears were back, her tail low, in preparation to attack.

“Shoot it, it’s rabid!”

“She looks plenty healthy to me, Pete. What to you think, Jesus?”

“I see a well-trained guard animal protecting its mistress. You’re in no danger if you come to your senses and let Ms. Brown go.”

A man came up in an electric cart. The Captain (?) was around 40, fit, tall, handsome, with a devastating smile and... ~~No wedding ring? My kind of man… Ghod, Eric got me wound up but good.~~

“Officer Frank, this is a direct order from the Chief of the O‘Hare Airport Police, my direct supervisor. The MCO may be an international organization but in this airport the Chicago Police department has ultimate authority. Release that woman at once, or I am to arrest you personally.”

“There, you can go now, *Miss*. I’m filing a protest, Captain. You interfered with my duty to uphold the regulations of the MCO.”

“Do you wish to file charges, Ms. Brown?”

“I dearly would, um, Captain is it? I’m a sworn officer in New Hampshire as part of my school duties, and this man is a disgrace. But my flight departs in 30 minutes if that clock is right, and it’s down at gate K16. Miki, please get back in your carrier, dear.”

“She zipped it shut herself? My, she’s well trained,” the female sergeant commented.

“Not exactly, it’s more like she’s training me, Sgt. Debra, if I may call you that. I have to go, sorry. A man like Officer Frankenstein needs to have some sense knocked his head.

“Frank, you assaulted a woman in the clear view of multiple cameras and fellow officers; are you insane? You’re not only a menace, you are a fool. Hand over your weapon and badge to the Sgt. You are relieved of duty pending charges. Officer Ramone, handcuff Officer Frank.

“Ms. Brown, we only need your name, ID and your account of what happened. Between my officers and the closed circuit TV images we can do this without you, but your testimony would help. To minimize your inconvenience, I could interview you while we drive to your gate. You’ll state your name and some ID info then tell what happened as simply and accurately as you can. Unclip it and speak into my shoulder mic. The radio has a built-in in voice recorder; just hold in the blue button while recording. Slick, ain’t it. I hate taking paper notes.” I smiled and nodded in agreement.

We loaded my bags onto his electric cart once Officer *Cop-a-feel* was secured. We drove off at a runners pace.

* * * *

“Captain, I’d take you out for drinks if you weren’t on duty. Are you seeing anyone? ...Why are you laughing?”

“Ms. Brown, if I believed you were serious I’d take you up on that in a second. I can tell you’re just flirting. I’m appreciative, but wouldn’t you miss your flight?”

“I’m serious about the drink. You and your officers treated me well. Ah, shouldn’t we do that incident report thingy? I sounded like an airhead, didn’t I? I don’t mean to, but it happens. Don’t ask me why.”

~~That’s easy, you’re nervous, tired, horny as hell, and he looks a bit like an older Eric.~~

“You… you remind me of my boyfriend, just older.”

“He must be a handsome devil then.”

“Now *you’re* being a flirt, Captain. If I had the time, you’d be successful too.”

* * * *

He asked me to state what happened, clearly and simply. I did, and managed to complete my report in minutes, which was good as that was all the time we had.

“There, told you we be here on time. You likely won’t need to testify but I have your contact information and it will stay confidential. I recognize the address as Whateley. It’s a fine school; I have worked with Whateley grads in the department. Take care, Joanie.”

“Thanks,” I said gave him a hug, grabbed my stuff and hot-footed it the few yards to the gate.

* * * *

My plane was already loading, as I rushed up to the desk. The gate attendant was busy and answered me without looking up.

“Joan Brown, I have two adjacent seats in group two because I have a live animal I must transport. I apologize for being late but I had difficulties with the MCO.”

“I hear they can be extremely strict. Your group has already boarded so you can just head straight to the jetway, Ms Brown.” She still hadn’t looked up at me other than a momentary glance. I *knew* what was coming next. Some of the passengers in line to board were staring at us. I think they were waiting for the gate attendant’s inevitable double-take.

“Thanks.”

She finally looked at me. “You’re her? We were told to expect a Joan Brown, but I didn’t make the connection it was you. You’re quite the celebrity!” Her eyes didn’t quite bug-out, but it wasn’t bad. A couple of college-age men in line gave each other high-fives while another dug out his wallet. He did not look happy.

“Be quiet, now everybody’s gonna’ want one. You’re sure I’m not cutting ahead of others here because of my fame, Mary?” I’m not a mind-reader, folks, I noticed her name tag.

”You have group two seats; you won’t interfere with the other passengers as the aisles are wider in that part of the plane,” she said as another flight attendant answered a phone then whispered in Mary’s ear. “Jacquelyn just told me the press have gotten wind of your incident with the MCO and are demanding you leave the secure area and give a press conference. I’d get on the plane now; it will save all of us a lot of hassle.”

“That seems a wise precaution. Thanks, Mary, and thanks, too, Jacquelyn.”

* * * *

I smiled and waved to the waiting passengers, then I lugged my bag, guitar and Miki to the plane. At over six feet tall, even wide-body jets cause me to duck entering the plane so the flight crew didn’t get a good look at my face.

“Group two, seats 27 A and B?”

“Straight ahead, second section and welcome.”

“Thank you. Will my guitar be a hazard if I store it in the overhead bins? It’s a solid-body electric and heavy,” I said as I cleared the door and could stand full upright.

“As long as the latches snap shut on the bin, it should be fine Miss…” The fight attendant looked closely at me. “…You look just like the singer, Joanie.”

“I do look like myself, don’t I? Hi, I’m Joanie. I better go, I’m holding up the line.” ~~As often as that happens, I’m not tired of it. Guess I’m an attention junkie.~~

* * * *

I walked the short distance to my seats, set Miki’s carrier down carefully, and tried to put my guitar and bag in the overhead. I struggled to get my large guitar to fit; it was a tight squeeze. I noticed quiet a few men and even a few women starring at me or parts of my anatomy.

“Miss, do you need help?”

“Yes, please, my guitar and bag are a tricky fit. I could use an extra hand or two.”

“Try it now,” he said as he gave the Les Paul a modest nudge while helping raise up the bin.

-- Click --

“Thanks Mr.?”

“Matt Ferguson, from Honolulu, but originally I’m from Wisconsin -- Wauwatosa actually. No one has ever heard of it.”

~~Wauwatosa!?~~

I turned to thank him as the gears in my head spun. I looked at him; he was a fit curly—haired man in his upper forties and looked extremely familiar. It came to me at once, and I felt dizzy.

~~It can’t be, after all these years.~~

“Are you okay, Ms. Brown? You are Joanie, the singer?” he asked. He steadied me while I recovered. To be honest, he held me close and firm in his strong arms as I nearly collapsed. I could smell his healthy musk. He was like a fine scotch that only gets better with age. I wanted to drink my fill. I recovered and composed myself.

“Thank you, Matt but I’m fine, just exhausted. It’s been a long day. I’ve flown from New England, to Wisconsin, to Iowa, to Chicago, and now on to Maui via Honolulu.” I had to ask him but how? “What you said shocked me, I know some people from Wauwatosa. ~~Myself for one.~~ Are you a ‘Tosa East graduate?”

He chuckled at ‘Tosa and smiled. He told me the year he graduated and the junior high and grade schools he attended, too. He explained how he’d moved to Hawaii a couple years before to start fresh after his wife of twenty years had died. My heart pounded.

~~He is *that* Matt.~~ Matt was a school pal of mine, but we gradually lost touch after grade school. He was an excellent athlete but was not a show off, which, as a total klutz, I appreciated. He clearly had kept fit and still had those piercing gray eyes. He was an intelligent and good mannered jock as a kid. ~~The whole time we’ve talked he’s looked me in the eyes, only once glancing at my body — what class. The boy was good-looking, the man is… Woof! AND a widower, damn, damn, damn, damn.~~

~~Ghod, why once I decide to do the *right thing* — find a good man and be utterly faithful to him — do you have to tempt me with such… delights? Matt is muscles-on-muscles and on a trim, non-steroid body. Those eyes of his put Robert Redford’s to shame. And he’s interested in me, his *equipment* is clearly in good working order. Momma has GOT to have some of *that*… Bad Girl. Down, heel, stay! Oh no, that smile is like Eric’s; no wonder I’m hot and wet.~~ We moved to one side of the aisle to let others pass.

“I miss Wisconsin, but my talents took me out east, Matt. I hope my sitting here doesn’t disturb you.”

“I’ve sat near celebrities before. The flight crews usually keep things under control. Pleasant dreams, Joanie. This is a long flight.”

“Thanks,” I said then whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry to hear about your wife. I remember hearing that your dad died; what is it now, twenty years ago? He was a nice guy. I felt bad I never sent a card,” I gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek then sat down. The look on his face was well worth it.

“You knew my father?” he whispered back.

“Matt, I graduated from the same high school class as you. I wouldn’t say we were close, but were friends in grade school. We were in the same classrooms in grade school. Heck, we were in the YMCA together back then. Think about it, and if you’d like to get in touch with me, I’d like that. Do keep quiet, please, for my family’s sake.” I handed him a business card with my private email address on it. He looked utterly perplexed, yet happy.

I was taking a big risk, but Matt and his whole family had always been scrupulously honest, so I felt I was safe. Plus he looked much like I envisioned a mature Eric would; how could *he* betray me?

* * * *

We taxied, took off, and soon were climbing to 37,000 feet. I slipped my hand in past the partially open zipper and kept a light touch on Miki while constantly sending her encouraging thoughts.

~~Thank you, Joanie, I feel better now. Rest, I will keep watch.~~

~~Thanks, but you don’t have to, Miki. The plane should be relatively safe. I want you well rested for Hawaii. The life of the girl we are to escort may be in danger. I need you to be my backup.~~

~~I will rest, but remain alert. My duty to you demands it.~~

~~Okay, only so long as you don’t harm yourself, Miki. I’m a tough girl; don’t let the seventeen-year-old body fool you.~~

I sleep when I can, Joanie. Do not fear for me. I failed Mistress Kushala and her pack… her family. I refuse to fail again.~~

~~Stubborn mongoose, aren’t you.~~

~~No less stubborn than you, Joanie; you are more than the silly girl you pretend to be. I am more than most perceive. Trust me to do my duty. I trust you to do yours.~~

After we leveled off, the fight attendants offered beverages and snacks. They were polite, friendly and the attendant with the beverages made a gallant effort to not stare down my cleavage.

“Ms. Brown, um, your blouse is ah…” he said very softly. I peeked down and saw I was giving a grand show.

~~Thank Ghod for my well-fitted bra… Oh joy, I forgot I’m wearing one of my shear Lycra bras; the ones with no padding. It made sense when I dressed; it was going to be a warm day, but the damn thing is all but see-through. If that’s why the AC has be cranked full blast, all I can say is… Whoa, guys it worked. I look like a fembot about to shoot her *twin guns*, my nipples are so stiff.~~

“I am *so* embarrassed; I guess I popped a few buttons storing my stuff in the overhead compartment. Thanks for being discreet.” I buttoned my blouse, blushing slightly in embarrassment. I got a juice for me and water for Miki. He got a smile and a kiss on the cheek for his trouble. After the *eye-full,* the poor man was in distress. ~~Now you know how my boyfriend and I feel, mister.~~ Miki wisely kept out of it, though I thought I sensed someone was softly *smirking* in their mind.

Being a red-eye flight, they did not show a movie or news, only the mandatory safety information and the expected weather for our destination. From the next attendant I bought a snack box that included tuna and crackers in addition to nuts and candy and such. Miki was most appreciative of the tuna. ~~Fish, you got me fish! Bless you, Joanie.~~ After this they dimmed the lights so we might sleep. I could have bought some cheap ear buds to listen to the on-board music, but I needed my sleep.

* * * *

Several times that night as I slept, a disturbing thought entered my dreams and made me feel disgusted with myself. I soon realized what my subconscious was telling me and resolved to make amends. About an hour out of Honolulu -- around 10 o’clock Eastern Daylight Time -- I picked up the handset of one of those seat back video satellite phones and called the Berlin NH Ford dealership. The receptionist recognized me at once. I was lucky they had full Saturday hours, not all dealerships do.

“Ms Brown, how may I… You’re calling from an airplane?”

“We’re about an hour out of Honolulu. Could you get the manager and Ms. Reinhardt from the Service Department on phone, and I’d like this on your PA system if possible. I owe someone an apology, and it needs to be a big, groveling one. In person would have been better, but this will have to do.”

“Certainly, it shouldn’t take more than few minutes to get things set on this end, Ms. Brown.”

* * * *

“You wished to speak to me and Ms. Reinhardt?” asked the manager.

“Yes and I requested your receptionist put this on your PA system, if that’s okay with you. Let me say my piece then you may speak, okay?

“Hello, and good morning everybody, I’m Joan Brown, Joanie the singer, and I was rude and insulting to one of your coworkers recently. I had my blast damaged crew-cab pickup towed in for repair or replacement. For reasons I am not proud of, I went off on your Ms. Reinhardt. I did not give her the necessary time or any real opportunity to do her job. I was impatient, rude and failed to show her proper courtesy. I compounded my bad behavior by giving Mr. Ford an equally hard time. I made a half-hearted apology to him, but not to the person I hurt most, that being Ms. Reinhardt. I acted the stuck-up prima donna, and I am ashamed of it. My parents raised me better than that.”

“That’s all right, Ms. Brown, I…” she tried to answer.

“Thanks, but I have more; please excuse me for being abrupt. It is not *all right* what I did to you, Ms. Reinhardt. I need to make amends to you, personally, for my outrageous behavior. You pick the day, Ms. Reinhardt — subject to my being available, as I do have my duty to my employer. I will work as your assistant, gopher, number-one-son, dogsbody, personal slave — well, maybe not *that* extreme -- for however long you work that day. If you want me to mop floors and clean bathrooms, I’ll do it. Is it fair?”

“You would do that for me?” she asked wide-eyed.

“I was a 24 carat bitch, and I used my celebrity in unfair ways. I don’t ever want to do that again. I hate people who abuse privilege, so what did I do? I abused my privilege.” ~~Ah, I bet that’s what triggered my bad dreams, my run-in with Mr. MCO.~~ “My mother, if she was alive, would be disappointed with my behavior.”

“Ms. Brown, Mr. Ford did say you told him that the service writer was not to blame, that you were. Ms. Reinhardt was not in any trouble with us at the dealership,” said the manager.

“I’m glad for that, but I was taught to act with respect towards others and not to be some selfish tyrant. Mom did not prove of bullying others.” I started to sniffle. It’s wasn’t an act; I was sincerely upset with myself.

“I forgive you, Ms. Brown, and I could use the help. Perhaps on the Friday before the Memorial Day weekend? That’s one of our busiest days,” she suggested.

“If I can work it out, you’ve got a dogsbody for that day. And again, I am sorry. I don’t ever want to be *that* woman again.”

* * * *

We arrived at Honolulu on time, a few minutes prior to 7 o’clock. Matt graciously helped me off the plane with my luggage. I could tell he wanted to speak to me in private.

“Do you have the time to have breakfast with me? I’d like to talk with you some more. Your revelations last night got my imagination running.”

“I would if I had the time, but I see several police officers and Dr. O’Mara ahead; they're my escort. I’m doing them a favor. I’m to travel into a volatile situation and safely escort a frightened new mutant child to safety — the same-old-same-old. Perhaps when I’m done we could have lunch, a drink or something, Matt. I miss my old friends and treasure the few I’ve managed to retain since my mutation.”

“Here’s my business card, Joanie. I can be reached on my cell at any hour. I think I know who you were before all this happened to you.” He gestured at my *new* body. “I can see the family resemblance, particularly to your mother; at least I think I do. It’s been so long I can’t be certain.” He winked, but then he always did have a quiet sense of humor. “I promise I will keep quiet; from what you’ve done in the last year, you deserve your privacy,”

He whispered in my ear. ”Joan, why did you pick such an obvious new *first* name? Only one letter different, are you crazy? …I keep up with the news. I’ve seen what you did, saving those girls, the singing and all. You done good, old friend… And you are so much better looking than John.”

“Thanks, Matt. You always were a classy guy.”

I felt a strange mix of emotions. I was happy and sentimental; I’d rediscovered an old friend, but the dynamic had changed. When we were kids, he was an athlete and a boy I respected, but that was all. Four decades later, the female me remembered all that while feeling more than a touch of lust for my old friend. I did something John would never have dreamed of and gave him a bear hug and kiss from a woman to a desirable man. I heard wolf whistles and some giggles behind us. We broke apart, and I saw several teenagers looking at us.

“Can’t a girl thank a man without everyone getting all silly about it?” I turned to Matt. “Thanks for *everything*, see you soon,” I cooed and I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Poor Matt was blushing bright red, but he was smiling. Realizing a long-lost male childhood friend was now a major babe had to be confusing. I know it has my head spinning at times.

* * * *

“Who was that man you were kissing, Joanie?” Dr. O’Mara asked.

“That was Matt, I knew him in grade-school. He knows I was a classmate, but not who I was. He’s reliable, don’t worry. Can I get something to eat? And my friend Miki could use a chance to eat and relieve herself. She’s been stuck in her carrier for hours.”

~~Thank you, Joanie, I need to take care of myself.~~

“Your furry stow-away, Ms. Miki. Dr. Sara told us about her. You are a constant source of wonder Ms. Brown.” The doctor paused and a smile grew on her face. “Importing a mongoose to Hawaii, that seems redundant. We have a *few* of them already,” Dr. O’Mara said and chuckled. “Officer, would you kindly take Ms. Brown’s familiar to the secure dog-walk then return her to us at the B concourse McDonald’s.”

I put Miki into her harness and leash and handed her to the officer.

“You take care with her; she is precious to me. Miki, I’ll get you something good to eat. Thank you, Officer James,” I said noting his badge. I gave him big hug and a quick kiss too.

“Yes, ma'am, um, Ms. Brown, right away!” He walked off and I heard him say to himself. “She kissed me! Joanie kissed *me*. Wow!”

We stopped in an airport McDonald’s for something quick. Time was critical and a more relaxed meal would have to wait.

“The Spam, Eggs and Rice breakfast platter looks tempting but I don’t have the time. I’ll have a number 2 breakfast sandwich with juice. I see you have Kona coffee. A large one to go, please, and is it possible to get an order of scrambled eggs but with no salt or seasoning, and also a whole milk, also to go? It’s for my animal.”

“It will take longer, Miss,” my cashier said not looking closely at me.

“That’s fine. Thanks for the special order; I didn’t anticipate traveling with my mongoose. This trip was unexpected.” I got her attention with that and she looked up from her cash register.

“You have a pet mongoose? Ms… you? It’s really you? ...Like, oh-my-god, I am a big fan of your’s_what are you doing in Hawaii_how long are you staying_ why are the police with you? I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to go off like that. I’m, like, so excited!”

“That’s okay; can I get my food and the special order please? I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Michelle, do you need help? The line is backing … up? … Ms. Brown what an honor …”

* * * *

Breakfast took longer than expected -- duh. It worked out, because Miki’s eggs got time to cool and she got ample time to do her *ablutions*. I fed her and let her lap up some of the milk as Dr. O’Mara and I were driven to a military helicopter pad on another part of the airport. Dr. O’Mara gave me an update on Leah and the situation in Hana. I remembered to turn on my cell phone and found Mel had sent me a message a few hours before. I called her back, as she said it was important.

“Terrace Hill, who do you wish to... Good morning, Joanie. I recognize the caller ID.”

“Mel sent me a message. Is she awake? She said it was important.”

“She’s eating breakfast; I’ll inform her you’re on the line.

* * * *

“Joanie, thank God you called! I have my computer on all the time now just in case. Leah is scared. Someone shot at her house last night. She says she fears for her family. The police moved her during the night to a secure place, she couldn’t say where, but she sent her last message a couple hours ago. She didn’t know if she’d have net access, but she promised to try. Please hurry, Joanie. I don’t like the tone of her messages; she sounds desperate.”

I heard a voice in Mel’s background. “Who are you talking to Sis?”

“Joanie, and it’s super important. Quiet, Eric, please!”

“I’m about to board a helicopter in Honolulu as we speak, Mel. It won’t be long. If you hear from her, tell her to obey the police, and I‘m on my way. I’m proud of you, Mel. Thanks for helping a girl you’ve never met in person. That proves you have a kind heart. If I can, I’ll see she visits you.”

“I’d like that a lot. You get her out safe, please.”

“Absolutely.”

I heard an extension being picked up. “Joanie, don’t do anything stupid. I want you alive and unharmed. If anything happened to you …”

“Eric? Don’t worry, I’m no martyr. I plan on getting Leah and everyone else I’m responsible for out of this unharmed. We had our weekend interrupted, I intend to make it up to you, dear.”

I heard a woman’s voice in the background. I couldn’t make out much.

“That was Mom. She says to be careful, too. She expects her sister to be with her in the delivery room this August and no excuses.”

“Mel, tell my big sister I’ll be there. I’ve got to go, Mel, Eric. I’m getting the sign from the police. I’ll call once it’s safe again. I love you, all of you.”

* * * *

I was fitted with a life-vest and emergency beacon and was strapped into the helicopter. My luggage was stowed; Miki’s carrier was tied down next to me at my insistence. I was given an over-the-ear hearing protection/headset so we could communicate and a sound deadening blanket to cover Miki’s carrier. The military helo was loud, and I worried Miki’s hearing might be harmed.

~~Is this too loud? Can you protect your ears, Miki?~~

~~The blanket and my carrier help, but I can shield my ears several ways. I will not be harmed. Please cover the doorway with the blanket as it helps. I will talk to your mind if I need assurance. Your mate and Mel fear for your safety; I *heard* them through our bond. I will do my best to keep you from harm. Mel is a fine girl, and I understand your attraction to Eric. I will not fail them.~~

* * * *

We flew toward Hana, Maui, on a direct bearing to save time. We were briefed on the latest from the State Police on the scene in Hana and on the plans for evacuating Leah and her family. We were in one of a pair of fast troop carrying helos, Black Hawks or some such name. Several large cargo helos followed behind, each carrying dozens of heavily armed US Marine MPs whose duty was to restore order to the town and assist in the capture of any and all provocateurs.

They would approach the town from several directions at once, after I got Leah out. Surprise was the key to keeping casualties to a minimum. “Ms. Brown, you will approach Hana from the National Park a few miles out of town. There is sufficient space to land your helo there. We have a rental car stashed there so you won’t attract undue attention.”

“Ah, I’m coming in the back door then. I’ve been to Hana once as a tourist.”

“You understand then. We will drop you off while the small squad in the other Black Hawk lands in Hana to assist the state and local police and to act as a diversion for you. Leah is in hiding at the US Post Office in Hana. It is as or more secure than the jail and not an obvious place to secret her. You are to pick her up and drive leisurely back to the National Park where we will fly you out together. Your calming influence should suppress her instinct to unleash her time stop anytime she is scared. A simple plan, but one we have faith in.”

“No plan survives the start of a battle.”

“You’re a student of military history, Joanie? We have backup plans. The simplest one is you drive Leah to the main airport in Maui directly -- no helo ride. The island is small. Your car has more than sufficient fuel to drive either way around the island. You will be equipped with a secure police radio and other items to assist you. May I ask why the animal?”

“Miki is my familiar. I recently learned I may be a sorceress. She will assist me with any magical issues and she’s scrappy fighter.”

“Sorceress? I believe it; I’m bewitched by your beauty.”

“Sorry, officer, I’m spoken for, but that is not for public consumption. That goes for both the sorceress thing and the, um boyfriend, got it?.”

* * * *

We arrived at the National Park, the helos waited until I was on my way so they could land in Hana just before I arrived at the post office. The flight crew unloaded my bags while I took care of Miki. I was fitted with a woman’s State Police summer uniform, with shorts and a spiffy hat. I was given dual hip holsters for a pair of Tazers. I thought the form-fitting ballistic vest was a thoughtful touch, and it fit so well. It reminded me of a corset. I asked how they managed it.

“We checked with your Chief Delarose, he gave us your measurements. He said you were uncomfortable with firearms, but competent. He also said you were a crack shot with a Tazer and knew how to make it painfully effective. As they are your preferred weapon and quiet, we got them for you. Our hope is for you to get in-and-out of Hana without arousing suspicion.”

“Thanks, I prefer not to hurt anyone. I’m more a lover than a killer, I mean look at this body.”

The park and police officers looked at me closely and kept looking. I was beginning to wonder if these short-shorts and the v-neck uniform blouse were strictly regulation. ~~It could be my imagination, but a bare midriff is not the usual look for a police uniform. Not that it isn’t a good look for me.~~ The effects of the corset-like upper body-armor combined with the v-neck blouse synergistically. My naturally impressive cleavage became, shall we say, inspirational. “That’s enough. Anything else?”

“Yes, raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

I forget exactly what I said, but less than a minute later I was an Officer in the Hawaii State Police with full arrest powers and licensed to carry all authorized firearms. They had a name tag engraved with my name waiting for me.

“Sergeant Joan Brown, welcome to the force and congratulations.” They made me a sergeant so I’d have some degree of authority with any other police I might encounter and because they considered me a technical specialist with regard to mutants.

They gave me a compact but powerful police radio that resembled one of those old over-the-ear Bluetooth cell-phones. It was equipped with a powerful yet compact camera to record anything I looked at. I was handed a form-fitting bullet resistant vest similar to mine though smaller in *certain* places. But then most girls are not as *blessed* as I.

The State Police officer who had explained things to me earlier spoke again. “We measured Leah for this one when we moved her during the night, but didn’t have one in her size. It came in with your helo, Joanie. We put her temporarily in an oversized vest so she had some protection. We took it off her after she was safe in the Post Office. They are not comfortable to sleep in. Here’s a gym bag to conceal it.” They helped me carry my bags to the rental car. I looked at the vehicle and giggled.

“I didn’t expect *that* response. I assure you this is a good choice. A squad car would be too obvious, and it has plenty of horsepower if needed,” the officer explained.

“It’s just that my father drove exactly the same model when I was here a couple years ago, and he scraped the passenger side on one of those narrow bridges on the road. You know your basic Captain Smith, ‘Iceberg, what iceberg? Glug, glug?’”

“Titanic? You’re a wicked girl making fun of your dad. That road is notorious for fender benders. I’ve had a couple myself. Let’s load you up and get you on your way. Take no chances; if it looks too dangerous, abort the rescue. We’ll use the Marines in the big choppers.”

“Thanks, but Miki and I will get her out. We promised my friend Mel, and you don’t dare disappoint her.”

“Mel?”

“The young lady whose life I saved last fall. She’s the president of my fan club and has web chatted with Leah many times. Miki, we have an innocent to save. I’m opening your carrier so you can act as my backup. No one is to get near this car unless I say so.”

~~I will keep you safe, Joanie.~~

“Wish us luck,” I said and drove off.

* * * *

The weather was pleasant, and the scenery delightful. It was surreal to be heading into a possible armed confrontation in such an idyllic locale. I entered the small town and quickly found the small shopping center and restaurant where the Post Office was located. Under other circumstances, I would have loved to have spent a leisurely afternoon here. I parked in the municipal lot near as near to the post office as possible. I opened the windows for Miki.

~~You know what to do. I opened the windows so you won’t overheat and are free to act. Can you stay hidden but still guard the car?~~

~~I have disguised myself for years. No one can see me unless I let them, and I am filled with magic since we were bound. I have not felt this way in many years. I feel young and powerful again, like when I was first bound to a mistress. I will be fine. Do not worry.~~

~~I worry. I feel responsible for you, Miki. Here I go; wish me luck.~~ I grabbed the gym bag with Leah’s protective vest and started walking.

* * * *

It was a short distance to the post office. Few noticed me, or if they did the shorts atop those sexy legs and the half-unbuttoned, form-fitting top distracted them. I noticed my reflection in a large plate glass window and giggled at the sight. ~~ I look like Laura Croft after a boob lift. That form-fitting ballistic vest sure lifts and separates. On second thought I look like a blonde Xena. And all that leg and sexy midriff showing, I’m a menace to navigation. Eric, eat your heart out.~~ I entered the post office and walked to the counter. There was only one other customer in the lobby.

“I’m here to pickup a package. The name is Joan Brown; here is my ID,” I said and grinned.

“Please come this way Ms. Brown, as we need you to inspect it before taking delivery.”

It was a lame ruse, but it if it bought a few minutes it was worth it. I was escorted into the mail room where we could not be seen or easily overheard.

“Ms. Brown, I’m happy you made it here safely. The situation is bad. I have armed postal inspectors at all the possible entrances and a State Patrol sniper on the roof. Ms. Leah is terrified, and the only thing that has kept her together is the thought of your arrival,” a senior looking Postal Official said.

“Let’s not make her wait.”

We walked to a strong room in the facility where they stored insured mail.

“Leah, I have a friend to see you.”

“Keep away, I’m too scared to see anyone.”

“Mel will be very disappointed in you, Leah. You promised you’d be brave.”

“Joanie?” An exhausted but excited young woman came out from behind a cabinet she was using as cover. She was disheveled and needed sleep, but Leah was a tropical beauty. She was an elegant Amer-Asian/Hawaiian and a joy to behold. I could see how at 13 looking like a college coed was a problem. “Joanie, can I?” she asked, then flung her arms around me like I was a life ring and she was drowning.

“Hey, take it easy, girl. Tongues will wag if they see us embracing like this. Hey, I didn’t say to stop; this feels great.” I giggled from the tension, I guess. Leah snickered and I felt her relax.

“Mel keeps saying how funny you are. Thanks, I needed that. Am I really leaving? The last few days have been a nightmare.”

“You’re leaving with me. We’ll drive a safe distance from town where a helicopter will fly us to Honolulu and our flight back to the Mainland. You’ll love Whateley; it’s just the place for a young mutant. You have your bag packed and with you?”

“It’s with me here. I only took my most precious stuff and a few days clothes like you said.” She walked back to her hiding place and retrieved a small roll-a-long suitcase, the kind equipped with wheels and a telescoping handle.

“That should be fine, and now for your disguise, Leah.”

A female Postal Inspector helped Leah put on the lightweight body armor she would wear under the uniform blouse. We borrowed a female letter-carrier’s uniform. With her mutation induced growth spurt she filled it out very nicely.

“You look sharp, Leah. I’m jealous. Grab your bag and stay close to me. It’s a white Nissan Altima four-door sedan parked on this side of the municipal lot. The windows are open, and it’s being guarded by my mongoose; you can’t miss it. I’m not joking, I’ll introduce you to her later. Keep your head down and act normal. If anything happens, do exactly what I say and let me handle it, okay Leah?”

“You bet, Joanie. You said a mongoose, that means you brought Miki. Mel told me all about her after you left for here. I guess she was trying to cheer me up. Wow, you’re a sorceress and a mutant! Can you do any magic yet?”

“Not that I know of, but Miki can use my magic. Trust her, Leah, Miki is expert at protecting things. She’s guarding the car for us.” I gave Leah a hug and smiled at the harried postal workers and police. “Thanks for everything. Maybe someday we’ll be able to thank you properly for what you’ve done for Leah, her family and me. We’d better go now.”

~~Miki, is the way to the car safe?~~

~~It is safe for the moment. There are angry minds nearby. Some intend Leah great harm. Hurry, Joanie.~~

“Miki told me it’s risky but safe for now. Miki and I speak telepathically so hold off on the questions until we are safely out of town,” I said and smiled. Leah looked at me with awe.

* * * *

We walked out the main door of the post office and turned towards the municipal parking lot. I hit the remote to disarm the alarm. We loaded her luggage in the trunk, got in, belted up and backed out to leave.

We were almost to the main road, and unfortunately out of sight of the post office when a man ran in front of us. He fired a shot over the car when I kept driving. I stopped; he was too close to miss us but too far for me to run over before he could shoot again.

“Get out of the car and hand over the mutant. You won’t get hurt; you have my word,” the gunman ordered us. He looked nervous, angry and possibly intoxicated.

“I’m getting out now, sir.” I said clearly; I whispered, “Stay in the car, Leah. Miki defend her as if she was me.” I said rather than thought that command so Leah would hear and be reassured.

“Hurry, lady, or I’ll shoot!”

“Calm down, I’m out of the car. Can we talk this over? I’m here to take the young mutant girl to a special facility for mutants. You need not worry about her being here.”

“We take care of our own problems. Hand her over, now,” he said and sounded unstable.

“Sir, respectfully, I am an officer of the Hawaiian State Police. If you continue to demand I turn Ms. Haleakela over to you, that would be interfering with a police officer at a minimum. It also is armed kidnapping and that is a Federal crime possibly carrying the Death Penalty. For your own sake, reconsider your actions.” Then he did something I never expected.

-- Blam! --

“Shit, that hurts! I asked you nice. Oh Ghod that hurts -- Timeout!”

I time stopped him, and only him much to Leah’s later amusement. I looked carefully at him and was appalled. I’d froze him in the act of pulling the trigger and he was aiming at where my head had been. I saw people pointing towards us from the distance, and I didn’t have the time or energy to stop everyone.

“Forgive me.”

I partially unstopped him and forced the gun downward. It went off, and I released him completely while simultaneously grabbing the gun away from him. I smashed it hard against the pavement, ruining the barrel, I hoped. Then he screamed and I saw the red stain growing on his shoe.

“Christ! You shot me, bitch.”

“You shot me, jerk, and were about to shoot me in the head. P.S., I’m a mutant, too, like my friend here you wanted to hurt. It’s only your foot, you’ll be fine. You have my word, you liar. Keep it elevated, I’ll radio for help. I’d stay and patch you up, but you shot at me and your friends don’t look any nicer. It’s your fault you got hurt. Goodbye!” I said as I got into the car and started it. We took off, tires smoking as our cover was blown. I heard a few shots, but they missed us.

* * * *

“You were shot!” Leah sounded distraught, not a good thing.

“I’m sore, but I’m fine, Leah; he hit the vest.” I hoped that was the truth. To be honest I wasn’t sure and didn’t have the time to look. “That second shot was aimed for my head. He’s lucky I didn’t have the time to be more creative where I pointed that rifle of his. Are you okay, Leah, Miki?”

“I’m scared, but okay. It was so kewl how you time stopped that gunman. I wish I had your control. Joanie, Miki did something odd when he shot at you. Everything looked weird, kind of gray looking, until you subdued him.” Leah sounded less stressed.

~~I warded Leah so no harm would come to her. I’m sorry I could not ward you too. You are in pain; are you sure you were not shot?~~

~~You did great, Miki. The vest protected me, and you did as I instructed. Keep a lookout for trouble; I’ll radio ahead that we were spotted.~~ I sensed Miki was worried for me and was not convinced I’d escaped unharmed. I wasn’t sure either, but I didn’t have the time to check it out.

* * * *

I drove as fast as I dared, which was frighteningly fast by my usual standards. I radioed that we’d been shot at and I’d been hit, but believed I was okay. I told them I’d been forced to shoot my attacker in the foot and where I’d left him. They said he was already being attended to and was under arrest. The series of still photos and the audio from my earphone radio made locating the wounded man a cinch. The Marines were slowly taking control of the town but were encountering some resistance.

I slowed as I approached the National Park. I saw several heavy construction vehicles move to block the road bridge at the falls after we cleared it. I saw men and women with guns spread out and take cover as I passed by. We got to the park head quarters and parked. I felt the tension release, and the horror of what nearly happened came back all at once. I felt a burning pain in my shoulder.

“Excuse me, Leah, Miki...” I ran out of the car and half-collapsed onto the ground, catching myself just in time. A sharp pain shot through my body. My breakfast wasn’t quite as lucky as I. The ground was quickly decorated with it, much to my disgust and discomfort. I was sick, disoriented and in pain. I had trouble getting up. I tried to stand up on my own, but struggled without success. I made the mistake of pushing hard with my arms to get up. I screamed as a bolt of pain shot through my body.

“Help me, somebody please help me, Joanie has been shot!” Leah cried out.

Leah helped me — half carried me to be honest -- to sit on a nearby picnic table. A female Park Ranger came running up with a first aid kit. Over the next ten minutes or so, I saw Miki running around checking out everything and every one. She was upset, almost frantic with worry and guilt.

~~Mistress, I should have been with you. I could have protected you. I am a failure.~~

“That’s okay, Miki. Leah needed protection more than I. This hurts, but I’ll be okay.

“What’s the verdict?” I said out loud. I was in pain, but the disorientation was fading.

The Park Ranger attending me was looking more awestruck by the minute. “I can’t understand. When you got here, you were bleeding from an obvious gunshot wound. The blood is still fresh on your clothes, but the wounds are closed. The bullet hit above your vest and passed clean though your shoulder. Your uniform blouse has the holes to prove it.”

The Ranger had removed my blouse to treat me. She now showed me the blood-soaked item. If I’d had any food left in me, I would have thrown up.

“This is not possible, unless… you’re a regen. I’ve heard of it, but to see one in action," the Ranger wondered out-loud.

“Joanie, anyone else would have been incapacitated by that wound from blood loss and shock, but your body limited the loss and somehow is already well on the way to being whole again,” the Ranger explained.

“Joanie will be okay?” Leah asked.

“Yes, Ms. Haleakela, and welcome to *your* park. Help me bring your brave friend here to the park office. I’ve a cot she can rest on. Ms. Brown, you may be a regen, but that had to take energy and nutrients. I have performance drinks, energy bars and water. You need to replenish what you’ve lost before you head on. Why is that mongoose looking at us like that? They normally are not that curious.”

“Miki, say hello to the nice officer,” I said.

“Hello,” she squeaked. I got a wave of relief from Miki as she knew I was getting better.

“A talking mongoose? Maybe I need the cot more than you do.”

“Shouldn’t we be heading to the helicopter instead of the Park Office... Where is the helicopter?”

“A change of plans, Ms. Brown,” said an extremely-fit looking man in a Marine Corps officer’s battle dress uniform. “The combatants were better armed and larger in number than our intelligence indicated. We are fine, but several of my Marines and a few of the police were wounded. So were some civilians and several of the suspected terrorists. Nice job on incapacitating the man who shot you. I’d have snapped his neck, but the foot wound was non-lethal and effective. I was briefed about your *combat experience* by your Chief Delarose. He had some interesting things to say about you. I’m amazed your assailant is isn’t singing soprano.”

“I don’t like hurting people, even when they hurt me. Rampage — the Tazer to the, ah-hum -- was a special case. I came close to dying from that attack, and my reputation as a security officer was on the line. He was also resisting arrest and trying to escape. This man was merely misled, and I hope can be shown the way to redeem himself. Why no helo flight out of here?”

“They are full taking the injured to hospitals. They can’t send any more as the weather is turning bad with typhoon Amelia approaching. You could wait it out here; my men can hold the perimeter for a while, but a few gunmen are suspected of having fled town and might find you. I suggest you continue on around the island once you are recovered, which should be soon. I was informed about the aftermath of your assaults in Madison and Whateley as well. I wish all my Marines were a tough as you, Joanie. Even half as pretty would be a bonus. That was unprofessional, but I had to say it.”

“You’re not unpleasant to look at yourself, Major.”

“There is one other anti—mutant hot spot on this end of the island, about thirty-five miles from here. The rest of this end of the island should prove friendly. We’ve cut most communications to that end of the island to give you a chance to slip out the back door. If you’re willing, the State Police will come the other way around and meet you part way. A few hours driving and you’ll both be safe.”

"I’m game, but what of Leah’s family?”

“Several armored Humvees are close to Hana as we speak, and the family will be evacuated using them for protection. The state police and a military escort will guard them. They‘ll evacuate the other way around the island and act as your decoy. You are their decoy.”

“If they are safe, and this is the best way to get Leah to safety, I’m in. We need food, snacks, water and such and soon. I don’t want to be driving after dark.”

I took some time to rest, eat and rehydrate myself. Leah and Miki kept constant watch over me. I was loaned a uniform top by a National Park Ranger, it wasn’t a match but was close enough. We transferred over my name tag and I put it on with her help as I was not fully healed. The authorities loaded us up with chilled, bottled water, some snacks and gave me a nasty looking automatic rifle.

“This rifle is just in case. Face the facts, Ms. Brown, your attackers are well armed and those Tazers are short range weapons. This will give you a chance if it comes down to a fire-fight,” the Major explained.

Some of his Marines demonstrated how it worked and how to load and clear a simple jam. I fired a few bursts, and they were satisfied. Several others gave Leah tips on how to stay safe under fire. The Marines laid the rifle safely in the back seat of the car after ensuring it was unloaded. They covered it with a beach blanket and secured it to the belts using some clips. I was given a knapsack full of loaded clips and told to be careful. I told my friends as well.

“Miki, Leah, don’t touch that gun for any reason; it’s a serious piece of weaponry and dangerous.”

“I promise,” they said or *sent* simultaneously.

“Good luck, ladies. We’ll hold the *back door* closed as long as we can,” the Major said and saluted us.

* * * *

We drove at a fast but sane pace, as I was not familiar with the road and had to slow for the curves.

“Leah, have a snack and give Miki something to eat. The canned tuna snack pack should do. You can have the crackers; make sure she gets most of the tuna. The beef jerky and the sports bars wouldn’t appeal to her. Make sure she gets to drink some water; the empty tuna can should do for a bowl.”

~~Miki, keep alert for signs of trouble.~~

~~I am reaching out with my magics, Joanie. We are fine for the moment. I will warn you when it gets dangerous.~~

We kept on the move, stopping only for a few minutes at Charles Lindbergh’s former home to stretch our legs and let Miki relieve herself; she said it was important that we stop. We paid our respects at the simple grave of that complex man and were about to leave when Miki came out of the bushes with blood on her fur.

~~Are you hurt?~~

~~I am fine. I killed a bird that was tracking us. A sorceress or wizard for hire used their familiar to spy on us. That raven will not trouble us anymore, ever. It was full of disturbing magics. I found it a tasty meal, though the tuna was nice. Thank Leah for me.~~

~~~You are the expert on magic. Are we at risk?~~

~~The familiar may have reported back, but once killed I sensed no other near us. Its master or mistress will likely try again. We must go.~~

“Miki, killed an enemy spy, Leah. We need to go now!”

We drove off once more on what otherwise would have been a scenic and relaxing trip, but was now marred by violence and the threat of more to come.

* * * *

~~Joanie, danger ahead! You must get past these people. They have guns, and several in the crowd are furious at you two. They *know* Leah escaped, and her rescuer wounded one of their people. This is bad; they *know* it was you, Joanie, and have put a price on your head among their believers.~~

I saw a barricade of several cars and trucks across the road in the distance, and a crowd of a dozen or so people around it. Several appeared armed.

~~Thanks, do what you can to warn us and protect us, Miki. I will find a route through or around.~~

“Leah, keep your head down and stay calm as I run this barricade. Brace yourselves.”

“I will be brave for you, Joanie.”

I kept up my speed, easing off a bit at the end. They must have assumed I would try to squeeze though the middle of their blockade and had that well manned. I scanned frantically, and this one person’s lawn looked like a possibility. I veered at the last moment, crossed several lawns, and got back on the road. It was a rough ride made rougher by our back window blowing out from gunfire. Our ears were ringing as glass flew everywhere, and I struggled to keep the car on the road. I caught a glimpse of several men firing at us from behind, and my driver’s side mirror shattered. I saw a pair of men ahead of us on the side of the road take aim with ugly looking shotguns.

* * * *

To be continued.

Leah and Joanie escape death with Miki's help but are not sure how. A radio conversation with strange call signs leads to a rest stop and a revelation. Joanie and the MCO clash again. Leah is reunited, briefly, with her parents. A bumpy flight to Oahu leads to dinner, a night of drunken sex, surfing, TV, singing and shopping. I'm not saying who does what.

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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Oh, dear! The speaking in tongues is ... fascinating, Itinerant. Here’s a nice str ... striped jacket for you. Let me help you into it. Don’t worry, the sleeves will ride up with wear. (Sorry, the buckles chafe!)

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, 2005-2007.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Verb verification by Itinerant, verily
Wailing and gnashing of teeth by Janet Nolan of GEBPR
Special thanks to Rose_2 and Karen_J for their helpful suggestions

Chapter 7, Hana, HI 96713 -- Leah 2, Miki 5 -- A Night to Remember, The Devil’s Radio, Lord Almighty!

SW of Hana on the Pililiani Hwy and on to Kahului, Maui, Hawaii; Honolulu and Waikiki Beach, Oahu, Hawaii, May 05-May 06, 2007

May 05, 2007

* * * *

“Shit! Leah, duck and cover your head. Miki, if you can do anything to help us, do it now. You have free use of all my magic.” We were closing on the men fast. I knew we might not make it past them and that was my optimism speaking to me. We had to face the facts. We were temporarily out of range of the people at the barricade, but if these two disabled the car, or I was severely wounded, poor Leah was all but dead and maybe me, too. They had clean lines-of-fire at what would be point-blank range. We were dog meat. I’m tough, but blast me enough times with a shotgun and set fire to the car, and I don’t like my chances.

My mind was racing for solutions and finding nothing. I shouted, “Why don’t you all just go home and think this over? Leah is innocent; why would you want to hurt her?” Then with every fiber of my being I thought and said, “If you Humans First fanatics became mutants, what would you think of your vaunted *purity* then? Ah, go fuck yourselves.” Where this came from -- this vitriol combined with unnatural clarity of thought and will -- I haven’t a clue. Pure frustration, I suppose.

The moment I spoke, my twisted muse flashed this image of ... I am *so* embarrassed, but in my defense I was under stress and not thinking straight. The image in my mind was silly and more than a little hot sexually speaking. The *vision* was incendiary to be honest. My senses blurred for a moment then turned sharper than they’ve ever been. For a moment it was like I had two sets of everything. My senses were hypersensitive. I felt my tail and whiskers twitching, my clothing brushing against my skin and my two huge upper breasts jiggling as we tore down the road. There was this momentary glow, and the two gunmen dropped to the ground, writhing.

This made no sense as I was looking ahead down the road, but I was looking back at the mob; I couldn’t do both simultaneously, could I? At the time I thought nothing of it and *filed* it for later. I was ecstatic, surprised, relieved and needed to mate and soon. The sensations from my tail and whiskers faded; I was confused. I remembered seeing the gunmen collapse, then my view to the rear stopped abruptly.

~~Good going, Miki. You put our attackers out of commission. ~~ I felt sleepy and weak, then felt absolutely nothing, but it passed quickly. I was lucky not to pass out behind the wheel. Fortunately this whole sequence took but a second or two, or we’d have been in the ditch.

“Joanie, Miki’s sick! She’s gone all limp. She’s dying, I just know it!”

“Leah, are we being followed?”

“No, the crowd is breaking up, and no one is coming after us. I don’t understand.”

“I’ll stop and check Miki out, but you watch for trouble.”

I slowed and pulled off to the side, then shifted the transmission into park but left the motor running. I leaned over and touched Miki. I felt a jolt of pain from a mind struggling to come to consciousness. I could feel her tiny heart beating. Leah was crying.

“Miki’s alive but unconscious, Leah. Wake up, Miki; you have us worried. For Leah and me, please wake up,” I said and thought to her. She stirred once, but remained otherwise unresponsive. I got an insight I hoped would help.

“Miki, as your mistress I command you to wake up immediately!” I said/thought forcefully, but I winked at Leah.

~~Mistress ... forgive me, the magic overwhelmed me, ~~ she said to my mind and opened her eyes. She was lethargic, but reasonably alert.

“Good. I hoped your dedication to duty would get your attention, dear friend. Leah, please give Miki some water and anything else she requests. Let her lick it off your fingers if necessary. She’s exhausted from accessing our magic. I’ll keep guard.”

Leah was much happier, and in minutes Miki was back to normal and having something to eat. Meanwhile, I’d shut off the engine and inspected the car for damage. The rear window and the driver's-side mirror were the only damage I could see, and there was no evidence of leaking fluids of any kind. I was worried they’d hit the fuel tank, and we would catch fire or be left stranded. Once I was convinced the car was safe, I chugged most of a sports drink and felt energized. We got going after several minutes, but no one came after us. I drove at a fast, but sane, clip.

“Miki and you ... it was awesome ... You worked magic, wow! I saw you and Miki glow, even though I had my head tucked down tight like you said. That must have been the magic. What did you do? I thought we were gonna get shot by those men, Joanie.”

“I’d go back and look, but I don’t have a death wish. Miki, do you know what happened back there? Can *Uber Mongoose’s* senses reach back that far?” I imagined Miki in a wind-swept cape, boots and a big red U on her chest. I heard a squeak and felt a wave of joy, almost giggles, hit me.

~~Joanie, are you being silly?~~

~~A little, my friend. What did you do to get us out of that trap? Those gunmen couldn’t have missed. At best we would have gotten cut up badly, and at worst ... I don’t like to think of that.~~

~~It was both of us, Joanie. I tried to make them not see us. I am good at concealing myself, and I had hoped to conceal us or confuse the bad men. I wished to trick them into shooting where we weren’t. I tried accessing your magic like I would with Kushala. I do not understand what happened, but we became as one. This has never happened to me, to be completely at-one with my mistress. I saw out of your eyes and felt your feelings. It was like what I, we felt when I met your mate last night but much more so. There was this image in our mind and the magic poured through me. The power was beyond my abilities. It was too much and all went dark.~~

~~ I surmised that much and am happy you were not hurt. But what happened to the gunmen?~~

Miki’s emotions were a swirling mix of amazement, pride, good humor and major guilt.

~~Joanie, the misled people were freed of their confusion. They returned home to contemplate why they wished to harm innocents.~~

~~And the gunmen ... the hard core anti-mutants ... the bad guys?~~

~~Not guys, more like Mistress Pinky ... ~~ Miki thought to me. She *felt* embarrassed.

~~You turned the Humans First creeps into hermaphrodites?~~

~~I don’t know the term hermaphrodites. They are like your changeling *sister*, Miss Pinky, when she is of both natures. I *saw* for a moment as the magic transformed them. They are attractive women in appearance and ... *receptive* ... in season? ~~ I got another surge of embarrassment from Miki. She was clearly uncomfortable with what had happened.

~~I remember saying they should go fu ... you mean they can actually do *it* ?... They’ll go mad, or harm themselves, if they can’t stop! ~~ I was shocked, worried, secretly happy they had *got* theirs and turned on in a sick, perverted way.

~~The compulsion to mate will wear off in a few hours. Their bodies will remain as we changed them. They are not harmed in any other way, but they will no longer be a threat. ~~

“We changed them permanently? Can they get themselves pregnant?” I said out loud.

~~They will remember who they were, but they will be as they are now. They will not be welcome in their cult of hate. They are forever that which they despise, a mutant. I think we made them self-fertile, Joanie~~

“They might kill themselves!”

~~I do not know. They will have free will once the compulsion ends. You are concerned for them?~~

~~I don’t wish to harm anyone, even my enemies. Can we help them?~~

~~We are too far away, and I don’t know *how* we did it. I only know what happened to them. We would have to go back there to change them back, and I would have to access your magic. I don’t know how to control it. I have served many sorceresses; I never witnessed such power, Joanie. From what I sense now, we used but a fraction of your potential. ~~

~~That’s only a fraction of my potential power? Shit!~~~

“Help!” I whispered.

* * * *

I radioed what had happened. The Marine commander assured me help would be sent to the town ASAP.

“Melons One to Blonde One. If your report is correct, they should be safe for a few hours, until the compulsion wears off. We will have help there long before that. I’ll remind my Marines not to take advantage of the over-sexed suspects.” Melons One laughed. “My Marines are a fine unit and will act as the professionals they are. There will be no mistreatment of prisoners; likewise they will insure there are no suicides, I promise you. I am surprised and delighted you harbor no ill will, Blonde One. I saw your bloody uniform top before it was bagged as evidence. I would not be so forgiving under similar circumstance, but then I’m a combat veteran. Melons One, over,” the Marine officer radioed back.

“Blonde One to Mar ... Melons One. If someone shot at us, they must face the law. I will testify, including how and why they were transformed, if necessary. If it exposes me to more publicity, who cares? We were justified in our actions; it happened because we were in a hopeless situation. My magic *expert* hasn’t a clue how to undo it, so they are stuck. Thanks for your help. Tell the State Troopers commander, um Pineapple One -- sorry, these code names are hard to keep straight -- on the other side we’re coming. Blonde One, over.”

Leah nudged me and looked at me expectantly. “Blonde One to Melons One. Do you have info on Le … Surfer One’s family? She’s worried ... and I am going to strangle the idiot who picked my call sign. Blonde One, over.”

“Melons One to Blonde One. It could be worse. I personally said no to *Melons*. I think that’s why I’m stuck with it, Blonde One. We can count our blessings; *Miss July* was seriously in the running -- sorry. Tell Surfer One her family is through the worst of the narrow road. They were shot at once, but the vehicle armor was effective. There is a delay; Someone tried to blow up a bridge, but succeeded only in killing them selves and littering the road with shrapnel. The mess is being cleared away as we speak. Her family will reach safety soon....”

“Mom and Dad are okay?!” Leah shouted into the radio.

“That must be Surfer One. They are fine; your whole family is fine, Miss. Trust what Blonde One tells you; she and her *K9* have done well. So have you; you are one brave young woman. If you ever think of entering the service, call me. I would gladly recruit you. Semper fi, Surfer One and Blonde One. Melons One, out.”

* * * *

The road on the south end of Maui is increasingly deserted, the further south and west you travel from Hana. There are few settlements of note, due to the lack of any decent harbors. The road became narrower, and a significant section was unpaved due to its remoteness. We drove with the windows open because of the loss of our rear window, so it was a bit like being in a convertible. We kept an eye out for trouble, but slowly relaxed as no one appeared to be following us or attempting to block our way. Miki kept up her vigilant scanning, and reassured me we were safe ... for now. I spotted a small roadside park and pulled over so we could stretch, go to the bathroom, and generally get ourselves back together after the craziness earlier. Driving like that quickly dehydrates you, so a stop was welcome for many reasons.

I let Leah use the facilities first, while I kept watch. They were nothing fancy, just good old pit toilets, but then beggars can’t be choosers. Miki took advantage of a nearby boulder to obtain some privacy for her long neglected needs.

“Ladies? You two okay?” I called out.

“I’m almost done, Joanie. Um, there isn’t much tissue in here. Thought I’d better tell you before you found out the hard way.”

“Thanks, Leah, I’ll check the men’s toilet. It’s not like I’m not used to going in there.”~~Miki, are you okay?~~

~~ I’m fine, Joanie, the smells and sights here are strange, yet familiar. It reminds me of parts of my homeland, India.~~

~~You miss your old home, Miki? I could take you there someday. Of course you are always welcome to stay with me, my furry one.~~

~~I would like that, but only if you are with me. Where you are is my home.~~

I smiled and gave her a mental hug, then my bladder reminded me I had ignored it for long enough.

“Leah, I need to go, now!”

“I’m just finishing, Joanie.”

Moments later she came out, and I ran into the 'facility.' I forgot what she’d said and entered the ladies. Leah was right.

“Euwww, no paper.”

I rushed out, and I slipped into the men’s to the amusement of my traveling companions. I did my business and cleaned up. I got to thinking about Eric and began to daydream what it would be like to be traveling with him. The more I imagined, the better I felt. I got to feeling *really* good, you know? I wasn’t touching myself, honest; I’m blessed with a powerful imagination. I got this message from Miki.

~~Joanie, please, no more.~~

~~Huh-wha?~~

~~When you think of your mate, Eric, the emotions are strong. I am not used to these feelings. It is so long since I was ... I feel odd .... This is impossible!~~

I finished my business and washed my hands with one of the moist towelette packets the National Park Officer had included with our supplies.

I was walking out of the toilet, when I felt weak and almost collapsed in ecstasy. A wave of desire washed over me, and I became intensely aroused. I fought to stay focused and leaned against the door frame for support. The sensations were Wonderful and kept coming! ~~Miki?!~~

~~Forgive me, I ... I am in season. It cannot be! I have not been this way since before Kushala journeyed on the man raft ... steam ship you would say.~~

~~I am sorry, Miki. I did not know I was upsetting you. You have been alone for so long, I believe I understand your pain. I will try not to fantasize so much.~~

~~Thank you, but I sense it will not be easy for you. Please understand my difficulty, I love you as I loved all my mistresses, but I miss my own kind.~~

We all stretched our legs, drank some bottled water and generally relaxed. We served Miki some water in that empty tuna can. I was concerned as she could not easily drink while we were driving, and I did not want her in distress. The last few hours had been tense, and the short break was therapeutic. I let us rest for fifteen minutes or so, and was about to suggest we get going again, when Miki came up to me and made an odd request. I sensed she did this after much soul-searching, and she was embarrassed to bother me. She rose up on her haunches and made a slow, formal bow. She had my full attention.

~~Joanie, Mistress Joanie ... this is difficult ... I ... I request your leave to seek a male for companionship.~~

~~You want to get laid?~~ I replied and giggled. My inner *blonde* choose that moment to take over.

~~Laid?~~

~~I’m sorry, that was crude. You desire sexual relations ... What I want with Eric, but don’t dare have until he is older? You know, how a male and a female make babies together?~~

~~Please Joanie. I have been without so long I forgot how much it meant to me. I must have it; this is my first chance since Kushala left the old country.~~

~~Miki, what if you get pregnant? That is your right, of course, and I would support you. Understand, dear, it is illegal to import mongoose into the United States because your species can be destructive to the local animals. You are protected as my familiar, but your children would not be.~~~

~~ I can control my fertility with my magic. You need not fear for my children.~~ I felt Miki sigh from disappointment..

~~Ghods, you want to have children, don’t you. It’s your choice, Miki, but be careful. Before we leave Hawaii, I’ll make sure you get the opportunity. Do be careful; there are poisons people put out to kill nuisance animals, and there are cars and trucks to be aware of. There may even be diseases your fellow mongoose harbor that you have no resistance to. ~~

~~I am protected. Thank you for your concern. I long for what you have. Whenever you think of your mate, Eric, the sensations make me so sad that I have no chance of a mate at Whateley.~~

So my Miki is a furry romantic. I’m much the same. You will get your night of bliss, little one -- I promise.~~

* * * *

We got in the car and drove off. We would soon catch up with our police escort, so I felt happier.

“Leah, you know about me; I’m sure Mel gave you an earful.” Leah suppressed a snicker. “I’ll gladly answer any questions you have, but tell me about you. I know of your mutation and the troubles you’ve had, but I know almost nothing about you. What do you like to do? Who’s your best friend? Do you have a crush on someone special? Do you play sports? That sort of thing.”

“You really want to know about me, Joanie?”

“How can I be a friend and help you, if I don’t understand you? It’s obvious you’re going to be part of my *family* at Whateley, so I’d better get to know my baby sister. You know about me from the press, from Mel, and the fan-club web site. I’ll gladly answer any question you want, but what about you, Leah? What do you like about school; what’s your favorite subject? Are you interested in boys or girls? What do you want to do when you’re an adult? What do you like to do in your free time and stuff like that?”

“I like school, and I’m good in math and science. History is okay and writing and spelling and such. I don’t let the boys intimidate me, even the cute ones like David. I’m too young to date, but I like boys, I think. I like tennis and swimming, and I surf. I’ve done it since I was eight, and I’m pretty good too. Mom taught me; she was a competitive surfer in her day. I wish I could show you her trophies. I have a cousin who was teaching me to wind surf. Oh yeah, I like to chat with my friends at the Joanie Fan Club,” she said and giggled.

“Do you have a lot of friends?” ~~David?~~

“Not a huge bunch, because Hana’s a small town and the school is small, but I have friends, had friends, I guess. I don’t know if I’ll ever see them again. My mutation scared some away ‘cause I look so much older. When my power kicked in that scared the rest away, and I don’t blame them. Maybe we could be friends again, but with the shooting....”

“If they are true friends, they will be your friends again, Leah. I had to give up my old friends when I changed and became famous. I’m too much of a danger to them, so I think I understand.”

Leah thought for a moment, then looked at me with an intensity that astounded me. What she said was more shocking.

“Joanie, you said something on our web chat that I’ve been thinking about. You said what had been done to me made us *family*? You said something similar a moment ago, too.”

“I meant what I said, Leah; you are family. Jeese, how can I explain it? Leah, two of my best friends, Tom and Tina Smith, had their mutations triggered by the same stuff that was used on you, the Ultra-X-Amine homolog. And Suzy Kenner, that’s the girl I helped rescue from Lake Wisconsin earlier this year? She’s also a victim of Ultra-X and also my good friend. I don’t like people hurting others, and illegal experiments are disgusting in the extreme to me. You are family, Leah, never doubt it. We may have met under bad circumstances, but we have good things in common too, like being warpers who can stop time. Though our mutations were triggered by different causes, we are both mutants; that gives us a lot in common.”

“Uh-huh. Mel says you like cartoons and stuff? I really like Lilo and Stitch, the movie? The TV cartoons are okay, but I like the original most. There’s this line in it about ‘ohana. It stuck with me because it sounds like my hometown, I mean my old town now, Hana and ... “

“What’s wrong? Are you crying Leah? It’s okay if you are; I hated leaving my home too, but we’ll make you a new home -- my friends and I. One for all and all for one, you understand?”

“Excuse me ... I ... It hurts, you know? What I was trying to say was, when I was a little girl my favorite film was Lilo and Stitch. There is this Hawaiian word they used, ‘ohana. It means family, but in the bigger sense of your extended family and even close friends. How did it go, ‘ Ê»Ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind ... or forgotten.’ Did you really mean that when you said I was family?”

I pulled over to the side of the road, stopped the car and took her face gently in my hands. I looked deep into her eyes.

“I meant every word. Like I said before, we are both mutants and girls, right?” She nodded. “We both have warper powers and can manipulate time, right?” She nodded again. “You, Tom, Tina and my blood relative Suzy were all victims of the same unscrupulous experimenters. Leah, last Halloween I was kidnapped with the intention of being sold to similar degenerates, probably to be dissected for my mutant secrets. That gives us common ground. Plus Miki likes you, so you’re in, Girrrl. That makes us sisters or at least cousins to my way of thinking. What do you say, Leah?”

“’Ohana it is, my beautiful ... cousin -- I don’t think we’re sisters yet, but I’ll work on it.” She smiled and giggled a bit.

“Let's have a beautiful cousins hug and get going again, okay?”

We hugged and soon were back on our way.

* * * *

The road was improving in quality; the gravel was behind us, and the road itself wider and less winding. Leah and I engaged in occasional idle chat. We continued talking about her background and occasionaly mine. Leah got excited all-of-a-sudden.

“Whoa, wait a miniute! Rewind! You said Suzy is your blood relative and that she’s the girl you saved from drowding?”

“Her mom is my first cousin. She sees me as a favorite aunt, though technically that makes us second cousins. I’m overdue to help her with her powers training. She’s a mimic and needs to try copying a warper -- that’s someone like you or me, Leah. You want to help?”

“You’d trust me with your, um, niece?”

“Sure. She a tough girl and sexy sweet; you’ll like her. Just don’t get cozy with Tom; he’s her boyfriend. Suzy has a jealous streak, not that she would hurt anyone. I guess it runs in the family, because I feel that way some times about my boyfriend. We can talk about all this later. Rest or talk about yourself, whatever. We should be with our police escort in minutes.”

* * * *

We got to talking about Whateley and its facilites; Leah was understandably curious, as this would be where she would spend most of the next five years. Leah was impressed, but I noticed an air of sadness when I mentioned we were inland in the mountains of New Hampshire.

“I was hoping it was near the ocean so I could surf. I’d have to get different gear because of the cold water, but where there is an ocean there are waves, at least there can be.”

“Sorry about the lack of surfing at Whateley Academy, Leah, though I think one of the pools does have a wave generator. It won’t be the same, but we’ll find a way for you to have fun, I promise.

“Maybe I could take you out once, before we leave the islands? You’d like it; it’s fun, and you’d make all the girls jealous with your body.”

“Then we’d better do it, if we can. What do you think, a one-piece or bikini?”

“One-piece if you’re serious about surfing; two-piece if you want to make the girls jealous. Topless if you want to make the national news,” she said and laughed.

“What do I get if I surf naked?”

“Probably arrested, but the police will be very happy, if they are guys.”

“Leah!”

* * * *

We, well, I -- Leah doesn’t have a license, she is 13 after all -- drove for half-an-hour, until we saw the comforting presence of several police cruisers and a military Humvee. I parked and got out, after confirming they were who they appeared to be. After what had happened earlier, I was taking no chances. I smiled with relief once I was sure.

“I have never been so thrilled to see men in uniform!” I ran up to the nearest officer and nearly tackled him with a hug and kiss. I blushed and giggled, when I realized what I done. The reaction of the police -- all men, I might add -- was more visual in nature.

~~Oh yeah, my kind of a salute.~~ I didn’t say it out loud; I have some level of control. Admittedly not much but, hey, I was justified in being happy to meet them.

“Sorry about that. I thought you guys were used to women propositioning you to avoid arrest or beat a speeding ticket?”

“True, but then they are rarely as lovely as you, Ms. Brown,” a state police officer said, while trying to hide his ~~Oh my!~~... unsuccessfully I might add.

“My apologies. This is Leah, the young woman I was sent to help and now my friend.”

“Friend? Joanie, you are more than that. You saved my life; you will always be more than a friend. You risked your life for me. They shot you, and you worried about me and ignored yourself. I will never forget that. Mel said you were special; she was right.”

“Thanks, but I’m not that special, and you did darned good yourself, Leah. You should have seen how brave she was, Officer, and how she helped me when I was hurt. Enough of the mutual love-fest, girl, we’d better get going.”

I walked back to our car.

“No, Ms Brown. Ms. Haleakala and you are to ride in the Humvee; it’s armored.,” the senior police offer said.

~~This must be Pineapple One.~~ “That’s why we will ride in the rental car. The Humvee is too obvious. If anyone is laying an ambush, that is the vehicle they will expect us to be in.”

“But your back window is blown out, and a description of the car is circulating -- we’ve intercepted radio transmutations from Hana. Is that a bullet hole in your driver’s side mirror?”

“That’s why this car is perfect. The armored Hummer will draw any hostiles away from us and buy time, though I hope we won’t need that anymore.”

“Ms. Brown, I would be derelict in my duty if you and Ms. Haleakala travel exposed, when we have an armored vehicle at our disposal.”

This went on for several minutes. He wasn’t being *too* patronizing. He did have our safely in mind, but I am a stubborn girl and I *knew* I was right. I pulled rank on him.

“Okay, it’s agreed, Leah and I drive the Nissan while ...”

“Ms. Brown!”

“That is acting Hawaiian State Police Sergeant Joan Brown, and Leah and I *will* drive the Nissan,” I said sharply, then I added in my best *persuasive* voice, “Pretty please ... Officer?” I pouted and posed in this hips to one side, hand on hip, chest out, um, way out, licking my lips pose. Okay, I seduced him like a pro.

“All right, we’ll do it your way, and please stop doing that, Ms. Brown. You made your point, and my wife would be upset if she found a pretty young woman flirting with me.”

“I’m not seeing anyone; you can do that to me anytime,” said a young and rather handsome looking officer.

“Officer Jenkins!”

“That’s okay, he meant no harm ... You are most attractive, Jenky-wenky.”

He was, too, damn it.

We drove off with the wind in our hair, and not a lick of trouble other than a few occasions where younger men saw Leah and me at stoplights and the like. Their antics were entertaining, and I swore I saw Leah smile at a couple of the cuter guys.

* * * *

“Joanie, Mel told me lots about your powers and stuff while I waited for you to come and get me out of Hana. I know you can stop time like me, but Mel hinted you could do a lot more, and maybe I could, too, with your help.”

“Go on.” I wondered what Mel had told her. Mel was a smart girl, but might have gone too far, if she thought it would help Leah stay calm.

“She said you have these cats, very special cats. Smilodons. ”

“I do, so?”

“I’m a good student, and I read a lot. Smilodons are extinct. They died out thousands of years ago. You can’t have smilodons unless scientists did something with fossil remains like in that Jurassic Park movie. Or since you can stop time maybe you can ... I have to know, tell me. I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

“I rescued the smilodons from their dead mother during the last surge of the Ice Age. They would have died nearly eleven-thousand years ago. I can time travel, with some limitations, but tell no one. Maybe you can too, but I don’t know. Be careful who you talk to about this, Leah, time travel is a power that could get you kidnapped or worse. It was tried with me, and they only knew of my time stop and regen.”

Leah thought for a moment, then started laughing.

“What’s funny, Leah?”

"I was thinking it would have been funny if you could have time-traveled the car and us to a couple days ago and driven right past the barricades because they weren’t there ... yet? Is something wrong? You’re scaring me, Joanie, answer me!””

I don’t remember anything much of the next few minutes; I was emotional and unsure of anything for a while. I have memories of shock followed by disgust with myself, then a complete lack of the will to do anything. I took my foot off the gas, and we coasted. We nearly went off the road until Leah got my attention enough that I pulled to the shoulder, stopped, and shut off the motor. I got it together enough to turn to her and speak. The voice that came out was at first unemotional and *dead*.

“I will get you to Whateley, but you must get a new friend and protector as I am useless. I put us both at risk of being killed and for what? Am I so vain, so superior, I thought my very presence would protect us? I could have done it easily, transporting us back a couple days, but I was too stupid to think of it. When I imagine what they would have done with you if we’d been caught ...” I broke down and sobbed. Maybe it was the stress catching up with me? I know I often have a delayed reaction to stress. This time I felt dirty, a waste of life.

Our escort noticed my stop and turned back. One of the officers came to my open driver’s window.

“What’s wrong, Joanie? Are you injured?”

“She’s stressed out from earlier. Give us a few minutes.” Leah was hugging me and doing anything else she could to calm and reassure me. She continued to minister to me for a considerable time, but I could not shake the feelings of worthlessness and sobbed unrelentingly.

Poor Miki was torn between keeping guard and comforting her ailing mistress. ~~Joanie, why torment yourself? I have been a familiar since long before we first glimpsed each other in 1858, and I did not think of it. I saw you in the past, and I knew you are a great time traveler. Blame me for not reminding you. You had too many duties to think of everything. You did not fail; you got Leah and me to safety. Kushala would have approved.~~

I replied out loud in my distress. “Miki, don’t you dare take the blame ...” I was still crying, but I was getting angry. “It was my failure, understand? It was mine, never yours you little upstart ... What the hell am I saying?” I was steaming mad at Miki taking the blame, “That was MY blame! …That was my blame, huh?” It dawned on me how ridiculous that idea was, and I started to laugh. I laughed until I was dizzy, and my sides ached.

“Thanks ladies. Silly, old Joanie needed a good cry. Let’s get going, shall we?" I started the car and the convoy was underway again.

* * * *

We arrived at the airport in Kahului, Maui, our gateway out of this mess. Our escort handed us over to a fresh group of officers after handshakes and a round of hugs from Leah and me; the boys and girls in uniform had earned them. Then they left us and returned the rental car. ~~I wish I could be there for that ... ‘I don’t see why we have to pay the full insurance deductible, there aren’t that many bullet holes.‘ ... Maybe someday I could travel back and ...~~

Our new escorts from the State Police led us through the doors and walked us to the security scanners. We got VIP treatment, meaning we were rushed through security, though we and our baggage were scanned, which I had no objection to. The MCO officer was all but salivating at the sight of me. Our escorting officers informed the MCO officer we were under their protection and were their responsibility. We were nearly through when the MCO officer decided to do his duty *to the letter.* He objected to Leah and my special treatment.

“I must protest! I see, by their ID and reputation, the women with you are notorious mutants. By international treaty, I must insure they are no threat. I will file a protest over this outrageous breaking of security protocols for *those two*. How can I do my duty if known dangerous mutants get escorted through my checkpoint as if they were visiting royalty? Msss. Brown is a devious woman of unknown loyalties, and questionable morals. Our Chicago office warned us how she manipulates those with weak minds ...”

”Are you nuts? Officer Brown, that’s right, *Officer* Brown is temporarily one of us. She is a fully deputized member of the Hawaiian State Police, and every insult you hurl at her is an insult to the Force and WE do not like it. We do not take kindly to *one of ours* being *inconvenienced*. She may be a temporary officer here to aid us in resolving a difficult and dangerous situation in Hana, but she has acquitted herself admirably for someone who is doing this purely as a favor. Now, be quiet and let us pass in peace, sir.”

I tried to reason with the man. Not all MCO officers were like Captain Touchy-Feely back at O'Hare, right?

“I sympathize with your need to do you duty, Officer. I agree mutants need to be tracked for the same reason any normal person who might present a potential hazard should be careful screened. That does not make everyone who is suspicious a terrorist, and that is equally true of mutants. I had a bad experience with an MCO officer at Chicago O’Hare, but I do not hold that bad apple against you or the MCO in general. I’m willing to submit to your screening, if you feel it necessary.

“I must point out Miss Leah is a far younger woman than she appears. With respect, I would ask to be present when she is examined if only to keep her calm and cooperative.” ~~There, I’ve put out a hand in friendship. ~~ "What do you say?”

“Huh?” ALL the officers gasped as I paused. I decided to act the peacemaker. It was worth a try.

I had him by the bal**... I mean I had him between a rock and a hard place. My escort had said he should back off or else, though not in those terms. I acknowledged the importance of his duty and offered to give up my privilege. What would he do?

“This is a trick and harassment; you all heard that *thing* insult me. I’m filing a protest. Oh, it was clever and sounded oh-so-nice, but that’s how these mutants subvert us.”

“I try to be nice by offering to voluntarily give up my VIP privileges and let you do your duty as you see fit, then look what happens. If this is harassment, I’m the Pope! If that’s your response, my offer to be searched is withdrawn. Gentlemen and ladies, my friend Leah and I have plane to catch.”

* * * *

The police escorted us and our baggage to a secured area in the core of the terminal. We were lead into a small conference room where a big, and I mean BIG, hulk of a man and a trim, attractive woman waited. They appeared to be at most forty and gazed at us intensely. From the man’s cinnamon skin, and the woman’s build and face, these were Leah’s parents.

“Mom!” Leah shouted and ran to her mother.

The huge man walked over to me and smiled. “I’m Mark Haleakala, and you are Ms. Brown; I recognize you from the press and my daughter’s crazy obsession with you. Come here, dear lady.” I stepped to him and was engulfed in his arms. Mr. Haleakala was huge, I mean HUGE and all over, oh yes!

“Thnks, cn I blrth nw? … Ooooh, that’s better. Glad I could help,” I said as he eased his bear hug. He was a mountain of a man and part of me wanted to climb his summit; the rest of me blushed.

Leah broke from her mom and walked to me. “Mom, Dad, this is Joanie, and she’s just the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

We spent a half-hour or so comparing our experiences in escaping the mob in Hana. Other than a few rifle shots hitting their armored Humvee, they were fine. The attempt at blowing the bridge was too far from them to cause any injury.

When Leah described our escape and my being wounded, I saw her parents cringe. When she described the men with shotguns, her mom was on the edge of tears.

“Mom, Dad, you have got to meet Miki. Miki is the coolest, and she helped save our lives.”

“Miki? Did you have someone assisting you, Joanie? We would like to thank her, too.”

“Sure, Mrs. Haleakala.”

“Please, call me Leilani.”

“Okay. Leilani, this is Miki.” I opened the carrier, and Miki scampered out. ~Say hello to Leah’s parents.~~

“Hello, I love Leah.”

~~Very nice Miki. Let them pet you if they wish. Okay?~~

“A talking mongoose! It’s so hard to believe. My great-grandmother spoke of animals that talked to women. She said those women could do great things, that they were touched by the spirits. Are you a witch? I thought you were a mutant?”

“Mark, I’m a mutant and have some powers like your daughter. That’s why I was sent to get her out -- that and she was a fan. The authorities thought I could calm her and teach her control over her powers. I’m kind of a sorceress due to some fluke in my warper powers, and Miki here offered to teach me how to use that magic. She’s a brave mongoose, and we can hear each other’s thoughts so she doesn’t speak often. Why don’t you spend some time together? I’ll take Miki, get something to eat, and be back in, say, 30 minutes. Our flight isn’t for an hour or so, right officer?” I asked one of the officers who had been waiting with her parents.

“No, you have an hour and fifteen minutes, but that is the last flight out. This one is only here due to a mechanical problem. The typhoon is dangerously close, though we hope it will miss. Still, in two hours or less it will be too windy to even take off, let alone land here.”

“See you all in 45 minutes, tops, okay?”

* * * *

I walked off to grab some food. Miki draped herself around my neck like some cheap fur wrap, though invisible. She was demonstrating her stealth abilities for me, and I agreed it would save a lot of trouble. I found a popular, but not overly crowded, steak house and entered. I waited to be seated. A waitress walked to me and motioned me to follow

“I hope this won’t take long. I have to be on a plane that is leaving for Honolulu in one hour.”

“You got a seat on the last plane? You must have a lot of pull ... Officer Joanie? You’re a State Police Officer?”

“I was called in as a technical expert on mutants, of all things,” I snickered. “I really am an officer for the time being.” I ordered a 10 oz steak, medium well done and asked for an extra plate. “The plate is so Miki can eat.”

“Miki?”

~~Miki, time to make your entrance.~~

“Aieeee! How did you do that?”

“Miki is a friend, and could I have that extra plate?”

“Uh, su-su-su-su-re. A woman with a pet mongoose that can turn itself invisible; I’ve been working too many hours.”

“Would you add a cheese steak sandwich and bottle water to-go on my order. It’s for a young lady I’m escorting. She’s with her parents at the moment."

I ate a small salad that was part of the meal and gave Miki some water to lap from the saucer under my coffee cup. They had a big screen TV, and one of the all-news networks was on. They had extensive coverage of typhoon Amelia. The big question was ‘would it miss the islands or not,’ but there was another story on the local news; a story that worried me.

“In late breaking news, we have reports of gunfire and casualties from and near Hana, Maui. Reports are sketchy, but there is word of possible terrorist activity aided by mutants. We are attempting to get a crew there before the weather cuts off all but emergency communications with the small village.

~~It’s early, those reports are often wrong. Melons One will keep a lid on things until Leah is safe. You’re being paranoid, Joanie dear.~~

~~You were thinking to me, Joanie?~~

~~I was thinking to myself, Miki. The press reports from Hana bother me; they make us sound like criminals.~~

~~Do not worry, the truth will become known.~~

* * * *

The steak came promptly, cooked as ordered, and the waitress brought a heavy, stoneware soup bowl. “I thought this might do better for your mongoose, Ms. Brown. We’ll keep the sandwich in a warming oven until you are ready to leave, enjoy.”

Miki and I ate, then I left the waitress a nice tip; it was a very good steak. We hurried back to the secured room and Leah.

* * * *

“We hate to see our daughter leave us, but Mark and I talked it over with Leah, and we agree she should accompany you to this Whateley Academy. Someday things will calm down and she can come home, but for now Leah needs a safe place to learn all the normal stuff a person needs to know, plus how to use her powers wisely,” her mom said while Leah happily ate her sandwich.

“Leilani and I trust you. Leah filled us in on what her friend Mel said about you over the computer and what you and your familiar Miki did to protect her. If she must leave, we are glad she will be with you, Joanie. We understand Whateley is expensive. Leah’s doctor told us, before we left Hana, that she arranged for a partial scholarship for Leah as a hardship case. We’ll do what it takes to raise the rest.”

“I suggest you talk with her about applying to the Meridian Foundation for additional grants. They offer assistance to students who need help, among their other charitable projects. Tell her to say that Joanie recommended you apply; it may *grease the wheels.*"

~~Joanie, why are you laughing in your mind?~~

~~Leah will get the Meridian Grant, because I am the foundation. I’ll explain it to you sometime, Miki.~~

* * * *

Leah and I were taken, via a service corridor, to the plane and were boarded immediately. The Aloha Airlines Boeing 737 was an older jet, but reliable. There was no reserved seating, so we took the first available seats we could. Given the emergency, Leah and I set Miki’s carrier on the floor between us. This freed a seat for someone else.

Takeoff was rough. The pilots deliberately stayed on the runway longer than normal because of the strong, gusting headwinds. When we took off, we climbed quickly, shuddering many times as turbulence struck the plane. At altitude it wasn’t bad, and thankfully few, if any, got airsick. Landing at Honolulu was bumpy, but tolerable. An escort met us at the gate, and we were driven to a huge hotel a few blocks from Waikiki Beach.

“Why here and not near the airport?”

“It will be a day or two before flights to the mainland resume. All the nearby hotels are full, and you are safer here as it is a less obvious place. Wear these bracelets on your wrist, or you can put them on your ankles if you must. They are waterproof, so you can shower and swim in them. Press all the buttons at once and it signals us you are in danger. Several officers will be near you at all times. Use this cell-phone to call us anytime you leave your room. It’s encrypted, so no one can overhear.”

* * * *

They got us to our room, inspected it, and left. We relaxed, took long showers, and decided what to do. Our meal in the Maui airport had amounted to a late lunch/early dinner.

“Are you hungry, Leah? There are lots of restaurants near here; what you say we get a late supper?”

“I'm a little hungry; the sandwich helped, but I could use something.”

We called our *tail* and told them of our plans. Leah and I walked towards Waikiki and turned down the sidewalk along the oceanfront road. Miki sat contentedly in her carrier. It was twilight, and the night life was coming out, though subdued by the windy conditions.

To reduce the *shock effect* -- and no that is not a pun -- one Tazer was hidden inside Miki’s carrier; the other was tucked in my waistband and concealed by my top. I felt like a spy, ~~Jane Blonde, agent double-*D* 40, license to thrill.~~ I spotted a popular fifties-styled burger and pizza place I had eaten at the one time I’d been in Hawaii and lead us in. Leah looked at the menu board and agreed this would do. We placed our order, and Leah took Miki with her to save us some seats. I brought our sodas to the table.

“Leah, remember 125, that’s our order number.”

“Ladies, I see you are sitting alone. Mind if we talk?” I turned to see a couple of college age guys on the make.

“You can talk if you want, but Leah here is underage, and, well, I’m spoken for, but you can try.” I turned to face them as I spoke, and their faces brightened then dimmed as I spoke.

“If we’d known it was you, we wouldn’t have bothered you, Joanie.”

“Are you sure your friend here is underage?”

“I just turned thirteen; I’m sorry guys,” Leah replied and giggled like the thirteen-year-old she was.

“It’s no bother; I like to be thought of as desirable from time-to-time.” I gave them each my autograph, and they seemed happier, though disappointed.

“Orders 123, 124 and 125, please pick up at the counter. That’s orders 123, 124 and 125.”

I walked back to the counter and called out, “I’m 125.”

“Joanie, I though you said it was your 49th birthday last December,” a familiar voice called out from behind me.

“Jay? What are you doing here?”

“Getting food, and thanks for the straight line. We are here with the show to do a salute to summer from the band shell on Waikiki, if the weather improves.”

“Summer? It’s May!”

“Kickoff to summer then. This is TV; it doesn’t have to be logical. It’s for tomorrow starting at six PM. We’re doing it live, what with the time difference with the Lower 48. Could you come on? It’s a nearly all music show; you’d be perfect. We’d kick ass in the overnight ratings.”

“I don’t know; I’d have to ask Leah and our *angels*. I’m responsible for her safety. She is in danger from anti-mutant activists back on Maui.”

“You? You were the 'dangerous mutant terrorists' on Maui?”

“What?”

“You must not have seen the reports. For a while, much of the media were reporting that a gang of mutants went on a rampage, shooting at innocents and generally causing mayhem. They said the State Police and Marines were deployed to restore order.”

“Follow me, Jay ... This is Leah, the other half of that dangerous gang of mutants. The vicious animal in the carrier is Miki; she’s my mongoose and a co-conspirator in this evil plot to destroy civilization as we know it.” I giggled, but I was ticked off at the reckless, slanted reporting. “Yes, I imported a mongoose to Hawaii. It’s complicated, but she’s my mentor.”

“A mongoose is your mentor in what, killing cobras?”

“Working magic, Jay, and don’t tell anyone.”

“Wait a minute, there are wild reports of spontaneous mutations of grown men into attractive women with, um, both sexes.”

“That was an accident. We were trapped by an ambush, and somehow Miki and I transformed them; this is also not for public consumption. Jay, you’re the expert on the media; do you think I should I hold a press conference to counter these ridiculous stories?”

“The Governor of Hawaii already has, but I’d have you on my show in a second for an exclusive. She called a press conference and was outraged at the accusations. The Governor practically nominated you for sainthood, and a remote transmission from the Marine commanding officer from Hana was equally supportive. Was it true you were shot?”

“I was hit, but I heal fast.”

“I could get you on our cable news program or maybe the national news. They’d love to interview you. I guarantee I’ll get you one of our serious and fair journalists, not one of those *pundits*. They may bring in the ratings, but they demean the professionalism of the news side of the business.

We ate and worked out a deal. Leah and I had the next morning free, and in the afternoon I would rehearse and be fitted for a costume. Jay agreed to assign his two best security people to guarding Leah. Miki would stay with her in her carrier, just in case.

* * * *

We finished eating and went for a walk along the long sand beach of Waikiki. It was dark, and the waves were high due to the approaching typhoon, so no one was allowed in the water. We were passing a small wooded area near the band shell, on the north end of the beach, when Miki got excited and sniffed the air.

~~Joanie, I can smell him; he is near. There is a prime male living in this wood. I can tell from his scent he is healthy and vigorous. Please, Mistress Joanie, I *need*.~~

~~You promise to be safe, to not eat anything that could be poison? You will not cross the road unless it is safe?~~

~~ I will take great care, Joanie. He senses me; I can smell his excitement. I must go.~~

~~ How will you get back?~~

~~I know where we are staying, the tall *hotel* you called it. I know which one it is of these many tall man-buildings. I can find my way back to the room. If not, I will send you a message of when and where to meet. Our minds are bound, Joanie. We can hear each other from beyond the horizon. Please, he wants me, and I must have it!~~

I took off her harness, and she scampered into the tiny woods. The last I felt from her was intense joy and anticipation. It was a good thing she weakened our *link* at that moment, because we were both aroused. ~~The poor dear needs*it* bad. Good luck, my friend.~~ I *sent* that last bit and got a brief feeling of joy and desire back from Miki.

Leah and I will walk among the tall buildings for a while then come back this way, but take as long as you need.~~

~~Yes, thank you... Hi Mister. I shall call you Eric. Do you like what you see?~~ My link with her quieted; I knew she was alive, but I did not sense her thoughts or feelings. I think she dampened her telepathy so we might both have some privacy.

“Why did you do that?”

“Miki wanted a boyfriend, and she sensed a suitable one here. She will be safe. Let her have some fun. Do you want to do some shopping? My treat, Leah.”

"Shopping?”

“You need some clothes, and I so do I. I never anticipated so much traveling this weekend or for so long.”

* * * *

We wandered up and down the beach front road and its wide variety of shops. We window-shopped, looking for things to interest us. The guys and gals along the busy street were window-shopping us. The guys seemed pleased to see us; the gals were not happy at all. We were the competition, and they were worried. I felt so hot and sexy. My nipples were rock hard, and my panties got moist, but I was in control, more or less..

My, I am awfully aroused tonight ... Is this the flipside of all that upset and stress of earlier today?~~

We bought a few items, including some scandalously scanty one-piece swimsuits. Leah wanted to surf, if conditions allowed it before leaving Hawaii, and our hotel had a pool. As one-pieces, they would stay on in a dive or the surf. With the multiple cutouts, plunging necklines, and high-cut leg holes, they left little to the imagination. Picture those figure flattering swimsuits the lady lifeguards wore in Baywatch, but far less *G* rated. These were *shock your Mama* outfits, but who cared?

* * * *

“We are going to have such fun, Joanie. Do you want to look at that shoe store again? I saw you eying those cowboy boots, the Steve Zink model 27s?”

“Oh my, I feel odd. Whash is wrong? Oh-a-a-a!” I staggered for a few steps, my head spinning, then I was fine.

“That whash strange I felt ... I don’t know what I ...I-I-I ... That whash incredible. This is all wrong but I, oh Ghod!” I staggered again, but my mind was confused and reeling with pleasures long denied and all but forgotten.

“Joanie, are you sick.? You're swaying like my uncle does when he’s been ... Are you drunk?”

“Of coursh not, Leah. I don’t drinks. Oh, I feel dizzy. Whash is with my speeches?” I concentrated and regained some control.

“It’s not me. You were with me all night, and I had nothing alco ... alcol .. acolholic. Maybe it was that papaya. It was extremely ripe but tasted so good ... Oh my!”

“Joanie, why are you trembling? Do you want a doctor?”

“No_oh_oh_oh! Help me to our room; I know what it ... Oh My Ghod. Yes, Yes, YES!”

People were looking at me and Leah, but she resolutely half-walked me/half-dragged me into the hotel, to the elevator, and up to our room. It wasn’t easy with my occasional spasms and sudden urges to moan, squeal and pleasure myself in intimate places. It was all I could do not to offer myself to every attractive man -- and they all looked sooo attractive all-of-a-sudden, or to assault Leah, who was sizzling sexy to my senses.

She got me to my bed and ... I lost it and *let my fingers to the walking.* I felt my love deep inside me, pounding away mercilessly with his manhood, and I loved it. It felt soo good after all these years to be a woman again. To have a man on top of me once more, his powerful body making me *his* was heaven ... His hot fluids shooting into me only increased my desire. We were insatiable, but even mindless passion has some limit. After several hours of his ministrations, I felt limp as a soggy noodle and happier than since I was Kushalla’s fam ... I snapped out of it.

~~Miki ... did you ... were you? ... Was your mate any good? ... ~~

There are some secrets a woman keeps even from her familiar, like the fact I felt fantastic. Her *Eric* was *all mongoose*, if you know what I mean. If my Eric is half this good, I will be one satisfied woman.

~~Joanie? You felt my ... I am sshorry, it wasn’t my intentshhion to disturb you. I tried to block my shensations, but I felt odd after eating that delicic .. delilci .. tasty fruit and ... My head is spinning!~~

~~Miki, I think you’re drunk. That fruit was so ripe it had fermented and had some alcohol in it. Like when people drink wine or hard cider or whisky?~~

It was strangely delic, delic, tasty. Joanie, I can not return to you this way. May I stay the night with my *Eric,* so I may regain control?~~

If you are safe. I could come and get you?~~

~~I have caused you much troublesh. Let me shleep and re-recover. Meet me in the morning near the trees and beaches. ~~

* * * *
May 06, 2007

In the morning, I woke embarrassed but alert. We dressed while checking the local news. The Governor’s press conference had squelched most of the crazy rumors, except for two. The reports of men suddenly becoming female in appearance, yet possessing both sexes, remained a hot topic as was the identity of the mutants involved in the incidents on Maui. They knew I was there from the Governor, but they wanted the name of the rescued mutant. It was explained that the rescued person was a minor, but the press was in a feeding frenzy.

The other topic was the weather. Typhoon Amelia was expected to miss the islands but had slowed, so its effects on the islands would linger. Condition Black was declared for some beaches -- no activity in or near the water allowed. Waikiki, being on the leeward side of the storm, was open to qualified surfers of which Leah was one. We dressed, ate, and went to pick up my wayward mongoose. She’d sent a message she was ready to return to us.

~~Joanie, I am well, happy, and wish to return to you. Meet me in the park where you dropped me off. My *Eric* was everything I could have hoped for. Bless you for your consideration.~~ Miki sounded satisfied and then some.

After recovering her and reattaching her harness, we walked to a local surfing shop on the beach. The conditions were too extreme for a novice to go out even with an expert, but Leah had certification as a Junior Master.

Apparently she had placed high in her age group in surfing tournaments the last several years. Even looking like she did, her certification placed her well above a merely competent surfer of her apparent age. She rented a board and got expert instruction on the local hazards, and the best way to use the waves with safety. She studied the waves for some time, and the actions of the surfers out there, then she paddled out. I noticed a film crew was recording her runs, the logo on the cameras was for the network that Jay’s show was on. I wasn’t surprised; Leah was a fine surfer, and with her new body she was some serious eye-candy. I watched her with pride and a little envy while I enjoyed splashing in the shallows and sun bathing, The cameras got some great of shots of me wet, coming out of the ocean, just before Jay walked up to me.

“Joanie, that is one sharp looking swimsuit. What are you doing on the beach?”

“The girl you met last night is an expert surfer. That’s her in the bright white one-piece. It’s like mine other than the color.” I wore a reddish-gold suit to complement my hair and eyes.

“I’ll see you later today then, Joanie, and thanks." He walked off to record some of those silly man/woman on the street interviews.

* * * *
After returning her rented board, and our showering to rinse off the salt, we walked in our damp suits to the cluster of trailers set aside for the show's guest stars and staff. They were parked behind the Waikiki beach band shell and well protected by police and private security.

The wardrobe and makeup departments got us out of our suits and into some suitable rehearsal clothing. I talked with the director of Jay's augmented band -- members of the Honolulu Symphony Orchestra were added to produce a rich, big band sound. We spent an hour or two trying things out with the band. During my rehearsal, I noticed several major artists had arrived. We smiled at each other; I was known in the *business* by now, but my being there did surprise them.

Mid-afternoon, I recorded an interview with a senior and respected network reporter. We went into considerable detail about how I came to Hawaii, what happened on Maui and what was yet to happen, I answered most of the questions except for a few I though might endanger Leah. I summed things up this way:

“What happened on Maui was solely the responsibility of outside trouble makers, with the exception of several Humans Firsts who took advantage of a harmless young woman’s plight to advance their views. If she had been treated with due courtesy and tolerance, nothing bad would have happened.”

* * * *
After my interview, Leah joined me in a spacious trailer reserved for *talent*. We napped for a few hours, then ate and were prepped for the show. Leah was disguised as a precaution, and I was fitted into several costumes including a sexy cheerleader’s uniform.

I made some quick calls back to Whateley, Wisconsin, and Iowa to let my friends know I was alright and what I was going to do next. I hoped they could watch me perform, and I wanted to thank them for their support. .

* * * *

I waited on the darkened stage, my palms sweating, stomach clenching and heart pounding. I so wanted to impress Leah, and a peek at the crowd a few minutes before had not helped. There had to be thousands out there on the lawn. Up front, protected by two of Jay’s most trusted bodyguards was Leah, Miki was with her in her carrier to keep an eye on Leah just in case. The Late Show band played a shortened version of Jay’s theme music as scenes shot in Hawaii -- including Leah surfing and me coming out of the water -- were projected onto huge screens for the crowd. He came on to one side of the stage, the music stopped, and he spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hawaii and the Late Show’s salute to the start of summer. Where better to celebrate the coming summer than on Waikiki Beach, and what better music to celebrate with than ... ELVIS!

The band played the extremely brief intro, and the spotlights hit me.

(words & music by linde)
”Lord almighty,
I feel my temperature rising
Higher higher
It's burning through to my soul

Girl, girl, girl
You gonna set me on fire
My brain is flaming
I dont know which way to go

Your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love

Ooh, ooh, ooh,
I feel my temperature rising
Help me, I'm flaming
I must be a hundred and nine
Burning, burning, burning
And nothing can cool me
I just might turn into smoke
But I feel fine

'Cause your kisses lift me higher
Like a sweet song of a choir
And you light my morning sky
With burning love

It's coming closer
The flames are reaching my body
Please won't you help me
I feel like I'm slipping away
It's hard to breath
And my chest is a-heaving
Lord almighty,
I'm burning a hole where I lay

'Cause your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love
With burning love
Ah, ah, burning love
I'm just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love”

I felt like I was channeling The King. I lived and breathed the music; I sang in his key and range but one octave higher. I’m good, okay I admit it, I’m great but that would have been pushing it even for me. It was lower than I usually sing, but the tone was electric, and on hearing it later, sexy with a capital *S*. Maybe it was due to the stress of the last couple days, and the relief Leah and I were safe, I made love to the crowd. Not literally! What do you think I am? You folks are pervs. ~~Tempting, so tempting particularly after Miki and her ... *night* -- the furry minx.~~

I’d put everything I had into my performance, and the crowd responded in kind. The song ended and Jay was in heaven. It took a good minute to calm the crowd, and we performed Leah, the Roy Orbison *Hawaiian style* song. My Leah smiled, cried and applauded enthusiastically. Miki sent me a mental *thumbs up*. I finished my short set with Windsurfer, a lesser known but appropriate Roy Orbison composition. I waited for the applause to die down.

“Good evening to, you know, everybody from beautiful Waikiki. I’m Joanie, um ... I think ... Yeah, Joanie, like duh!”

The audience exploded in laughs. Jay looked like he was about to wet himself he laughed so hard

“I gotta let the big acts up on stage. Before I go I want to say, to a friend I made on Maui, Leah, dear, those songs were for you. I have one work for you, my dear friend, ‘Ohana. Oh yeah, there is one other thing folks ... Aloha!”

The show immediately went to the next performers, some unknowns called The Beach Boys. They dragged me back onto the band shell stage and sang for me, for silly old me, "Fun, Fun, Fun". The audience and I saw, on huge screens, what the TV audience saw, and it blew me away. Somehow Jay had gotten clips from Ford of me driving the Ford Thunderbird GT -- *it* had a new name now. It had little to do with the historic T-birds; it was clearly from the same line of thought as the glorious Ford GT40 from the 1960’s and the Ford GT of a couple years ago, but they saw the dollar signs in tying it to me. The original T-bird coupe was clearly a young woman’s car -- think of Susan Summers as the strikingly pretty young blonde in American Graffiti. The new GT was a coupe, and I was clearly a strikingly pretty young strawberry-blonde. I giggled and blushed like an idiot on stage. Ghod, I probable sold a couple thousand of those extremely expensive cars by how I looked driving mine.

I was half numb from the buzz of excitement and joy when Jay escorted me from the stage. Much of the night was a blur of watching performers I’d idolized serenading me and treating me like I was their equal -- no, like I was their crown princess. I particular enjoyed the performances of The Go-Go’s and The B-52’s. Jay also had several excellent Hawaii acts perform. The state is a Mecca for performers and artists of all kinds. I stood off to the side of the stage and quietly danced to my hearts content. It was nothing recognizable as a specific dance; it was me moving to the music. It felt great to let go for a while and just *be.*

The cheerleaders from the University of Hawaii-Honolulu performed a dance routine to back several of the Beach Boys songs during their second set, and then I came on stage. I would be the closing act for the show. The crowd had grown considerably during the broadcast; the police later estimated it at in excess of fifty-thousand. I wore one of their *hot* cheerleading uniforms, it might as well been a swimsuit it covered so little. In fact it was built like a swimsuit but with a short skirt and some extra fabric applied. We’d worked out a surprise during the afternoon rehearsals, while Leah was taking care of Miki in one of the trailer/greenrooms. The crowd laughed and whistled when I burst onto the stage.

“I have two compelling reasons to sing this next song. I have to do it for a dear friend of mine; I owe her my life. And ... I mean, just look ... this bitchn’ outfit is like so me, totally!”

It may have been a one-hit wonder, but what a hit. We did the Toni Basil mega hit, 'Mickey.' I had a great time singing and dancing, well more bouncing and jiggling all over the stage but it was fun. I got a mental image of a certain mongoose dancing for joy. ~~You deserved it, Miki, every bit of it, brave girl.~~ I sent her after I finished the song..

Jay came on stage, and I was interviewed briefly after the number. I answered with the Reader’s Digest version of my reason for being here.

“The young woman I escorted to safety had harmed no one, yet was treated worse than most folks would treat a stray dog. The community she grew up in, the people who knew her best, with few exceptions, distanced themselves from her in her time of need or actively tried to harm her. And for what? What terrible crime had she committed? The crime of being different.

“From the American West Coast of the early 1940’s there are still survivors of the Japanese and Japanese Americans forced into concentration caps for the crime of being of Japanese ancestry. African Americans were denied the vote and other basic human rights for decades purely for being not-white. This is not right!

“It could be the so-called white man’s turn to be oppressed someday. The same radical Christians, who think it’s righteous to push their version of morality and religion on others, will be in for a rude awakening if the fundamentalist Muslims ever come to political power. Will they demand their religious views be given precedence just as the Christian Right tried to force their views upon us?

“Intolerance breeds intolerance, and I’ve done my share of spreading hate by not living up to the ideals of freedom and tolerance. It’s not enough to be tolerant yourself; you must oppose intolerance by others. I no longer have that luxury of anonymity; I am one of the freaks, the muts, the unclean and unholy. I am a mutant, AND I am a human.” The audience applauded loudly.

“This nation needs tolerance and good will to prosper and survive in the global economy. I hope my friend Leah will live long enough to see tolerance become universal. Sorry to get preachy on you, but my blood boils when I remember what a few radicals tried to do to this innocent young woman and friend. She is here in the audience tonight by divine grace, her boundless courage, and a little help from a friend of mine and me. I must thank the valiant men and women of various local Maui police forces and Hawaiian State Police. With expert support by members of the United States Marines, my friend, her family, and I were able to reach safety and order was restored.”

Leah, though they could not identify her for obvious reasons, got a heartrending round of applause when I revealed she was in attendance as my guest. I was asked by Jay to do a couple more songs to end the two hour broadcast.

“This song I dedicate to the men and women of the MCO who are keeping the World safe from -- something or other; I’m not sure they know what it is, but it must be something pretty darn important. I must say, from personal experience, their search methods are most thorough. They will be hearing from my lawyers about that.” I sang 'Pretty Vacant' by the Sex Pistols. It was the nastiest thing I could sing in protest of my treatment, yet keep us on the air.

~~I’m gonna’ regret that one every time I go through a major airport. But that ... jerk deserved it. And then the dickhead in Kahului ... ~~ “I’d like to give a hearty well done to the hard working airport screeners who have the thankless task of keeping it safe to fly. You guys and gals are the best. My special thanks go to the screeners and security at Chicago O’Hare who went above-and-beyond their duty to assist me. On the other hand, as for the MCO ...” then I giggled which spoiled the effect.

“My last song” -- the audience moaned their disappointment -- “is a gift to those dear friends who stood by me despite my recent self-serving, self-destructive behavior. They saw I needed help, and ... I want them to know how much I respect and love them for it. I owe my greatest apologies to two: Mom, I love you as much as if you were my birth mother. And to my special someone, a quote from a favorite piece of fiction expresses it best, ‘the only way to stop loving you is to die."’ I composed myself, wiped my tear streaked face, and sang.

“Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
Alone, lonely time ...”

'Unchained Melody' been recorded hundreds of times; The Righteous Brother’s mid-1960’s version is probably the best known as it was revived in popularity by being in the film 'Ghost.' All the remaining tension of the last few days poured out of me and into my performance. Jay, the band, and everyone I could see were in shock by the end. The song had gone well in rehearsal, but this was way beyond that in its impact. The music stopped and there was a moment of complete silence. The applause hit me like the shockwave from an atomic explosion. I left the stage emotionally wiped out and a smile on my tear-streaked face.

I waited for the crowd to break up after the show, and was met by Leah and Miki in one of the makeup trailers. I would have signed autographs, but Leah was my responsibility; the TV show was pushing the limits of safety. The makeup and wardrobe people cleaned us both up and changed our looks to something appropriate for two gals in their upper teens out for a night of fun.

We were escorted out the back and made our way down Waikiki Beach until we neared the main shopping district. Miki walked on her leash like some rich girl’s expensive pet dog. I saw our reflection in a shop window and got the giggles.

“What is it, um Joan? “ She remembered not to cal me Joanie on the street.

“I look like Paris Hilton walking her dog with her fabulously skinny girlfriend at her side.

“At your worst, you are not that ditzy, Cousin ... You did remember to wear panties, didn’t you?” Now we both giggled. Miki was confused, but happy.

We switched to the sidewalk and idly window-shopped. Even Miki enjoyed herself. We got considerable action from young guys and gals cruising by on the street. Leah was dressed-to-kill, and I was bordering on illegal. I’m amazed we didn’t cause any accidents.

I spotted a jewelry store I’d been told had an honest reputation -- I had talked with our *tail* earlier -- and asked Leah to come in with me. It was late, but they were open for another hour or so to accommodate the late evening crowds.

“May I help you ladies?” asked a woman in her thirties.

“I’d like to purchase a pearl necklace for my friend, Leah.”

“Certainly, Miss, cultured pearls or natural?”

“Natural or your top quality cultured. I want Leah to have something with class; something she can wear with pride for years to come”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but with expensive and easily pocketed items ...”

“You need to copy my ID, sure. This is my Hawaii State Police ID. I’m on temporary assignment; I’m something of an expert on mutants. Here’s my MCO issued Mutant ID card or MID, and my New Hampshire driver’s license. Will that do? I have more if you need it.” I smiled and watched the fun. I preferred not to hand her any of my Whateley IDs. I was sure these would do the trick.

She looked at me, then the ID, then back again at me. She scanned them into their computer as if on autopilot and was about to hand them back when another sales person came to the counter. Her dress and name tag showed her to be the manager.

“Is everything under control, Maureen? Need any assistance? Are you alright, Maureen?” Maureen stared at me and handed the manager my IDs. “Good evening, Ms. Brown, and what ... do ... you ... Um, great performance you gave tonight, I, we saw it on TV."

“Thank you, um, Nicole, that’s most kind. What do you ladies suggest for my friend here? I want something that will last her a lifetime or more. I want your very best.”

Leah got these lovely Japanese cultured pearls, a matched necklace and earrings set. I offered to buy her a smaller all-natural pearl necklace, but Leah said it was too expensive. She needed something to remember our adventure that was positive, and the contrast with her cinnamon skin was breathtaking. I bought a gold, platinum and fire coral hair clip for Mel.

“Leah, this will go great with Mel’s blonde hair.”

“You bought a hairclip for a guy?” the sales woman asked. Leah and I giggled.

“Mel is Melissa; I email her a lot, and she’s Joanie best friend, sorry, bestest friend.” Leah giggled and I laughed. ~~I owe you one, Mel; you did everything you could to keep Leah calm. You told her I’m your *bestest* friend, good girl, Mel.~~

Buying jewelry for a man is difficult. I know what I *wanted* to buy, but a wedding ring set was jumping the gun. I thought of buying a fancy pen set, but that made more sense for someone like his dad or the Senator. I settled on diamond and platinum cuff-links and a matching tie tack, as he would soon be a fixture on the 'rubber chicken' circuit. Politics is the family business, so I have to assume he’ll be expected to give it a try. Privately, I hoped he wouldn’t, as I feared it would be hard on our children, and frankly I’m a selfish girl. If I have to wait for him, I’m not sharing him with the public anytime soon. Four years of self-denial is more then enough for me. I expect him to be at my beck-and-call after he turns 18, except when busy with his university studies. I wonder how well I’ll handle his going to the University of Iowa? At least we’ll be able to ... during breaks. He’s going to *need* the class time to recover from the after effects of his semester breaks. This is my solemn vow.

I bought a few other gifts. Matching silver friendship bracelets for my gal pals at MSG; for Dr. Sara, Babs and myself, I purchased three identical gold and platinum cameos with necklace chains to match -- the type of cameos you can put small photos or locks of hair inside. It was a logical extension of what I got for Mel the previous Christmas. Miki got a simple gold heart engraved with her name and my phone number that I hoped to attach to a breakaway collar or harness for her ~~For just-in-case, Miki.~~.

I had the various metal items engraved that night -- the manager knew how to use the machine, thankfully. The manager thought the phrase I wanted on each was unusual, but sentimental. He didn’t realize how literal it was.

“’Eternally yours’, that’s a strong sentiment.”

“They are worthy of it; I hope I prove equal to the sentiment.”

* * * *

To be continued

This is why I value your comments. ‘Ohana would not have been in the story without Rose_2’s suggestion. Thanks to Karen_J for help on police, airports and the press. Itinerant and Janet Nolan, what can I say but thanks.
The quote Joanie said at the concert is from Tanya Allen’s Tango Golf.

Joanie and Leah meet a fan, get a "ride" from Jay and indulge in more surfing. A secret of Leah's family is revealed. The mommy bug bites Joanie again as does her inability to stay out of the limelight. The girls have lunch in Boston, Miki meets the smilodons and the Sabers. Joanie has suprises at Whateley, learns of Tom and Tina's mom's progress and goes to Boston to finish up for NOVA.

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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Itinerant, straps not your style with your build? Heavens! How about this stunning ensemble’, case-hardened chains, locks, handcuffs and burlap sack swimming costume? (Harry Houdini, cleanup on Aisle 4!)

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, 2005-2007.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Guest proofing and advice from, TBA.

Chapter 8, Leah 4, Unchained Reaction, M-m-my Jen-eration, Though I walk though the valley of death, Back to Abnormal

Waikiki and Honolulu, Oahu, Hawaii, LAX, Boston MA Whateley Academy, Dunwich NH. May 06-May 12, 2007

Late Sunday May 06, 2007

Leah, Miki and I returned to our hotel after our wild, fun day. I called the airport about a flight to the US and was advised to check with them later as to when space would be available. Limited flights to the mainland were expected resume in the morning, maybe, but likely nothing would be available until mid-morning the next day, unless we wanted standby. At least that’s what the recorded message said as I waited for a live body to pick-up. The typhoon was moving away, but being to the north and east of the islands, the huge storm interfered with the usual flight paths to the US west coast. It would be several days until a full schedule could resume.

“Leah, do you want a good night’s sleep in our comfy hotel room, or do you want to wait in the Honolulu airport for Ghod knows how long for standby seats, um, seats that become available when passengers don’t show up?”

“Bed, please. I want to go surfing one last time if I can. The morning looks promising, what with the typhoon moving away and our being on the leeward side of the island; the waves should still be big, but not the near Condition Black like today. I had fun out there, but anything more would have been beyond me. The surf forecast looks really good for the morning; I checked the marine forecast from the local NOAA web site when you were practicing for the show. The Late Show people had a computer in our trailer, didn’t you know?

"I even got to talk with Mel just before I left to sit in the audience. She was in the Joanie chat room, and everyone was so excited when I said we were safe and that you would be on TV. I told Mel privately you’d call before we left Hawaii. She heard the press reports and that you’d been hurt … you will call her, okay? Please? … I promised Mel I'd show you how to surf. You’ll love it; it’s the greatest!”

“You did enjoy yourself, Leah. I’d better take you up on it since you promised her. Excuse me a moment?” I concentrated on the phone now that I had a live reservations clerk on the line.

”So you are saying there are no seats available on flights to the lower 48 for at least a day, except for standby? No that’s okay, we’re in no rush, I’ll check on availability tomorrow morning. I’m sure you don’t need the extra hassle of a so-called celebrity pestering you,” I told the airline clerk. “Not at all, Ms. Brown, um, Joanie. I saw the interview you gave about the young mutant girl. I'd hope someone would be that selfless should one of my family ever need help. Oh, nice concert! That last song you did had me crying. Get a good night's sleep, you’ve earned it.”

* * * *

We were too wound up after all the excitement. Leah and I decided a dip in the hotel’s pool and a relaxing shower sounded heavenly. We wore the same suits from earlier in the day and were looking fine. Okay, we were looking better than fine -- we were sizzling.

It was quiet in the pool; it was after nine o’clock in the evening, almost ten, and the pool was fairly empty. I don’t think either of us induced too many cases of whiplash and incapacitating blue-balls in the males present. The few individuals present smiled at me; several applauded and politely said they had seen my performance on the show. One of the swimmers, a teenager, had seen my performance at the band shell in person. He told me how much he had enjoyed it.

“Joanie?” the shy teenage boy asked after swimming up to us. “Um, I want to say I’m a fan, and I loved you on TV and you are so pretty I ….” He started to hyperventilate and forgot himself. He inhaled some water and began coughing violently and appeared near panic. My over-30-year-old lifesaving training — plus my refresher classes with Whateley Security -- kicked in, and I put him in a cross-body carry and swam him to the side of the pool. He struggled wildly, but with the cross body carry I had him in there was little he could do to hurt me. So long as we were in the water, I was in total control, it’s all a matter of leverage or the lack of it. I got him safe to the side of the pool, Leah swam alongside just in case.

“You’re safe now. I won’t let you get hurt, guy. Calm down and breathe slowly.” His coughing had stopped, but his breathing was still too fast. I was afraid he’d pass out. Desperate times call for desperate measures. ~~Forgive me, Eric.~~ I kissed the boy hard on the mouth to distract him and to build up his CO2 level to regulate his breathing — like with a paper bag, but so much more fun. He was so shocked by my sudden embrace he stopped breathing for a while. I doubt if we were lip-locked for more than a couple seconds. ~~Damn, I am good at this. I feel like Stupefyin’ Jones from the old Li'l Abner comic strip.~~ Leah helped me restrain him until he was once again in control of his faculties..

“Calm down, I didn’t mean to tease you. The kiss was to stop you hyperventilating. A paper or plastic bag would have worked, but I didn’t have one handy. If I let you go, can I trust you not to panic? I just want to talk. I do have someone I’m seeing exclusively, I didn’t mean to lead you on.. You kiss nice, though,” I said and giggled. We climbed out of the pool, and I suggested we sit on the pool chairs and dry off. He followed Leah and me like a lost puppy.

“Miss Joanie, you must think I’m a player or worse. I didn’t mean to… but I got so excited seeing you then I inhaled that water. I remember coughing, and I couldn’t get my breath; I guess I panicked. Next thing I remember you were kissing me and … I am so very sorry I…”

“What is your name? I’m Joanie, well duh, and this lovely lady is Leah and a dear friend.”

“I, ah, Dave Ohno, my dad is here for a business conference. We’re from LA.”

He was a skinny, but muscular young man. I guessed him to be 15 and probably a JV soccer player or on the track team — he had the build. I swam a lot as a kid, and some parts of the male anatomy are not impressive after being chilled in a pool, or worse after getting out of the pool. Water, as it evaporates, cools you to the point of goose pimples and, um, shrinks things. This is true for guys, believe me, I remember. I’ve learned that it has the opposite effect on women, at least with regards to these two places. To his credit he did not stare at our chests … not too much, mostly.

I am embarrassed to admit — but then I am a female, so I suppose I do this on autopilot — I looked at his crotch. He may have been wet and a little cold, but part of him warmed up fast. Leah noticed and laughed nervously. I remembered her difficulties with sexually aggressive boys and tossed him a towel.

“Dave, cover *that* up. Leah’s uncomfortable, and there are others around.” I said softly. “Don’t feel bad, *it’s* supposed to do that in the presence of an attractive girl.” He looked down and used the towel immediately. I almost suggested he needed a *bigger* towel — the poolside towels were positively huge — but I’d embarrassed him enough. Even my inner girl has her limits -- she does, I swear.

We had a pleasant chat, which helped me relax. I think it helped Leah, too; as she and Dave talked awhile, I went and showered to get the chlorine out of my hair and suit. Leah rinsed off after I finished. Dave and I spoke in the meantime.

“Leah is a nice girl. Does she have a boyfriend? She must, I mean she’s what, 17, 18?” Dave was obviously smitten with her.

“Thirteen, barely, but if you want to write to her you can give me your e-mail address, and I’ll see she gets it. She’ll be attending the same school I teach and study at. Hey, I’m not just a pretty face.”

“I’ve noticed.” He broke into laughter but was still blushing intensely. I figured he had to have a redhead in his family history.

He gave me his email address, and I memorized it. It was easy as it rhymed. Leah came back, and he repeated it to her.

“Will you write to me? Joanie tells me you're only 13, but I just turned fifteen last month. You are pretty, and I liked talking with you, Leah. Whad’ Ya say?”

“Okay.”

He left the pool one happy looking boy, and left Leah with a dazed expression. I questioned her as we dressed for sleep.

“What’s the funny look for, Leah?”

“Dave, I … He’s hot!”

“After what happened to you, the guys trying to ... You liked a boy?!”

“He was nice, and I felt safe with him, you know? I don’t think it would hurt to email him.” Leah was smiling in a *I’m not here at the moment, if you wish to leave a message,* kind of way.

~~Jeese, Leah is zoning out like I do when I see Eric … Oh no, she’s discovered boys!~~

“It’s a good thing this will be by email. You have that look in your eyes, Leah. Be careful, I don’t want you being hurt again. I know dating isn’t easy, I sucked at it as a man. I worry you’ll be taken advantage of. You are vulnerable because you want to trust again. It’s great that you do but still.…”

“Stop acting like my mom!” she said.

“Leah, your mom would not dress like this.” I pointed at my shock-your-mama bathing suit.

“Oh yeah? You should see her when she wants to go out dancing with dad. She wears outfits you’d say are sexy. She may be my mom, but Mom’s no old lady. Remember she taught me to surf, and she’s still better at it than I am.”

“Are you sure your mom isn’t a mutant, or your dad?”

That got Leah to laugh. “No, but sometimes I wonder.”

* * * *

May 07, 2007, Monday

We woke early on Monday morning; the sun was out, and with the wind diminishing it was just an absolutely beautiful start to the day. I was about to call the airlines for reservations, when I noticed a message on our hotel phone from Jay. Leah was using the bathroom so I played back the message.

“Joanie, I didn’t want to disturb you, so I left a message instead. Corporate is thrilled with my suggestion, so if you’d like, we’ll give you a ride back to California. If you wish, another corporate jet will fly you and your friends back to the airport near your school. No strings, dear, just our sincere thanks for a great interview and an outstanding performance on the special. Your producer contacted us, and we arranged with Warners to a joint release of the music from the show; the other bands agreed to it as well. They are thrilled to be on a recording with you. We expect to depart around 6 this evening, Hawaiian time. Call me at xxx-xxxx to let us know. Girl, that last song had me in tears.”

I hung up and found Leah had exited the bathroom at some point during the playback of the message.

“I didn’t hear it all, but do we have a flight?”

“The network agreed with Jay; we can fly back on the Late Show's charter, if we want. That gives us time to shop and surf.”

“What are you waiting for? Call Jay.”

“I hope my cell has service here, I’d hate to pay a hotel phone charge.”

“Joanie, I read somewhere people can pick up cell phone conversations on a scanner.”

“This is a secure phone … Wait a minute, you're right, this is a secure phone, but only when connected to another secure phone. Better bite the bullet and use the hotel’s landline. The risk is low, but you are my responsibility, Leah.

"Let’s see the laminated instructions by the phone say dial nine for an outside line. All local calls are, … Hey that’s reasonable and no surcharge? Not too bad. Maybe that’s why the police put us up here. Okay, here goes, Ahoy-hoy, operator, I wish to make a telephonic call to …”

“Joanie, what *are* you doing?”

“Making a phone call?”

“You were acting like Mr. Burns on the Simpson’s. I appreciate you wanting to cheer me up but we do need a flight out of here.”

“Spoil-sport. Okay, 9, then doot doot doot, dit dit dit boing!”

“Joanie, stop making those silly sounds."

I was about to reply with some of my devastatingly wicked repartee when someone picked the phone. Really, it was this great line, totally original but I don’t remember it. Would I lie? Don’t answer that. So, as I was saying, someone picked up the phone.

”Jay here, how may I help you?”

“Jay, it’s Joanie and her friend; Are you serious about giving us a lift?”

“Joanie, absolutely I’m serious. It’s the least I can do to thank you for appearing on the show.”

“You have two passengers then.” ~~So I lied about Miki, but she’s a carry-on … Damn my conscience.~~ “We have some luggage, and I have a live animal with me I must transport in the passenger compartment. She’s very valuable to me.”

“Not a problem, we have lots of room onboard, Joanie. Be to the airport by five. I’ll leave word with airport security that we are expecting you two for our 6 o’clock charter.”

I thanked him and hung up.

“Joanie, get your swimsuit on NOW! We are going surfing.”

We called our *tail* and checked out of the hotel. They graciously stored our luggage in a secure area and invited us to use the pool shower to clean up after our swim, if we needed it.

* * * *

The surfers and sunbathers on the beach gave us a good looking over, while Leah got us some boards. The waves were low enough a novice could go out with supervision, and Leah was well qualified.

“I saw you yesterday; you rode those big waves like pro. You’re great, miss; ever consider competitive surfing?” the Surf shop attendant asked.

“I have, junior level. I’m only 13.”

“Thirteen? I thought you were least 18. You must be good, particularly given how tall and, um, developed you are for your age. A big growth spurt often throws off an athlete’s sense of their body, their muscle memory. It hasn’t slowed you a bit; you looked great out there, yesterday.”

“I felt like I grew up overnight,” Leah said, as we both giggled. The poor man turned beet red and tried to hide his growing embarrassment with a clipboard. ~~With all the good looking women that he must see, you’d think we wouldn’t have that effect on him. Are we hot or what!~~

Leah gave me a good hour’s dry land instruction. I was taught how to paddle, how to stand up, surfer rules for right of way, and when to bailout, kick out, chicken out, whatever she called it -- all the basics in an intense, condensed version. The girl knew her stuff. Other surfers, several obviously experienced, watched us and nodded their approval.

I’d like to say I took to it like a duck to water, but to be honest, I spent much of that morning spitting up water and sand. Come to think of it, that is how puddle ducks such as mallards sift for food in the mud. Quack!

Leah was patient and kept me out of harm's way, and I did manage a couple modest runs before we had to quit. It was intoxicating, the feeling of being up on that board, the water rushing past, the water soaking my suit, the guys staring at my tightly clinging semi translucent swim suit while wearing their wet clinging … I’m getting turned on again, aren’t I dear d/j/w?

Reader’s Digest version, I -- we had a blast. There was something that had bothered me while I was out on the board, something in the back of my mind, but it wasn’t important at the time. We came in, turned in our boards to polite applause, wolf whistles and worse; I was in heaven and put a little extra into my walk.

The owner of the surf shop congratulated us. “Not bad for a beginner, Joanie. I recognized you.” He turned to Leah. “Miss, you were great out there. Ever considering completive surfing or the pro circuit?”

“I need to finish school first, and I have some other problems to work out before I could do that. I do love to surf though, that’s why I dragged Joanie out on a board.”

“If you ever change your mind, look me up, I have contacts with most of the major tournament organizers here. “ He handed her a card. “Your rental agreement says you are Leah Haleakala from Hana, Maui. Are you related to Mark Haleakala? He was a fair surfer back when I competed in college, and I believe he was from near Hana.”

Leah giggled. “Mark is my dad; he still has his trophies. He’s pretty good on a board yet but fixes boats and fishes for a living. My mom taught me to surf.”

“Your mom must be good. Was she ever surfing buddies with Leilani Naalehu of Maui? Your style reminds me of her.”

“It should, that was Mom’s maiden name.”

“Please call me!”

Leah signed autographs for the group of surfers who has watched us; I was ignored. Apparently her parents were surfing legends in the islands, and by default that made her surfing royalty.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so famous?” I asked as we walked to the showers.

“I’m not; Mom and Dad are. Jealous are we, Joanie?”

“You bet,” I said and snickered.

* * * *

We were showering to get the sand and salt off our bodies and suits. I turned off my shower and this pulsing spray, like an oscillating lawn sprinkler but much faster, hit all over my lower body.

“What the...?”

~~Forgive me, Joanie, I was drying myself.~~

“Miki?” I said, unable to control my surprise. She was near my feet shaking the water off herself, much like a dog, a handy trick for a fish loving mongoose. ~~I thought you stayed on shore in your carrier?~~

~~I must be near you in case of danger, it is my duty. I rode on Ms. Leah’s man raft, surf board. She is at one with the water, and it was exciting. I was near to both of you, and I can swim without using magic.~~

~~No problem, so long as you were in no danger; I’m simply surprised. If you are dry, get back in your carrier so we can get our luggage and change into travel clothes.~~

The garments for bathing are not suitable? The male humans thought your dress most attractive. Is that not good? ~~

I was shocked, to say the least. ~~Remember how cold it gets back home at Whateley? Remember the white time of death, winter? These swimsuits would not be practical. Most people here wear more clothing than this.~~

~~Forgive me, Joanie, you are right.~~

I thought I sensed something from Miki, something strange and … ~~Is she laughing? Why the little, minx … mongoose devil.~~

~~Miki, have you been playing a joke on Joanie?~~

~~Is Joanie not pleased at my attempt ?~~

I started to snicker and giggle and couldn’t stop; soon Leah joined in as did my furry trickster.

~~N-n-n-n-o, you did fine.~~ I broke up again. ~~I’ve been duped by an animal hardly bigger than a house cat. My Ghod, I AM a blonde!~~

~~Joanie, I like to hear your happy sounds, but there is truth in my joke as you call it. It is hard to explain … I saw how happy you were playing in the great salt water. The people looked on you with desire and envy while you wore the white … swimsuit. Yes, a white swimsuit. I understand more of your language now, but it is not easy. Seeing your happiness while in the swimsuit, I thought you wished to remain like that. When you stopped the man box on wheels … the car, and were consumed with pity and grief I was scared. I feared our enemies had somehow attacked your mind despite my efforts.~~

~~You mean on the island of Maui when I was rescuing Leah, after we had joined our police escort?~~

~~Yes.~~

~~I was upset that I had risked Leah’s, and all our lives, because I did not think things through.~~

~~I said then you did well, and I did not think of you using your time travel power to save us either. You can not be perfect. Only the Goddess is perfect, praise be to her. You must not let your burdens make you sad.~~

~~Huh?~~

~~Your helping Ms Leah for one. Your acceptance of becoming a sorceress under my protection is another. There are other burdens. You must seek the happy things of life. You must be with your mate. My mate was … it was … I am complete again. You need your mate, your Eric, to complete you. You will have many babies. The girls will make great sorceresses and mothers; the boys will be leaders and fathers of a great clan.~~

~~Whoa! I *need* my mate, my Eric, but he is too young — though technically he is ready and able. I’ve seen and felt how *ready* he is and … NO! Miki, don’t project your desires on me. I must wait; humans may be capable of siring and conceiving children at Eric’s age and even younger. That is not to say it is right, or advisable.~~

~~If a girl gets pregnant too young, her physical development as a woman can be harmed along with her long-term health, education, social status and more. I’m sure Eric could have me pregnant quickly — and most happily -- but he is not ready or able to support a family, and he would be harmed. His education and remaining childhood would suffer. He is sexually capable and virile at this age — that is true -- but he is not mature enough to do so of his own free will. Oh he will want to, and I want to, too, but it would not be right. It is hard to explain, but humans are not fully adults just because they can make babies. We take longer than that to become competent as adults, if ever. If I love him, I must wait.~~

~~I feel your pain at the thought of waiting. But I feel pride and anticipation at what will happen if you wait. Oh my, I did not understand. You are right. My Eric was a mature male, one in his prime. I understand now. Forgive me in my enthusiasm. Your Eric is a fine man now; a few cycles of the sun … a few years, will make him more so. I will wait to be guard and teacher to your children.~~

~~What is all this *my children* about? My great-great-yada-yada grandfather said it, and the precognitive lady in Dunwich also said I would have many children. Do you see something of the future, Miki?~~

~~I cannot say. By your desire for each other, and your auras, I am certain you will have many healthy babies together. When I watched you to see if you were my next mistress, I saw as you spoke on the man box, the phone you call it. The sound of your Eric made your aura sparkle with colors. I have never seen its like before. My Mistress Kushalla glowed when in the presence of her Englishman, but nothing like you.~~

~~I have had many mistresses. I know what I know. You will -- the goddess willing -- have many beautiful children with your Eric. I am certain of this, and I will do all I must to make it so. Joanie, I ... I see trouble, much pain ahead, I know not what or when, but you will survive. I do not know why I know this. I could not see things yet to come before. Since we bonded, I have sensed things I did not know of. Does this make sense?~~

~~I may have a latent precognitive talent, as I have a telepathic/empathic talent that you have access to with me. Maybe you are more capable of sensing these visions. They are rare for me. Miki … How many children will Eric and I have?~~

~~The future is always changing, but it will be many. Redheads and so alike! You will be a busy mother.~~

~~I think that’s enough, Miki. Now I’m really worried.~~

* * * *

We walked back to the hotel, finished dressing and retrieved our baggage. We thanked the staff then called our *tail* for a ride to the airport. I had them drive to Matt’s house as it was not far out of the way, but he was out so I left him a sweet note on a scrap piece of paper I had in my bags and slipped it through the mail slot in his door.

“Joanie, why did we stop?” Leah whispered.

“I met a man I went to school with on the plane to Hawaii. I promised to stop by, if I could. He was a good friend when I was a little boy. Oh well, maybe next time; I hope we can visit your parents in not too many months, if things settle down.”

“You would do that for me? Thank you!” Leah squeaked and squeezed the stuffing out of me, rather pleasurable given her delightfully precocious pulchritude --- i.e. her prematurely abundant charms. That tiny remnant of my male ego was screaming in outrage at the unfairness of it all. The rest of me reveled in her generous spirit.

The police escorted us past security, though we did walk through the scanners and have our bags x-rayed. The MCO officer had enough smarts to butt out of this one. I think the word had been passed to them to *chill it dudes*, likely from on high. My suspicion was either the Governor of Hawaii or that hunk of a Marine Corps officer had called ahead on our behalf. If it wasn’t for Eric I’d be begging to have that Marine assault MY beachhead. ~~I must be relaxing after all the turmoil of this trip; I’m so, ah, okay, I want sex and want it NOW -- happy readers?~~

We were escorted all the way to the network's *charter*, the very latest model Boeing 737 executive jet. It had wide leather seats spaced well apart, every convenience you could want, an attentive staff, and it was all on the network's dime. Oh, sure, it was *old* technology but updated, efficient, reliable and it was free.

“Glad you could make it, Joanie and Leah. Let me help you with your bags.” We were getting the full VIP treatment; Jay was helping carry our bags.

“Thanks, but you don’t need to; the ride is kind in the extreme.”

“Joanie, I have selfish motives. For one, word will be *leaked* how the network provided you a ride back from *storm ravaged* Hawaii.”

“Ravaged? The typhoon missed the Islands by hundreds of miles.”

“TV thrives on hyperbole, but you must admit the storm cut the islands off for a while.”

“True … I sense you’re not telling me all.”

“Nothing untoward, Joanie, I assure you The network hopes, make that requests, your permission to film this and to interview you in flight.”

“That explains the shoulder cameras as we boarded. So long as Leah’s identity is protected, Jay, I see no objections. What do you say, girl? Do you want to talk about your ordeal?”

“Sure, if you can do like Joanie says. I don’t want to put my family at any more risk than they are.”

“You have my solemn promise, Leah,” Jay replied.

We strapped ourselves in after securing Miki’s carrier and soon were on our way.

* * * *

We leveled off and preparations were made to film. Leah was disguised again, she made for a stunning Scandinavian blonde. They even touched up her skin to hide her normal cinnamon tone. After a meal, we were interviewed. Everything on the jet was first class; we had poached trout, much to Miki’s delight. I‘m beginning to think she’s a fish-o-holic.

I was pleased at how mature Leah came off in responding to the questions. She may be thirteen, but she proved she was no child. One response was particularly memorable. He asked her, essentially, if she felt she was at all at fault for causing the confrontation in Hana, Maui. I know he was playing the Devil’s Advocate, but I was ready to leap at his throat until she spoke and I saw his reaction.

“I am the same person I was before I mutated. I even look the same, just a little older and prettier,” she said and giggled self-consciously. “I wished only to live as before, yet my family and I were attacked. The only reason I can think of was my mutation. I, we, committed no crime. I, we, threatened no one, yet we were shot at and threatened by a mob. Why?

“And we were not the only ones put at risk. My brave friend here, Joanie, put herself at risk to get me out. She came to diffuse the danger; she came to help prevent violence, and they shot her. They tried to kill a peacekeeper. Why?

“Because they fear the unknown, I guess, because mutants challenge their view of the world. Some call us monsters, but we’re people, too. If monsters are creatures that hurt people, what does that make the people who attacked us? Mom and Dad taught me it’s okay not to agree with what others think, but you should respect their right to think as they do. I want only to live a normal life. I have no intent to harm anyone or to change their way of life. Why do they hate me? ”

When Jay smiled and gave her a hug, I knew what he had been doing and gave him a hug and kiss he’ll remember for years. He deserved it.

* * * *

We finished the interview and spoke socially. Jay was charming and quite intelligent. We slowly relaxed and spent the last few hours napping. I woke shortly before landing in LA.

~~Miki, you’ve been quiet. Why?~~

~~I sensed you needed rest, and I was thinking.~~

~~Are you missing your *man* already?~~

~~No … yes. We, my kind do not remain together after mating. I wish it was like humans, this ohana, *family*, thing feels right. You understand?~~

~~Miki, family, and the love of another, is like the bond with a familiar. Magic is not involved, but it can be magical. In the best relations, each one anticipates the needs of the other. When my parents were at their best, I swear they finished each other’s sentences. When they were at outs with each other, they knew how to hurt the other with a simple glance. Most of the time they were a happy couple, and that is how I choose to remember them. I intend to have you visit my dad and my sister sometime, my blood family. Knowing them may help you understand me. Family is not always fun or easy, but to be alone is … I couldn’t cope if I was alone.~~

Lonely, I understand. I am not lonely anymore, Friend.~~

* * * *
May 08, 2007, Tuesday

We landed at LA well before dawn and inquired about our flight east. The network’s charters were all busy at the moment, but one would be available in six to eight hours to fly us to Berlin and Whateley. The alternative was a commercial wide body to Boston-Logan. That was departing in just over an hour, and there was the chance of standby seats. The network people booked us on the commercial flight as we wanted to get to Whateley the quickest, but they said to call them on a special number I programmed in my cell if we needed a ride. They even paid for our fight. Leah and I grabbed our bags and Miki’s carrier and hustled to the gate.

We were able to stay in the secured area the whole long way down the terminal — it would *have* to be on the far end from us — so we never had to face the security scanners or the MCO. The attendant at the gate said our chances of a seat looked good and to sit near them so they could call us once they knew for sure.

Thirty-five minutes prior to departure, they began to board. Many of the passengers recognized me and most smiled. Maybe one or two frowned, but that was to be expected. Fifteen minutes prior to departure, we were called along with a few others on standby. It was in coach, but fortunately the seats were near each other. Miki would have seat next to Leah, who was a seat ahead and across an aisle from me. I secured my guitar and our luggage above. I turned to sit down and discovered I was the subject of keen interest by the passengers around me, particularly the men. I was furious for a second then I realized *I* would have stared at me if I was still a guy. I smiled, bowed and sat down sensuously. ~~Good thing I wasn’t wearing that swimsuit, I might have started a riot.~~

A mother in the row ahead of me had a difficult time with her child. He was in the terrible twos I suspected, and everything was “NO!” at full volume and for any reason. He refused to be strapped in, and despite the help of a flight attendant he was still on the loose.

"Ma'am, I’m sorry, but if we cannot secure your child, we must escort you from the plane. It’s dangerous to have anyone or anything unsecured on takeoff or landing. The alternative is we do carry some children’s tranquilizers, if you are willing," said the flight attendant.

“No, I can’t drug my child, it’s against my religion,” the frazzled mother cried out.

“If I may, I might be able to help, flight attendant? I’m a fully deputized law enforcement officer in several states.” ~~Religious objections or not, who would drug a child? That’s sick.~~

“If you think you can. In five minutes the child must be strapped in and reasonably calm, or they are off the plane; I have no alternative, I’m sorry, ladies.”

I unstrapped myself, moved forward and knelt by the child.

“What is your child’s name, Miss?”

“Austin and he’s two years old.”

Austin, no wonder he’s acting up. My grandfather hated that name.~~

“Does he have a favorite song? I sing a little.”

“The Itsy-bitsy Spider.”

“I knew there would be days like this.” ~~Could be worse, could be Barney.~~

“The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,

Down cam the rain and washed the spider out,

Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,

And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again.”

I did this complete with the obligatory hand gestures. I must have looked a fool, but the boy laughed and smiled at me. I didn’t care, and thank Ghod it wasn’t YMCA by the Village People. Mind you, that is a catchy tune. I kept singing as we strapped him down, and in a few minutes we had him secured. It was that or time stop him to strap him in and freak the poor child.

I went to sit in my seat, and he started to cry. The flight attendant looked at me like “So what’s next?” I don’t think he wanted to kick them off, not after the bad press several airlines got after similar incidents.

“Leah, take my seat, and I’ll take yours.” We swapped seats. I couldn’t watch her as I wished, but she was near me. More importantly, *Austin the Terrible* was now across the aisle from me where we could see each other, and I could make silly faces for him. Austin shut up, and a relieved flight attendant gave me a deep bow then rushed to his jump seat for taxiing and take off.

We got into the air okay, with my making occasional silly faces and soft silly sounds for the boy to keep him distracted. His mom looked at me as if I was her guardian angel. The huge, flat-panel TVs came on, and we saw the obligatory passenger safety procedures. After explaining the snack and beverage program on the plane, they began to show network TV via a satellite link. The attendants offered ear buds for cheap, which I bought for Leah, myself, and the harried lady.

I set the volume low and was keeping the little terror distracted when I thought I heard something familiar. I think it was coming attractions from the show we were about to see. I vaguely recall the phrase 'special encore presentation', whatever they meant by that. I looked at his mom; she was looking at the screen. She turned and looked at me, her eyes locking on me for a moment, them she looked back at the screen then at me and motioned for me to look up.

~~ That looks like the band shell at Waikiki. Another concert …? Oh Ghod!~~ I saw what concert it was and turned up the volume. I could see in my peripheral vision the mom share her ear buds with her child. The music started and this glorious voice sang out:

‘”Lord almighty,
I feel my temperature rising
Higher higher
It's burning through to my soul

Girl, girl, girl
You gonna set me on fire
My brain is flaming
I dont know which way to go

Your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love…’

It was me doing that Elvis hit again and ~~That costume made me look … I mean I ... I look like *that* when I perform? The woman in the Playboy shoot was sexy and fun loving but this woman is so much more. Ghod, I’m a star!~~

You’re asking yourself, ‘Why are you reacting like this, Joanie, surely you have seen yourself on TV?’

The answer is a qualified no. I’ve seen the press coverage of the rescues, and I’ve heard my recorded singing, but I could never bring myself to watch much of what I do on stage. I’ll admit I’ve watched myself, but I can’t concentrate on it for long -- I feel odd looking at myself. And the little I have looked at I’ve tried to block out of my mind. Oh, and stop calling me Shirley. Stop your moaning, readers; it’s my story, can’t I have some fun?

At least Austin was happy. He was looking at the TV, listening and giggling quietly, so something good had come of this. When the other performers came on he’d look at me occasionally and smile, even giggle. When I came back on stage he was riveted to the screen.

I was a minor wreck, nerves-wise. I felt compelled to watch myself crash-and—burn, but I didn’t. The girl, I mean that WOMAN, on stage had that audience spellbound. I remembered I felt confident once I started singing, but this woman-child I watched was fearless and sublimely happy. Her voice was liquid sex, and combined with that body and how she moved it, if she wasn’t a woman, no one was. And she was me. It was fascinating to watch the show from a different perspective. The show ended almost too quickly then I sang my last number, Unchained Melody.

I found myself softly singing along, but I must have gotten louder at the end, because the cabin erupted in applause when I stopped and they weren’t looking at me on the screen, they were looking at me in my seat. I unbuckled myself, stood, smiled and bowed, trying not to cry. Austin and his mom looked at me, the boy smiling like it was Christmas morning, and the mom was crying happy tears.

* * * *

The rest of the flight was a blur. I was tired and my emotions had been on a rollercoaster for days now. I remember giving the mom my e-mail address so she could write me, and her boy insisting on giving me a hug and kiss. I remember various passengers and crew thanking me though this one man looked at me with contempt as we deplaned. The HF tie tack was a give-a-way – Humans First.

* * * *

In Boston, I called to arrange transport. It was a little after nine o’clock in the morning, daylight savings time.

“Charlie Lodgeman is busy all day, and I’ll have to see when my sister is available, Joanie. If you could get a flight to Berlin, it would help,” Tina Anderson said from Administration.

“I could have had one if we were willing to wait another five to seven hours in LA. Let me know when your sister, Chris, can leave, I’ll see what I can come up with in the meantime. I know the trains are a possibility, but with the baggage and all, I don’t know.”

I made a few inquiries. A charter would take too long to arrange, and commercial was worthless as there were few flights to anywhere closer. Bus connections sucked. It came down to buying or renting a car, waiting for someone from Whateley, or taking a series of trains to Dunwich. We decided on the train.

Leah helped me study the timetables we’d got from the info booth. We found we had a couple hours long layover between the local light rail/interurban system and the Grand Miskatonic Shuttle, if we left now. There were later light rail trains that would still make the connection. We had the time and hadn’t eaten decently since the network charter flight, so Leah and I went to get something to eat. We took a cab to where the local travel guides said were lots of good places to eat. We ended up at an interesting Italian place, Nicola’s. I had heard of them before. It was very small chain of independently operated restaurants, all owned by relatives of the founder. They had a reputation for simple food, done well, at reasonable prices. Plus they were supposed to have a friendly, homey atmosphere. It had the added advantage of not being fastfood. I’d had enough of that on my trip.

“I’ve heard of this place a few times since moving east, but never had the time to stop in. They are a very small chain, Leah, but frequented by some famous people. I pointed to a wall of photos of ordinary people, local politicians, and major celebrites posing with restaurant staff. A waiter found us a seat and got us a menu. We had ordered our meal and were munching on a basket of fresh Italian bread and butter when a familiar voice spoke up. It was my Nova producer. She walked over to us and spoke.

“Joanie, great to see back you in town. I heard about Hawaii; everyone did, it made the national news. Are you in town for long? We could finish up the NOVA narration with a couple days hard shooting.”

“I have to return to Whateley and get Leah enrolled; I’ve been gone too long, but maybe this weekend? What are you doing here?”

“This is a favorite of mine for lunch; it’s not far from the studios. Come Friday evening, we can work for a bit, put you up in a good hotel and finish up on Saturday and Sunday. Any narration you can complete with the TOH crew during the week will help.”

“Deal.”

* * * *

We were well into our meal, nearly done in fact, when a well dressed man came to our table.

“Allow me to introduce myself; I’m Anthony, and I’m the manager here. Have you enjoyed your meal?”

“It was nice, and I loved your seafood sampler. I’m from Hawaii, and I know good seafood,” Leah said.

“Me too, not that I’m from Hawaii, but it was an excellent meal.”

“You may have noticed our wall of fame in the lobby? We take photos of favorite patrons, honored guests and celebrities, Ms. Brown. I would be honored if you ladies would grace ours.”

“What do you say, Leah?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

One of the staff took several pictures of Anthony, Leah and I as a group. She took some with just Leah and I together as well. I suspected she was using a digital camera; a few decades back its predecessor would likely have been a Polaroid. We returned to our seats for a complimentary dessert -- some sinfully rich, chocolate pie. I like chocolate. I don’t usually love it, but this pie beat sex. That’s not a completely fair comparison, as I have yet to savor a bite of Eric, but still....

“Joanie, that pie was …”

“Yeah, want to smoke a cigarette?”

Once we stopped giggling, we got our bill, used the ladies room, and paid. I noticed OUR picture was up, with Leah and I flanking the manager. They must have had a photo quality printer on site.

“Joanie, do you see whose picture we are next to?”

“Is that who I think it is? Good lord, it’s Tim Conway!”

“No, silly,” Leah said and giggles, “That is Alexis Eden with Jennifer Stevens, and you are much prettier than either.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

"No, I’m not.”

And so on until we caught a taxi to a Boston commuter rail station. The trip to Whateley was memorable in that nothing memorable happened. After Maui, that was memorable. In a matter of a few hours, we were in Dunwich and picked up by the ever attractive Chris Anderson for the short journey to Whateley. I’d like to say Leah was excited when we arrived late in the morning on campus, but we were both worn out.

* * * *

I concentrated on settling back in after my strange trip out west. I got Leah to Administration, where they filled out her paperwork and assigned her quarters. They would call me when her processing was finished so I could help her. Tina Anderson promised she’d be well cared for. I gave Tina a scorching kiss to make sure of it, and one to Chris for picking us up. I’m a touchy-feely kind of girl, and it was fun.

* * * *

I checked on my smilodons who looked at me like, “Where the hell have you been, stranger?” This aloof indignation lasted for maybe 30 seconds before they pounced on me, viciously rubbing against me and grooming me with their rough, wet tongues. After our reunion, I threw caution to the wind and brought in Miki’s carrier from out in the hallway where I had placed it temporarily.

~~Trust me, Miki.~~

~~I trust you. The tigers, um, smilodons I worry about.~~

“George, Gracie, this is Miki. You met her before, and she’s a friend. She’ll be staying with us, so be good. Down, stay!”

They got down, but kept their eyes on me and my *surprise*. I took Miki out of the carrier and set her next to me on the bed. I could see their muscles tensing.

“George, Gracie, stay!”

I reached into my mini fridge and tossed them each a piece of raw steak. Pinky and I always made sure some was kept there. I gave Miki a piece, too. This is a trick often used to introduce animals to each other or humans as well. Eat together and you are less likely to eat each other. I think with humans you are supposed to cook the steak, but I could be wrong.

~~You’re on, Miki, showtime.~~

~~Joanie?~~

~~Be your cute, sweet self and make some new friends. You can always swat them a good one on the nose, if they get naughty.~~

~~That’s going to stop *them*? … Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil — yeah right!~~

~~No backtalking, missy. You’re picking up bad habits from me. Don’t be afraid, I’ll jump in if they do anything. Okay, Miki?~~

Miki approached George and stopped, sniffing the air. George sniffed back, but remained calm. Miki came closer, they sniffed each other then started grooming themselves. George gave Miki a couple friendly licks. I felt so much better. After a few minutes, Miki was expertly grooming their ears and was *definitely* on the smilodons *A* list. The big fur-balls were purring … honest. Miki was happy too.

I heard a knock on my door and was met en-mass by the Sabers. The Sabers were all over Miki and me. Tom and Tina — the ringleaders today — had told them all about my furry sidekick. The twins, on their return, had been eager to speak of their mother and my stow-away. My friends hardly wanted to talk about anything else; well, there was Leah and all the TV coverage.

“George and Gracie like Miki! Aw, that is so cute!” Jenny said in a saccharine tone.

“I think you overdid the *cute,* but I’m very happy they get along.”

“Joanie, why do you keep talking like that, *cute butt*? There are young minds here that your foul language may harm.”

“Jenny!”

The gang was disappointed Leah wasn’t with me.

“She's getting checked in as we speak; you all know what that’s like. If all goes well she’ll be at lunch. At the worst, I’ll make sure she’s at our band practice.”

* * * *
Tina gave me a call on my secure cell/police radio once Leah was settled into her dorm; she had some spare time and took Leah on the abbreviated campus tour, seeing how tired the two of us were. She put Leah on, and we decided on a place and time to meet up. I made a mental note to do something nice for Tina and Chris.

I met Leah at the Crystal Hall for the late lunch; regrettably the rest of the Sabers had class. Cheryl had to work the lunches and couldn’t make it. Leah was sitting alone at my favorite table when I arrived, and I could see she was an immediate hit with the students, or more correctly, was being hit on big-time. She was apprehensive, but after the excitement of her escape from Hana, a few good-looking boys trying to impress her made her smile. She seemed to like the attention; she even blushed at a particularly handsome boy’s compliment.

~~I wonder, did her mutation accelerate her emotional and sexual development in addition to her physical development? The way she reacted to the boy in the hotel swimming pool and the students today was …~~

I sat down next to her, and the kids eased off, though a few die-hards still tried to impress her.

“I see you remembered where I said to sit.”

“It was easy to spot, and Cheryl, the cashier, reminded me when I went through checkout. She introduced herself and smiled at me. She was real sweet and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Are all the students here so friendly? So many of them were smiling at me and saying hello.”

“Boys or girls?”

“Boys mostly, but some girls were real friendly — Cheryl sure was. I can’t get over how good looking most of them are.”

“Leah, you have to keep in mind you are an attractive, exotic woman.” She interrupted me by giggling.

“I’m okay looking, but I’m not some exotic model or actress.”

“Leah, you need to rethink your self-image. I don’t know what you looked like before your mutation, but take it from me, you are a major babe. I wouldn’t lie. There is enough of the man left in my mind to see you as a hot looking woman, and I do mean woman. People keep telling me I’m an attractive; the Playboy people certainly think that. Leah, you look older than your real age, have lovely Eurasian/Hawaiian features and are new to campus. That makes you *exotic*. Naturally the boys and girls will want to taste the *new flavor*. Most are harmless, but a few are unscrupulous, so be aware and let me or the other Sabers know when you agree to go anywhere with someone. I’m not telling you not to make friends or who to date, but use some common sense. ~~Oh, lovely, Cheryl has the hots for Leah. Then Cheryl has the hots for several guys and me as well.~~

“As to why so many here look great, a large number of mutants are exemplars, and that usually leads to their becoming an idealized version of themselves. You and I are examples of that. Being too much of an exemplar is bad, though. The further you get from the normal human baseline, the greater the chance for problems. That can lead to GSD — Gross Structural Deformity, you’ll learn all about that in class along with powers classification and all sorts of neat stuff. I doubt that will ever happen to either of us. Physically we are very fit but not superhuman. Superhuman or not, you did well on our escape from Hana, you’ll do fine here.

* * * *

I checked with my instructors as to what class assignments I had missed, and with the departments I most frequently substituted for as to my teaching schedule. Security told me to check in with them the next morning.

I formally introduced Leah at the evening practice session.

“Gang, sorry I was gone so long, but something came up.” They laughed. “This is Leah Haleakala, from Hana, Maui, in the State of Hawaii. She’s smart, funny and an expert swimmer and surfer. She is also just turned thirteen so watch it.” Cheryl looked disappointed but not completely discouraged. Tom looked like he was practicing his x-ray vision on Leah, which is odd because he doesn’t have any.

“What powers do you have? Have you been tested?”

“That is Suzy, Leah, she’s a powers mimic and a dear friend as everyone here is.”

“Suzy, um, she’s your second cousin? Mel told me one of the girls was. I see a little resemblance in her,” Leah whispered.

~~Mel and I need to talk but under the circumstance no foul.~~ “Yeah, but never mention it outside the group,” I whispered back.

“Suzy, I’m an exemplar and warper a lot like Joanie. I don’t know if I have any other powers. I can stop time just like her, but I don’t have good control yet”

“That sounds like fun. And it’s okay you know about us,” Suzy said softly and discreetly pointed at herself and me.

I finished introducing her to everyone and asked the big question. “Do you want to try out for the Sabers? There is no shame in failure. Tom here tried and sucked; he still sucks, but he helps us with set up and such so we tolerate him.”

“Okay.”

* * * *

She tuned her ukulele; she’d managed to pack that in her carry-on without crushing it; I was very impressed. She played a few tunes, singing along with her playing. She was self-conscious at first, but warmed to us quickly. Next she got out her harmonica and played that.

“What do you think?” Leah asked when she stopped.

“The uke was lively, and the tone was good. Am I right that since it’s a four string, Leah could be taught to play banjo, bass guitar or even violin fairly quickly?” Pinky observed.

“Violin would take some time because it’s a fretless instrument, but banjo and bass should be a cinch and I know my string instruments. Very good, Leah,” said Jenny. “If you like, I can teach you banjo and violin, if you teach me the uke.” The rest all said similar things. Tom spoke last.

“I thought Leah was great. Leah you play well, and I think you have a sexy singing voice.” Leah giggled. “But best of all you’re a class A babe, and among the Sabers that says a lot. You’re hot, hot, hot! I could give you the in-depth campus tour, take you to all the best places for …”

At this point, I punched Tom in the upper arm, hard.

“Ow! Why did you hit me?”

“Because if I hadn’t, Suzy would have kicked you in the groin, Tom. Flirting with a girl in your girlfriend’s presence is tacky, very tacky.”

“Joanie, I am shocked. And, Joanie, I would have slapped him in the face. I have plans for what’s down, you know. Why would I want to harm that? Joanie, roll your tongue back into your mouth.”

“Then you haven’t, um …”

“No, *Mom*, at least not all-the-way.”

-- Thud --

“Joanie, cut that out. I know you’re faking that faint.”

“No, I’m not!” And to prove it I stuck out my tongue. I am so mature.

“I was jerking your chain, Cuz. All we’ve done is hug and kiss. We do it a lot, but that’s all and I mean it. I want to be sure before we … go further, and Tom agrees, believe-it-or-not.”

“You’ve all heard Leah. Is she in the band, an auxiliary like Tom, or just a friend like Mystor?”

She was voted in unanimously, and we both had ... we all had a good cry. I think Leah and I set the others off. Tom is no dummy. It may not be *manly* to cry, but his quiet tears scored brownie points with the gals. Something about “Being a sensitive person and not a macho jerk,” I think that’s what Cheryl said. The end result was Tom received kisses from all the girls WITH Suzy’s permission. I kissed him too.

“Tom, that was impressive conning that many girls into kissing you, and if you do it again, you’re dead,” I whispered in his ear, then giggled.

“Ms. Silly is back, and she’s BAD!” I slept great that night. I dreamt I was kissing Eric and we … I wonder why?

* * * *

May 09, 2007, Wednesday

I needed to get back into my routine. The unexpected trip to Hawaii had thrown my ordered life into chaos. You believe me don’t you? So what if it’s was more accurate to say it threw my crazy life into the Twilight Zone, but you understand. I needed to get back on track, however warped and twisted it was. After our group morning run and breakfast, I resumed my part-time teaching and checked in with Security. Both the students and Security bombarded me with questions about my trip. I answered what I could, but some details had to be kept vague as there were pending criminal cases.

That morning I learned I would be soon be training with, and formally inducted into, the New Hampshire National Guard. Whateley had a cooperative agreement with the State Guard and Reserves much as MSG did back in Wisconsin. They provided training facilities and support, and we provided much needed expertise in handling mutant supers. My induction and abbreviated *basic* training was scheduled to begin in a week.

I figured it wouldn’t be all that different from in Wisconsin, and the odds of our ever being called to active duty were minimal; what would the military want with us anyway? Okay, we are the experts when it comes to mutants, but look at me, what can I do other than jiggle my boobies to distract the baddies, though there is the time stop and time travel. Then there is the transformational magic if Miki and I can ever figure out how we did…. They really could use me, yikes!

* * * *

The day was crazy busy, what with making up missed classes in the morning, teaching one period of intro mutant history and pulling a half shift with Security in the afternoon. That latter part was painful, as they helped me analyze what I’d done right and wrong in rescuing Leah. I think I got a B over all. I would have gotten an A- because so few got hurt, but lost points on misjudging the shooter. The magical transformations Miki and I did they didn’t know how to rate.

“The word will get out that someone did magic, major magic, to facilitate your escape. Eventually you or Leah will be targeted,” one officer worried.

“I think the cover story the Marines spread may work.”

“Cover story, Chief Delarose?” I asked.

“I spoke with the officer in charge of the rescue. They, Melons One that is, are spreading the story that an elite covert operations unit trained in magic was part of the operation. It has the semblance of truth behind it, you were brought in as an expert on mutants, time manipulating warpers in particular. With Miki, you technically were a unit. A group of skilled military wizards is more believable than the truth, that a total novice and her mongoose transformed a half-dozen grown men into true hemaphrodites AND convinced a whole town to take what amounted to a child’s *timeout*. Who would believe that?”

“I feel better, I think, Chief.”

“Oh, I was told to pass on that, when the Marines were told they were designated Melons One to your Blonde One and Pineapple One, the consensus was, “We are WHAT!?” That is the censored version; the unedited responses were *colorful*, or so I’ve been told. I understand that, after they learned you’d been shot and how you handled it all, they are having an embroidered patch made they will be permitted to wear on their dress uniforms proudly proclaiming them as veterans of Melons One. They, the Marines, passed on through their commander, a request that you autograph the copies of Playboy they would be mailing to you once published.”

~~I bet that wasn’t their only request, they are healthy, fit, young and … Could have been fun … I need a looong run and a very cold shower.~~

* * * *

That evening after practice, I hustled to the farm to check on progress. Miki accompanied me at her insistence. That small section of woods beyond my farm continued to worry her.

~~That place beyond your land is a focus for dark powers. I must not let you near it without my protection. I know not what it is, but it is tied to an ancient evil, and it is getting stronger. The evil and the source of its growing power remain distant, but I fear it will come.~~

~~Are the people at the farm at risk?~~

~~Not directly from the evil; your farm is at worst neutral ground. Parts are now a sanctuary or will soon be; I am working to make it so. With your magic and my skill, the entire farm will be repellent to demons and evils. The wards at Whateley are powerful, but our wards will be formidable given time. I will not let Kushalla’s fate happen to you and yours. You will be safe from magical attack. That does not mean you will be safe from man. The wards will warn me of trespass but may not keep out a determined animal or person. That is how I failed Kushalla.~~

~~That is why I consulted Whateley security for ideas on how to protect the farm. We will work together to keep all our loved ones save.~~

* * * *

I caught up with the camera crew, while Miki patrolled the farm doing whatever she does in warding things. The sun was setting minutes before 8 o’clock in the evening — it was late spring after -- so the camera crew used the extra hours to plan the next day's shooting, get close ups of the latest work and so on. The construction workers were gone by then except for my ever diligent cleanup crew. A pair of off-duty Whateley Security officer patrolled the grounds -- on my tab, of course. ~~They made so much progress while I was gone, they all deserve a bonus.~~

“Hi, Joanie, great to see you back! You missed the foundations being finished.” They showed me pictures of Fran *flowing* the local stone into place on the new farm house and the barn conversion. Fran’s face was suitably unidentifiable on camera for her protection. The entire barn was supported on great timbers, which in turn were boosted by hydraulic building jacks. It was low tech, but reliable and efficient. Fran had repaired the farmhouse foundation with her gift, and dug and shaped the entire barn house foundation. The excess rock was in a storage pile to become walkways, drives, a pond, swimming pools, and so on as further construction made possible.

We agreed to do some TOH and NOVA narration filming for a couple hours Thursday morning and night. It was too late for anything today.

* * * *
I was settling in on my second night home when my cell rang. I smiled when I saw the caller ID.

“Sis, great to hear from you. How are are you ….”

“Have you gone nuts? I thought I knew you, but your mutation and fame have gone to your head. How dare you snub Milwaukee like that! What kind of stuck up bitch are you, sis?"

"Whoa! Slow down! What did I do, Sis? I admit I like the limelight, but I would never be deliberately rude."

"Joan, they had a press conference to announce last minute changes in the headline acts at Summerfest; it's their 40th anniversary. The press noted your name was not on the list. Someone asked why the hottest new singer in America was not on the bill, particularly when she is from the area. The entertainment director hemmed and hawed a bit, then all but stated you turned them down flat. He intimated you thought Milwaukee was not worthy of your talent. He didn't say it that way, but it was the message I got."

"Sis, no one ever asked me to perform at Summerfest., My producer never said a thing about Summerfest to me. I'll ask him; let me call him and I put you on a three way with him...."
* * * *

“Warner Records, how may I help you?”

“This is Joanie, can you get Mr. Karaoke on the line? It’s very important, please?”

“You sound upset, Joanie. Are you alright?” I dealt with his receptionist before, so she knew my voice well.

“I’m fine but something has upset my sister, and when she’s upset, *I’m* upset. I need my producer’s help with this, please.”

“I’ll put you through. By-the-way, Joanie dear, he has a name.”

“Yeah but it’s more fun this way.”

* * * *

"Joanie, a pleasure as always. The recording from your performance in Hawaii is making the network and us a bundle. What a night you had! So what can I do for you?"

“Excuse me, recording? You released another recording?”

“You weren’t informed? The Waikiki show was so well received that the network, the other performers and their labels all agreed to release the music jointly. I approved in your stead, and here we are. The first shipments hit the record shops two days ago and already we are sold out. We are also offering this as a download — for a reasonable fee — and the servers can barely keep up. At this rate it will go multi-platinum — physically -- before the end of the month. In downloads, we are way past that already. Is this what you and your sister are upset about?”

“No, I trust your judgment in this area. It’s the recent Summerfest announcement of their headliner acts. The news has her upset; she is on the line and is pissed at me. Please answer her questions with absolute honestly."

“The entertainment director for Summerfest says Joanie turned them down and insulted her old home town. My sister says she was never asked to appear; this year is the 40th anniversary of Summerfest in Milwaukee.”

"Ma’am, we were never contacted about Joanie. Oh, Summerfest asked for a list of any of our contract artists who were planning to or might tour. I specifically suggested they book Joanie, saying only that she had security concerns because of the kidnapping, but we could work that out. I even admitted she'd likely waive the huge fee an artist like her usually receives in exchange for a modest contribution to a reputable charity. I also told them I thought she was the nicest person of any of our artists. God's honest truth, I would never lie to Joanie's sister."

“Sis, forgive me for yelling at you like that. I should have known better.”

“If I’d heard that press conference, I’d be angry at me. So what do WE do about this?”

“WE, Joanie?” Mr. Karaoke exclaimed.

“Well, my sister’s role needs to be discreet, but I did mean WE.”

“I can start spinning the usual damage control. Warner’s could issue a press release refuting the Summerfest entertainment director’s story.”

“That’s not bad, but I want this jerk to hurt. I mean, calling me a stuck up bitch — well not in those terms — and not mentioning my looks at all? I am so upset, fer sure!”

“That’s my broth … sister alright, silly like a loon. What else have you got in mind, oh devious one?”

“Can you get me the phone numbers for the news departments for the four biggest Milwaukee TV stations and a half dozen radio stations? I have a pot to stir.”

“Joanie, do me a favor and take it easy on the Val talk; your mind could get stuck like that.”

“Sis!”

* * * *

My sister tore through the phonebook with her usual efficiency; she is a branch supervisor at the bank. Mr. Karaoke and I broke up the list and called. A few stations were rude, but most I called recognized my voice and agreed to interview me via a web video link. I figured the stations that didn’t believe me could try calling Warner’s later after I'd interviewed with their competitors, and I *might* consent to a phone interview. He had better luck, but then this was his business -- developing and promoting talent.

We launched a coordinated, multi-pronged assault on the entertainment director. ~~I feel like General Patton.~~ Warner’s went first and announced they had offered my services to the festival, at a bargain price to boot, and hadn’t received a nibble despite Summerfest’s strong interest in a number of their other artists. Summerfest argued I had raised unreasonable demands. Warner’s countered with, “What demands? We said she had security concerns but that they could be worked out. They never asked us what her worries were. I can assure you her fears are justified and the necessary accommodation would be trivial. ” Mr. Karaoke played his part magnificently.

I told the interviewers a consistent and honest story. It was the truth, which helps, believe me. I suck at lying.

“I was shocked to hear Summerfest hadn’t made any effort to contact me. I was, until recently, a lifelong resident of Milwaukee County and would love to perform in front of a hometown crowd. I have family in the metro area, and this would be a golden opportunity to visit them. I am concerned about security because I was kidnapped in Madison last year, and I fear for my fans if another attempt is made. Given the excellent on-grounds security and camera system at Sumerfest only a modest change from their procedures should be needed.

“My sister read me the riot act when she heard I wasn’t coming. Believe me, you do not want to anger a natural blonde; they’re dangerous,” I said then broke into giggles. ”Sis is going to get me for that one. I’m sorry they dropped the ball; I would love to come.”

I poured on my natural charm and had the press in my hands, except for a few whackos who objected to a “mutant” corrupting the youth of Milwaukee. They, of course, chose not to interview me lest their world view be shattered. My *corrupting* Milwaukee’s youth was total nonsense, as the only youth I wanted to *corrupt* was Eric, and we had a deal about when that would happen — after he turned eighteen and not a moment sooner. ~~And not a second later either. Your eighteenth birthday will be memorable for both of us, or else, Hon.~~

Summerfest then argued I had a previous commitment and was not available. They were half-right. My schedule did conflict, but the festival -- which runs from a Thursday though to the second Sunday -- wasn’t starting until June 28th. I was scheduled to be back on Sunday, July 1st and we let the press know that I was hardly *unavailable.*

Then they brought out their trump card. “If we’d only known she was available we would have loved to have her here, but now that all the stages are filled it wouldn’t be fair to hire her at the expense of someone else. Perhaps she might be interested in performing next year?”

I felt so much better after that heartfelt expression of admiration. I’m being sarcastic you know.

We countered one last time with an argument he couldn’t refute. “I’d have no problems performing with another act, or several for that matter. I don’t *have* to be a headliner. It would be a joy just to perform for the home crowd. I’ll gladly perform for union scale and donate that back to the local American Red Cross.” ~~Slam dunk for Joanie, I think.~~

They stuck by their guns, saying it was too late to reprint all the festival schedules, and they were sorry. The press kept up the heat, but a new story stole the local headlines.

“We gave it a good try, Joanie. I can see about getting you a gig at one of the other big summer festivals, or maybe a State Fair?”

“I’d like to, but I wanted this for my sister. My summer is pretty busy, so I guess I’ll take a pass unless you really need me. I owe you for trying.”

* * * *

May 10, 2007, Thursday

By Thursday, I was back in the groove, more or less. Leah joined in with the gang for the morning runs; she would have preferred to surf but …

“Joanie, I need a big favor, not that you haven’t done a lot for me already,” she said as we ran around the campus with Tom and Suzy in the lead.

I got the impression Leah worried Suzy, what with her exotic and surprisingly mature looks. I doubted Leah would do anything to hurt my friends after all we’d shared in Hawaii, but the siren call of her budding sexuality was hitting her hard. Most kids have months, even years, to adjust to their changing bodies and minds. Leah was having to do it virtually overnight. She understood logically, but I was worried she’d fall easy prey to the first person to get her in a *clinch*.

“Yes, Leah, what do you want?”

“I understand the big campus swimming pool has a wave machine. Would it be possible to surf in it?”

“Possibly, why do … oh you want to try it.”

“Yes, but it’s hard to get any time in the pool, so many others use it. But you are on staff here, and I was wondering …”

“Okay, I’ll ask. You’ll need a wet suit; the pool is cold, plus a wet or a dry suit would be great for windsurfing. We may not be right on the ocean here, but there are a lot of lakes and rivers, a windy day and you're set; you don’t need waves.”

“Thanks, that’s a great idea. I’ve done some windsurfing, and it’s fun. I’ll see if Dad can send me one.”

“Or you can order through a catalog or online. Find what you need, and I’ll pay for it; you pay me back someday with lessons, all right?”

I got a shriek of joy and an equally enthusiastic hug from Leah for my troubles.

~~Maybe it will keep her mind preoccupied long enough she can get control over her self.~~

* * * *

I kept reminding myself I needed to finish my narration duties for NOVA. Meeting with my producer in Boston was an unwelcome reminder of my delays. It was embarrassing how behind we were from where I had hoped to be. I met with the TOH crew at my farm early that morning, and we talked with the NOVA director and producer back in Boston via a video link

“Joanie, it’s not that bad. As I said when we met in Nicola’s, if you can come Friday night we can finish this weekend. We were ahead of schedule; your first sessions went that well.”

“But I thought we didn’t do all that much?”

“Some of your so-called tests were so good we’ve decided to use them in the program. If you are willing to put in some long hours, as I said the other day, we can finish this week. The TOH camera crew is willing to work until eleven tonight to help you, and if you could come this weekend to the studios we should be done. Don’t feel like you promised something then didn’t deliver. Hawaii was unexpected, and performing on the live special was justified. You needed to unwind after the horrors of the girl’s rescue, and it was an excellent opportunity to counter the vicious rumors the anti-mutant types were spreading. Oh, do us a favor and bring your menagerie; our nature producer is driving us crazy.”

“Bring my menagerie?”

“The *cats* and your mongoose. The film crew saw and filmed your *cats* while you were out of town. Ms. Conners brought them to your farm. Those *cats* are impossible; they cannot logically exist. To put it bluntly: Where the hell did you get live smilodons? The TOH producer showed the video to an expert on extinct and modern felines, and he freaked. Our expert consultant for a NOVA on the Ice-age wanted to know how we faked sabertooths. I promise we will keep your name out of it, but we must see them. As to the mongoose, we are in the early stages on a special on magic, the myth and reality. What happened on Maui was remarkable. Our sources say a battle-hardened unit of military mages -- a mongoose and her sorceress novitiate -- was behind those amazing transformations. Don’t worry, it is not public knowledge. My brother is a Marine Corps colonel stationed in Hawaii; you met one of his Majors, I believe.”

My eyes went wide, and I mouthed, “Melons One?”

She nodded and continued, “If you are willing, we’d like to use your Miki in a segment on familiars; no one need know she is yours. You must admit she’s unique; a black cat she is not.”

“I’ll do that, but I’ll need to be convinced about my anonymity if you do use them on camera. I don’t want my animals put at risk, right Miki?” She materialized out of nowhere. It still gives me the willies. The camera crew broke up laughing.

“You have *got* to bring her. That was amazing.”

“And she works for food.” I giggled shamelessly.

~~Joanie, were you telling a joke again?~~

~~I’m afraid so, Miki. That was a nice entrance, dear, very theatrical. You impressed the television people.~~

* * * *

Tom and Tina’s classes were such today that we had lunch together. This was the first time since I’d gotten back from Hawaii the three of us were alone.

“I have to know, how’s your mom?”

“She’s slowly getting better. The doctors decided the best treatment was to do all the conventional medicine first: fix her bones, cure her infections, that sort of stuff. They are giving her lots of counseling to help her handle her grief, and physical therapy to keep her joints and muscles from deteriorating. After she is healthy, she will receive her magic makeover,” said Tom.

“Mom and we agreed, as much fun as it would be for her to be my identical twin sister and thus make us triplets, it wasn’t practical. She needs to earn a living and to be an adult. She’s seriously considering being transformed into a college age woman. She’s torn between becoming a younger version of herself or someone new. Mom has a little Native American blood in her ancestry and possibly even some African American way back. The thaumatologists say it’s easier and more predictable to change someone based on their ancestry. They would adjust the mix, so to speak. I’m hoping for a kind of Selma Hayek/Raquel Welsh/ Holly Barry/Hillary Duff blend. Mom would be hot,” Tina said.

“You want your mom to be hot?” I asked.

“Yeah, she deserves to find another good man like Dad; why not go for the very best? They might transform us to look like what we would have been if this version of Mom had married Dad so that no one could question that she was our mom. They’d probably have to make us younger too, though, and I like being a teenager. They might still do it, but Mom would now be Mom’s much younger cousin; that way Tom and I could stay as we are or as teens at least. She could always get carefully faked papers naming her our guardians, like she was the best college pal of mom and dad or something.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

* * * *

May 11-12, 2007, Friday and Saturday

* * * *
I made my call to Eric and Babs earlier than usual. Notice I said Eric and Babs, well … and Mel too, usually. I’m making a point of talking to Babs every time I can to help keep up her spirits. Both Eric and Mel, my friends and spies, say she’s doing well, but I don’t want her to become anxious again. Her talk of dying scared me.

With Pinky’s help, I loaded the cats into their carrier/kennel in the truck bed after some empathic soothing and a nice treat. We tossed our weekend bags in the back of the crew cab, lashed down Miki’s carrier to the rear seat, and we were off. We raided my mini fridge and the Crystal Hall on the way out and had the built-in electric cooler in the console filled with cold soda, ice tea, sandwiches and perishable pet food.

The smilodons were used to moistened dry lion cub food; they even liked the dry food plain, as well as the occasional piece of raw steak or fish. They were inordinately fond of trout since their escape that one day late in April. Someday, maybe, I’ll write about it. From the havoc they wrought, I think I know where they traveled on their adventure. For now, they benefited from a little formula in their diet. In the wild they would only now be weaning. I had been forced to start weaning them early; fortunately they adapted well. Their mother must have been exceptionally good at caring for them. I promised her then I’d care for them; I intend to keep that promise.

We made good time on the trip into Boston Friday night and were let into the secure parking. I lugged Miki’s carrier, while Pinky walked the kitties. We were led to the studios immediately.

“’Evening, Joanie, and this must be Ms. Conners, I remember you from the video with the cats. Oh, they are darling, may I?” My producer knelt down and let them smell her. I was concerned this trip and the unfamiliar surroundings would scare them, but their native curiosity won out, and they checked her carefully. Miki was happily wrapped around my neck playing fur collar commando again. I couldn’t see her when I looked, but I could feel her weight and heat. In a pinch she could hide her warmth, but not for long. Pinky met with the expert on Pleistocene animals; the woman was practically drooling upon meeting my smilodons. Miki came with me, but promised to keep *tabs* on the smildons and Pinky to ease my mind. Once in the studio, Miki stayed on or in her carrier, but always where she could watch over me.

I did several hours of taping and prep work for the Saturday marathon.

“Joanie, if we push hard tomorrow, we might finish early on Sunday..”

“That would be great. You have rooms for us you said?”

“We have you booked in one of Boston’s best hotels, and we have made provisions for you to keep your animals safe with you. The parking structure is well ventilated and secure. You may leave your smildons in your truck kennel overnight without fear of anyone harming them, or you may take them to your room. They made an exception for you, so long as the animals are never off leash in public, for everyone’s safety.”

"That would be nice. There aren’t any couches in the rooms or leather furniture?”

“No, a pair of queen sized beds, a few stuffed chairs and a table. Why do you ask?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Around ten we quit. We were escorted to the hotel where we went up to our rooms — a suite in fact. We ate in the hotel dining room, then got the animals in from the truck. We transferred the perishable animal food from the truck to the mini fridge in our suite. Miki had kept George and Gracie company, and somehow warded the truck in our absence. The little schemer had squirreled away a supply of suitable pebbles for ward markers somewhere in the truck bed. Oh, I still have those colorful stones she gave me as an offering way back. Something tells me they are special, so they are always in my purse.

We got to our room and all of us soon were asleep.

* * * *

I woke at 6 o’clock the next morning, with George lying across my ankles and Gracie curled up behind my head. Miki was lying to the side of my legs, a paw resting on George.

~~That proves they like each other. As to Pinky laying spooned to my backside …~~

“Um, Pinky, I do like you, and snuggling is nice, but we have two queen beds.”

“I got restless during the night and figured your furry friends would share.”

P.S. My dear readers, about those colorful stones; Miki warded our hotel suite during night, but my purse was a mess come morning.

* * * *
To be continued.
Jennifer Stevens is the creation of Bob Arnold and Alexis Eden is the creation of Julie_O. I wish my characters were half as memorable as theirs.

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction, Chapter 9

Joanie meets one of her idols, who prefers to be called Jen, they talk, have lunch and she gets an invitation to appear on a TV show. The narration duties for NOVA finish up. Joanie gets a shocking surprise from a close friend and a whopping big surprise from her familiar. Oh, did I mention the idol is Jennifer Marie S...

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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Itinerant, you got free again? No more caffeine for you. What is this behind your back, The Idiot’s Guide to Escapology? (But ... but ... it's got PICTURES!!!! *drool*)

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, 2005-2007.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Guest proofing, dialog suggestions and advice from To Be Announced
Special guest appearance by a possibly recognizable character
Test reading by Karen_J, an act of extreme bravery on her part

Chapter 9, Leah 5, M-m-my Jen-eration 2, Ring of Fire, *Mothers* Day — urrp!

Whateley Academy, Dunwich NH. And Boston, MA May 12-May 14, 2007

Noonish, Saturday May 12, 2007

I had been in the sound booth for what seemed hours, or standing by a green screen pointing at things that weren’t there, when the director left us for a few minutes. We — the crew and I -- got a message from her minutes later to go on break for 30 minutes. I went to see Pinky and find out how they were treating her and my kitty cats.

I walked down the halls towards the conference room I’d been told they’d be using. I saw my producer, Pinky -- sans smilodons -- and a woman with her hair in a tasteful, high ponytail. Though I only saw her from the back, I could tell her outfit was casual, but very upscale. The custom tailoring was obvious in the way the clothing hugged her figure. I recognized the quality in her clothes, and these were not your off-the-rack from K-Mart.

“Pinky, I’m on break for the next 25 minutes, want to grab some lunch? Did you get a chance to feed George and Gracie? I don’t want to ignore them, and I *know* Miki is famished. Thanks for the break, Ms. Russell, it was getting to be a grind. Oh, sorry didn’t introduce myself, I’m Joanie and you are …”

The woman turned, and my brain decided to flip-flop, then go AWOL. “Wha?” I stood there dumbstruck, and the expression on my face could not have been flattering. ~~So much for Ms. Cool-under-fire.~~ At least part of my brain was still functioning, sort of.

“That’s not the typical greeting I get, but it will do. I’m Jennifer Stevens, please call me Jen. I’ve wanted to meet you for some time, Ms. Brown; I’m a fan.”

“A fan of ME? I … I, ah … Well, I admit I’ve had some success singing, and I am in the public eye. Ghod knows why, it’s all dumb luck and being in the right place at the right time, or is that the wrong place and wrong time? You are a legitimate celebrity and deserve your fame. I keep waiting for my fame to crash and burn.” ~~You meet a genuine superstar, and you gibber like an idiot. *Great* first impression, Joanie … Ghod, now I think I need to go bathroom!~~

“Excuse me I have to ... Excuse me, I’ve got to go.” I ran to the women’s room, making it in time, just.

I returned to a snickering Pinky, a smiling producer, and Jen, who had a knowing look on her face. “Okay, what are you up to Pinky? Sorry, this is Miss Pamela Conners, my good friend from school, but everyone calls her Pinky.”

“We’ve been introduced, Joanie, but thanks. Jen was asking me all sorts of questions about myself and what I like and don’t like. And she knows about me, Joanie, I told her about my monthly shape shifting, and it didn’t faze her a bit that I’m in my *dual* form.” Pinky grinned happily.

“Having gone from a huge, arthritic man in his forties to *this*,” Jen swept a hand along herself like a model on 'The Price is Right' introducing a showcase, “little surprises me anymore. I just finished complementing Pinky on her choice of dress shortly before you met us. Looking at her I see a handsome, somewhat tomboyish young woman. Her voice is deep for a woman, but the way she speaks reminds me of Kathleen Turner, Fay Dunaway or even Lauren Bacall. All have deep voices, all sometimes dressed androgynously, but you would never confuse them with men. That Pinky is currently both sexes came as a complete surprise. Despite the difficulties this must present her, she strikes me as a well adjusted young woman. In my brief conversation with her, she has been witty and intelligent beyond her years. I see why you two are friends,“ Jen explained.

“I thank you for that, Jen. Pinky has had a hard time of it since her mutation and not all are accepting of her. It's taken time for her to become comfortable with her situation, and I’m so glad you see what a fine person she is. If you think she’s a looker now, just wait until you see her in her all female form. Pinky is fast becoming a heartbreaker.”

”You’re embarrassing me, Joanie, but thanks, and thank you too, Jen. Joanie, I was telling Jen how you don’t take yourself seriously. Jen was asking me all about school and stuff.”

“And stuff?” ~~What did you tell her, Pinky?~~

“What you are like; what you like to do; you know.”

“Whatever she told you, you must remember she’s just one of the many minions under my evil mutant influence.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Miki said, popping into view at my feet.

“What?” Both Jen and my producer exclaimed.

“Sorry, my friend here is very good at sneaking up on people, aren’t you Miki?”

“She spoke!”

“Yeah, Jen, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.

* * * *

"Miki, this is Jen Stevens. Jen, this is Miki. She has adopted me as her next Mistress; she *thinks* I might have the makings of a sorceress. She’s very ambitious for a mongoose.” I broke into a fit of giggles. I hoped Ms. Stevens didn’t believe I was really a sorceress. Hell, I didn’t believe it until Maui.

“Joanie, behave yourself. I thought I was the child here.”~~Smart move, Pinky, now Ms. Stevens will think I’m joking.~~

“Okay, Pinky. I was nervous, but I’m much better now. No laughs? I’m parodying John Astin from Night Court. C’ est la vie!”

“Tish! You spoke French! You know how that excites me!” Jen said as she grabbed me and did a theatrical kiss with me bowed way back.

“You watched the Addams Family on network TV? That’s right you’re nearly as old as me, Jennifer. You were born, what, early January 1958, it’s December 18, 1957 in my case. Ms. Russell can’t be more than 40 — I mean, she’s clearly in her prime -- so that makes me the oldest and obviously most mature person here.” Everyone snickered or smiled.

~~Joanie, I am far older. I am not certain how long I since I was born, but the British were not in the old land then.~~

~~Let’s keep that our secret, Miki.~~

“Joanie, were you *talking* to Miki? I sensed something,” Pinky whispered, and made quote marks around talking as she spoke.

“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Sorry there ladies, secret girl talk; it’s very hush-hush. Shall we get something to eat? I’m starved.”

There was a quiet buzzing sound. “Excuse me, ladies,” Ms Russell interrupted and took out a phone from her PBS tote bag.

“Yes … uh-huh … Are you certain? … Understood.

“Joanie, I have to play troubleshooter for a few hours for another production. Why don’t you and Pinky take a nice long lunch, say two hours? We can resume after that. Oh, Jen, your chair is ready for you anytime at loading bay two. Call this number when you are at the dock, and they’ll bring it straight out. Until later,” Ms. Russell said and hurried off.

“Joanie, Pinky, would you like to have lunch with me, my treat? I do have an ulterior motive; I would love to have you as a guest on Around Midnight. I guest host for Wayne on a regular basis.”

“I’ve seen you host the show; you’re very good,” I replied.

“I almost got to see your Mouse World attraction — The Future is Now -- but then I mutated and Mom and Dad canceled our trip,” said Pinky. She tried but could not keep from sniffling. I gave her a clean hanky to dry her eyes.

“You should go someday, Pinky. I’m proud of my association with the project. Let me know when you go, I can let them know you’re coming and to give you the VIP tour. There’s also a touring exhibit based on what was done in Florida. It’s not as impressive, but it uses much of the same technology. I could arrange for a behind the scenes tour there as well.”

“You’d do that for me? You barely know me!”

“I like being able to help people, and maybe this will persuade your elusive friend to come on the show,” Jen said and laughed.

“I *like* you, Jen, you’re my kind of woman. You’re young, beautiful, talented and sneaky,” I replied and broke up.

~~Might be fun to go to a theme park with the gang before we get much, I mean they get much older.~~

I made it this far without joking about that PBS tote bag; I am so proud of myself.

* * * *

Moments later, we were at the small conference room where George and Gracie were being kept.

“Pinky, I never did let you answer. Did they get fed?”

“I fed them less than an hour ago; they should be fine.”

“Want to meet my *cats*, Jen?”

“I love cats. I used to have one. My housekeeper has a great cat; Gillie accompanies her whether we are in my New York, Florida or LA home.”

“I must warn you, they are rather energetic, George and Gracie are still mostly kittens.”

“Energetic is not the word for it. They had me and the police dog trainer run ragged while you were out of town, Joanie.”

“Police dog trainer?”

“They’re being trained as police cats; I’m helping Joanie.”

“What, to sniff for bombs and drugs?”

“That’s part of it, though it’s more for the intimidation factor,” I replied.

“How intimidating can a cat be, and why are you smiling like that, Joanie?”

“Ready, Pinky?” She nodded, and I opened the door.

“Where are they … Oh my! WHAT are they?”

“At least you didn’t faint, Jen, though wait a year or two until they are fully grown. George, Gracie, say hi to Ms. Stevens.”

They came over, sniffed Jen for a while, then started rubbing against her legs.

“My, they are affectionate, but what are they?”

“Take a guess, Jen.”

“From their size, and your hinting, they will get much bigger, I’d guess them to be lion cubs, but the tails are wrong. They look more like bobcats or lynx, but much bigger given they clearly are kittens despite their size.”

“And so?”

“It’s the teeth that are throwing me off. Their necks seem too long for most cats, their backs slope wrong, too, but it’s those teeth … I can see their adult teeth coming in, and they’re going to be huge … like … No, that’s impossible!”

“What’s impossible? I’m having fun watching you struggle with this; you know that,” I said, snickering.

“Okay then, Miss Smarty-pants,’ Jen smiled and laughed. “I think they are smilodons, but that can’t be; they are extinct something like ten-thousand years.”

“Not as extinct as some might believe. These are a brother and sister pair of smilodons I managed to obtain. Let’s say our school is very special and leave it at that.”

“Special? Where do you ladies go to school, Bedrock High? There is a mystery here, but I’ll let you tell me in your own time, Joanie.”

* * * *

Pinky and I made sure the kitties were safely secured in the room, provided with fresh water and a clean litter box. I’d left Miki’s carrier with Pinky this time, so Miki was set as well. She was not happy to be left behind, but behaved herself after some persuasion.

~~Miki, I sense Ms. Stevens is a woman I can trust, but for now let’s not tell her everything, okay?~~ “Miki, stay. You can play with George and Gracie, if you are good. We won’t be gone long. ~~Guard the smildons, and let no one near them until we get back. Okay if Jen pets you, I mean Ms. Stevens?~~

~~I will protect your *children*, Joanie, but I should be with you … The Jen human may pet me.~~

“Jen, care to pet my mongoose? She knows to treat you as a friend.”

“That’s an offer I don’t get every day. Hi, Miki,” she said and stroked the mongoose. “Her fur is surprisingly soft, softer than the raccoon I raised as a child. And you *say* she’s your familiar?” Jen asked playfully, but I got the feeling she wasn’t completely convinced I was joking.

“Miki is a fastidious animal, and the three of them help groom each other. A familiar? Jen, do *I* look like a witch to you?” I grinned and snickered. Pinky slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Pinky, you’re right; Joanie is a loon. I see why you like her.”

"Time for us to go ladies,” I announced.

My three *children* were grooming each other. as we left.

* * * *

“I’ll call and get us a cab. I know this great Italian restaurant; I go there whenever I’m in Boston.”

“Save the cab fare, Jen; I have my crew cab. I know it seems silly, a mere slip of a girl in a huge three-quarter ton 4X4, but I’m building a house, so it comes in useful.”

“I have a Ram 1500 with the big Hemi V8; it looks a lot like the truck in the film Twister. I’d love to see yours, Joanie.”

“It’s a Ford.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect.”

“Joe E. Brown in Some Like it Hot. I love that film. And Daphne — Jack Lemon’s character -- was right, women are like a whole different species. I know that from personal experience now, not that I’m complaining. Follow me, Jen, please?”

* * * *

“This is some truck; from its appearance it isn’t stock. What kind of mileage do you get?”

“Better than you’d think. It’s powered by the latest in reversible fuel-cell technology and has all-wheel drive. It has the police/emergency handling package, bullet and blast resistant passenger compartment, run-flat tires, and a few extras as well. Take it easy on the throttle; she’s fast off the line,” I said, tossing Jen the keys. “Oh, be careful with the switches, or the machine guns and ejector seat might fire,” I added and giggled. “I couldn’t resist. Sometimes I swear this truck is straight out of a Bond film. My name is Bond, Joan Bond. No applause? My Sean Connery isn’t the best.”

“Connery? I thought you were doing Walter Brennan.”

“Now that is plain cruel, Jen. I’m impressed.”

“How fast is it?”

“I’ve never taken it to its maximum speed, but it would beat any vintage Corvette Stingray … easily.”

We got in, and after adjusting everything to her body — I am tall for a woman, not that she’s short by any measure — we drove to the restaurant. She drove carefully out of the parking structure and onto the street. The street was completely clear, Jen touched the *gas* pedal and …

“Yes!” Jen shouted. “I have got to get me one of these.”

Yup, she floored it. And you all thought I was going to make some lame reference to the film Independence Day -- shame on you. I think we went from zero-to sixty to zero in ten seconds; a red light spoiled Jen’s fun. Bits of me took longer to come to rest.

“My *baby* meets your approval, Jen? Can I have my stomach back, please?”

“But you drive like tha …”

“Pinky, it’s not nice to tattle.”

I think we turned a few heads in nearby vehicles, laughing as we did.

* * * *

“Why the rocket sled, Joanie? You said you’re building a home, but why such a fast truck?”

“I admit I like that it has decent power.”

“Saying this has decent power is a gross understatement, Joanie, and I drive a Dodge Viper.”

“I am part-time security at the Academy so it needs to be fast, and to be honest, I have this nagging fear about being kidnapped.”

“Back last Halloween, in Madison; I saw it on the news. They say in show biz there is no such thing as bad publicity. Your *rescue* from the kidnappers was hot news for a while. I suspect your brief moment of nakedness contributed to that as well. Personally I don’t think I’d care to launch a recording career that way. It must have been terrifying, Joanie. How you handled the press afterwards was pure genius.”

“I had nightmares for a while; the kidnappers did some things to me I prefer not to talk about.” Jen cringed involuntarily; I continued, “The whole press incident was a combination of outrage at what the kidnappers did to the crowd and I and at those damned cameras. I was so angry I didn’t have the time to be frightened. The whole incident did ultimately lead to my going to the Academy, so good came out of it.”

* * * *

“Why are you here in Boston, Jen? Not to see me, I’ll wager?”

“I was in town to meet with Faith Bowie, the writer/producer of Erin Flynn. It’s the cable TV detective show Alexis Eden stars in. Faith lives in Connecticut much of the year, but comes to Boston when they film the show. I’ve done a cameo and directed an episode. Have you seen the show?”

“No, but then this last year has been a busy one. I’ve seen almost no TV since my mutation. I did see that adventure film Alexis did … Minotaur? We have film nights in our huge cafeteria at school; the boys particularly insisted we show it. I don’t blame them; she is a lovely young woman. For an action film with corny dialog, she was convincing in her role. The woman has screen presence, whatever that means."

“What was that back at the studios about a chair, Jen?”

“As to the chair, Joanie, I saw Norm Abram on the New Yankee Workshop build this gorgeous upholstered cigar chair. I don’t smoke, but that leather covered chair looked so comfortable I just had to have one. I contacted the show, and eventually Norm, about buying one from him, but they were long since auctioned off to raise funds for the station. I met with Norm, turned on the charm, and I got him to make another one for me. I’m a weak woman, so sue me.”

Pinky and I snickered, loudly.

“What’s going on here? Don’t tell me you’ve met him?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Smart move, Pinky.”

“Another mystery, ladies?” She parked, and we walked up to a familiar building for me.

“Here we are, Nicola’s; you’ll love it,” Jen announced. We walked in and waited to be seated. It was the noon rush, and the manger was working as the greeter/headwaiter, the maitré, matre … whatever; I can’t spell it.

“Good afternoon, ladies. My dear Jen, what a pleasure.”

“Hi, Anthony, how’s business?” I said, causing Jen to double take.

“Ms Brown, I mean Joanie, this is a rare treat to have Jen and you here at the same time. Who’s the charming young lady with you, and where is your delightful Hawaiian friend, Leah?”

“You’ve met Anthony, Joanie?” Jen asked.

“We met earlier this week, didn’t we? I’m sorry, but Leah,” I pointed to our photo on the wall, “is at our school today.” Jen looked at the photo and laughed. “This is Pamela, or Pinky, another friend from school.”

“Charmed, Ms. Pamela,” he said and kissed the back of her hand. Pinky gasped then blushed. We were led to a table, and a waitress took our orders.

* * * *
“I was here a few days ago on the way back from Hawaii. Leah said their seafood sampler was good. I think she charmed the pants of Anthony.”

“And I thought I was treating you to something new.”

“It’s new to Pinky, and thanks. This is a sweet gesture.”

We engaged in some quiet small talk; Pinky and I described a typical day at *The Academy. * Jen described what her life was like as an actress, producer and all around Hollywood insider.

“I would love to have you on Around Midnight. To be honest, you kicked our butts when you were on that other late night show last December. The overnights — the audience share -- from the LIVE Hawaii special were something out of the days before cable and satellite TV. What do you say; want to come on the show?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in performing, but I don’t see where I could find the time. I don’t wish to, and I can’t afford to, cut anymore class time; I owe it to my students and myself to be there. I’ve missed too much this session as it is. I feel like I’ve let them down, Jen.”

“How about in June? That should be after the spring term is over, but before any summer school unless the *Academy* has a strange schedule. And why *The Academy*? That can’t be its real name.”

“Sorry about that, Jen, but until I know you better, it’s safer to be vague about the school’s name. I’m not the only mutant who has taken refuge there. Several of my friends are there for their personal safety as well as the special facilities the school has for mutants. Pinky is at the school because of the intercession of her aunt, a senior administrator, and remains there because of a dangerous situation at home. I must protect them, thus the subterfuge.

“As to your first question, our class year is pretty much like the average in the US. Finding the time to come on Around Midnight will be difficult; I have so much going on this summer. I promised to spend the first half of June with my friends in Iowa. I … apparently I impressed the Johnsons; they appointed me their … let’s say they did me a great honor and leave it at that. I take their trust seriously, and Babs — the Governor’s wife -- has twins on the way so I want to help out. Plus her two kids are such fun to be with. I’m very much a child myself again, and I look forward to our time together.”

“The Governor of Iowa’s family? You saved their daughter’s life, and didn’t you go to a dance with their son?”

“Mel is a bright and funny young woman, Jen; she always makes me smile. Her brother Eric is a charming young man. He’s well mannered, studious, athletic, clever, tall and good looking with the warmest smile. His eyes … What was I saying?” I paused and Pinky giggled, though she tried not to. “To be honest, he is doing his damnedest to impress me. I think Eric has a crush on me. Plus I never went to dances when I was that age, so I figured why not?” I smiled wistfully.

“Pinky, I heard you suppressing a laugh. What gives?” asked Jen.

“I ... I met Eric this Easter; he’s … he’s hot!”

“Pinky, that’s not ladylike. And yes, I think he’s good looking too, but I saw him first!”

“Aww, no fair.”

“Finders-keepers.”

“You’re a meanie.”

“Do you two often act like this, Joanie?”

“Like what, Jen?”

“Like two silly schoolgirls.”

“Pinky, that sounds like a straight-line to me. On the count of three, one, two, three ... But we are school girls,” we said in near perfect sync, but then Pinky is an empath.

Jen broke into giggles, ”H-h-how’d you do that?”

“I was going to say we opened our mouths and spoke -- ba-doom-ticsh! -- but I have to be serious … eventually. I love to hear Pinky and my other friends laugh, it’s one of my greatest joys at school. ~~Ducked that one.~~

“I take it the first two weeks of June are out. What about appearing on the show in the latter half of June?”

“I’ll be out of the US the last two weeks of June, and the summer session at school starts in early July, Jen. July and early August are difficult because I’m teaching and Babs's delivery date ...”

“Wait a minute, you said ‘out of the US’?” Jen leaned in close and whispered. “Could it be Wales, England?”

“Ehhhhhh, could’st be, Doc.” I said as a certain wascally wabbit.

“I remember the photos with you and David Tenant. You’re going on Doctor Who? I’m jealous; I love sci-fi,” Jen asked me softly so no one overheard.

“It’s just a cameo.”

“Two weeks for a cameo?”

“It’s a long cameo, three episodes as his companion; it’s no big deal.” Jen’s eyes went wide for a moment. “I have no illusions of being an actress. This is for fun, and I get a free trip out of it,” I whispered back.

* * * *

Our food came and we ate — what else would you do with food? Partway into a to-die-for pizza — yes, I ordered pizza in an Italian restaurant, is that so strange? — my cell phone went off.

“Forgive me, but this is my private phone so it’s important.”

I tried not to disturb the other patrons — using a cell in a restaurant or theater is plain rude -- so I talked as softly as I dared. Anthony had given us a table that afforded more privacy than most, which helped. The only people I would disturb were at our own table, if I was careful.

“Joanie here … Yes? … Eric, WHAT!” I forced myself to be calm before replying. “… How did it happen? … Thank Ghod she’s okay, and the babies? … Should I come and see her? I can be there in a few hours … If you think so, but I feel bad thinking of her in the hospital alone … Bob’s staying with her? … Sounds like something your dad would do. You tell your mom I’m praying for her and tell Mel hi. We’ll talk Friday like … Yes? … I can’t, I’m in public … Where did you learn about THAT! … I have to go now, and shame on you.” ~~Eric, you devil. Even if we were married, that is illegal in several states, Georgia for sure. I hope nobody notices how aroused you got me. I’ll get you for this, Eric.~~

“That was one of your *friends* in Iowa, Joanie?” Jen smiled in a predatory way.

“Stop grinning like that; you’re scaring me, Jen. It was Eric. Babs, his mom, was in a car accident, and she’s in the hospital as a precaution. She has some bruises from her seatbelt, and a few cuts from flying debris, but nothing serious. She’s in her third trimester, and with twins they are being careful.”

“What happened?”

“A freak accident, Jen; these things are common in the fall rut, particularly at twilight, but in the late morning this time of year? A deer ran out onto the road, and in trying to miss it a driver clipped Bab’s vehicle, forcing it into the ditch. They want to make sure the jarring didn’t harm the babies. Bob, the Governor, is staying with her. Eric said his dad felt guilty, as she was on the way back from a campaign brunch fund raiser. I know Babs pretty well; we talk like sisters. She’s a US Senator’s daughter; she understands the need to fund raise for the party. I doubt if she’s angry with him, not that she won’t get a few *concessions* out of Bob,” I said laughing with relief.

“I’m glad she’s alright. Ms. Johnson, Babs, treated me like family when we were in Iowa, Joanie. She made me feel welcome,“ Pinky said.

“We have a lot of wildlife in my part of New York. Deer/vehicle collisions are quite common. Joanie, I heard how you reacted to his voice. You clearly were concerned for Babs and her family. Do you have feelings for the young man?”

“I would be lying, if I said I didn’t find him attractive. I’m physically seventeen; I find myself looking at men, and my interest is not platonic. As Pinky said, he’s *hot* for a young man his age. If I am not involved with someone else by the time he’s eighteen, I would have no qualms dating him, if he’s interested. In the meantime we are good friends. The whole family treats me like I’m part of them. How could I not find him … fascinating?”

“I’ll accept that for now. You are comfortable with being a woman and all it implies? You see men as attractive, and you are comfortable with this?”

“Delightfully so once I got used to the idea, but what about you? I hear about you and, um … Adam Tilton? That’s his name, right? I’ve seen him in a few things, he’s a fine looking man and talented. His voice work for cartoons is brilliant and reminds me of a Billy West or even the late Mel Blanc, if you remember the classics. So when are you going to get hitched? Sorry, that was rude; you don’t need to answer, Jen.”

“Who is interviewing who?” Jen asked back.

“This is an interview? I though it was a lunch, Jen. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Allowing that the press sensationalizes Hollywood romances, you have been with him a long time with little evidence of either seeing anyone else, not that *I* follow the gossip pages. But then I’m a blonde so what do I know?” I said and giggled.

“It’s complicated,” Jen said, her tone flat, almost sad.

“What’s complicated, Jen? ~~Believe me I know complicated.~~ Don’t tell me you fear you’ll be another failed *Hollywood romance*? I know it sounds cliché, but if you never try you’ve already failed.” I paused to think, then I continued.

“I have multiple reasons, all highly logical, why I shouldn’t get close to someone, let alone have children.” I whispered. “Maybe someday I can tell you why…” I continued, speaking in my normal voice. “Despite that, I dream of the day I can hold my own offspring as it nurses at my breast. That’s why the house project. And the linen closet I live in is getting cramped with my menagerie, as Pinky can attest.”

“I’d rather not talk about my romantic troubles.”

“I apologize; I was being pushy, Jen. I hope you can resolve your troubles.”

“I prefer to keep my private life separate from my public life, but the Hollywood romance myth is no myth. The business is hard on relationships. I have other concerns; as I said, it’s complicated. I’ve been a woman over half a decade, and this new life still surprises me. Sorry I didn’t really answer your question, Joanie.”

“I see I’ve touched on delicate subject, Jen.” ~~Someday I may tell you about my fear of outliving my friends and lovers. Ghods, what an understatement … When my Eric dies I’ll … Buck up, Girl.~~ “If it helps you to understand me, Jen, there is one overriding truth I’ve learned about myself in my short time as a woman -- I refuse to waste this second chance I’ve been given. I talk with Babs, Ms. Johnson, often, and I envy her pregnancy despite its trials and tribulations. I *will* be a mother. I owe my late mom; she would have loved grandchildren,” I explained.

“Now I’ve gone all preachy on you. I didn’t mean to upset you, Jen. Any other suggestions on a show date?”

“How about in late August, Joanie?” Jen suggested. “I’ll be hosting from Syracuse, New York, for a couple weeks while Wayne is on vacation. It’s a working vacation for me, as I can visit family and friends. The Around Midnight dates overlap quite deliberately with the New York State Fair this year. Around Midnight will promote the fair and upstate New York to the nation, and the overflow from the crowds drawn to the fair will ensure the theater will be packed for each show. The network and Hollywood types would call it something like ‘proactive synergy’. Wayne and I call it ‘good business’”

Jen continued. “I’d be happy to take you to the fair, Joanie. It’s lots of good clean fun and entertainment, and there are lots of great foods to try. If you are watching your weight it is definitely a place to avoid. It’s also NOT Tinsel-Town, if that helps.”

“That's tempting; Babs’ due date is in the second week of August, so I should be available by then. I love the Wisconsin State Fair; seeing a different state fair would be fun … Could I bring some of my school friends along? They might like to see how a TV show is done, and they are the right age to enjoy the rides and food at the fair,” I asked.

“I don’t see why not, Joanie. If your group is small, you could all stay at my place outside of Syracuse. I’ve got a huge house and 200 acres of land you could camp on and explore. It’s full of wildflowers and animals. It’s my retreat from the artificialness of the entertainment world.”

“I’ve only 53 acres myself, but then it is in the White Mountains.”

“Ah, then Syracuse is not that much more of a trip for you than Boston,” Jen said then mouthed, “New Hampshire?”

I nodded. I thought Jen looked shocked for a moment, but it passed, to be replaced by a vaguely unnerving smile.

~~Odd, now Jen seems almost too happy, like a cat about to pounce.~~ “I’ll think about it. How soon do you need an answer?”

“For an August show? Here and now would be ideal, but as little as a few days notice is okay. We schedule to allow for mishaps and last minute cancellations,” Jen explained.

Our waitress stopped by to check on us. I almost didn’t notice her at first; she was professional to the point of being invisible. By that I mean we never ran out of ice water, coffee or anything, and the empty plates disappeared as if by magic. ~~This gal deserves a whopping big tip … Nice blouse, I love the embroidery accents. I wonder where she bought it?~~ That last thought still scares me. Am I becoming a clothes horse?

“Anyone for dessert?” she asked.

“Let me order; I think you’ll like it.”

“Okay, Jen, I’ve only been here once so you’re the expert,” I said.

I turned to the waitress. “Ma’am, um, Gina?” I noticed her name tag. “Where did you get that blouse, it’s lovely.” ~~I can’t believe I just said that.~~

The waitress was surprised by my question but recovered. “It’s a standard waitress blouse, straight out of a uniform shop. A local shop does the embroidery, Ms Brown.”

“Please call my Joanie, Gina. That really is a lovely blouse.”

“Thank you … Joanie. Did any of you ladies have a preference for dessert, or are you going with what Ms. Stevens,” I saw Jen shake her head. “I mean, Jen, orders?” I saw Jen nod and smile.

“I’ll go with whatever they have,” Pinky added.

Jen motioned to the waitress and said something I couldn’t quite hear. The waitress nodded and walked away.

“Joanie, any other questions I can answer?

“There is one last thing, Jen, and I guarantee you won’t like it. If we come to terms, I would prefer if my appearance was not well publicized.”

“But why not? Oh, you fear a repeat of last Halloween in Madison.”

“Exactly, and it’s the crowd I am worried for. I’m not *brick* tough, but I have a few tricks up my sleeves and I do heal fast. But innocents …”

“We have the best in security for the shows. The City of Syracuse and New York State take pride in hosting them. They provide a visible and well equipped police presence. The grand old theater we use has been extensively upgraded with help from the network and Wayne’s production company. That includes safety and security systems. Wayne and Around Midnight are security conscious ever since the arson of part of his studio, and I have my own private security people I trust with my life. They saved me from an assassin so I believe in them.”

“That makes me feel better, but I do need to run this by my advisors.”

“Advisors?”

“It’s not like I have an entourage. But I know people I trust, so I’ll run this past a couple of the staff at Wh … what was I saying … the Academy, maybe my dad and sister, oh and the Senator.” ~~There she goes, smiling that *knowing* smile again, Damn, I must be imagining things~~

“Senator Williams? I met him once. A charming man and sharp as can be. He might make a good guest on Around Midnight, since his son-in-law is a dark horse candidate for President.”

“I doubt if Bob would run, not that I don’t admire the Governor. He has a great ass by the way; he was in this skintight jogging suit and … It was embarrassing, but he was utterly charming about it. This new body sometimes has a mind of its own.”

“I know the feeling; it’s called being a woman, Joanie.”

I nodded and continued. ”Bob loves his wife and family too much, and with her carrying twins, I can’t see him running for President. Then there is the matter of that unholy mutant woman they associate with,” I said and snickered, but a part of me was serious and Jen noticed. ~~Am I a detriment to my Iowa friends? I have to be costing Bob and Joe the votes of anti-mutants at least.~~

“I suspect their connection to you will gain them more votes than it loses, Joanie. You saved their daughter; unless you’re a political Jonah, they would stand by you. The voters you would turn off are hard-line religious conservatives and anti-mutant types who would never vote for Bob anyways. His record is too moderate, almost liberal by modern standards. In contrast, moderates and liberals would support him strongly; you wouldn’t have much affect on them. The youth vote would swarm to him because of you -- the guys for sure.”

“Now you’re being silly, Jen.”

“Am I, Miss July?”

“I’ll have you know I’m fully clothed … on the cover. That baring of my flesh earned my school well over two million dollars, and we get a chunk of overseas profits. And we got a sweetheart of a deal on Coke products.”

“That’s something I could never do, Joanie -- appearing naked in public. I applaud your reasons for doing it; your school sounds like a worthy recipient. In my experience, most nakedness in the media is to boost interest in a poor quality product … I can’t do it. I have it written into my contracts. I’m not ashamed of my body, Joanie … I believe nudity without a valid artistic or political purpose is trash and an invasion of my privacy -- what little I have.”

I felt defensive after Jen’s comment on nudity. It was her choice not to appear naked, but it didn’t mean it was wrong for me to have posed.

“I don’t mean to belittle your decision against performing nude, Jen. Yes, yes, I do remember the jokes made when the Library of Congress stopped producing a Braille version of Playboy -- that the blind were the only ones who actually read the articles. They publish photos of naked women, but I can tell you my experience has been entirely positive. The nude photos were shot in a professional manner. There was no pressure to do anything else other than pose attractively for the camera. Several of my friends at MSG back in Wisconsin posed nude as well, and they are good people. If you like, I’ll send you an advance copy so you can see for yourself, Jen. I like to think of my photo shoot as cheesecake or glamour photography taken a little farther. It’s not like the gynecological porn that some magazines do,” I said.

“I meant no insult, Joanie. If I have offended you, I am sorry.”

“No offence taken, Jen, I assure you. Whether to pose or not is a deeply personal decision; no one should decide it for you. I weighed the potential for my own discomfort, and that of any future harassment related to my posing, against the potential benefits. In the July issue, I have an extensive interview, and I speak at length about mutants. Several acclaimed medical experts on mutants also have in depth articles. One is by the physician who saved my life during my burnout. She is a fellow mutant and a valued friend. She treats me like a daughter, and I like to think of her as my mom. She has a brilliant article on mutants in the issue and posed for a photo shoot herself, she felt so strongly about proving mutants are people like everyone else.

“You’ve done well without resorting to nudity -- not that you couldn’t pull it off magnificently, Jen. You have perfect girl-next-door looks and the personality to match. In my case I’d already been seen naked in public, however briefly, during my rescue after the kidnapping. A few months later, at the Academy, a pair of students made money selling racy posters of me and other attractive female staff, totally unauthorized I might point out. A few posters got into circulation outside of the school, and I got this offer to pose. I was going to say no, but a staff member, ah-hum …”

“Why are you looking at me like that, Joanie? I had nothing to do with what my aunt did,” Pinky laughed.

“Pinky’s aunt sent in my acceptance as a joke, and I accepted their generous offer. I figured with my looks and background it was bound to happen eventually. Rather than have the paparazzi hunting me, I turned the tables and controlled how and when I would reveal my, um, charms. It was a golden opportunity to make my pitch that mutants are people and should be treated as such. The crazy thing is I’m not the first mutant to pose, just the first to do so publicly. One of our staff posed years ago under a pseudonym and has actively supported my posing. She shed her clothing to raise funds for the supers group she belonged to at the time; the parallel to my raising money for the school scholarship fund was not lost on her.

“I’m very chatty, aren’t I? I must be more nervous than I thought. Go ahead and finish your pitch, Jen. Feel free to whack me on the back of the head, if I don’t stay quiet.”

Jen laughed. “We don’t pay a lot to guests, but I can offer free transport, food and lodging. The local businesses throw in some generous perks and gifts to our guests in exchange for recognition on the air.”

“I could care less about the money, personally. I make an obscene amount on my music, and I made some very good investments awhile back, so I’m set financially. Anything I can do to help out my school friends is welcome, though. Private schools are expensive; imagine what a private school for mutants is like.”

“Beyond the usual perks for coming on the show, what if we made a contribution of a few thousand dollars to your school’s scholarship fund?”

I exploded with the giggles. “Jen, in December, Jay’s show paid me fifteen thousand per song, no limit. I sang six times. They paid me 50 thousand additional to stay on the whole show, plus 100 thousand because I gave all they paid me to charity. Then there was the 100 thousand to the school scholarship fund that they later doubled, simply because I rode my 1915 Harley on stage.”

“That’s 440 thousand dollars! And you personally got nothing?”

“They were very generous to my charities and the school, so I was happy. I wouldn’t expect that much for an Around Midnight appearance; frankly, Jay went overboard, but then it was my first ever appearance on TV that wasn’t the news. Whatever is feasible will be appreciated, Jen; the scholarship fund is always in need of more. I think technically some of it went to me, which I immediately turned over to charity, all to satisfy union rules, the labor laws and the tax man. I did it for fun and to get the word out that being a mutant isn’t bad. I wanted people to know there is help out there for new mutants or any mutants who need it. I’ve got to think with your origins, Jen, you must get you share of people trying to denounce you as ungodly or an abomination.”

“I’ve had problems, but I let them have their say. The moment they harm me or my friends, or libel and slander me, the gloves come off.”

"I vaguely remember you successfully suing some tabloid. They used old photos out of context to … make up a story, wasn’t it? That was disgusting, and I applaud you for nailing their sorry asses. Sorry, Pinky, you didn’t hear that.”

“Heard what, Ms. Manners?”

* * * *

Our dessert came, and we stopped while our waitress served.

“This is Nicola’s signature dessert. Bite into the best cho…”.

“…colate pie you’ve ever had. Leah and I had some when we were here.”

“Do you make a habit of stealing other people’s thunder?”

I laughed. “I’m sorry but it is a great pie, Jen. I’m not much of a dessert person, but this pie is, well, sinfully good.”

Gina, our waitress, served us each a small slice of the decadent treat. I was admittedly eager to taste it again. Jen was nearly drooling in anticipation.

“Wait, girls, you want cold milk to go with this. Be patient,” Jen said solemnly.

Gina poured us each a glass.

“Now, you can eat,” Jen declared.

I watched each woman carefully. Jen's eyes closed as she slowly ate each forkful. I noticed Pinky’s expression turn to one of utter bliss. As for me, I was totally unaffected, except for a growing and pleasant *tension* in … It’s been claimed for ages that chocolate is an aphrodisiac. I like chocolate, in moderation, but it never did anything for me. But this pie — I was going to have some *great* dreams tonight, I just knew.

We finished and Jen spoke. “Did you like it, ladies?”

“It was very good, Jen. It made me feel so satisfied. Thank you for ordering it.”

“You're welcome, Pinky, and you, Joanie?”

“It’s okay.”

“Just okay, Joanie? You look like bride on her honeymoon.”

~~Wonderful, I just had to wear that stretchy soft cup bra today too. Then again it’s not like the *girls* haven’t been seen by the public before.~~

Pinky noticed and struggled to not laugh at my predicament.

This got me thinking about how I’d been acting the whole time we’d been with Ms. Stevens. I was embarrassed. I’d been so boy-on-first-and-only-date-with-a-pretty-girl chatty but at least I had managed to speak with Jen. ~~I’m calling Jennifer Stevens, Jen? She’s a major force in the entertainment business: acting, singing, producing, directing. I’m Miss Flash-in-the-pan. I don’t deserve to be considered an equal.~~ I was having an attack of nerves, of self doubt to be honest. I still feel that way sometimes. I keep thinking these wonderful gifts will all be taken away from me and given to someone who is worthy. I know this is wrong, that this is what and who I am. I guess I have a ways to go towards being fully confident in who I am.

~~Time to buck up, Joanie.~~

“Jen, I’d like to apologize for coming off as manic as I did. I’m in awe of your accomplishments, and I’m a little intimidated in your presence… Jen, I’ve been a woman less than a year. I didn’t have a hint I had any talent as a singer, or anything else for that matter, until the whole Labor Day fiasco.”

“Fiasco? That was one of the most selfless acts of bravery I’ve ever seen.”

“You misunderstand me, Jen. Until I ran into that highway, I didn’t know I could stop time. I was reacting to a child in trouble and didn’t have clue how to save her. Maybe it was the mommy in me trying to get my attention,” I said and giggled. “By fiasco I mean my becoming visible to the press and discovering I had a commercially viable singing voice. Those few days destroyed any hope I had of retuning to a *normal* life … That fiasco also was the best thing that ever happened to me, but I’m not completely adjusted to all of it’s myriad complications? Does that make any sense?”

“You mean you love your new life, but don’t know how to handle it at times?”

“Bingo!”

“Welcome to my world, Joanie. It’s over five years since I was struck by lightning, and I’m still a novice. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Don’t feel bad, veterans of show business sometimes choke in my presence. I can be intimidating, but I’m just Jen, a girl from the snow belt of New York. I don’t bite, not hard anyway.” Jen smiled, and we all relaxed.

Like many restaurants, Nicola’s had music playing softly on a sound system for ambiance and to muffle the conversations of each table from the others. They had an adult contemporary station on, Neil Diamond, Billy Joel, The Righteous Brothers and other artists of that ilk, or is it soft-rock? A familiar song came on, but the version was different somehow.

“You love 60's and 70’s music, Joanie; that is the Beach Boys, but the recording of Fun-Fun-Fun isn’t one I’m familiar with -- recorded at a concert from the sound of it.”

“They sound pretty good to me; I wonder where the recorded that? It was great hearing them in person, believe me.”

The song ended and went to a commercial. I excused myself to use the ladies room. There was a line in the room, so it took awhile. On leaving, I thought I heard the last notes of Burning Love, but I wasn’t sure, there was a lot of noise from the nearby kitchen. I walked to our table, and many of the diners were staring at me. ~~The price of fame, oh well.~~

I got to our table and noticed Jen smiling at me; so was Pinky.

“What’s wrong? Is there toilet paper hanging off my shoe?”

“You didn’t hear?” Jen asked.

“Hear what?” I sipped my ice water and a new song came in the radio. “All right, George Harrison. This one’s a favorite. I never knew he recorded a concert ... version … Oh Ghod, they didn’t.”

What *they’d* done was release a song we practiced for the Waikiki show, but never used. With live TV, you have to be flexible. People trip and fall and break a leg; it happened to Jackie Gleason years ago. Songs run shorter or longer than expected and so on, so most shows plan on more material than they need as a cushion. This was a cushion we never used. I’d forgotten we’d recorded it.

“That’s 'The Devil’s Radio' by George Harrison. I was mad at the press for they way they covered Leah’s rescue, and I intended to sing this as a protest, but did Pretty Vacant instead, my *tribute* to the MCO. I’d had several less than pleasant experiences with them in the days just prior to the show. We never had time for this one on the broadcast.”

“That was a practice session? That was a practice session I’d love to have. Joanie, you have a beautiful singing voice.”

“Thanks?”

“You have to come on Around Midnight.”

“Can I think on it?”

“Here’s my card with my personal, private number. Call me whether you decided to come on the show or just have a question. I have voice mail on it, so call any time,” Jen said and so sincerely too.

“If you’d added a girly pout you would have had me, but too late now, Jen.”

Anthony came by with a different waitress and that camera. “Ladies, if you will pose with me, the meal is on the house.”

“Free food? I’m in,” I replied. Jen and I arranged ourselves around Anthony, while I hugged Pinky with my free arm. He got his picture, and Jen was off the hook for the meal.

* * * *

We walked out of the restaurant — P.S. I left a generous tip -- and were assailed by photo flashes in broad daylight. The paparazzi had found us. I spoke up; the words came to me in a rush. “This is a public sidewalk, and you are within your rights to photograph us; however, that only applies to Ms. Stevens and me. The young lady with us is not of legal age, is not a *famous* individual and has never done anything remotely akin to *performing* in public. She is currently under the protection of a court order. If you publish any photos of her, I will personally pursue any and every legal remedy at my disposal to make your lives a living hell; got it, boys and girls?” They remained defiant.

“I formally permit you to use any photos taken here of me as long as they are presented in a fair and honest way. Ms Stevens is a different matter. I cannot speak for her, but publish even one grainy photo of this young woman and I will have your balls on a platter.” To emphasize this, I time stopped the small group of photographers and pulled their pants down to their ankles. “Do we have an understanding?

They agreed -- I wonder why — and Jen agreed they could take some photos of the two of us. After that they left us alone and we walked to my truck.

“I would never have done that even if I could, Joanie. That could have backfired. The court order was a touché of genius.”

“Touche’, Jen?”

“It was at the point of a sword, so to speak.”

“Huh?”

“You promised to, quote, ‘have your balls on a platter.’ You will be a great actress someday. You were utterly convincing in your outrage, even though it was a bluff.”

“That wasn’t entirely a bluff, Jen. Pinky is …” I looked around to make sure we were alone. “I am Ms. Pamela Conners' legal guardian. Her mother is anti-mutant; her dad is separated from her mother and doesn’t care. She needed someone, and once I knew her I couldn’t help myself. You talked with her before we met. Would you let anyone harm this young woman, if it was in your power to prevent it?”

Jen shook her head.

“I didn’t tell the press the complete truth. Pinky was with me in Iowa this Easter weekend, and we sang on A Prairie Home Companion. That is radio, though they do a live web cast. Those photos are low resolution, so I doubt she’ll be recognized.”

“Joanie helped catch the men who assaulted me while I was drugged. She turned my life around,” Pinky said and hugged me.

“More secrets? You are not the blonde ditz you like to make people think you are."

“Keep that our secret for now.”

We drove back to the PBS studios, but no one followed. My stunt scared them off -- that and Boston traffic is a nightmare on the best of days.

* * * *

“I hope you accept my offer to appear, Joanie. I think with your talent and enthusiasm you’d make a great guest. You have my card with my private cell number; you can reach me on it almost anytime.”

I dug in my purse. “I should have given you this earlier; this is my card with my e-mail address.” I stopped and wrote on the back with a cheap ballpoint I always carry. “This is my private number to the phone I have on me now. I can’t say for sure if I’ll come on, but a reminder now and again wouldn’t hurt. I’ll think it over, and I do mean it. I’m not blowing you off, Jen.”

“You have any questions at all, call me; we can work it out … Joanie, tell Ms. Carson thanks for the tour she gave me of Whateley, and that I am still considering her offer of a teaching position or at least teaching a semester of theater arts. Bye!” Jen walked off briskly. I swear she was chuckling.

Pinky and I turned to each other. “She knows!?” we gasped.

* * * *

Pinky left to check on our furry friends, and I returned to my narration work. The crew and I were quickly back into the groove. Miki was as quickly back by my side. How she got into the closed recording studios, I have no idea. Maybe she’s Hairy Houdini? No laughs? *Hairy* … it’s a joke … That was my *A* material too. Oh well, I tried.

It was a long day, but productive beyond our expectations. I knew we were doing well, but what I heard around ten that evening shocked me.

“That’s a wrap.”

“That’s it for tonight?”

“No, Joanie, we finished it all. I told you we could do it, and you proved more than equal to the task.”

“We’re done for sure, no fooling? You wouldn’t kid a tired mutant with homicidal tendencies would you?”

“You’re finished, honest. Did you want to go out and eat?” My producer asked smiling.

“I’m hungry, but it’s awfully late. What do you think, Pinky?”

“I’m fine, Joanie. I took a nap with George and Gracie earlier; they make great bed warmers,” she said and giggled. I was happy to see her carefree and acting like a normal teen. Sometimes she was so serious, I worried she was crawling back into the shell she’d erected after her assaults. I was glad to see it was simply normal moodiness; that was something I understood well.

I was in the fertile part of my cycle and was increasingly moody and, um … I was envious of Miki and her assignation back in Waikiki. Logically, it was fair; she had done without for 150 years and was a single, desirable mongoose. I was single, but attached, and I would be able to get all I wanted in a few years. I could have all I wanted and then some now, but I was trying to be faithful. It’s the way I was raised. Miki could only *get some* if I helped her; mongoose are not common in the US. ~~That proves how tired I am. I’m envious of my familiar’s sex life.~~

~~Oh Yes!~~ I thought I *heard* a happy sigh from the cheap seats.

“Dinner sounds wonderful, but what of my furry friends?”

“The smilodons will be safe in your truck bed carrier as will your mongoose inside the cab. The hotel I have in mind has reserved secure parking; in fact it’s the same hotel where you spent the night, so you don’t have far to go after your late supper. The room is reserved for tonight and tomorrow night if you need the rest. I can’t see you driving back this late at night -- it’s just not safe.”

“A good meal and a warm bed would be welcome,” Pinky replied.

“Fine, Ms. Pinky, I’ll give you ladies, say, 30 minutes to get dressed then we’ll go and eat.”

“Get dressed?”

“It is an upscale restaurant; you’ll want to look your best.”

“I anticipated this, so Pinky and I each brought a classy outfit.”

“That’s why you told me to bring something suitable for fancy dress,” Pinky replied, sharp girl, boy, well both at the moment. I’m not fully used to her monthly transformation but I’m getting there...

* * * *

I’d packed a simple but elegant strapless evening dress and some strappy heels. Pinky brought a well tailored but androgynous women’s suit and a pair of medium heeled dress cowboy/cowgirl boots. She was in her dual form, as we’d began to call it; *dual* was both accurate and short. She was outwardly a wiry male, in terms of her visible sexual apparatus and lack of female curves. At the same time she remained a fully functional female, the opening to her sex being temporarily concealed by her temporary maleness. She could have tried to disguise herself and force a look one way or the other, but she wouldn’t have been comfortable faking being one or the other. Pinky, I realized, had an aversion to lying, even if it was convenient. The way she had acted after her sexual assaults disgusted her, and she fought tooth-and-nail against backsliding into *that* personality.

This way was honest, yet flattering. As Jennifer Stevens had noted, Pinky appeared most attractive -- a mysterious, handsome and athletic tomboy. In reality, she was both at the moment. She didn’t appear fake or an obvious cross dresser, so the look worked for her. I was pleased with the outfit and said so.

“That is a good look for you; it’s honest, attractive and practical. The question is, do you like it?”

“To be honest, I wish I was always a girl, but then I still am, aren’t I? I could dress completely like a man while in this form, but that would not be true to who I am now. Equally, my dressing completely like a woman would be dishonest while in this form. These women’s versions of men’s clothing are perfect for me when I’m *dual*. And this form has its perks. I’m stronger, and depending how I dress, I can use either bathroom. Not having to sit down sure saves time,” she replied and smiled, too wide to my way of thinking.

“Are we rubbing it in, again?”

“Joanie, I do not! … A lady does not admit she masturbates,” she whispered and laughed. I burst out in a giggle.

“I didn’t mean *that,* and you know it. By the way, I do and it’s great,” I replied and grinned.

“I was having you on, Joanie, but I am getting to like being both ways. I wish I had control over when, but at least it’s predictable. I have a secret; I’m gonna’ do it someday, I swear. I’m gonna’ have sex as a man someday, but when I’m ready and I find someone special. Since I’m both, why not *be* both, you know?”

I gave her/him both a hug. “That is great. I want you to like yourself, and this is as much a part of you as the lovely woman. I have to say, if I hadn’t found Eric, I’d be tempted to pursue you as a lover and life partner. Whoever wins you will be lucky; just do me a favor and wait until you are eighteen.” Pinky blushed at my comment. She appreciated the compliment. The last year had been hard and her self-image needed some work, but it was getting there.

* * * *

We arrived at one of Boston’s fanciest downtown hotels. The place was elegant, and reasonably modern without being too modern. This was clearly one of *THE* places to be seen in town. I anticipated this and was armed with some of my nicest jewelry. It was nothing fancy, but okay it was very fancy by my standards. I had brought the gold/platinum and emerald necklace and earring set I’d bought in Dunwich last December. They combined with the hot dress I was almost wearing to make a statement. The statement was “In your face, Boston; lock up your men and boys, mothers. Joanie is on the prowl, Roar!”

My producer excused herself, while we were led to a table and a pleasant surprise.

“Joe, Sara, what are you two doing here?”

“Having dinner?”

“Sara! Why are you here?”

“It’s my fault, Joanie. Remember what we were talking about a few weeks back?” Joe asked.

I looked at Sara’s hand and the diamond ring she proudly displayed. It was a classic design and sparked as if on fire. “You said yes, thank Ghod!” I gave Sara a big hug.

“Joanie, I can’t thank you enough for fixing us up. I forgot how much I missed being this close to a man -- and what a man.!” Sara said and rolled her eyes.

“Sara’s a nutcase, but I love her, Joanie.”

“This call for a celebration, maybe some champagne on me, though Pinky is too young. I try to avoid alcohol, but for you two.…”

“I have to abstain, as well, for my baby.”

“That’s underst … BABY!?” Dr. Sara nodded and smiled, Senator Joe’s face beamed with love for his wife to be. A number of the nearer dinners turned to look. “I told you to give her a good … but you didn’t have to get Sara pregnant!”

“I know you’re a busy girl, but I would love for you to be my Maid of Honor. We’re planning on getting married right after you return from Wales. If we wait much longer, I won’t fit in my wedding dress.”

“What about Carrie?”

“She agrees with me. You will be co-Maids of Honor; Carrie insisted when she heard. She knows how you played matchmaker. The rest of the Gang of Four will be bridesmaids, and Gin’s new sister Katie will be the flower girl. I know it sounds a bit overblown, but it will be a modest ceremony, just immediate friends and family -- a few dozen at most.”

“How is Katie?”

“That’s the little girl who used to be a guy? The one who tried to shoot Joanie?”

“Yes, Pinky. Nice outfit by the way.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

“Call me Sara. You're Joanie’s friend so that makes you one of the Gang,” Sara said and gave Pinky a hug. Pinky was so happy she cried.

“Katie is doing well. She’s happy, healthy and smart as a whip. She remembers who she was, but in every meaningful way she’s a normal young girl. She talks of both you ladies often. You really should visit her someday soon. She thinks you two are special.”

“But why?” I asked.

“Because you both treated her nice after he tried to kill you, Joanie, Katie remembers that. You treated her honorably, so the code of honor he lived by makes her fond of you. As a little girl, it’s the highest honor she can bestow.”

“He’d been deceived; I had no reason to hate him, particularly after Gin changed him into her younger clone.”

“I feel about it like Joanie says, except I saw Katie as he changed and again right after. He suffered a lot but did so bravely. Once he, um she knew the truth, she was apologetic almost to the point of wanting to kill herself. He, I mean she, has a strong personal code of honor. I hated what he tried to do, but I couldn’t hate her. Does that make sense?”

Sara’s smile, and the hug she gave Pinky, told me she was pleased by what she heard; so was I.

The rest of the evening was a blur, but a happy one. My producer mysteriously reappeared.

”I’m feeling ill. I think I should go home. I’m sorry.”

Yes, I think it was a set up too, readers. We went dancing in the hotel’s ballroom. I enjoyed myself immensely. Pinky looked like an angel in Joe’s arms. Sara and Joe looked complete in each other’s arms; the image of her and Joe is burned in my mind as The Couple. Pinky and I retired to our hotel room exhausted and grinning our ears off.

* * * *

May 13, 2007, Sunday

The ride back to Whateley was uneventful. We’d rested well that night, and the weekend traffic out of Boston was light. My menagerie was happy to be home. I thought Miki seemed a bit off somehow, but I couldn’t pin down a reason. I commended her on keeping George and Gracie calm during their potentially stressful trip to Boston. ~~I like them too, Joanie. They treat me like family.~~The rest of Sunday we took it easy, did laundry and the like.

* * * *

May 14, 2007, Mother’s Day plus one

“Good morning, Miki! You were so helpful this weekend you deserve a treat. Would you like some tuna?” I was in a good mood, so I spoke to her out loud.

I held out a stoneware bowl with a small can of tuna already opened and placed on it. Miki sniffed it and ran off; she was making retching sounds. I felt dizzy and a bit queasy.

~~What’s wrong, Miki? I sense you are ill.~~ A second wave of nausea hit me, and my breasts ached.

~~I do not understand, Joanie, but the smell of your wonderful tuna treat disgusted me. I have never felt this way. I never get sick, at least not since I bonded with my first mistress.~~

~~It isn’t me, is it? Is something about our strange bond harming you?~~

~~No, though our bond is different from my other mistresses, I have no difficulty accessing your magic. There is no reason to be concerned … Oooh! I feel sick!~~

“Magic or not, *we* are going to medical.” I picked Miki up, cradled her in my arms, and carried her to medical.

* * * *

“Well, Doctor Pollard, what’s wrong with my friend?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? She feels dizzy and nauseous. Miki hasn’t been sick in ages, and you say there is nothing wrong with her. I felt her breasts, because I had an empathic reaction, and they are swollen, flushed and tender. This is breast cancer, isn’t it? We had a cat die from it.”

“Joanie, Miki is in the best of heath. There is no evidence of infection, poison, parasites, cancer or a host of other reasons for her symptoms. There is no evidence of magical attack or enchantment. The swelling and tenderness in her breasts is normal and to be expected. Put simply, Miki is a superbly healthy female mongoose and should have no difficulty in carrying her babies to term. Congratulations.”

“Miki’s pregnant!?”

~~I’m a mother?!~~

-- THUD --

-- Thud --

“I have two female patients who have fainted in examination room three; I need assistance,” Dr. Pollard called into the intercom system.

* * * *

To be continued
Special thanks to Bob Arnold for his advice and the use of Jennifer Marie Stevens and other wonderful *toys* from Zapped

Faith Bowie, Erin Flynn, Alexis Eden but not the State of Connecticut are all the properties of Julie_O

Karen_J, thanks for your advice and for spotting that missed punchline.

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

Miki's *predicament* becomes known to the Sabers. Joanie's BET recording project gets a Weird producer. End of semester looms; Joanie impersonates Experiment 626. A shapeshifing experiment goes Blondly wrong; people start seeing double or is that quadruple? A BAD hair day follows. The Asian Playmate and sister stop by. Joanie subverts the American justice system.

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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Not recovered yet? Time for the horse pistol, I mean the hospital.

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, 2005-2008.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Verb verification by Itinerant, verily
Kwality Kvetching by Karen_J

Chapter 10, *Mothers’* Day 2, You BET Your Life-Dangerous, DON’T PANIC, And Now in Stereo-Revenge of the Blondes, The New New Avengers-Resurrection, Hang um High

Whateley Academy, Dunwich NH, Boston MA, May 14-May 25, 2007

May 14, 2007,

“Doctor Pollard, I had the strangest dream. I dreamed you said Miki was pregnant, and that I strangled you with barbed-wire -- or was it I castrated you with a hand--cranked sausage grinder … slowly.” I grinned predatorily; he looked concerned.

“I, ah, um …” He didn’t seem to know what to say.

~~Mistress Joanie … I am at fault. I have brought shame upon you. … I … There are herbs I can take to stop my …~~

I felt Miki’s shame and sorrow; she was distraught. “Doctor Pollard, may my friend and I have a few minutes alone?”

“You both appear to be recovered. Take it easy for fifteen minutes and you are free to go. I will read up on mongoose prenatal needs, ladies, so I can prescribe a suitable diet. I’ll make sure you have it in a day or two.”

He left, and I turned to her. I placed a hand on her and gently stroked her fur. ~~Miki, it’s your life, your body, your decision. It’s a shock, your being pregnant, but I’d be a hypocrite to say you must abort your fetuses, your babies. You know how much I want to have children. If you don’t want to or can’t handle being a mother, do it -- have an abortion. If you have any doubts it is the right decision for you, know this -- I would love to be a friend to your children. And I will also support you if you chose not to become a mother.~~

~~You don’t mean it. You are angry at me. You think I am a wanton.~~

~~Where did you get that idea from, Miki?~~

~~I see it in your mind and you fainted when told.~~

~~So did you, Miki. It was the shock and surprise. If I thought badly of you *I* should be the one to apologize. If anyone is a slut here, it’s me. I simply think of Eric and I become aroused. I speak to him and I want to become a mother and his lover, that very moment. Oh my … Miki, can you *feel* it?~~

I got a mental giggle, then embarrassment, followed by understanding from Miki. ~~I *feel* it, you are aching for your Eric. Your body is making ready for sex even though he is not here.~~

~~You understand me, Miki? I know I cannot have him until he is of age. I have pledged I will be faithful to him. I am not intoxicated by fermenting fruit, yet my body reacts as if Eric and I were about to have intercourse. I am no more a slut than you, Miki; it is our nature as females to want children. And your being so totally pregnant is like, um, practice for me, for sure.~~ I broke into giggles.

~~Why do you laugh?~~

~~I sounded like a blonde bimbo in my own mind. See, I am excited but I am not angry. This is not a time to be sad, this is a happy accident.

~~I may not have understood what I was doing when I agreed to be your mistress, but I do not regret it. You saved us on Maui, do not doubt it, Miki. If you want to be a mother, I will find a way to keep your children safe from the law. I know of two sorceresses who have no familiar: Gin in Wisconsin and Lonnie here at Whateley. Gin’s new sister is identical to her and may become a sorceress in time. She’s preschool age and could use a friend, teacher and protector. That’s three possible mistresses for your children. We will find a way.~~ I felt a wave of relief and love wash over me.

~~Thank you, Mistress, I am in your debt.~~

~~As I am in yours, dear friend.~~

I had a disturbing thought.

~~Joanie, what is wrong?~~

~~Telling Administration will be a bitch, and the Sabers will be a pain for the next few months.~~

~~I don’t understand.~~

~~You will, once the Sabers start treating you like a delicate and helpless mother-to-be. They will pamper you to the point of inducing nausea.~~

~~Why would your friends wish to make me sick?~~

This was going to take a lot of explanation, I could tell.

* * * *

The rest of my friends were naturally curious, when I called for a formal meeting as part of our late afternoon practice. Miki sat in my lap as I petted her to keep her calm. I was not sure which of us was more anxious.

“Joanie, what’s up? The rumor is you and Miki were both treated by medical today.” Cheryl looked worried.

“We’re fine, better than fine actually. Leah probably has a better idea what I’m about to say than anyone as she was with us at the time. Leah, dear, remember the first night in Waikiki when I let Miki have some *personal time* in that park?”

“You mean when you acted so, um … strange after?”

“That’s putting it mildly; I was acting like a nymphomaniac on aphrodisiacs.”

“You never told us that, Joanie.” My friends were looking at me and were confused big time.

“That was mental feedback from Miki. She had eaten some overripe mango and was pie-eyed drunk. It was partially my fault, as I agreed she needed some time as a woman.”

“You mean she and that male mongoose … that they?”

“Yes, Leah, that was the intention, to let her experience being a sexual creature again. But being drunk -- accidentally I must add -- she let her magic contraception drop and … Miki will be a mother in early July.”

“Pregnant? Miki is pregnant?” several asked in shock.

“How did that happen? “ Tom asked and immediately regretted it as all of the rest of us laughed, snorted or giggled. The gleam in my eyes must have been frightening.

“Well, Tom, the mommy mongoose and the daddy mongoose love each other very much and want to share that love. They kiss and 60 days later the stork brings a baby or babies. Oh, and they fuck like weasels.” I giggled until my eyes watered.

“Joanie, that was not nice to make fun of my Tom that way. Tom, I’m sorry my cousin treated you so poor. I think I’ll …” she whispered something in his ear. He broke out in a shit-eating grin.

“Are you sure, Suzy?”

“If you don’t want to …?”

This exchange was raising red flags like dandelions in an abandoned farm field.

“Do you have to ask? Of course I want it.” What Tom said did not worry me half as much as Suzy licking her lips provocatively. I wasn’t the only one this conversation was upsetting to.

“Tom, I’m telling Mom if you don’t behave yourself, you promised her.” Tina was cross.

“Suzy, tell Tina what you told me.”

Suzy whispered to Tina and Tina broke-up.

“I smell a set-up. Have you two been pulling my leg?” I asked.

“I’d say both of them while making a wish. You’ve been had, Joanie.”

“There’s only one fitting punishment for these children, they have to help me build Miki’s den and nursery. The rest of you are to furnish it, on my tab of course.”

“That is soooo wrong, Joanie!” Leah practically screamed at me. “After all she did for us in Hawaii, it’s only fair I buy or make her something in thanks.”

“If Leah is getting Miki and her babies something, I’m doing it, too. I’ll not look like a cheapskate,” Jenny said firmly.

I was assaulted on all sides with girls angry at the effrontery of my paying for *their* gifts to my precious momma mongoose. ~~I warned you, Miki, and it’s only going to get worse. Prepare to be pampered to within an inch of your life.~~

I think Miki gave a resigned sigh; it’s hard to tell with mongoose.

* * *

That evening’s clean-up at the farm project was not as I expected. For one, the TOH producer was there along with the camera/sound crew and all the main on-air talent -- Roger Cook, Tom Silva, Richard Trethewey, Kevin O’Conner, the TOH producer and…

“Norm, what are you doing here, or the rest of you for that matter? Duh! You’ve here to film.”

“That, and I understand from your NOVA producer you will be out of state and/or overseas most of June.”

“I’m a busy girl. How do we work around it?”

“That’s why we are here, Joanie. Whateley Operations informed us the farm house will be done in a matter of days, except for finishing details and some painting. All those prefab walls and modules speed construction immensely. It will be ready for occupancy no later than the first week in June and that includes the heated garage. Completion of the farmhouse and related jobs will free up resources to finish the big project, your barn conversion. We’re here to see the finalized holographic walk-though of the projects and discuss some secondary issues,” Mr. Abram finished.

“Like?” I asked.

“Out buildings, landscaping, security and so on,” Norm replied.

“I do need a garage or two because of the rental property, and I need a four season animal shed and exercise yard.”

“There is talk of converting part of that modern pole barn into a recording studio; I haven’t a clue why,” Tom Silva said and laughed.

“Are the guys always so silly?” I asked Kevin, the primary host.

“They are usually worse.”

That got him a chorus of boos from the gang.

I’d try and describe the walk-though, but I can’t. The best I can say it was like walking into a real home; we could even walk *upstairs* due to the military derived gravity/force field technology. What was spooky was when they turned off some of the shading and the walls became transparent. That way we could see the mechanicals and other hidden facets of the buildings.

“I’ve seen aircraft simulators before, but this is incredible,” Kevin exclaimed afterwards.

“Well, Joanie, what do you think?” he asked.

“I’m overwhelmed with how close this is to my ideal, and I wasn’t here for most of it. I think I will be very happy with this.”

“When you offered this project to us, you said you were not expecting any donations, which is in part why we accepted your offer on such short notice. We didn’t feel right about us not contributing something, so we called in a few favors.”

“That is so vague a Presidential candidate might say it. What does that mean in plain English?”

“The landscaping, including materials, and the full cost of building that animal enclosure will be picked up by our underwriters,” Kevin said and the producer nodded. This was unexpected. I was so happy, I started hugging and kissing the guys mercilessly.

I regained control and was embarrassed. “I am … I didn’t mean to ... I … Ah fudge!” And I broke into the giggles.

Norm said it best. “You’re welcome, Joanie. Wow!”

* * * *

May 15, 2007

I got a particularly early start on Tuesday. Exams and end of session papers were due by the end of the month so time was precious. After my run and breakfast I prepared to drive to the farm. Pinky was waiting for me along with my menagerie in their travel kennels.

“What gives, Pinky?”

“I was told to bring them, it’s important.”

“Okay, but I don’t want to see them get hurt.”

Several of the Sabers got in my truck with us. We drove the short distance to the farm then parked in a shady spot. I noticed Leah was feeding Miki a hardboiled egg piece-by-piece.

“Spoiling Miki already are we?”

“She deserves it. My, don’t we look lovely today Ms. Miki.” Leah’s words dripped with sugary sweetness.

~~Miki, I warned you this would happen.~~

~~I do not mind, Joanie. Ms Leah means well, and the egg agrees with my stomach.~~

“There you are, Joanie. So these are the animals the shelter is intended for.”

“Good morning, Norm. Yes, these are my furry friends. They will often spend time with me, but I’m sure a proper enclosure will be to their benefit. Did the people at NOVA give you information on their adult size? The cats are but kittens yet. Miki, my mongoose companion, though an adult, is expecting, so she will need several nesting and nursing boxes. Don’t worry; I do have the necessary permits to keep exotic animals. I want the best for my friends, and safety is a must both for them and for guests to my farm that might inadvertently cause the animals to defend themselves. The enclosure and shelter will need to be hazard free and escape proof. It also will need smoke detection and fire suppression systems, security alarms and the like.”

“I visited a large eastern zoo and got advice on designing an animal enclosure. Adequate space for exercise, comfortable shelter, food, water and security -- both theirs and your guests -- are all a part of the redesign of the horse shed. I also have a list of safe materials and of materials to avoid in building the facility. Nice kitties, what big teeth you have.”

The smilodons decided Norm was okay by them and were rubbing against his legs, sniffing his work boots and such.

“Give it a few months,” I said softly.

We reviewed a set of blueprints and a model of the proposed facility. Pinky took my animals out to explore the farm. The plans were everything I could ask for and then some. He’d designed in a weather controlled HVAC system, auto-refilling and flushing water dishes, timer-controlled food dispensing bins and other comforts for my animal friends. My friends would be well cared for when it was completed, though I intended they be frequent houseguests as well. Similar features would be built into my home; I made a mental note to make sure of that.

Pinky returned sometime later, sweaty and flushed. The smildons looked very satisfied with themselves.

“What happen, Pinky?”

“Squirrels, lots and lots of squirrels, I barely kept them under control. If these two had had their way, there would be a lot less squirrels left. Miki got in on the game too.”

“What?”

~~They wished to bring food back to *new mommy*. Their minds are difficult to read, but they think of you, Joanie, as new mommy. I wished to help them. I have eaten tree mice, squirrels, before. You provide generous food; it is proper we provide as well.~~

~~That is your choice but as long as the animals are harmless, I prefer my farm be a sanctuary. Thank you, George and Gracie, but you need not hunt food for me. Miki, hunt for your own needs if you wish or as your duty to the Sisterhood requires, but I am content with obtaining my own.~~

And I thought cats bringing presents of mice and birds was bad.

* * * *

Many classes were meeting only briefly in recent days, to give the students time to finish their end of session papers and presentations. My classes were no different. This allowed the entire gang to meet for the early lunch, something that rarely happened.

“How is everyone coming?”

The consensus was that most were in good shape for their class assignments, but a couple needed help, Leah, because she was a late start, could have been exempted, but she wanted to do a paper anyway. Then she is a brave girl. I had to finish my research -- all those *interruptions* -- and most thought a bit of extra credit wouldn’t hurt.

“Put together a list of what you need, and we’ll do a mass data search in the library. With all of us looking, we should find everything in no time flat.” They agreed. “Off to the Bat Poles ... the library!”

“Joanie!”

* * * *

We broke into groups. Tom and Tina -- you didn’t think I’d put Tom and Suzy together? -- would look though the electronic catalog for on-line stuff. Cinda and Lonnie would check the Web. Cheryl and Leah would consult the electronic card catalog for books, newspapers and magazines. Jenny and Suzy would dig though the references to the technical papers on file from staff and former staff. And I, the old fuddy-duddy, would use the paper card catalog to look for sources not on-line and even, gasp, microfilm. Pinky would be our swing woman, helping out whoever got stuck.

After an hour’s hard work we had all the leads we needed; we just had to retrieve it. Half the group reviewed the electronic stuff, printing out the most useful articles, a couple organized materials by student, and the rest of us dove into the stacks. “Arr, we be lookn’ for treasure, arr!”

“Joanie, can’t you be serious, and quiet? The librarian is looking at us.”

“Sorry, this is always the fun part for me; it’s a real hunt. The studying is the serious bit. Well I’m off, 'Up, up and …'”

“That one’s under copyright, girl, and you’re not wearing a cape.”

“Darn.” Pinky had to be the spoilsport.

* * * *

One hour later

“Where’s Joanie? I haven’t seen her since I left the media center,” asked Suzy.

“I saw her up in periodicals, but that was thirty minutes ago,” Jenny replied.

“Ohmygod! Look over there,” Tom cried, and they turned my way.

“Hi! SorryItooksolong.,” I said as I hustled down the middle of the reading room pushing a stainless steel library cart with one hand while pulling another, both loaded to bursting. “Wouldhavegotyoumorebuttheywouldn’tletme haveanothercart.” I was pumped, excited and a bit manic, to be honest.

“Experiment 626 is obeying her destructive programming. There is no stopping her,” Leah said in mad scientist accent, maybe mock Russian?

“Experiment 626?” Suzy asked.

“The alien monster from 'Lilo and Stitch,' Lonnie, the Disney animated film,” Leah explained.

“I am not an alien monster,” I argued and pouted firmly. I resisted the urge to smash a model San Francisco. I’ve seen the film; Leah insisted on it.

“Two carts of material and the semester ends next week? You *are* a monster gone amok,” Leah replied. We were giggling like idiots when we left the library. We did not leave entirely voluntarily, I must add. They did let us check out what we wanted so long as “…you … you … go away, please?”

* * * *

That evening I got a message from my record producer, and he put me on a three way call after I confirmed I was alone. I went to my dorm room; I figured my kitty cats and Miki were trustworthy.

“Joanie, I found a producer, composer, performer who is eager to help you pull off a fast one on the industry. I’ll let him speak.”

“Joanie, I may call you that?”

“Sure Mr…?” He sounded familiar and not what I’d expected.

“My name is not important, though you can call me Al.”

“Brother, can you spare a dime?” I sang back and he laughed.

“You’re a nut. We’ll get along fine. Your producer tried helping me out when I had a fight with my record label. It’s a sad fact, but disputes between artist and labels happen all the time, and it’s usually the artist who gets screwed. I went so far as to threaten to record under a different name in protest until we came to terms. After you-know-who pulled that stunt, my threat to do the same was taken seriously. I understand BET invited you under the assumption you were *ethnic* shall we say.”

“Yeah, it happens now and again -- brainless database programs with data entered by even dumber people. I swear database errors follow you for life. One major list had my dad’s house as an apartment, in a city block that consists of only single family and duplex and no apartment buildings. You sound familiar; I keep picturing you in a dark conservative suit while fighting space aliens for some reason. You’re not Bob Dylan are you? Him and that other guy from that Minneapolis/St Paul club are so alike.”

He laughed. “No, I was not in Men in Black, I’m not from Hibbing, Minnesota, nor do I wear lace cuffs. For the record, I do play the accordion, but then it is the sexiest instrument around, Joanie. I may call you Joanie?”

“I insist.”

“I think this could be fun, and I don’t mind us keeping your name under wraps for a while, mine for that matter. I’d like to offer my services. I could meet you in Boston; they have several excellent studios there. I’ll even bring my own band members with me to maintain the secrecy. I understand we need to do the album in a few days of recording at most. We’ll have to e-mail sound files back and forth so we can practice remotely. We could practice via a conference call if need be.

“I have some songs in mind. I imagine you have ideas as well. We can work out a selection and record this coming weekend or the next. I understand you won’t be available much after June first, but your producer says you are a fast study.”

“Why are you doing this? This is an odd project after all. I need to know.”

“Because I think we could make a great product and to thumb our noses at the powers that be. I always try to have fun with music. This will be an opportunity to be serious, yet still be funny.”

“Funny? Geez, I always thought your songs were deadly serious.” I held it in for a few seconds then giggled like the teenager I am.

“Are you sure you’re not one of those early teen female bubblegum pop sensations, like that Hanna Wyoming or whatever her character’s name is?”

“Look in this July’s Playboy, that will prove I’m no *little* girl.”

“Be serious for a moment, Joanie. In a twisted way, this is the ultimate in song parodies; doing them absolutely straight forward, then letting the press and public jump to all the wrong conclusions. It will shake up their preconceived notions of what-is-what in music, I love it. After all music is universal; it should transcend race and gender.”

"My thoughts exactly. That’s why I asked my producer to find me someone who can produce urban/hip-hop and adult contemporary jazz. You can do that?"

“I am familiar with a wide range of music, You have heard my music?”

“I have some, and my sister is a big fan, Al”

He suggested the Swedish group Roxette’s hits The Look and Dangerous reworked as a funk/rock duet. Apparently I had the right kind and style of voice for those songs. I countered with Roxette’s Listen to Your Heart in an updated rock ballad form, closer to the original than Kelly Clarkson’s country/pop version. He got excited at my suggestion.

“You’re willing to take on Kelly Clarkson? This is going to be fun, Joanie; I like your attitude. With your powerful voice, I say we do all three. Listen to Your Heart will be a monster seller, I swear.”

“What else do you have in mind?”

He mentioned several Beyonce’, Maria Cary and other more recent artists hits, as well as a few I hadn’t though of.

“A reworked version of Respect might be hot; it worked for Aretha. Possibly a few Supremes standards. I know you like oldies.”

“Oldies? Why not go for broke. I like powerful singers and emotional songs, add in 'Stormy Weather,' the full version with vamp of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow,' 'Will You Love Me Tomorrow?' and 'A Love So Beautiful,' by Roy Orbison. I remember a pretty good cover of it on the urban radio stations a couple years back. Something from The Class of 55, 'I’m Coming Home' by Roy Orbison and Waylon Jennings comes to mind. The guitar work in parts of that one makes my want to cry. You might want to rework it as urban or rock, obviously. Oh, just to drive the business crazy, 'Black Leather.' I’ve performed it on TV. If they fail to figure out who I am with that clue.…” I giggled.

He laughed. “You are such a tease, Joanie. I’ll work out the orchestrations. Your producer says you have an unusually wide range but he says he’ll give me your preferred keys.”

“Thanks, my schedule is so frantic.”

“My pleasure, Joanie. I always have loved the sight of beautiful women in my band. You will be the crowning jewel.”

“So that’s how you got so many of them into your bed?” I asked and giggled.

“That and my manly charm,” he said and laughed.

“Right, like any girl would fall for an accordion player.”

“It’s the sexiest instrument there is. I mean, it didn’t get nicknamed squeeze-box for nothing.”

“You are weird.”

“Exactly.”

“Works for me; let my producer know and he’ll set things up.”

~~Well, he’s not what I had in mind, but his taste in music is wider than mine. And he does have similar taste in hair. Come to think of it, an accordion is sexy, all that in and out and squeezing … Oh my! I think we can pull this off. ~~

* * * *

Monday May 21, 2007

I was working security that morning, unusual for me as I usually worked evenings. A few officers were on vacation, so I picked up some extra hours. I was surprised when Chief Delarose radioed me to meet him at Administration.

“Officer Brown reporting per Chief Delarose’s request. Tina, any ideas what’s going on?”

“Nada, sweet-cheeks,” Tina Anderson said then laughed. “Nothing serious I’m sure. He’s in with Ms. Carson, I’ll page her.

“Ms. Carson, Joanie is … Right away.

“Go in, Joanie.”

I walked into her office and met Ms. Carson and the Chief.

“What may I do for you?” I asked not sure why I was summoned.

“Don’t look so worried, this will be fun. We got a call from the Berlin School District. They are desperately short of teachers today. One of the teachers had a celebratory dinner yesterday, as she has recently become engaged to marry. She’s well liked, a great many attended, and half came down with food poisoning -- contaminated salad I understand. That leaves the district some twenty teachers short after all the regular substitutes were called up. The surrounding area public schools are lending out who they can, but they are still short. We are sending several to help out. Christina Anderson will teach automotive shop and you will teach …”

“Not music, no!” Then I giggled.

“As I was about to say, you’ll be teaching gym. I am informed the students in Survival 101 are terrified of you. You’ll be perfect.

“Joanie, I hear your farm projects are coming along well. June first is the completion date for the farmhouse portion so I’ve been informed and early July for your own home.”

“That eager to kick me out of Poe and my luxurious linen closet, are we?”

”No, Joanie, simply pleased that the proof of your long term commitment to Whateley is so well underway. We will miss your living on campus but it’s not like you are going anywhere and I suspect your animals will be much happier. I am certain your friends, student and other, will be frequent guests of yours. I envy your situation; it’s the best of both worlds. Plus how could you raise a family in that closet? Your husband would surely prefer a quiet private retreat with you rather than the communal living of the dorm.”

“I’m not married yet!”

“I *know* you, dear. You and your young man’s souls are wrapped up so tight neither can ever let go. I look forward to the day when I can meet him ... as an adult.”

She gave me a motherly look that showed she approved but that *we* had better cool it until he was of age. It not so much a ‘Thou shalt not …’ as it was a ‘Please be careful.’

“You’ll need to hurry. Go grab your Security workout clothes, and meet Tina back here in 15 minutes." Before I left she handed me an envelope with my destination and duties inside. Something about part of that conversation troubled me but couldn’t figure out what. ~~Maybe she wants to throw me a house warming party?~~

* * * *

I felt bad leaving Miki behind, but I couldn’t see how to bring her along and not have all kinds of grief afterward. Some kids can be cruel to animals, and there are always those parents who freak at anything out of the ordinary.

~~Joanie, I am no invalid.~~

~~It is too dangerous, and it’s only for part of two days. I’ll be fine. You guard my friends for me.~~

~~I will do as you ask. I am not happy, Joanie.~~

I wasn’t happy either but it was for the best, wasn’t it?

* * * *

“Chris, lookin’ sharp, Girl.” And she was. “You do things for that mechanics jumpsuit that are inspirational.”

“Joanie, you would do things to a jumpsuit that border on obscene, but thanks for the compliment. I figured if I was working with you I’d better look my best, and short of a LBD or a cat suit this is a good look for me. It’s a nice day; we could take our cycles, hum? Yet another reason for the jumpsuit.”

“Maybe, but I was thinking taking the, um, GT, unless you don’t like exotic sports cars?”

“The GT? Let’s go!”

I was naughty, and let’s say it was a white-knuckle flight. Yes, I know technically I should say it was a ‘white knuckle ride,’ but the way I drove, it was more like we flew. I don’t normally drive like a maniac; I’m usually a good driver, honest! We got to Berlin in record time. I dropped Chris off at the high school, while I went on to the middle school. It wasn’t a long drive. Like many smaller rural communities, Berlin had a combined school campus with three huge but separate schools on the property -- one each for grade, middle and high. A few hundred yards later, I was in the visitors’ lot by the middle school. I parked, grabbed my kit and walked to the entrance.

* * * *

A woman of around forty spotted me. She wore a well-tailored women’s suit, and, well, John would have thought she was hot for her age. This woman’s face and figure screamed, “I am woman, hear me roar”, but in a dignified way. Let’s not go into what my body usually screams; it’s likely obscene.

“Miss, high school admissions is the next building … Oh, you’re Joan Brown from Whateley, I recognize the school logo on your uniform. We were told you looked young but … has anyone ever told you look like that singer, Joanie…”

“My record producer does all the time.”

“The rumor was true? But why Whateley?”

“I’m a new mutant. Can you think of anywhere better to get training?”

“You have me there. Let me escort you to the women’s locker room so you can change. You are familiar with athletics?”

“I sucked as a man, but I’m pretty good now. If need be, I’ll make them run with me. I’m very good at that.”

* * * *

She took me in through the coach’s entrance, and I changed into my workout uniform. I waited while she introduced me. I could hear them talking as she opened the door to the gym.

“A substitute? They won’t know a thing we’re supposed to do. This will be sweet.” It was a boy’s voice.

I looked at my clipboard. I was about to confront eight graders, all boys. ~~The scum of the Earth, just my luck to get stuck with a bunch of walking hormones pretending to be people. I remember what I was like back when I was one.~~~ This time around I’m a hormone crazed teenager in perpetuity which is like a really long time. The difference is I’m viewing it from the other side of the reproductive equation, the winning side.

“Class, Mr. Long is out sick today so we have a substitute. She’s a part-time teacher at a local private prep school but she is qualified.”

“Probably some middle--aged cow.”

“William, say that again and you’re on detention. Joan is a lovely young woman and even if she wasn’t, your teacher deserves respect.”

“Sorry, Principal Sorenson.”

~~So I’m getting the VIP escort.~~ “You’re not far off, William,” I said as I walked into the gym. “I am 49, but I’ve aged well, don’t you think.” I did a model's turn, and the poor boy’s eyes bulged out. Yes, that was over-the-top, but he asked for it. “Boys, I won’t bite. Neither am I a piece of meat, so stop staring at me like deer in the headlights and pay attention.” ~~And stop staring at my 'headlights,' too! … Where did that thought come from?~~

“M_m_m_ma’am? Are you Joanie, the singer?”

“Regrettably yes. I’m here to see to your physical fitness today not your musical talents. I see from the notes I was given you are doing track and field this week, primarily running events. We are using field number three, so let’s go, and show me some hustle.”

“What?”

“That means run hard as soon as it’s safe to do so.”

I ran out the door; they followed en-mass. I stopped outside to make sure everyone was with me. A couple had tried to weasel out.

“Boys, today does count toward your grade; pay attention or you’ll have to make it up … in summer school.” They kicked their butts into high gear.

So I was exaggerating, but I took this assignment seriously and boys are so easy to manipulate. I know, I used to be one.

* * * *

“If you all behave, and try hard, I’ll try to make this fun, is it a deal?” They nodded or mumbled their okay.

“Tough crowd, huh? This will be real simple. We will run around the track continuously for ten minutes, no goofing off or rough housing, got it? If you all give it your best, then we can have some fun.”

“I suppose you’ll be standing around and watching us?” one of the troublemakers asked.

“No. I’m running too, but I’ll have my eye on you all. I have a very good memory. Everyone to the starting line and pay attention, please. Remember this is for ten minutes; run hard, but not too hard. Pace yourself. Ready, set, go!” I shouted as I pressed the start button on the countdown timer in my watch.

We started and most behaved themselves. I noticed a few lagging, so I slowed up to let them catch me. A couple students were heavyset boys and from their sweating they were trying hard.

“Good effort guys. Not everyone is a star athlete, but you’re trying hard and that’s all I can ask. As for you, Mr. Lazybones, catch me or you will be serving detention.

I sprinted, and he soon fell behind; well, I am an exemplar, and these are middle schoolers -- eighth graders to be precise.

“Come on, this is pitiful. A lousy girl is beating you handily, have you no pride?” I ran backwards to give him a break. Even so, I was almost as fast as all but the best of the boys -- my long legs I guess. I don’t know if it was pride, my gentle taunt or the added incentive of my jiggling … The best of sports bras is only so effective, and let’s face it, mine has two BIG responsibilities. Electric rabbits work at the dog tracks; I simply used a different kind of lure. ~~Was I this easy to manipulate at this age? … Absolutely!~~ He ran harder and gradually caught up. The alarm on my watch went off and the ten minutes were over. I looked around and everyone was there and sweaty.

“You all tried hard, and I will keep to my word. Have you ever watched one of those old war films where they show soldiers marching while they sing or chant in time to their marching? I think the chants are called Jodies.”

“You mean where someone calls out a line and everybody repeats it and that’s a Joanie?”

“Exactly, it’s called a cadence call or a Jodie. But you call it what ever you like as long as you do it right. Some calls are clean, some are downright filthy. Often they have to do with the unit and where it is stationed. I was thinking we could do the same but make up verses about the school and the teachers but nothing mean or dirty. The intent is to march in time to the call, think of it as poetry, think of it as rap without all the gold jewelry and girls in tight shorts shaking their *booties*. I’ll start you off. As long as it rhymes and it’s clean I don’t care. If you’re can’t think of a line shout out ‘I am stuck I pass one two’, got it?”

“Yes, Ms. Joanie,” they all said.

“I’ll start you off. Then you repeat after me. Oh, occasionally I will call out double time*. That means we go twice as fast, a moderate running pace, but I won’t do it often. Fair enough? Let’s begin.

“In class today we learned to call, it hardly seemed like work at all.”

“In class today we learned to call, it hardly seemed like work at all,” they echoed.

“Teacher says her name is Joanie, her hair is in a tail of pony.”

“Teacher says her name is Joanie, her hair is in a tail of pony … Pony? Ewh!”

I heard some groans. “They can’t all be gems. Okay, think you can do better? You, the tall blond guy in the red shoes, you are next.”

It took a while but by the end of class, we had several good calls worked out, and all of them were clean. Really, I mean it. Well, they did try a couple times but the moment I heard lines ending in words like class, best or bit -- you get the idea -- I laid down the law.

“Any lewd references to parts of my body or sexual acts will get you *all* an *F* for today, got it?”

“Yes, Joanie,” they muttered.

Over-all the day went well except for the mixed boy/girl volleyball class. I don’t want to talk about that. I am sooo embarrassed. I swear, I am never buying that brand of sports bra again.

Oh, we both got asked to come back the next day. Chris was a hit in the automotive shop. The high school guys paid close attention -- I’ve seen her in a mechanics jumpsuit, lucky boys -- and the few women in her classes were inspired to see a female mechanic who clearly knew her subject. And Principal Sorenson was a dear, considering she was observing my class when the *wardrobe malfunction* occurred.

“Joanie, *that* happened to me when I was a college cheerleader. It’s the price we pay for being, um, well developed ladies.”

* * * *
Tuesday May 22, 2007

Chris and I returned on the 22nd to help out at the local school again. The day went quickly, and my new sports bra proved up to the task to the disappointment of many, including a number of mostly male teachers taking their break in the folding bleachers instead of the teachers lounge. Perhaps they were painting the lounge or shampooing the carpet? Nah! Soon, or so it seemed, we returned to Whateley. Late that afternoon Suzy came up to my room, as I finished changing into something casual.

“Joanie, may I come in? I need a big favor.”

“Sure, Suzy. What do you want?”

She entered and closed my door. “Joanie, I need help with my powers class project. You know how I’ve been practicing and *storing* a variety of bodies and powers?”

“You once told me the doctors think you can copy a person’s BIT and *overlay it* on yours for a time.”

“Exactly. I have to successfully copy and reproduce six different individuals and/or their powers, preferably both.”

“I think I know where this is heading but I’ll let you finish, Cuz.”

“I can successfully duplicate Cindy and her fire energizer powers, I can do this cool boy brick, I can do a great copy of Jenny and her manifestor power -- the steel lotus blossom throwing daggers?” I nodded. “I have a speedster down pat -- her name is Pat, honest, Joanie -- and I managed to copy Tina’s inverter powers. I can’t do magic, and devisor powers, though useful, aren’t flashy enough for a presentation.”

“I said long ago you could copy me, Suzy.”

She ran up and hugged me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won’t regret it. Let’s do it right away … So I can get it down solid for my class presentation.”

That hesitation should have been a warning sign but I blissfully ignored it.

* * * *

“What do we do, Suzy, or more properly, what can I do to help.” I was being the perfect patsy if Suzy was the least bit unethical but she was *blood* and a good friend after all. I’d saved her life and her mom was a first cousin, Suzy was a safe as they came. Plus any girl that girl-next-door cute and sexy had to be nice.

“We take off everything except our under things, please, Cousin. It’s important”

We stripped down to our bra and panties. I tried not to stare; she was my cousin after all. Still I couldn’t help comparing our figures and a tiny but vocal part of me, my inner bitch for want of a better term, said “’I’m much better looking.’ ~~My cousin is one attractive young woman, maybe she has a little exemplar in her after all. She’s a genuine girl next door type. Oh, I like her butt and legs. Nice body, a little small in the breast department but compared to me, who isn’t.~~

“Explain again why we are naked, cousin? Some details would be welcome this time around.”

“It comes down to how much direct body contact we can get. Completely naked would be better yet but this will do. The more body-to-body contact I have, the easier and quicker I can copy another mutant. It’s only mutants I can copy, by the way.”

“I’m glad you copied Tina, if it had been Tom …”

“I’d be pregnant. I’m on the Pill, Joanie. Tom and I may kiss and hug, but that’s the limit of it. We know we’re too young, but yes, intimate contact would speed things up,” She said and snickered. “We can lay spoon fashion or back-to-back if that worries you. I haven’t tried to copy a warper so I want maximum contact for a good result.”

“Shouldn’t we have supervision?”

“I’ve done this dozens of times now. I’m capable of doing unassisted copies, and this will make for a flashy finish to my presentation in class.”

“Okay, but only if you are certain. And you may spoon to my back if it helps.”

“Don’t worry, I can only copy you, I can’t copy your thoughts or alter you in any way. I’m not a body swapper and you are my cousin, second cousin but you saved my life. That makes us like sisters or even twins in my mind. I wouldn’t subject you to any risks I’m not taking.”

“Risks? What risks?”

“Hold still, Joanie, this takes all of my concentration. In a few minutes we will know; it either works or not at all.”

I held still and tried to remain calm and centered. I considered her a friend first and my cousin -- second cousin -- second. That was before any consideration of her as a budding young woman. This kept me from responding to her charms as a woman. I remain attracted to women and believe I always will be so. I am just as certain I fancy men, one in particular, but Suzy was a friend and a minor, thus verboten in my mind. Being family made her verboten with an exclamation point. I stayed relaxed, until I heard her moaning.

“Oh-oh … something is wrong, Joanie, I feel weak and dizzy. My body is on fire, help me!”

I turned and saw she was convulsing in agony, I could feel her pain but why? I managed to grab my secure cell phone radio and press the panic code. “Timeout to Security, medical emergency my dorm room third floor Poe. Complications of shape-shifting experiment, need transport for two female patients. I am one of them. Hurry! Other female is in severe pain and in and out of unconsciousness. I am experiencing possible empathic reaction. It is difficult to concentrate. I feel wrong. I will stay on the phone as long as I.…“ I passed out.

* * * *

I woke feeling refreshed, happy and -- to be honest -- more than a little aroused. A nurse had finished checking me over.

“Your vitals are normal, for you anyways, Joanie, other than some unusual persistent brainwave patterns often related to emphatic and telepathic communication. How do you feel?”

I got up slowly, the hospital gown felt divine on my body. “I feel great, better than ever. Where’s Suzy?” I was bouncy and high energy and I didn’t think it was odd, but then I often feel like a girl.

“I’ll take you to her; she’s almost recovered.” We walked to the next patient’s room in the infirmary and I saw.… me!

“Like wow, that’s me! I mean that’s exactly me. I’m a babe!”

“You’re a looker too, Joanie. It worked, I did it! I copied your form exactly.” I felt a wave of euphoria wash over me. We both giggled from the excitement.

“Any kewl powers, girl?” Huh, why did I talk like … What was I … ooh, I love Suzy’s hair but then it’s like mine, you know.~~

“No powers stuff, yet, but that takes a while lots of times. Can I get up? I want to compare.”

Suzy got out of bed and we stood back—to-back, face-to-face, and side-by-side. A large mirror on the bathroom door made it easy to check. We were identical twins from the tops of our tall heads to our cute, tight butts. We giggled and smiled identically, and it felt so good. I loved to be near her; she made me so happy, and I made her happy, too.

“Can we get dressed and go now, I’m soo hungry, and we have lots to talk about, don’t we Joanie?”

“Yeah, okay if we go?”

“I guess so, but if you feel odd again...?”

“We’ll be right back, Nursie. Let’s get dressed and have some fun, Cuz.”

“You’re on, Joanie.”

“Quit acting like a couple of airheads, girls. I can tell you’re faking.”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” we said together.

* * * *

There were no clothes there for us, other than our school uniforms that someone had got for us.

“Look, Suzy, only our sucky school uniforms … though if we unbutton the tops and tie the bottoms in a big knot they might be hot. What do you say? Want to show off our sexy tummies?”

I should have realized something was wrong. I can be silly, impetuous and a bit flirty on occasion, but for this long? And I sounded like an airhead, but so did my cousin.

“I feel so perky and full of good stuff, Suzy. So like how come you passed out and all?”

“That hunky Doctor Pollard ...”

“Oh yeah, he’s packing, packing big if you know what I mean, Suzy girl.”

“And what an ass!”

“I totally agree, Suzy.”

“... Doc Stud Muffin said it was because I so completely copied you, but you are bigger and taller, so I needed food and energy to make up the difference. They stuck lots of IVs in me and a feeding tube and then I ate all these yucky power bars. I gained over twenty/thirty pounds, I feel soo fat.” She giggled and I giggled.

“It looks bitchin’ on you; let’s say we put on a few more pounds in the right places?”

“Nada, Joanie. When I got like as big as you I couldn’t gain anymore. Said it’s ‘cuz of your BIT or something like it. It was all so dull and techie yah know?

“Oh, poo! Wanna have some fun? You’re like a blood relation or a relative or whatever, you know. That means were almost sisters. Doh! We’re totally the same now, identical and all that so like we can’t fool around. It’s such a pity ‘cause you are like so my type, one totally bitchin’ babe. Maybe we can have fun with Tom?”

“He’s mine, keep your, our, sexy body off him!”

“I was just foolin’. Wha’d you say we...?” I whispered to Suzy, and we giggled, but I, we, felt wonderful. It was like we were high and would never come down. We weren’t drunk or anything like that, it was more we were so happy, you know? We didn’t have a care in the world except where to get some bitchin’ clothes.

“Our school uniforms are so totally not the look no matter how much we unbuttoned and tied them, Oooh! Your belly button is the sexiest, Joanie Girl.”

”Just like yours. We are so hot we’re on fire or something’. Hey, you think maybe we should get them pieced?”.

“First things first, we need proper clothes and not these yucky prison rags. How about we get matching tattoos, Joanie?”

“Wicked!”

* * * *

We worked our way to my dorm room for some decent clothes though we had fun with the boys on the way.

“It’s so easy to tease boys. I don’t know why I didn’t do it before?”

“Did you see Peeper when we almost flashed our boobies. I think he, you know?”

“You know what, Suzy?”

She whispered to me.

“I think he did, and that is a wicked thing to say. Not every boy can control himself and face it we are scorching hot, Cuz’.”

* * * *

We changed into something little more scandalous. “Cuz, how come you, we wear a bra? These won’t ever sag cuz’, cuz’ we’re regens. I mean, my Ghod, it’s a sin to hide these from the boys.”

“Whatever you say, Suzz-zie. You have the most sexy name, you know girl. Hey, these old T--shirts were tight before they shrunk in the wash and ooh, I forgot I had these jean cutoffs. We’ll be smokn’.

We changed into our tight tops and hot shorts -- no panties. We were so naughty! The two of us got this mondo funny idea, and then I don’t remember much more.

We woke the next morning wrapped in each other arms -- clothed I might add -- and Suzy back to her normal self. My animals were looking at us strangely as we fed them. Miki seemed like she wanted to say something but didn’t. We showered and dressed, and she helped me carry my trash to the dumpsters.

“Joanie, look at all those empty bottles of food coloring and theatrical hair dye in the dumpster. Somebody must have had a wild makeover party, Look, neon pink, fluorescent hunter orange and day-glow lime green? Is that Punk look you told us about making a comeback? See you later. Thanks for letting me copy you. I’ll practice changing under adult supervision, and let you know when any powers surface.”

“Take care.”

We went our separate ways. I started walking down stairs in Poe. ~~I have this nagging feeling something weird happened after she tried to copy me, but I can’t remember for the life of me.~~

“Joanie, did you hear?”

“Hear what, Jenny?”

“Some gang on campus, no one knows who, switched hair dye with the shampoos and conditioners in a couple shower rooms here and in Dickenson. Boy, are those kids pissed too.”

“Huh?” I saw several girls walk by with berets and scarves pulled down low on their heads and bright, almost neon pink hair peeking out from under them. Then a couple guys walked by with baseball caps over lime green hair. “That is weird.”

* * * *

I walked to the Crystal Hall where I saw several Whateley staff members wearing hats to cover blaze orange hair, including Ms. Hartford.

~~Who would be insane enough to pull a stunt like this? It’s pretty funny, in a juvenile way, I have to admit.~~ I grabbed some food and sat down to eat. I noticed a spot of something orange on one of my perfectly manicured nails. I rubbed it of with a paper napkin and …

~~ No! No way … absolutely no freaking way in Hell!~~

* * * *

Wednesday May 23, 2007

I took a run out to my farm later in the morning; the late spring weather was glorious. Construction had temporarily slowed as the end of term approached, and for once I didn’t need to haul anything that day. At the site, I saw the Whateley Security officer who was moonlighting as a guard; he waved and I waved back. Great progress was being made.

The farm house modules were assembled, stockpiled on site and many already fastened in-place. From a foundation with a floor over it and nothing else the transformation in a week’s time was amazing. I looked it over then headed to the more complicated barn conversion.

Two college-age women, of apparently Asian heritage, sat at one of the picnic tables the construction crew had made from some scrap lumber so they could have a nice place to eat their lunches. They saw me and broke out in glorious smiles.

“Joanie, you look great. That running outfit suits you.” May Lee looked as lovely as ever and far happier than the first time we met.

“Thanks, May Lee; don’t tell me this is Anna?” I was stunned by her appearance.

“It’s my sister Anna alright.”

“I told you not to tell me,” I said. I giggled and motioned for Anna to stand and give me a good look at her. “Anna, you must be almost done with your treatments; you look, well, hot and so young.” And she did too. She was wearing not all that much more than I was, and from what I could see those awful tattoos were gone. Her figure appeared restored to her natural body shape; I’d seen some pre-college photos of her before, so I *knew*. ~~Why did they tamper with *that* body? She’s lovely. Scratch that, she’s … Ghod, if I didn’t know about all the physical, mental and sexual abuse those creeps had done to her I think I’d *want* her. Anna is one desirable woman but I would never take advantage of her. What those people did to her was sick. Please forgive me for even fantasizing about her, Eric.~~

“What do you think, Joanie? I’m almost back to who I was. The surgeons did a great job and those thaumatologists were careful and kind. They set me up with a colleague near where I’ll be going to school to give me occasional checkups, just to be safe.”

She was so upbeat and bubbly it was infectious. ”You sound much better, Anna. Your eyebrows, eyes and lips look normal for once, none of that garish permanent makeup. How did they do it?”

“It was exactly as they suggested. They used several small localized spells to *grow* the tattoo pigments out of my skin. The skin over the tattoos was tender for a few days, and I felt the occasional tingle, but there was no pain. It worked better than they thought; it was a lot quicker and there was less residual magic than they expected. My skin peeled like I’d had a moderate sunburn, but only over and near where the tattoos were. In a week most of the tattoos were gone. A couple stubborn areas required a second treatment, but that was it.

“I’ve finished a whole body magical *tune-up*. They think all the damage to my breasts has been reversed so I can nurse properly if I have children. The sensitivity is back too; it’s not like my nipples are half-numb anymore. I can think straight for the first time in ages. The effects of the drugs and other things they did to me have been reversed, and they say any damage done to my mind has been repaired from a physical standpoint.

“I test out as biologically eighteen, so I’m a little younger than when all the trouble happened. I’m a physical virgin again. Mentally I’m not, but most of those *scars* have been faded by the counseling I received and will continue to receive. The people who treated me felt it was only fair I get a few years back after all I’d gone through. They made me feel like family. Thank you for getting them to help me, Joanie.”

“I could help and I did, though all I did was point you to the right people. Your recovery is due to your hard work, Anna.”

“I remember when we first met, I … I tried to seduce you because it was all I could think of to show my thanks. I was so out of it … I nearly seduced May Lee, when I realized I was free of my masters. Please forgive me, not that I don’t think you are a wonderful girl and if we were so inclined … What I mean is ... thanks.”

“You had been drugged, brainwashed and treated like an animal. You have nothing to apologize for. And let’s face it, your sister and I are two hot babes.” We all laughed. “You said earlier you will be going to school, not back at …?”

“No, that place frightens me. Your friends set me up at another great university where I will have counseling for my trauma along with medical and magical monitoring. The magic expert is someone you know, she said I should call her Gin. I talked with her and she says you’re friends.”

“You’re enrolled at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, Anna?”

“And I’m going with her, Mr. Hefner insisted. He felt it would be better for Anna with my support. He helped me get all my credits transferred and Anna’s college grade records expunged so they won’t hurt her,” May Lee added.

“You two will love Madison; it’s cold and snowy in winter, but there’s lots to do indoors and out, and it’s a great school. Don’t party too much, okay? Summer is glorious what with the lakes and parks. Have Gin introduce you to the rest of the Gang of Four -- that’s the nickname for the group of girls I hung out with last year. Tell them I said they should keep an eye on both of you as a favor to me; they’ll understand.

“Anna, what about your former fiancé? Did you get back together?”

“Yes and no. We’re seeing each other, but I have put any marriage on hold. I’m not so sure I want to be a *traditional* Asian wife. The whole experience of being under the complete control of another frightens me. To be fair to both of us, I’m seeing him again on a trial basis. I need to be sure this is who I want to be, and how I want it. I’m not rushing things, though I would like to be a mother at a reasonably young age."

“I have to ask you, why are you out here on my farm?”

“You told us about it, and so did the doctors here before we left for the surgery to get rid of Anna’s implants. It’s a nice piece of land and Security let us see the general site plans. This will be a beautiful when you are done; I hope we can visit someday. And Security told us you were out here. Anna and I wanted to thank you before we left town. We’re about to travel to Wisconsin so we can take some summer classes. Anna needs to catch up, and I left school for awhile because of her troubles so it will do me good as well,” May Lee said happily.

* * * *

I worked on my class papers and other school work most of the morning. With end of session soon approaching, we had the day off for study. I took one of my papers with me to work on as I ate my lunch. I’d settled in, sandwich in one hand, class paper in the other, when I heard Pinky call me.

“Joanie, I have your mail and it looks important.”

I’d given her the authority to pick up my mail, as I was often busy and I trusted her. She took this trust seriously.

“Thank you, Pinky. You know I did this as much for you as for me, allowing you to receive my mail. Your happiness means a lot to me and I know I can trust you. If I can trust you with my most guarded secrets what's a little first class mail?”

Pinky ran up and gave me a hug. “I can sense your sincerity, Joanie, I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t help it. You’re broadcasting your emotions again, Joanie.”

“Thanks for warning me. My empathic and telepathic powers still are beyond my conscious control. That’s it! Oh wow, maybe I have *unconscious* control of them. Like, oh my ghod, I have this so totally cool Blonde power, the power of unconsciousness.” I giggled in a particularly ditzy tone. Pinky just stared at me. I remained undaunted. “What do we have for Joanie? Show me, pretty please with sugar on top!”

“Cut it out, Joanie, you’re embarrassing me.”

“It’s my duty as your friend to be a silly pest. So what do you have for me?” My tone was far more serious this time.

“It’s an official letter from the county seat in Berlin. Looks like they gave it *special* handling too,” she said and snickered. The letter was torn almost in half diagonally, spotted with oil and taped up. A damaged mail label was attached. I assume the post office was afraid the damage they had done was not obvious enough for us *amateurs* to notice.

“Can’t be taxes, Pinky; it’s the wrong time of the year. It looks like a jury duty summons. Let’s see … ‘yada yada yada, please return the enclosed jury questionnaire by May tenth,’ I think. It’s hard to make out. ‘You are to report 8:30 AM Thursday May 24, and Friday May 25, or for the duration of the trial should you be chosen for a jury.’ Crap, that’s tomorrow!”

“Joanie, such language, and in front of an impressionable child!”

“I’d better call in right away, thanks again, Hon.” I hugged her, but the kids in the Crystal Hall thought nothing of it. I had a touchy-feely reputation and there were several groups of students openly kissing and more at some of the tables. It’s spring, and the hormones are flowing. I know the feeling.

* * * *

The official letter included a number to call if you had questions or a problem with serving on the dates assigned to you. I took out my phone and dialed it.

“County Court House, Jury Assembly. How may I help you?”

“I received a jury summons today, but it was damaged in the mail. I’m due to report tomorrow. What do I do?”

“Is your juror number still readable and do you have Internet access?

“Yes to both.”

“Got to our website and do the online survey before four o’clock today, then show up at 8:30 AM tomorrow as requested and you will be okay with the court. Show up in any case. If you need a short delay in your service you must report in person tomorrow. Do bring the letter, we need to see it.”

“I’ll get off work somehow. Ms. Carson is accommodating of my needs. I’m a part-time teacher and student”

“Ah, Whateley Academy, Ms. Carson is well known to the courts here. Be on time, you mustn’t disappoint your boss.”

“That I would never do: I have a morbid fear of spandex. Thanks.”

I do, would you piss off a world-class super like Ms Carson?

* * * *

I wolfed my sandwich -- okay I saber-toothed it, I’m more of a cat person -- and hustled to Administration.

“Is Ms. Carson in?”

“Sure, go in, Joanie,” Tina Anderson said. “What did you do this time, Joanie?”

“Jury duty, and the letter came late.”

“You on a jury? Civilization is doomed!”

* * * *

“Yes, what do you need off for this time?” Ms Carson was making what would seem a wild guess, but with me it was more of a turkey shoot.

“It’s not my fault; read this please.” I handed her the letter.

“You on a jury? Horrors! Sure, we can work around it, Joanie. Odds are you won’t be picked. In my experience lawyers don’t like mutants on juries due to prejudice against us and fear they might be mind readers or worse.”

“That sucks, pardon my French.”

“I know that look; I’ve seen it on you before, that look of mischief brewing. Don’t do anything foolish, Joanie.”

“Who, me, cause trouble? Perish the thought.”

“I’ll put the National Guard on standby.” She laughed. “Please behave yourself.”

* * * *

I told the gang at practice, which was more of a joint study session these last days of the semester. They fired questions at me machinegun style. I couldn’t keep track of who said or asked what.

“Do you get to hang anyone?”

“I hear juries get to stay in hotels.”

“My dad said waiting to be picked was booooring.”

“Do you have to wear some stupid suit, or you will you be dressed sexy?”

“Slow down! No they don’t hang people in New Hampshire, I’m pretty sure of that. No, they use lethal Injection, still yucky-poo.” - editor: see SECTION 630:5 PROCEDURE IN CAPITAL MURDER. -- “The bit about hotels is only if we are sequestered, but that happens rarely, most commonly in high profile trials. I’ve served before and the waiting is boooooring, but I’ll take my schoolwork with me. As to dress, I’ll dress to represent my school, tasteful, professional clothing that shows off my figure. Satisfied?” I finished and stuck my tongue out. It seemed the thing to do.

The Sabers set up a schedule to care for my beasties, Miki presented a different problem.

~~Joanie!~~

~~Miki, no! I can’t see how they would make an exception to have an animal with me …. Wait a minute … Seeing-eye dogs are permitted. There may be a way.~~

~~I’m not a dog.~~

~~No, but the concept may apply. You say you must serve me, and we are joined.~~

~~I made offer and you accepted as is the way with the Sisterhood~~

~~A moment, friend,~~

I dialed again, and got the jury assembly desk.

“I called earlier about receiving my jury summons late.”

“As I explained, if you need a short postponement in your service you must appear in person.”

“I have no problem with that, my employer has already made provisions for my absence. What is the rule on aid animals, seeing-eye dogs and the like?”

“A recognized disability can be accommodated. Are you disabled?”

“Not as such. I am recognized by the United States of America as a Sorceress with a familiar -- a mongoose to be precise. I have all the required papers.”

“That’s a new one on us.”

I heard her call out to a coworker. “Clarisse, I’ve got a live one here, she claims to be a federally registered sorceress with a familiar, and, get this, it’s a mongoose.”

“What’s her name, and where does she work?”

“Your name and place of work, ma’am?” she asked.

“Joan Brown, and I am employed at Whateley Academy.”

“Thank you. “

She spoke to her coworker again. “Joan Brown and Whateley Academy.

“It’s entirely possible. I’ve met at least two prospective jurors from Whateley who were registered sorceresses that I can remember but then I’ve worked here for twenty-five years. Give me a moment to check the Federal Magic Users Registry, Beth … Hang onto your seat, Beth … it’s a match … Beth, speak to me, Beth?”

I got my permission. Tomorrow was going to be a strange day by even the standards of my last year, I knew it.

* * * *

Thursday May 24, 2007

Miki and I left for Berlin extra early after spending a couple hours getting ready. We both were dressed to the nines: me in one of Cecilia Roger’s custom tailored woman’s suits, modest heels and my best jewelry; Miki wore her dress collar with sterling silver ID tag. We used her soft-sided airline travel case, which I had since modified to wear as a back pack -- no need to carry it like a shoulder bag any more. For my study needs, I took my school laptop and my secure cell phone plus a few texts not stored in the computer. I wanted to take my guitar, but it wasn’t practical. We drove off to Berlin, secure in the knowledge that my friends had everything under control. I warned Chief Delarose to keep an eye on my friends, or he would answer to me. The hug and kiss I gave him didn’t hurt matters.

* * * *

Getting through security to enter the courthouse was surprisingly easy, but then I was cooperative and ready when my turn came to be scanned. The security staff was more surprised by the jewelry I placed in the tray than by the now naked mongoose on my shoulder as we walked though the scanner.

“Aren’t you worried someone might steal your jewels or computer?” One asked as I put them back on. I am referring to the jewelry; I don’t wear my laptop though I hear it can be done.

“Nah, they can be replaced, and anyone intending me harm would upset my friend here. She packs quite a wallop.”

“Sharp teeth and claws?”

“That, too,” I said and walked of wondering what the two of us could turn the guard into if we could figure out how we did those transformations back in Maui. ~~I think those MCO officers have me spooked. The guards here were perfectly polite and courteous and I’m thinking of transmuting them? Bad Joanie!~~

* * * *

“Reporting for Jury duty. Here’s my summons. Sorry, but the letter got mangled in the mail.” I handed her the document. She scanned it and gave me a sticky badge and fact sheet. Then she saw my mongoose.

“Beth, it’s her, the you-know-what from *that* academy. She really has a mongoose with her.”

I laughed. “Miki won’t be a problem. She’s toilet trained, and thanks for being understanding. We are partners after all, and I couldn’t leave her behind, pregnant and alone.”

“A mutant sorceress with a pregnant familiar; it must be a Thursday,” a coworker said, shaking her head.

* * * *

They used a pool system similar to what they use back in Milwaukee County. It reduced the number of prospective jurors needed compared to summoning for specific trials. We waited in an auditorium and watched a presentation on how the process worked. A family court judge gave us her perspective on service.

“If you are not called, you have still done a service. Many cases settle just before a jury is formed. The knowledge that the case is about to be tried is a big incentive. How may of you have served on trials before?”

I raised my hand along with roughly one-third of us.

“More than once?”

I raised my hand along with a much smaller number.

“You veterans know the drill. Did any of you serve in other states?”

I was the only one. More and more people looked my way and I knew the wheels in their heads were spinning.

“May I ask where?”

“Milwaukee County in Wisconsin, this is my first time here though. I moved to the state this last December.”

“You’ll find the process similar, and welcome to New Hampshire …?”

“Joan, but most people call me Joanie.”

Several of my fellow pool members gasped.

“Ma’am, you needn’t answer, but are you the Joanie who is a famous singer?” the judge asked.

“I have that among other *hats* that I wear.”

She smiled, “See folks, it’s just like the poster in the lobby of J-Lo reporting for jury duty. It takes all walks of life to fill a jury. I have been summoned myself in the past as well, so I understand the disruption this is to your lives.”

* * * *

We settled into seats in the auditorium to watch a movie or at tables in a separate work area where we had limited wireless connections available while in the pool. Every half-hour or so, they called out a series of names followed by numbers. We were to stand on the matching number in a hallway to be escorted to a courtroom. The courts knew who we were by our numbers. They used a PA system that was even in the bathrooms. I lucked out on the first several calls, so I managed to get some studying done. It was close to noon when my name was called. I packed up fast and moved to my spot in line.

“I’m Frank; I’m a bailiff and will escort you to Courtroom 316, Judge Smith. Please line up again outside the courtroom in the order of your numbers and stay quiet until questioned by the court. If the judge excuses you, report back to the jury assembly area. Any questions?”

“Why is this teenager in a jury pool and carrying an animal to boot?” a man asked. He must have not paid attention to the judge during orientation.

“Ma’am, may I?” The bailiff looked at my special badge, driver’s license and papers they’d given me to explain Miki.

“Sir, the animal is covered under a provision allowing aid animals to accompany their human partner. Her papers are all in order, and she is an adult resident of the state despite her youthful appearance.”

“Thank you for the compliment. Are you single?”

That hushed my fellow juror for a while and got a big smile out of our big and buff bailiff.

* * * *

We piled into several elevators and rode to the third floor where we lined-up in order outside the courtroom. We were directed to seats to wait for the voir dire, or whatever the jury sifting process is called. I’m lousy when it comes to Latin or maybe that’s French? Like I said, I’m not very good at languages. (Editor: Middle French: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voir_dire)

The judge was introduced after the usual “Hear Ye!” and so on. He spoke to us. “This trial involves a defendant charged with hit and run injury to a pedestrian by the use of a motor vehicle while intoxicated. In other words, the State is attempting to prove he drove drunk, hit a person, thereby injuring them severely, and then drove off without offering to aid the victim. The defendant claims to be innocent and says though he admits it was his car, he was not in the car at the time of the accident and someone unknown stole it and committed the crime.

“I anticipate this trial to last from two to five days. Anyone who cannot serve for at least five days please inform the bailiff and you will be excused to return to the jury assembly. Legitimate reasons are scheduled surgery, pre-paid vacations, or the needs of your employer.” Two were excused out of 25.

“Attorneys from the state and the defense will ask you questions. Some may be embarrassing, but answer truthfully, as it is important to the fairness of the trial. If you are excused it is no shame on you, you have served and will be excused to return to the jury assembly room and possible assignment to other trials. Begin.”

The process can be fast or tediously slow. From my limited experience it was average but this was a serious case. The penalties for hit and run are severe. The sides removed several for cause -- one was a retired police detective, another was a schoolmate of the victim. I figured as a Whateley Security and National Guard member, I would be struck.

“Number 20, Joan Brown.” The defense attorney called to me. ”You list your occupation as part-time teacher, security officer, member of the National Guard, professional singer, magazine model, actress and student? Is this correct?”

“Yes.” They said to give concise, to the point answers.

“Could you explain this briefly?”

“No. All these are the result of an incident last summer. It’s complicated.”

“That’s vague, please explain.”

“I underwent a mutant burnout, and it changed me radically. I am learning to deal with theses changes, thus I returned to school after a long absence.”

Some in the courtroom seemed to recognize me and several on the prosecution side fought hard not to laugh at the defense lawyer’s confusion.

“Your age, Ms. Brown, you appear too young to be an adult.”

“I’ll be 50 this December 18th.”

“I remind you are under oath, Ms. Brown. Your age?”

“Forty-nine years, five months and six days.”

“Your honor!”

“If I may clear up council’s confusion, your honor?”

“Proceed madam prosecutor.”

“Ms. Brown is known professionally as Joanie. She is a world famous pop singer and mutant; am I not correct, Joanie?”

“I wouldn’t disagree with that assessment.”

“Joanie, just for my own curiosity,” the judge asked. “I understand everything except the actress and magazine model. Where have you performed, and for which publication have you posed?”

“I’ve done some work with PBS, narrating a three-part documentary and will guest star in a TV series early this summer. As to a magazine model, posed is the operative word, your Honor. I am the cover, I have a lengthy interview and I am the Centerfold in this July‘s Playboy. Telling my Daddy I posed naked was not easy, but he’s cool with it.” I smiled, then giggled. “I’m sorry, I can’t control that; it came with the mutant makeover.”

I noticed some of the men, and the female prosecutor, looking at me and imagining what I looked like naked. The defense lawyer looked very self-satisfied.

“Strike this juror for cause.” He was out of the ‘strike the juror, no reason given’ option.

“Cause?” asked the judge.

“Miss Brown is a distraction to the court. Look at her; half the courtroom is staring at her as I speak.”

And they were too, and he was one of them. I spotted his … I was distracting him badly. I broke out with the giggles. I couldn’t help it, then several other spotted the tent in the defense lawyer’s trousers.

The judge noticed, too, and tried valiantly not to laugh. “Defense move to strike juror for cause is accepted. You are free to go, Ms. Brown, and thank you. Please return to the jury assembly room. I declare a fifteen minute recess for the court to recover its decorum and … do something about that, council.” The judge said pointing at the defense lawyer. “On second thought, make it thirty.”

I walked out of the courtroom, into the corridor and down to the elevator bank. I only snickered occasionally.

* * * *

Assembly released me for lunch until two in the afternoon. That gave me an hour and a quarter until I had to report back. I decided to use the courthouse basement cafeteria to save time. I got in line and selected a few items. I had to pay cash. ~~Miki, a twenty dollar bill please.~~ The carrier was the safest place for my cash. She handed me a bill, her paws are unusually dexterous for a mongoose. I paid and sat down, surprised no one noticed where I got the cash from.

I returned to assembly and checked in. I got called to one more court, but they settled before we even sat down for the voir dire thingy. We were released for the day and told to return at 8:30 next morning. I walked out of the courthouse on the way to my truck and was pounced on by reporters. ~~Must have been a slow news day.~~

“Joanie, is true you were rejected from a jury because you were too good looking?”

“Are you a sorceress?”

“Did you pose naked for Playboy?”

“What does your boyfriend think of that?”

~~Whoa!~~ That worried me. I had to answer, but how?

“I was here to answer a jury duty summons, and that’s all I may say about that as I don’t wish to interfere with any court proceedings. I have posed for Playboy for a generous contribution to the scholarship fund of the institution where I am employed. Whether or not I have a boyfriend is my own business, and do I look like a witch to you?” That shut most of them up, but one was persistent; it was the network owned by that billionaire on the far side of the World. Why I was not surprised?

“Then why the animal you are carrying, and you do spend a lot of time with Governor Johnson’s family and their son Eric, a fourteen year old boy.”

~~Miki, can you do anything?~~

~~I will try.~~

“Miki is an animal I rescued and am caring for. I had her here by special permission of the court. And if I was a sorceress, and she was my familiar as you insinuate, by now you’d be growing a tail or be turning in into a little girl or something worse, right Mister? Do you realize how strange your accusations sound?

“And never insult the Johnson family in my presence. They have been extraordinarily kind to me, since I aided their daughter. Everyone in the family is a pleasure to know. Their son Eric is charming and intelligent, as is his sister, Melissa. They are my friends. Why would I not speak with them when I visit the family?”

I walked away ignoring him I. I kept thinking to my self ~~I wish that jerk would shut up. What an idiot!~~ It was almost like a mantra. I drove back to Whateley undisturbed and resumed my routine

* * * *

Friday May 25, 2007

I slept well, did my usual morning routine, then went to the Crystal Hall for breakfast prior to leaving for Berlin. They had the huge flat-panel TV I donated turned to the news. I nearly did a spit-take when I heard…

“Anchor and reporter Philip K Dick was admitted to the hospital last night for treatment of a suspected stroke. He collapsed shortly after interviewing the singer, Joanie, who was in Berlin for jury duty. His bizarre behavior and total loss of speech faded after several hours but doctors are keeping him for tests. We wish him a quick and complete recovery.”

No, it couldn’t be? Could it? ~~Oh, Miki!~~

To be continued.

Joanie's jury duty ends spectacularly. She makes new friends and enemies, maybe. The spring session ends. Joanie makes plans for summer. A new woman will be joining the staff in July, from Egypt. Carson gives out details. Joanie brushes up on her Steve Martin tunes. She and Suzy ride a train and tease the boys.

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), The Crystal Hall (http://www.crystalhall.org), 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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Not recovered yet? Time for the horse pistol, I mean the hospital. (Running off to a more stable state of mind. Horse! Stable! That's a Joke, Son!)

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, 2005-2008.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Verb verification by Itinerant, verily
Special thanks to Paula Dillon for advice
Jennifer Marie Stevens comes courtesy of Bob Arnold. As to mixing the Zapped and Whateley universes, I have no problems with it. Bob has no problem. This is fan fic and if it still worries you, think of this as this an alternative universe. I mean, it worked for Star Trek TM so...

Chapter 10.5, AKA Chapter 11, *Mothers’* Day 3, Hang um High 2, DON’T PANIC 2, You BET Your Life-She’s Got the Look, The Desert Song, On the Road Again

Whateley Academy, Dunwich NH, Boston MA and points in route to Chicago May 25-June 01, 2007

May 25, 2007, Friday

~~Yes, Joanie?~~

~~Did *WE* have anything to do with that reporter’s mysterious illness?~~

~~He was a threat to you and your friends. You wished for this to happen. He will recover unharmed.~~

~~I didn’t mean it! I mean, I thought it, but I wouldn’t hurt him unless he tried to hurt someone.~~

~~But, Joanie, I am certain you wished it. I heard clearly ‘I wish that jerk would shut up. What an idiot!’ I did as you willed, I had no choice. I could feel the spell forming around you. I could not stop it, I could only alter it. I insured it was temporary. It has worn off, as you would wish. You are a kind human and wish to harm no one~~ I blushed at her compliment.

~~I did this? I used magic on someone?~~

~~I am not sure. It may be us both, together; your will accessing my magic skills. This let you tap your magical shell.~~

~~I need to get some training and quick, even if it’s only to avoid accidentally doing something like this. This is very bad. What if I get angry or scared and wish something terrible to happen. I could have wished him dead or changed into a pile of crap or a real dick hea …~~

My anger at myself dissipated at once, and I started giggling. The image of that reporter with his head shaped like a giant … I can’t say it or I’ll start giggling. I couldn’t stop laughing; I could hardly breathe. It was right out of one of those crude jokes thirteen-year-old guys like to gross each other out with. The ones where an overly aggressive man insults a witchdoctor or a voodoo priestess. Hey, I was in both the Y and the Scouts; I heard a lot of them.

The students around me must have thought I was on something. Here’s Joanie eating quietly by herself, and moments later she is giggling uncontrollably for no apparent reason. I quite literally fell out of my seat. I was lucky didn’t wet myself. I slowly wound down and regained control, or so I thought.

I climbed back in my seat and returned to my breakfast — BIG mistake. I’d selected a classic American style breakfast; it was going to be a long time before lunch at the courthouse. My tray held coffee, OJ, toast, eggs and …

“Sausages!”

I gave my tray to a hungry-looking student with my compliments and bought a breakfast empanada and a coffee to go.

~~I am not cut out for celibacy. Eric, grow up fast. Please!~~

* * * *

We, Miki and I, arrived nice and early in Berlin. I walked the few blocks to the courthouse and into a pack of reporters. Some were there following up on Mr.. P. K. Dick’s baffling illness. All were there to make my life miserable.

“Joanie, are you on a jury?”

“What happened last night between you and Philip K. Dick.?”

“Did you use some weird mutant power on him?”

“What’s with the weasel on your back?”

I restrained myself, barely, until I heard weasel.

“WEASEL!” I lost it. Then I got it back. I have all the emotional stability of a yo-yo at times.

~~Miki, time for your introduction to society. Open the carrier and get up on my shoulder. If we *play* this right, the press will think you’re a trained pet -- no offense intended. Plus you are so damned cute, how can they not fall in love with you, my little debutant? ~~ Miki giggled back mentally to me. We have a similar sense of humor. The reporters were surprised, and a few gasped as she opened the carrier and climbed out.

“My friend, Miki, is not a weasel. She is an Indian/Javan mongoose that I have the honor of caring for. As you may know, mongooses are restricted from import to Americabecause of the potential for environmental harm should they breed in the wild. Due to an extraordinary set of circumstances, she came into my care. I have all the required papers and exemptions for Miki to be here legally, and I take my responsibility seriously. Take a bow, Miki.” She bowed deeply while balanced on my shoulder and had the crowd won over.

Somebody had to ask, “Why do you own a mongoose? That’s an exotic, and as you say potentially dangerous to the environment. Why not donate her to a zoo or have her humanely put down?”

“Hey, I don’t like reporters, but I don’t advocate locking them up or euthanizing them … usually.” I smiled like a tigress eying a herd of deer she’s cornered. The news people laughed nervously, and the reporter looked rattled. “I don’t own her so much as we have adopted each other. Her previous human died, and she was left all alone. She chose me, to be honest. Sometimes I think I’m her pet. She does not like us being apart, so I got permission to bring her with me. As long as I’m around, she is content, even in crowds. She's fastidious, litter trained and she makes an exceptional watch … mongoose,” I snickered softly.

“Please go back into your carrier, Miki.” She scampered back into the carrier and zipped it shut. The reporters laughed until she zipped it shut; that shocked them.

“She’s quite clever; I’m thinking of having her do my taxes. I have to go or I’ll be late -- excuse me,” I said and walked past them.

* * * *

My fellow jurors were far friendlier today, now that the ice was broken. Many wanted my autograph, so I set up at a work table to minimize disturbing those who wished for quiet. The first call for jurors came and went without my being named. The demand for autographs being satisfied, I moved into the auditorium to watch TV; it was too difficult to study. They had the cable TV tuned to one of those nature channels, the ones that show film of humpback whales, shows with crazy Australians handling dangerous animals, and documentaries with film of animals mating. I dreaded what was likely to come on and it was not that poor man dying in a freak accident with a stingray, though knowing the *refined* tastes of TV programmers, seeing *that* was a given. My fear was …

”The typical male feline will mate with a receptive female anywhere from fifteen to thirty times in the span of a few hours.”

That subject was one I already was obsessed with. I did not need more gasoline thrown on the fire. When the show did start I felt relieved. ~~It’s not as bad as I feared. Hey, Miki, this might interest you. Meerkat Manor is coming on.~~

~~Meerkat?~~

~~They are a kind of small mongoose that live in Africa.~~

~~Mongoose? I will watch.~~

* * * *

Partway through the show, we were interrupted to pull another jury from the pool. I got called this time. Miki kept watching the TV; her eyes were locked on the screen. She didn’t go back into her carrier automatically like I expected.~~We have to go, Miki.~~

~~Must we? May I stay? I can catch up with you.~~

~~Miki?!~~

~~But … Joanie, Flower reminds me of Mom. ~~

~~ I can’t say no to that. Watch your show, if you are certain you can find me safely after.~~

~~Thank you!~~

I got a mental hug, as I left to get in line for the jury. I knew she’d be safe with her ability to blend into the background. She’d lived on her own for 150 years and knew her stuff, but I worried a little. ~~I can’t do this to her. She’s a pregnant woman, and I left her alone in a strange place … Wait a minute, she’s about as defenseless as a tank battalion, with her access to my magic. Am I that much of a softy? Get a grip, girrrrl.~~

* * * *

I grabbed my stuff, sans Miki, and got in line. The bailiff counted heads, said her spiel and led us to Courtroom 310. We stood on our numbers as instructed.

“Remember to stay in the order you are now, as this is how the court will identify you during the voir dire or jury selection process.”

We entered the courtroom and sat down. A bailiff introduced the judge; we stood up and sat down again. I think they do this to give you exercise and let the blood flow to your legs, as much of one’s time in court involves sitting and waiting.

“This is a serious case. The gist is the plaintiff, the side bringing this case, claims he was fired in an illegal manner. The defendant, his former employer, claims the firing was done lawfully and for cause. Each side is suing the other for damages. I anticipate the trial will last for two or three days. Anyone who cannot serve the entire period please inform the bailiff now.”

One person was excused leaving twenty three of us.

The lawyers started interviewing us. I waited my turn. They had assigned our numbers at random down in jury assembly, and like the previous time I’d gotten a high number. This meant I might never get interviewed, or they might have to take me anyhow as they might be short on candidates by the time they got to me. I was called and was ready to be heading back to jury assembly again. The plaintiff’s lawyers went first.

“Juror number 23, have you ever served on a jury before?”

“Yes, twice.”

“The type of trial?”

“They were both civil cases involving cars. One was a drunk driving case, the other was a pedestrian accident.”

“Would you have any difficulty reaching a fair decision?”

“I take this duty seriously and would try to be fair and unbiased.”

“One last question. What do you do for a living?”

“I am employed at a local private boarding school where I also am a student. I sing a little, too.” That last statement got some laughs from the court.

I saw the light come on over his head. “Ah, so you are her. I have no objection to this juror.”

The defense went next; a woman took the lead. “You are a professional singer?”

“Yes, though accidentally at first.”

“Accidentally?”

“A recording of my singing at a birthday party got posted to the Web, and next thing I know I’m a 'recording artist.'” I made quote marks in the air with my hands. There were further snickers from the court, until the judge frowned.

“You are also a student? Will that interfere with the attention this case requires?”

“I’m only a part-time student, and my school is most accommodating. A few days disruption would be no imposition.”

“Are you related to any of the parties to this case?”

“Not that I know. I moved here from Wisconsin last December, so I doubt I know anyone.”

A fellow lawyer said something to her, and I heard her reply almost angrily to him.

“Is there a problem, Counsel?” the judge asked.

“My colleague just reminded me of something. Juror 23, am I correct in assuming you are a mutant?”

The plaintiff’s council was about to interrupt when the judge beat them to it.

“Counsel, you had better justify that question. You know questioning a juror about their race, sex, sexual orientation and mutant status is illegal unless there is cause,” The judgehwas not pleased but neither was I.

“Your Honor, we, my colleague and I, are concerned that her celebrity status as a public figure and known mutant will disrupt the proceedings.”

“May I answer their concerns, Your Honor?”

“If you wish; you are under no compulsion to answer.”

“I’ve been on juries prior to my mutation, and I know that whatever the issues at stake, a trial is important to the parties involved. I consider jury duty a task deserving my best effort. I assure everyone present I will be as fair and unbiased as I possibly can. I would expect no less if I was one of the parties involved. I will do my best not to be a distraction, and I know not to discuss the case with anyone, including other jurors, until released to do so by the court. I’m a teacher as well as a student, and I want to set a good example for my fellow students.”

I must have said the right thing because I was seated on the jury. The defense never challenged me after that. When the last juror was seated the judge gave a warning.

“Jurors, not discuss the case between yourselves or anyone else until I say so. Do not try to investigate this case on your own. The evidence and testimony presented in this trial are what you must go by. I will instruct you on the law if and when the case goes to you for deliberation. Wear your juror badges at all times; they remind others not to discuss cases in your presence. If someone should approach you about the case, or you overhear anything related to this case, inform the bailiff.”

* * * *

The case started after a fifteen-minute bathroom break. The lawyers for each side laid out what they intended to prove. A longtime employee was suing over his firing. He claimed it was without cause and possibly discriminatory. The firm argued it was a legitimate business decision and based on performance.

From what the sides were saying, the ex-employee’s performance was key. The man, a middle-aged African-American, was fit, well groomed and spoke in a cultured tone. I was impressed with his dispassionate testimony. His lawyer presented a stack of performance reviews from the last five years, plus numerous letters from customers of the company praising his work. The defense stipulated these were all legitimate documents and did not dispute them. So far it seemed a slam-dunk for the plaintiff. This went on for several hours until the judge had us break for lunch.

Miki caught up with me, as I headed to lunch. She called to me from a little used stairway where she got into her carrier.

~~I did not wish to disturb you. I patrolled outside the room you were in. I found some tainted creatures, but they were human.”~~

~~Must be lawyers. Good thing you didn’t eat any, they might give you indigestion.~~ I giggled a little.~~ Is there any risk?~~

~~I will keep vigil.~~ Miki was quite serious, and I felt ashamed; that made me giggle. I am sooo blonde some days.

We walked down to the basement cafeteria where I had a soup and sandwich plate and Miki got a piece of poached cod. I let her have some of the cheese from my sandwich and a little of my milk; I figured she could use the extra calcium for her future babies. I got some stares, but my jury badge kept people at bay. Anyone with the badge is in a trial and no discussion of any trials may be carried on in their presence. We finished eating and walked slowly towards the elevators. A school group was touring the courthouse, and the kids went crazy when they saw me.

“Are you Joanie?”

“What kind of animal is in the cage?”

And so on.

“I’m on a jury, so I can’t talk about anything to do with the case. Yes, I’m Joanie the singer. I have to do jury duty like any other adult. It’s important work and interesting. The critter in my carrier is Miki. I have special permission for her to be here. You can see her, but be careful, she’s pregnant.”

I let her out and held her gently so the kids could see.

“What is it?”

“She is a girl and my friend. Miki is a mongoose. If you remember the Disney film, The Lion King, Timon the Meerkat is another kind of mongoose.” That got smiles of recognition from most of them. I let them pet her then excused myself. I returned to the jury room for our court and waited until we were called.

The afternoon was tied up with a series of supporting witnesses, some current employees testifying what a good worker he was. The defense was permitted to cross-examine, but his witnesses stayed consistent in their testimony. This continued on until late afternoon when the plaintiff finished and the defense began. The Judge had us break for the day and admonished us not to speak to anyone of the case.

“Trial will resume at 9:30 AM tomorrow, Saturday. Remember, no discussing this case with anyone. Court adjourned.”

* * * *

The press was more respectful today. I think a few were afraid of me.

“Sorry, can’t speak, I’m on a trial. Take care and I hope Mr. Dick is up and better.” And I meant it too, but I did snicker at his name.

* * * *

Back at campus, I practiced with the Sabers and worked on one of my class papers. I stopped by The Crystal Hall and the school store that evening to pick up fresh supplies for my menagerie. George and Gracie were growing at a furious pace, and I needed to provide them with the best quality food possible. Miki had her needs as well, though she could supplement them with hunting. I loaded up a campus utility cart I’d borrowed and made my way toward Poe.

“Joanie, wait up please.”

“Dr. Pollard? What can I do for you?” I stopped my cart for the moment.

“I have those recommendations for a pregnant mongoose’s diet and exercise I promised. I asked Security to locate you for me.”

I quickly scanned the list he gave me. “This is close to what I’m giving her to supplement her hunting.”

“I recommend you let her hunt, as the small creatures she eats whole will provide valuable minerals.. A standard human multivitamin with calcium and other essential trace elements — not one of those mega vitamins though — can be used, but the dosage needs to be cut way down. The ones formulated for pregnant women would be ideal. If the bottle says one per day, dissolve it in a little water and add it little by little to her water over a week’s time.

“Joanie, as a rule of thumb, the nutritional needs are proportional to weight adjusted for metabolic rate, assuming an average sized human female is about your weight. In other words, Miki’s sixty-day pregnancy and faster metabolism means she needs more than a proportionate dose, but I don’t want her to get an overdose either. Save the unused portion in a sealed bottle in the refrigerator for use later or just dispose of it as these supplements are inexpensive.”

“The kitties drink out of her bowl and visa versa. Is that a problem?”

“Either put her bowl where they can’t reach, or you could dose all the water; the supplements would not harm the smilodons and could prove beneficial as they are actively growing.”

I asked various questions, including one about the vitamin C in the pills. “Humans are one of the few animals that can’t make their own. I worry the cats in particular might suffer from an overdose.”

“Joanie, don’t worry,” he assured me. “As a water-soluble vitamin, it won’t harm them, particularly in the small dosage they would get.

“If you are worried, a supplement intended for farm raised mink would do as well. The feed stores in Arkham or Berlin should carry it, or we can order some for you. Let her have all the water and food she wants, but I don’t want to see Miki get fat. A ten to fifteen percent weight gain is quite sufficient for the healthy development of her kits, and most of that gain is late in pregnancy. Bring her to me weekly at first, so I can watch for signs of trouble.”

“What about exercise and …?”

“Leave her routine unchanged, except for the supplement and checkups. The activity will keep her healthy; you don’t want to coop her up or stress her out. Normal activity is fine. She’s survived on her own for 150 years; she knows what she’s doing.”

I told Miki that later, and it made her day.

~~Thank you. Then I may continue my duty to Kushala?~~

~~ Guarding the demon your late Mistress and her friends contained and then buried at a terrible price in lives? Miki, remember, I witnessed the burial of her and her unborn child and that of her husband. It was such a gray, wet November day. It was also day we first glimpsed each other. Absolutely, you may continue to guard the demons tomb. I would never come between you and your duty but be careful, my friend.~~

I spent some time with my cats -- they deserved some attention, too -- and went to bed early.

* * * *

May 26, 2007 Saturday, yes it’s a Saturday

You’re wondering why a trial would be continued on a Saturday? Because the Court said so, so there! — Joanie sticks out tongue at her d/j/w readers -- And would you argue with a judge? Plus the guy had to be a bit loopy; I mean he wore this silly black robe that looked like cheap kimono rip-off to me, and it didn’t do a thing for him. The color was so totally not right. Now the same *robe* on me, with some lacy red dainties and open toed heels … I was kidding; you people are no fun at all. Mind you that idea for an outfit, maybe using a real kimono, could be hot!

The trial was to resume at nine-thirty in the morning. Miki and I got to the courthouse a half-hour before, to be safe. We started on time, which surprised me, as court tends to be hurry-up/wait. The defense opened with a shocker.

“Mr. Roberts, did you witness the plaintiff drinking alcohol at work?”

“His last few months in our employ, I noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath with increasing frequency. I reminded him of the company policy on being drunk at work.”

“Objection! We were not informed of this witness and his testimony in advance.”

“I will allow this for now, but there had better be supporting evidence soon or I will exclude this testimony.”

The defense continued and produced a company physician who testified to counseling the plaintiff for alcoholism. They presented documents in support. The case was getting interesting.

The plaintiff’s lawyer asked for a few minutes with her client. While the court paused for a few minutes, I looked around from my seat. My fellow jurors looked as surprised by the defense testimony as I was. The plaintiff looked clean-cut and sober, but then any lawyer worth their fees would present their client in the best possible light.

The plaintiff’s wife and daughter were sitting in court and were equally shocked or so their body language indicated. Something about the family and their daughter struck me as odd. Dad and mom were what my former inner-city coworkers would call ‘dark-skinned’. The daughter was more of a ‘milk chocolate’, had a slight, delicate build, and her facial features were far too soft, almost Asian, whereas the parents had angular, strong faces and muscular, athletic builds -- what a fashion photographer might call ‘good bone structure’. For a moment, I wondered if she was adopted or from a previous marriage. Then she moved, and I saw her elfin ears poke though her hair. Her oversized violet eyes cinched it. ~~His daughter is a mutant … and she’s so cute!~~ My male mind does surface from time-to-time -- it has very good taste, too.

* * * *

We broke for lunch after that, a two-hour break as the judge granted a plaintiff’s request for more time to prepare for rebuttal after the surprise witness.

“Be back here in time for court to resume at two. If you need a suggestion for lunch, the food cart on this floor does a great Chicago-style hot dog with real Vienna brand sausages. I went to law school in Chicago, and these are the real deal. Wang’s Garden, a Chinese restaurant one block east on Main is good, too. Remember, do not discuss the case with anyone. Back at two, everybody.”

Something about the defense bothered me, but I couldn’t pin it down. I decided to remain neutral and set my feelings aside. As I left the jury box, I noticed the woman and the mutant teen girl embrace the plaintiff. ~~I was right, they are his family.~~ They had to be his family or very close friends. I rode an elevator to the basement cafeteria. The wife and daughter were in there along with me, a bailiff, and several people I did not recognize. On seeing my jury badge, they kept quiet.

In the cafeteria, a name invented for the Colombian Exposition in Chicago in 1892, really, I didn’t see anything much that appealed, so I got a small garden salad and juice for me plus a hardboiled egg and a carton of whole milk for Miki. I found us a quiet corner table, and we sat down. One of the defense lawyers, a man in a dark pinstripe suit, came in as did the man who gave the devastating testimony. Then I saw something that chilled me, a silver HF tie-tac on the lawyer and a HF lapel pin on the witness. They seemed very chummy, as they talked. I thought I might have seen a small Manila envelope passed between the lawyer and the man. The wife and daughter of the plaintiff were also eating here, and the lawyer saw them. I saw his facial expression turn hard; the look scared me.

~~Joanie, the man in the dark coat with stripes hates mutants. I sensed it. When he looks at the girl-child of the dark man, he is full of hate. He tried to suppress it when he looked at you. He would kill both of you, if he could get away with it. Forgive me, I did not speak of this before.~~

~~That is your job, to determine who only hates and who is a danger. What of the man he spoke with, the man who said the girl’s dad was a drunkard?~~

~~Drunkard?~~

~~Like you felt after you ate the spoiled mango in Hawaii. Not the sexual feelings, but the lack of control and dizziness.~~

~~He hates mutants. He is proud of his lies. The other man, the doctor, was scared. Something he loves is in danger. He lied, Joanie. I am certain.~~

Now what would I do? Miki’s mental powers are not exactly proof in court. I did see the HF pins, and the reaction of the men to the mutant girl was unmistakable. And there was the envelope. Not much, but I considered informing the court as this hinted at perjury. We finished our meal and headed to a restroom.

I did my duty, as did Miki; I said she’s toilet trained. I was leaving the ladies room when Mr. Mutant-hater lawyer and pal walked by. I caught part of a conversation.

“… make sure he doesn’t change his mind. If he recants …” they saw people walking by and stopped. Fortunately they didn’t see me.

I had a big problem and decided I must inform the judge -- plus I was still hungry. The salad wasn’t enough. I walked up to the courtroom floor and got one of those Chicago dogs and a soda. I was nearly finished when I heard.…

“I, um, see someone has good taste in cuisine.” It was our bailiff; he smiled at me but was blushing. It struck me as odd.

“It’s pretty good -- messy but good. I have a problem I need to see the judge about. Is that possible?” I took another bite of the sausage and licked my lips clean. I caught my reflection off the glass covering a nearby bulletin board and all became clear. ~~The way I’m eating my *dog* is … Oh my! No wonder the bailiff is all *flustered*. I’ve been teasing him, subconsciously. I guess I miss Eric more than I thought.~~

“Wait here.”

A few minutes later, I was led into the judge’s chambers.

“The bailiff said you needed to see me?”

“I remember your instructing us to report to you if someone approached us or discussed the case in our presence? I was eating lunch in the courthouse cafeteria, when I noticed one of the defense lawyers, and the man who was first to testify that the plaintiff was drinking at work, talking with each other. They both wore Humans First insignia. One had an HF a tie-tac and the other a HF pin. As a prominent mutant, I am familiar with their logo. They were very chummy, and the lawyer passed a small envelope to the man.”

“Continue.”

“I noticed the lawyer looking at the defendant’s daughter and wife; they were also eating in the cafeteria. I assume they are the plaintiff’s family from where they sat in court and their embracing him as we broke for lunch. The lawyer’s facial expressions showed hatred towards them. You honor, I work at a school for mutants and the daughter is a mutant, I am certain. I …”

“There is more?”

“I was exiting a ladies room and I overheard part of a conversation between the two same men. I heard the lawyer saying, ‘… make sure he doesn’t change his mind. If he recants….’ Everything I have related occurred by accident. I felt I must report this to the court. I’m sorry, if I caused trouble.”

“You did the right thing. Please wait in this side room until the bailiff comes for you. I need to see both sides in chambers.”

`* * * *

A while later, I heard people entering the judge’s chambers, and his questioning each side. At one point he got loud, possibly angry, and the bailiff came for me. I saw both sides' lawyers, the plaintiff and the chief representative of the company in the room with a visibly upset judge.

“Ms. Brown, please relate exactly what you told me earlier.”

I did, and the plaintiff’s lawyer listened intently, while the defense’s team of lawyers looked at the HF-tainted lawyer with increasing contempt.

“Your honor, may we have a moment to confer with our client?”

“Granted, but be brief.”

A minute later, “The defense is appalled that one or our team would stoop to suborn perjury. He is, of course, suspended until we can investigate further, but be assured his days with us are over, if this proves to be true. My client wishes to withdraw his defense and settle.”

“A bit late in the game,” the judge replied, clearly pissed off.

“In the interest of saving the court the burden of a trial, what is your offer?” The plaintiff’s lawyer asked.

“We will double the total cash value of what we last proposed.”

“So you’re offering sixteen weeks severance pay for an unlawful firing and deliberate injury to my client’s reputation? We will no settle for less than reinstatement to his position with due compensation for lost opportunities for advancement, salary increases and incentive bonuses, the payment of all his legal costs and court fees, a comprehensive plan to prevent such abusive and discriminatory practices in future, and a public apology.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I agree, but my client wishes to get this over and is not interested in seeking punitive damages … if we can settle.”

“I’d reconsider, if I was your client, defense. The plaintiff’s demands appear reasonable. We can always go to the jury and let them decide after I instruct them to ignore the perjured testimony and falsified evidence submitted by the last two witnesses. I will pass all of this on to the District Attorney and the State Bar. They frown on conspiracies to commit perjury, particularly by members of the bar. Then there is the matter of the company’s doctor that suggests coercion. Or the plaintiff could move for a summary judgment, and I assure you the imposed remedy will be *memorable*. Bailiff, please escort the juror back to the waiting room and thank you, ma’am.”

One hour later we were led back into the courtroom and dismissed with the judge’s thanks. The lawyer and witnesses I’d fingered were *politely* requested to remain behind, while the judge decided whether to hold them in contempt or let the DA charge them with perjury. The defense looked like they wanted to kill me, but the way they looked at the likely-to-be-ex lawyer in their midst was far worse. I walked towards the elevator, until I saw men with HF pins. To be honest I didn’t exactly see the pins, but they had *the look* and certainly gave me the look. ~~They could make a fortune curdling milk for cheese makers with *that*. Ehw!~~ If I’d had the presence of mind, I’d have wet myself; these guys were that scary. Instead, I chose a different elevator. I was exiting the courthouse, when the plaintiff’s wife and daughter came up to me.

“Thank you for what you did for us in court.”

“Ma’am, I only did my duty as a juror. Oh, lovely, that sounded like a bad script from an old cowboy movie. I should have said that in a fake Gary Cooper voice, huh, I mean yup.” I giggled from nervousness.

“I understand what you meant, Ms. Brown.”

“Joanie, please.”

“I appreciate your sticking you neck out, Joanie.”

“I accidentally learned of something that the judge had to know. If it had been your side acting suspicious, I would have done the same. I noticed your daughter is like me, a mutant. Has she been evaluated or received training since her mutation?”

I turned to face her daughter and smiled. “I love the look. You’re very pretty.”

The previously nervous, almost timid teenager smiled and blushed. I swore I heard her ask, “I’m pretty?” but her mouth never opened.

“Mariel’s been evaluated locally, but they recommended more testing. Unfortunately, with my husband being fired and the expense of the lawsuit and trial, she’s had to attend a public school. No one there has the training to deal with new mutants. She’s not happy.”

“With your exotic looks, I imagine some students bully you, Mariel. I imagine the boys try to take liberties, like they think you’re a slutty girl. Sorry, but I bet it’s true.”

I sensed a wave of happiness, bordering on embarrassment that quickly changed to sorrow and almost anger.

“The girls hate me. I used to be kinda fat and plain, and now they accuse me of seducing their boy friends. I don't know why they say that; I'm not after anyone's boyfriend or girlfriend. I'm still getting used to the new me. They call me a slut, and I even got detention once for fighting because the teacher couldn’t figure out who started it. I was only defending myself when the teacher walked in. It’s not fair. I’m still the same person except for my appearance. I’ve never hurt anyone.” Her voice was sweet and innocent.

“I teach at a school for mutants not far from here; it’s one of only a half dozen or so such schools in the US. If you have any major powers, Mariel, you might want to check it out.

“It’s horridly expensive, but they offer a lot of financial aid, and I know of an organization that might offer Mariel a grant. If you mention my name, they’ll do their best to help you.” I gave the mom a card with the Whateley web site on it."

I turned to Mariel and whispered “You’re a telepath and or an empath, aren’t you?”

She nodded but looked surprised.

“How did you know?”

“I have some friends who are, and I could sort of *hear* you earlier. You need evaluation and training for your health, safety and sanity. You have a gift that is potentially very lucrative. If you are any good at it, you will be in demand by all sides of the business and political worlds, including the bad guys.” I got out a pen and another business card. “Mariel, this is my private email. Write me, and I’ll send you and your mom info about the school and the foundation offering the scholarship grants. Do you have online access?”

The mother nodded. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Yes, I do; people helped me after my mutation, I’m just passing on the favor. It’s nothing spiritual or some mystical/karma thing like in the films Magnificent Obsession or Pay it Forward, it’s simply the right thing to do I’ve got to go, but do email me, okay? Mariel needs special training plus …”

I went into blonde mode, “Us hot-looking girls have got to stick together. Fighting the good fight against those yucky bad people and, um, split-ends, you know.” I giggled and Mariel laughed, any remaining tension broken by my dumb bunny act. I had a thought. “Mariel, do you sing or play an instrument?” I asked this in my normal voice … the serious girl, duh!

“Piano, voice and, this is embarrassing, I play accordion”

“I suppose somebody has to,” I sighed. We all laughed. “I’m in a band with a great bunch of girls, all students at the school. I’m a student as well as an instructor there. I’m still learning about this new body and my abilities the same as you. We’re always looking for talent. At a minimum, I could introduce you to the gals so you’ll know a few people on campus. There are quite a few other bands as well, so you won’t have to give up your music.” ~~I’ll have to get her a signed photo from Al.~~

I walked away and noticed a man with a camera and big telephoto lens was snapping pictures. ~Paparazzo already? Oh well, let’s make his day.~~ I smiled and waved at the man, and he ran off. ~~Weird.~~

* * * *

I had a pleasant drive to Whateley, checked in, and took care of my critters. I had a large overnight package waiting for me. In it was a letter from Al -- my producer/collaborator on the BET recordings -- explaining his intentions, along with sheet music and disks with tracks he’d recorded for me.

“I hope the songs and arrangements are to your satisfaction. I checked with your Warners producer, and everything is in keys and formats you are used to. Once you are familiar with the material, we can set up a time for rehearsal and recording at your convenience. I also included my concert schedule, so you know when I am available.”

I decided to practice as much as my schedule allowed, so we could record before I left for Wales.

* * * *

Suzy came by my linen closet and asked to see me. I was on such informal terms with the Sabers it was surprise she was so formal. She was also extremely excited about something. She was excited, even by *teenager in love* standards.

“Joanie, I have the greatest news.”

“You’ve sworn off boys and are now a confirmed lesbian, so I can finally get some sleep at night?”

“Joanie! You know Tom and I only kiss, and … We just kiss.”

~~Peachy, I bet she was about to confess they masturbate each other or have had oral sex or have just ... I do NOT want to know this!~~

“Sorry, Suzy, he’s a perfect gentleman.”

“He is, I’m the one who usually starts something, not that he doesn’t follow eagerly. Boy is he ever eager, so VERY eager,” she moaned and rolled her eyes in mock ecstasy”

“Whaaat?” I gasped.

Suzy giggled. “You are so easy to windup, cousin. Don’t worry, we haven’t done *it* yet. What I want to tell you is Mom and Dad are visiting my grandparents in Wisconsin the first weekend in June and if I can get a ride to …”

“You want me to drive you to my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Glendale?”

“Yeah, it will be safe, no one knows we’ll be coming and your MSG friends are watching over them all the time. Pretty please?” she cooed and batted her pretty eyes at me.

“Oh, all right. I planned on visiting my friends out that way anyhow so, yeah, you have a ride.”

“You’re visiting Eric, aren’t you?”

“Well, Duh!”

“Do I have to take you to medical and get you on birth control too?”

“We are not … I mean, Eric and I don’t … We …Oh Suzy, I wish I could take the Pill but being a regen it doesn’t work for me. And as much as I’d wish it he’s still male jailbait. Kissing and holding hands is the limit of our intimacy for now. Believe me when I say Tom and your restraint is admired. I want Eric so bad it hurts sometimes. I imagine you feel the same about Tom.”

“It isn’t easy but I respect Mom and Dad too much to hurt them and speaking of Mom and Dad…” Suzy took a cell phone out of her school blazer pocket and spoke into it. “Mom, did you hear Joanie accept? Yeah, it worked like a charm. Sure, I’ll put her on.” She handed me the phone.

“This cell hone was on? I was set up, Christine?”

“You betcha! It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Thank you for doing this for us. Suzy loves you and we trust her with you, Joanie. We’ll make sure she gets safely back to Whateley. Your MSG friends have offered to help so all you need to do is get her to Mom and Dads’, your Aunt and Uncle’s house.”

“You do that and you’ll have my gratitude too.” It was her husband, Bubba. Hey, he’s from the South so he’s far game.

“I promise.” I handed the cell back to Suzy.

“Thank, cousin. We are gonna have such fun on our trip!”

~~You know, I think we will.~~

May 27, 2007, Sunday

The spring session was scheduled to end by 12:30 PM, on May thirty-first, this year. After that, students were free to start vacation, though Graduation wasn’t until Sunday, June the third. I considered attending Graduation, but none of my friends would be there, except for staff. I got a call to meet Ms. Carson for a rare Sunday meeting, at 7:30 AM no less. I brought my Whateley laptop along in case of whatever. It pays to be prepared with regards to the boss.

She asked me questions about my time here, how I was fitting in, and where I was uncomfortable. She also inquired about my school friends, how we were getting on and the like. She even complimented me on how fast my farm projects were progressing, and that the farmhouse was complete except for a little paint and some landscaping. We conversed casually for some time about this and that. When I felt relaxed — like any successful hunter -- she sprang her surprise.

“Joanie, I will cut to the chase, I want you to attend our Graduation ceremony this coming Sunday. With few exceptions, you are the most famous person on campus, and you get on well with the students. I think the students would welcome your presence at what by reputation is a boring ceremony.”

“Physically and emotionally I’m their age, so that’s understandable. Other than having a pretty face the kids like, why me? What would I do?”

“You could do a speech about your time here, and what it means to you to be a mutant. You could tell about the responsibly that comes with being a super.”

“I am not doing that awful line from the comic books. Let Stan Lee do it, not me. ‘With great power comes yada-yada-yada.’ What a pompous twit.” Then I giggled which spoiled the whole outraged bitchy woman thing I had going.

To her credit, Ms Carson smiled and ignored it. “Just tell the students what happened, and why you acted as you did. Tell the truth and be yourself. Perhaps you could hand out awards and so on.”

“Ah, I heard the *and so on*. I know what this is all about; you want me to sing. Sorry, you couldn’t possibly afford my services, I’m far too expensive.” I said and giggled …again. Even in front of Ms. Carson, I giggle; it’s so embarrassing.

“Joanie!”

“Give me a moment, Ms Carson ….” Center yourself, Joanie. Time to act your legal age and not your physical one.~~ “Sorry, Elizabeth, I am so used to being a teen, being one of the students here, I fall into *blonde* mode instinctively. I didn’t mean to act like my IQ is less than my bra size.”

“I understand the need to maintain a false front. I would never have survived as a mutant super if I’d not reinvented my identity many times over the years.” She smiled. “You know, that would be a respectable IQ score in centimeters.”

I laughed. “Very good, Elizabeth and I deserved that for earlier. I would love to stay for the ceremony. You know me by now; I can’t keep out of the limelight. You could ask me to sing in a giant chicken costume or stark naked and I would do it. Well, maybe not the chicken costume; I have my standards.” I laughed and so did she.

“You are trying to tell me no, Joanie?”

“It’s not that I don’t love the campus. I’m building a home down the road; that must prove my dedication to the Academy. Ms. Carson, Elizabeth, I promised Suzy Kenner’s parents … let’s be honest, I promised my dear cousin I would keep her daughter safe. They want to see each other, and MSG assures me they have tight surveillance on the neighborhood where her grandparents live. Christine wants me to escort Suzy to her grandparents where they can all have a quiet reunion.

“I know the house and neighborhood very well, so I can get there from several different routes should I think we are being followed. They will get Suzy safely back to Whateley a week or so later. MSG says they can arrange cover for the trip back. Ms. Carson, it's family, and I have so little left since my mutation. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you but Suzy only asked me last night.”

“I don’t know. You can’t delay a few days?”

“I want to spend some time with my dad and sister, and as much time as I can in Iowa. I miss my family and I owe the Williams-Johnsons so much.”

“So this is about a boy, Missy?”

“Damn straight, Skippy!” I broke up, and Ms. Carson relented.

“Granted, but you owe me and Whateley a big favor.”

“”Name it, within reason. I’m not stupid enough to give you carte blanche.”

“I may have the very thing. Meet me in the executive conference room in ten minutes for the staff meeting. I’ll bring up my favor there.”

“Staff meeting? No one told me about a staff meeting.” I had to look confused, because I sure felt that way

“There was a memo sent via private email, and a notice in all the staff lounges.”

“I was busy studying for finals and helping my friends, so I’ve not been in a staff lounge lately. I do check my email several times a day, and I never saw a notice. Here, let me show you.”

I set my laptop on her desk, opened it, logged on and checked my mailboxes. There was no record of my receiving any such memo though I did receive one from Mariel requesting materials on Whateley, application forms, scholarships, grants and the like. I flagged it with a note to answer her ASASP.

“I met a recent mutant, Mariel, while on jury duty and gave her my email address. She’s a telepath and might benefit by coming here.”

“Collecting another stray are we, dear?”

“Just passing on information to someone in need of it”

“Have her write to me, I’ll handle it, Ms Softy.”

“Thanks, that’s kind of you. If you can’t swing it, Meridian might help out …” I gave her a big smile. “Getting back to the upcoming staff meeting, see, no memo from Ms Hartford. I’ll scroll through them all again to be sure.”

I let Ms. Carson watch as I did it, and she looked upset when I’d finished.

Ms. Carson pressed a button on her intercom. “Ms. Hartford, please come to my office,” she said without a hint of emotion.

Ms. Hartford entered promptly. “Yes, Ms. Carson, Ms. … um, Joanie.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hartford. I appreciate you calling me Joanie. I know it goes against your instincts regarding social formalities.”

“If you can *refrain* from referring to me by the *A* word, I can be less than strictly formal with you … Miss Brown.” She seemed to smile for a moment.

I had a hard time not giggling inanely. “A joke? *You* made a joke, and a subtle one at that? I am impressed … Ms. Hartford.” I smiled likewise.

Okay, who thought I was going to call her Amelia

“What may I do for you, Ms. Carson?”

“We were looking at Joanie’s school laptop, and there is no record of her receiving the notice to this morning’s staff meeting. She’s only here because I spoke to her in person, yesterday. This was completely unrelated but has proved fortuitous it seems.”

“Let me look. I sent the notices myself, and she was on the list.”

“Do you need my passwords?” I asked as she typed on my laptop at breakneck speed.

“I have overrides; I’m the sysop, after all. That’s odd, nothing in your staff email ... maybe in the general ... no. Your Security emails … personal emails … student emails, most recent saved, opened or deleted files?” She looked shocked.

“Believe me, I read your memos, Ms. Hartford.”

“I’ll need to test this unit at once. I have everything I need at my desk to run a full diagnostic; excuse me, but this could be serious. We may have a breach of computer or system security.”

“It’s not a prank, Ms. Hartford; blonde’s honor.” I giggled. And I swear for a moment she smiled back. ~~She smiled twice in the same meeting? There may be hope for her yet.~~

* * * *

My machine was being automatically tested, while the staff meeting commenced.

“Everyone, this meeting will be brief and of interest to you all. We have a new and distinguished part-time instructor coming to Whateley, and I’d like the department heads and certain members of the staff,“ she stared directly at me, “to organize a reception dinner and entertainment in her honor. She’ll be arriving at Whateley in approximately one month. She’d be here sooner, if not for private and governmental red tape related to her *change*. Initially, she will be here to obtain housing and get settled in prior to her formal introduction to the staff and faculty. The reception will be timed so that most of the fall staff and faculty will be able to attend. I suggest a date somewhere in mid-August. I have every confidence in your abilities to plan an appropriate dinner and reception with entertainment.”

“As an aid to your planning, the entertainment for the evening’s festivities will be organized by our Mr. King aided by Ms. Brown, who I am told has some abilities in this area.” That got some polite chuckles. “Are there any questions? One at a time, please.”

“What is this distinguished individual’s name, their area of expertise, and are they a mutant. I meant to say, what kind of a mutant are they?” Rev. Englund asked. Somebody had to, and if he hadn‘t I would have.

“That’s three questions, Reverend, but I will let it slide as they are all relevant. Doctor Danielle Edwina O’Neill will be a part-time instructor in the History and Languages departments.” The Reverend perked up noticeably on hearing this. ~~He seems inordinately interested in Doctor O’Neill. I do hope she’ll be okay; he gives me the creeps.~~ In addition to her duties at Whateley she will continue teaching at Brown — no snickering, Joanie — University in Providence, Rhode Island, and possibly several others on occasion. She's a Professor Emeritus in Egyptology at Brown.”

I struggled to contain myself. Emeritus, not Emerita, but the doctor is a woman? Sounds like a candidate for Poe.~~

“She will continue consulting on archaeological excavations. She’s a world-class expert on ancient Egyptian civilization and language, and the most knowledgeable living scholar on the early history of the combined Upper and Lower Kingdoms.

“She does not produce scholarly works exclusively. She is not just a field researcher but also an educator, which is why Whateley is fortunate to obtain her services. For those who wish a *general audience* example of her work, she recently appeared in The National Geographic. She has written several articles for them over his, Dan's, now her, Dani's, long career and recently authored a major article on the ancient Egyptian capital of Memphis complete with illustrations of what it may have looked like.”

~~Ah-ha!~~ I wrestled with my silly demons and felt my control slipping. They were not playing fair.

“There are several excellent photos of him, prior to her transformation, and of his dig crew, for those who are curious. As Dan he was a longtime contributor; you might wish to look up some of the old issues for additional background on the doctor.”

That did it; the demons won.

“Joanie, stop snickering! I’m referring to Dr. O’Neill, not that fictional Time Lord with a penchant for British gravel pits and screaming female *companions*.”

I was tempted to cry out, ”I resemble that remark,” but decided not to. Okay, I thought of it afterwards, damned 20/20 hindsight.

Ms. Carson smiled at me, and I felt better.

“She is coming to Whateley in part to be evaluated and receive training for her powers. She has offered to devise, research, and teach a class here on mythological races -- the first of its kind anywhere. She also has significant findings she wants to write up for her colleagues. Thank you all. Joanie, would you wait behind, please?”

* * * *

Everyone left, except for the two of us.

“Okay, this is where I get *volunteered* for the suicide mission? Remember, my codename is Timeout, not Kamikaze.”

“Hardly that, Joanie. I want you to be Doctor O’Neill’s mentor and troubleshooter regarding all things Whateley. She will be a great addition to our faculty, so I need someone she can feel comfortable with to ease any difficulties that arise. There is no doubt of her qualification to teach and research, so she needs no help with that. Pick her brain, Joanie, you might pick up some useful tricks of the trade. Where she will need assistance is in getting used to Whateley and our *unique* culture. You must admit, Whateley can be intimidating to the newly arrived.”

“I can see how Whateley will benefit, particularly from her course on mythological races given the considerable number of living mythologicals and avatars on campus. I find it odd you picked me. What do I, Miss July, have in common with such an eminent and senior scholar? I mean, you said she’s a Professor Emeritus. They usually get that distinction after years in the profession. What is she, sixty-five? I repeat myself only because I need to know: why was I volunteered?”

“As arguably the most famous, or is that infamous, face at Whateley, and the Meridian Chair holder, you’re ideally suited,” Ms. Carson said, then chuckled.

I could tell from her tone I was not getting off lightly for the couch attack. This was clearly in retribution for that. I decided to counter attack.

Oh, I didn’t tell you about her office couch and a fatal — for the couch -- attack by two crazed smilodons, did I? It must have slipped my mind, dear d/j/whatever readers.

“It was the couch’s own fault, Ms. Carson, teasing my smilodons like that, sticking its plush armrests out in that provocative manner. The sofa was asking for it,” I said, and Ms. Carson shook her head and smiled.

In my defense I must point out I did pay for a replacement for the custom, imported leather, hand-made couch they destroyed. Oh-boy, um girl, did I pay; my furry friends have expensive tastes.

“I must thank you; the new couch is an excellent replacement, though I should have kept the old one as a trophy. This is no punishment, Joanie. You truly are the logical choice to organize the reception and to ease her arrival on campus. You will like Ms. O’Neill. I called some friends at Dartmouth to ask about her; she has a reputation as a kind-hearted, patient person, a dedicated scholar, and has a sharp wit. He dealt primarily with graduate students in recent years but did teach introductory courses so the transition to her dealing with teenage pupils won’t be a total shock. Joanie, what I am about to say is to stay between us, do you understand

“I can keep a secret when necessary. Since you are asking, it must be a whopper.”

“This is difficult to put into words. In the time since her change, she has experienced something similar to your *research trips*. I will leave it to her to give you the details, if and when she is comfortable with it. You would do well to return the favor and tell her about your *trips*. Joanie, once you trust each other she may wish to enlist your unique talents for various projects of hers and her experience could help you make better use of your, *talent* ... Her love of music and singing is legendary among her graduate students, or so I am told.”

~~Huh? That last comment came way out of left field.~~I thought I caught a hint of a wry smile on her face. Ms. Carson’s been doing the superheroine and schoolmistress role for so long, it’s hard to read her.

“What kind of music?”

“She’s partial to music of the first half of the 20th century, classic country music -- pre-1950, in particular. I’m sure you can devise suitable entertainment, in good taste, of course. Most importantly, you and Samantha Everheart have more in common with Dr. O’Neill than any others on campus -- you in particular, John.”

When she used my male name, it hit me why I was her choice. “Though you didn't say it explicitly, you implied she is a male-to-female mutant. I mean,’ In the time since her change, she has experienced’ and ‘She has written multiple articles for them over his, Dan's, now her, Dani's, long career,‘ are not what I would call subtle clues, and there were lots more.”

“A brilliant deduction, Nancy Drew.”

“I’m trying to be serious here, but well played, Elizabeth. And thanks for not calling me Daphne.” Now she laughed. I giggled openly. “However, even a blond snail could have figured out Dani’s mutation involved a sex change. Something you said was much more informative, you said she was a Professor Emeritus, not Emerita. I’m not student of Latin but the meaning is clear. Combine it with everything else you said Doctor O’Neill must have had a late onset mutation, very late, I take it. She mutated at what, sixty-five or even seventy years of age? That is unprecedented to my knowledge. She’s lucky to be alive,” I said.

“You're partially right; all three of you underwent your transformations far later in life than most. Sam transformed in her early 40s, you in your late 40’s, Dr. Dan O’Neill transformed at 97 years old into Dani, who is physically 19. All of you are students of history: Sam as a soldier, you as an amateur and now a researcher, and Dan grew up at archaeological digs and made that his career. Dani -- she prefers we call her that -- is here to be trained in her powers and in adjusting to her new gender in the modern world. Dani has some unusual powers that need our expert instructors. That is why you are more like her than most on campus; she has time traveled, though the mechanism is different. Some of her other powers are effectively like your time-warper abilities. Dan never married nor had any children -- another fact you share.”

I was shocked she’d brought that sad fact up, and found myself wiping a tear almost immediately. Mom so wanted to see a grandchild before she died, but us kids failed to fulfill that wish.

“I’m sorry to remind you, Joanie, but it’s important for you to understand Dani’s past. In some ways it parallels yours. She is one of the best in her field, and will be another crown jewel among Whateley’s outstanding staff.”

“So she’s here to offset the disaster that is me?” I said and laughed.

“Absolutely. She’s also looking for off campus housing with good office space, and a place to store her SUV, Farmer Brown.”

The toggle switches went ‘clickity-click’ in my mind, the tape reels spun, the punch cards … I’m a late 1957 model after all … but I had to be certain.

“You said she loves to sing … Ms. Carson, I think she’s the woman from my dreams, or nightmares,” I said excitedly.

“Nightmares, Joanie?”

“Bear with me a moment, Ms. Carson. Tell me if I’m right. Dani is an attractive woman with a slender, but not too slender, build and of average height. She has classic early Egyptian features and glorious black hair. Her eyes, though young and vibrant, are a window to a soul that has seen a century of happiness and pain. She has a personality and warmth of character that makes you want to be her friend. She’s spent so much of her life in the desert she likes her rooms and truck hot by any normal standards. She’s has a strong sense of duty to others; she’s the kind of person who will always offer you a lift or help someone in trouble. She has a wicked sense of humor and can’t sing to save her life -- or yours. There is a mysterious quality to her; I’m not certain what it is. It like she has been touched by the ages in some way, perhaps even by a higher power. I don’t know why I sensed that last bit, but I do. Perhaps what I sensed is a combination of her long life and the time travel?” I asked myself as much as Ms. Carson...

“It sounds as if you know more about her than I do.”

“It's not that I have made a study of her or anything, though I might have read one of *his* old articles in my Dad's National Geographics. I'm not trying to be funny, but really believe I met her in a dream -- at least I think I did. It was not a routine dream as I experienced everything in exacting detail. Ms Carson, my doctors said I might be a low level precog, but I have never been able to trigger it on demand. The images in this particular dream were so detailed I suspect it was a precognitive vision.

“It is possible, given your unusual warper gifts. I don’t know about Dani's singing from personal experience, yet,nor can I speak with authority about what people *see* in her eyes. I can say this, from what I've been able to learn, your *dream* describes her to a tee, Joanie.

“Though she has not yet been evaluated by Whateley’s medical staff, she has provided us with the MCO's preliminary description of her powers. In Whateley terms she’s a low to moderate level exemplar, a mid-level avatar, and has mid- to high-level TK powers. She has the power to manipulate time, though not quite as you do. When you get into time related powers, the lines between magic and physics get blurred.”

“Tell me about it, I'm practically the poster child. Sorry, please continue.”

“*AS* I was saying ... She can accelerate and reverse the flow of time within a limited area. She accelerates the aging of objects so they crumble to dust in seconds, or spark a fire from rapid oxidation. The effect appears as if an object has been moved far forward or back within its time line. Living objects are affected as well. She mentioned that her patroness can read and change the BIT of individuals. During Dani's travels, several adult males who were trying to stage a 'coup de etat' were changed from adults to infants -- one was even changed to a pubescent female,” replied Ms. Carson.

“She can change the age and sex of living beings? That’s dangerous! Misused, such power could kill,” I said.

“She assures me that BIT rewrite power is firmly in the hands of her ‘patroness’ and she cannot access it. She acted purely as a conduit for her ‘patroness’ in that instance. The rapid aging or catastrophic disordering of things is dangerous and she does have *access* to that power; that is why she is here. Dr. O’Neill is here to learn to control it and her TK. Her patroness is Ma'at, the Egyptian goddess of truth, justice, and order. She does not wish for Dani to do others harm and Dani is completely in accord with her patroness in this,” Ms. Carson assured me.

“I’m glad she feels that way. I would have a hard time with a power like that. The temptation to use it on rapists or other violent criminals would be awful. No one is qualified to judge another so harshly, no matter their crime. It’s hard enough for a jury of 12, judge and a courtroom full of lawyers and witnesses.

“I’d be terrified of controlling such power. It bothers me no end that my powers could be used to kill. My innocent seeming time stop could as easily be used to place someone in the path of a speeding truck as it was to save Melissa by taking her out from in front of one. Or what if my ‘freeze a can of soda in the air’ trick was done to a person’s heart or brain? That I even imagine these misuses disturbs me. I never want to be like that -- to hold the power of life and death in my hands. A moment’s uncontrolled anger could have horrific results. I sympathize with Dani’s position; she bears a heavy burden.”

“Since, as you say, she was in your dreams, was there anything else that stood out about her?” Ms. Carson wondered.

“It’s been something like a month since it happened, but the dream sticks in my memory. It was so vivid I thought I was awake. I suspected it was a precognitive vision; now I know. One thing stands out above all others from my dream. Remember, when I first came here, how you kidded me about having Sara Grobeschmidt-Taylor as my doctor? Dani may be the one person who can unseat her as Whateley’s all-time greatest prankster. Combine 97 years of hanging around grad students with powers granted by her ‘patroness’ and we’re all doomed!” I said, and then giggled.

“Don’t worry; I’ll organize a nice, respectable evening's entertainment. Given her academic status, I think the Crystal Hall is the best venue. Lots of room to mingle, eat, and dance, and it is an impressive structure. I’ll ask Mr. Lodgeman if any of his ballroom dance students would like to perform. I know this great little student band that would love the opportunity to play. I’m sure I can persuade them, I know their lead singer, intimately; I sleep with her every night,” I said, sort of straight faced except for the occasional, explosive giggling outburst.

“Now I’m worried. You *will* be dignified?” Ms. Carson asked.

“Me, Joanie, be disrespectful of my elders? Perish the thought. I wonder if my Dad can dig up that old Steve Martin LP of mine? My record producer can always send the sheet music. What was it, Steve Martin and the Toot Uncommons? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Tut_(song)

“Joanie, NO! Behave yourself, please?”

I walked away, my mind awash with possibilities. I sang softly to myself, no tune in particular. It was more like someone pushing the buttons on an old-fashioned car radio in rapid succession. ‘Walk like an Egyptian,” “Istanbul not Constantinople now it’s …”, “Midnight at the oasis, sing your camels to bed” … …”Don’t want no fancy funeral, just one like old king Tut…”

I was very happy. ~~Muwha-ha-ha-ha-!~~

The last few days of the semester are a bit of a blur. Between papers, exams, and helping my friends and a few classmates who had trouble, I had almost no free time. That got sucked up by practice for the BET recording. I managed to find some time to pass info on to Mariel so she could get Ms Carson’s assistance. The one thing that stands out in those hectic few days was Miki insisting on watching Meerkat Manor like it was almost a religious thing. So long as it kept her happy.

Oh, the laptop. Ms. Hartford checked it out and could find nothing wrong. So she inspected all of the staff laptops and PC’s and still found nothing though apparently something suspicious going on but there was no solid proof; that was as much as she would tell any of us. That had her in a bad mood; somebody had managed to get past her security systems, and she was pissed. I don't want to be around when she catches the fool; there will be blood. Probably some kid on campus trying to out do Mystor's Barbie doll clothing trick on me, I hope. The idea it might have been some outside group trying to track me down worries me.

* * * *

June 01, 2007

I got up bright and early Friday morning. Okay, WHO’S laughing Dear d/j/w? I did, I really did. I AM a morning girl. I was eager to take a trip and well … there was Eric and the fun we could have, *within certain, reasonable, preset parameters*. Yes, I’m misquoting the mechanoid Kryten from Red Dwarf, but the line applied. This would be the BIG test -- could we be girlfriend and boyfriend without sliding inevitably into...?

Yes, I DO want to slide his tab A into my slot B, so to speak, but we have to be patient. I WILL be patient; I WILL be faithful; I WILL kill him, if he ever cheats on me! Whoa, where did that come from? I would be upset and disappointed, but I would understand. Anyway Mel would kill him for me. Am I that possessive? Am I that obsessed about a boy and his dick? You bet your ass! Okay, I promise to be gracious if he falls out of love or finds my celebrity off putting. But I WILL also promise to make his eighteenth birthday so *memorable* he wouldn’t stray from me if the entire US Junior Miss Pageant stripped naked, tied him to a bed and tried to have their wicked way with him. Hey, I WAS a guy for 47 years; I know what they like. They say ~~Hum, those *theys* again.~~ that all is fair in love and war. Well, I’m taking no prisoners and giving no quarter … with respect to love. Zero hour is midnight the morning of his eighteenth birthday … I need yet another cold shower and a less vivid imagination.

I went for my morning run, and the gang was waiting.

“Joanie, do you have to go? Some of us are stuck here.”

“Leah, I know, and I’m sorry. Pinkie, you know I’d love to take you along, but it’s not for long. I’ll try to stop by before I leave for Wales, plus I’m counting on you ladies, notice I did not say girls, to take care of George, Gracie, Miki and mongooses to be named later. You all have my instructions for their care and feeding?” They all nodded, as they all wanted to help.

“Okay, but we’ll miss you.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re suffering,” I giggled. “Keep an eye on the farm and take advantage of it if you like. You have my permission to go there anytime, just let Whateley Administration or Security know first. And don't pick ALL the wildflowers, I'd rather they stay in the ground. But if you want to start a garden of any kind, sunbathe, hike, or whatever, it's okay with me. I was thinking of planting berry plants along the outer fence line for the wildlife and us. Give it some thought, but have fun; you've earned it. Ghod, I'm gonna miss you.” We hugged each other and headed off to shower and dress.

* * * *

We met one last time at breakfast.

“Joanie, you were so busy this week I didn’t get a chance to tell you. The This Old House People have offered to set up a recording studio in your pole barn. They say it could be done with prefab panels quick and easy.”

“That’s nice, but it wasn’t a high priority for me. The homes and my animal shed were the priorities, not a studio, Lisa.”

“We were thinking, since most of us are staying for summer session and the breaks, why not have our own practice space? We were lucky to get rehearsal space during spring academic session, and the summer is when Operations paints and everything.”

“What about your instruments, power, heating and cooling and … How are you going to move a vibraphone or a piano back and forth?” How would Lisa answer this one?

“We figured, um, the big items could stay there permanently. Operations says they can have sound proof panels, HVAC, power and a security system in place in a few days to a week, tops. They think they can install a small bathroom too.”

“And a galley kitchen for snacks and cold soda, I suppose?”

“With a microwave, compact refrigerator/freezer and a table top pizza oven. We just HAVE to have a tabletop pizza oven.”

Lisa had researched this in some depth, sneaky girl. But I now knew her fatal weakness, pizza, mua-ha-ha-ha! That was my Evil MastermindTM laugh number seventeen. The Lady Lighting comics had a bunch of evil laughs numbered and cataloged so I was justified in mine.

“And where would we get a piano, drum sets and the like? Whateley isn’t gonna’ just give them away and serious instruments cost serious money … as if I didn’t know where this is leading. Sorry, didn’t mean to say that last bit out loud, never mind.”

“But we’ll be ever so good to the animals and be good girls and basically suck up to you like crazy, p-u-leeese!” they chorused.

“All of you at once? That’s vicious! I know when I’m beaten; I’m impressed, by the way. Work out with Mr. King and Operations what you all need to equip it, including recording and playback equipment. If we don’t know how we are playing, it’s hard to get better. Have them bill me, but keep it within reason -- no cathedral size pipe organs for one.”

“Spoilsport!”

“I heard that, Pinky.”

* * * *

Suzy and I had a pleasant drive to Boston and the Amtrak station to catch the Lakeshore Limited to Chicago. The weather was mild, and the company sublime. We even drove with the windows down, enjoying the spring air. Suzy told me stories about her parents. I learned things I never knew about my cousin Christine, deep dark secrets only a loving daughter would know. Christine would pay, bru-ha-ha-ha!

“I promise to never use this knowledge to blackmail my dear cousin, but embarrass her? Oh yes!”

Suzy laughed then turned to ask me a question. “Explain again why we are taking the train in your truck instead of just driving or flying out?”

“It’s an Autotrain. It's a lot like the original one from DC to Sanford, Florida. It saves gas, and they hope it will boost ridership -- no need to get a rental car or a taxi at your destination. The truck will ride securely in a special rail car while we ride, sleep and dine in comfort in the train. I came to Whateley by train the first time with my motorcycle in the baggage car. I liked it, and this way we can enjoy the sights and not worry. I like to drive, but that is a long one. This way we can watch the scenery or pursue other *interests* and not have to worry about a thing. Maybe you’ll meet some handsome man and have a wild, brief fling. I hear doing it on a train is the best -- all that rocking motion I guess.”

She gave me a dirty look. We were stopped at a light at the moment; I’m not a fool. Then we giggled, recovering only when the vehicles behind us politely reminded us that the light had been green for some time now. The language used lacked a certain civility.

“Same to you, *&@#$)&^%!!!”

“Suzy! You and I need to have a talk. Where did you learn that … No, don’t tell me!”

* * * *

A short while later, we were at Boston South station and on the train. We even had a berth for the night where we secured our luggage. We found a pair of facing seats in the upper level of our coach and sat down.

“Remember your ticket number. They’ll call us to eat later, but if you want a snack or something, let me know. Suzy, are you okay traveling back to school with your parents?”

“It will be fun, and your friends in MSG promised us an escort all the way, so no sweat. Are you visiting Grandma and Grandpa, I mean your aunt and uncle, too?”

I was surprised at her bluntness, but we were alone for the moment so it was okay. “I’d like to, but I don’t want to put them at risk. I know them; they are good people, but it would hurt too much if they rejected me … I’d rather not risk it.”

People started filing into the car, and we began to get looks. Here were two unescorted and apparently single young women. The younger woman was attractive, and the slightly older one was a bona-fied hottie, um, me. The sharks began to circle. The train started moving, and so did the young, and a few not so young, men.

“I see you ladies are alone. I’ve been on the train before and would love to show you two the sights.” The college-age man spoke in an overly suave, self-assured style, and I was not interested in the least. I was looking out the window, and he was behind me, so he didn’t see my face. Suzy showed equally good taste and ignored him. He got bolder. “If you are worried about going out with a stranger, I’m amenable to entertaining both of you fine ladies.”

Suzy couldn’t contain herself. “My friend here already is seeing someone; she’s on her way to visit him, in fact. And I have a boyfriend back at school. He’s younger, fitter, better looking and kisses divinely. Why would I want to risk that?”

“You don’t know what you are missing.” His voice began to grate.

“My dear friend has said no. A gentleman would excuse himself at this point, but you seem to not be paying attention,” I said, my face still turned to the window.

I stood up and turned to face him. In my stocking feet, I was taller than him by several inches. With my boots, I towered over him. We were eyes to boobs, so to speak. He realized his predicament and was speechless -- a wise move on his part.

“You’ve overstayed your welcome; time to find greener pastures, *stud*.”

He walked off dejected; the other young men stared at me and my … well they stared at all of me, but more at some parts than others.

“You're, I mean … “

“My god, it’s really her … I …”

“I knew she was *big*, but look at the size of those.”

When they saw the anger on my face, they scuttled off. Suzy noticed and laughed.

“Suzy, it worked didn’t it?” I bowed to the remaining passengers and got applause.

* * * *

“Tickets, please!”

We got our tickets out and waited for the conductor.

“Joanie!”

“Yes?” I didn’t recognize her.

“I’m sorry, I’m Mary; you sent a nice present to my cousin last year. She works the Lake Shore Limited as a Conductress.”

“Oh, the lady who woke me up and saved my ass from going to the wrong destination when the ticket agent messed up my berth assignment. How is she?”

“She’s taking some vacation time. I’m filling in for her from another AMTRAK route, I usually work the Capitol Limited. She said if I ever had you on my train, to treat you special.”

“You don’t need to. All I ask is my friend and I have a peaceful trip, so not too many autograph seekers.”

“Celebrity, what celebrity?”

“Mary, I think I love you.”

* * * *

We were called to lunch in the dining car. We looked at the selections and ordered the trout. They played a wide variety of music over the sound system from oldies to top 40 formats. I was half-afraid I would hear one of mine and I was mildly disappointed when I did not. I must have more of an ego than I thought but then I do like meeting my fans, especially the kids.

A word of explanation is in order. It’s nearing a year since my mutation, a few months less than that since I rescued Mel but I’m not fully comfortable with my celebrity status, a good thing too. The last thing I want is to become a prima donna. Fortunately my mind did its usual thing and the strangest thought bubbled to the surface.

“Just because we are eating trout, don’t use that as an excuse to seduce an older man. This is not North by Northwest, and you are not Eva Marie Saint.”

“I was thinking more Silverstreak or maybe Throw Momma from the Train, but okay ... mommy.”

“I’ll get you for that!”

* * * *

To be continued, and soon, honest!
No, I mean it.

Okay, Jen Stevens wasn't in this chapter but she was until I broke it into two chapters. Next chapter for sure!

The train trip continues. A VIP calls Joanie's private cell, providing her with multiple thrills. Joanie glimpses motherhood, in more than one way, her reaction surprises her. Suzy and Joanie have a happy homecoming, Joanie’s tusch stops traffic. Joanie travels to Iowa, gives Eric an ultimatum, “Now get those clothes off, and you’d better be up for it.”

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?

P.S. Never trust sneaky authors and their teasers.

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 Sapphire's Place,

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html), The Crystal Hall, ( http://www.crystalhall.org), 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/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Foghorn Leghorn? You chickened out on me for the last time. This time it’s personal, “Oh, Colonel Sanders?” (Great. Now I'm getting 'cheep' shots ... Doo-dah! Doo-dah!)

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, 2005-2008.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Jennifer Marie Stevens comes courtesy of Bob Arnold. Really, she’s in this chapter, honest. As to mixing the Zapped and Whateley universes, I have no problems with it. Bob has no problems. This is fan fic and if it still worries you, think of this as this an alternative universe. I mean, it worked for Star Trek TM so...

Chapter 11, it really is, honest: The Homecoming

Various locations in and between Boston Massachusetts, Wisconsin and Iowa, June 01-02, 2007

June 01, 2007

* * * *
In my last entry to this rambling diary/journal/whatever of mine, Suzy and I were on the Lake Shore Limited autotrain waiting for our lunch. I wrote …

‘To be continued, and soon, honest!
No, I mean it.’

Well, I did come back. So there. — Sticks out tongue defiantly though in my case it looks rather sexy or so others tell me..–

* * * *

Our silliness was interrupted by my cell phone. Yes, I was considerate and had it on vibrate. No, I did not wear it positioned to provide cheap thrills when it went off, as temping as it might be to a sadly celibate girl.

“Who is calling me now? I’d better get it. It is my private number.”

“Hello, this is Joanie, who may I help you? Sorry I mean how may I help you?” I giggled. Okay, it was positioned *near* that part of my body when it rang. It was purely by accident I had laid my purse across my lap … I might do that again, oooh.

“You’re in a really good mood, Joanie. Do you have a few minutes? It’s Jen, Jennifer Stevens.”

“Who is it, Joanie?”

“Just some pesky woman, Suzy; I’ll get rid of her.” I said so Jen would overhear. We both giggled, and I heard Jen laugh.

“One of your friends, I presume?”

“Her name is Suzy. We met earlier this year while swimming.”

“Swimming?”

I handed the phone to Suzy. I mouthed to her, “It’s Jennifer Stevens, the actress. Play along with me.”

“Yeah, we met swimming in Lake Wisconsin. Word of advice, don’t swim in a northern lake in early April; it’s freezing. So why are you pestering my friend, bay-ich?” Oh, Suzy was good at this. We broke into giggles and so did Jen.

“I see Joanie has been corrupting another of America’s youth. Wait … Suzy? So you and Joanie met while swimming in Lake Wisconsin in early April? Ah! You’re the girl Joanie saved off of that ferryboat. Put your friend back on, I need to ask her something.”

“Okay, but only if you are nice to her; Joanie is my best friend. Understand?”

“I promise, blonde’s honor!” Jen did this ditzy giggle; my ear was near the cell so I heard it.

“Joanie, she sounds just like you.”

“I do NOT sound like that! I am so not like some totally mindless sex crazy, bimb ... bimb … Fur sure I am not like that!”

“Joanie, dear, as much as I am enjoying your antics, I do have a serious proposition.”

“All right, Jen, but I’m on vacation and you’re spoiling my fun.” I giggled again, and Jen laughed in return.

“I’m calling from New Mexico, and I have a proposition for you … What, no smart-aleck remark?”

“You asked for serious, you’ve got it. When a woman, or anyone with your clout calls, it’s important. I’m listening.”

“When we met in Boston, I left right afterward for New Mexico to shoot my latest adventure film.”

“The entertainment press had something on that; it sounds like one of those films Oscar will ignore, except for *technical* awards, but the box-office will go crazy over.”

“Exactly. I play an Indiana Jones/Laura Croft type and become involved in the discovery and preservation of an ancient sacred ceremonial site. The story the screenplay largely follows is based on the real story of an archaeological find and some illegal activities that could have destroyed it if not for several remarkable people.”

“Ah, so we’re talking grave robbing, artifact smuggling and the like with lots of T & A thrown in -- much of it your delectable body, Jen?”

“I prefer LMC -- Legs, Midriff and Cleavage. I’m at best a fair singer and a so-so actress, but I can bare skin with the best. Throw in some romance and some mystic mumbo-jumbo and you have it.

“Lots of top-notch special effects and some outstanding natural scenery don’t hurt either. Gone with the Wind it ain’t, but it looks like a box office winner whatever the critics' reaction. Mind you, I bare only so much skin, I don’t do naked … Sorry I didn’t mean to insult you, Joanie.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Maybe at some level I felt insulted; though I was sure she didn’t mean it that way.

“I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I, with the comment about nudity? You seem so quiet.” I heard the concern in her voice.

I laughed. “I’m not insulted, Jen. I only did the Playboy stuff to help the school and to have the last laugh on the staffer who submitted my application to pose as a joke.”

“I understand why you did it, pose for Playboy, Joanie … What I mean is I’m personally not comfortable being naked in a film or any form of entertainment. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my body, far from it. I simply believe that too often nudity is used to cover-up for a poor script or worse. I’m not implying it can’t ever be justified artistically or on socio/political grounds. It’s simply not *me*.

“It’s not *me* either, usually,” I snickered, “but one time and for the school scholarship fund, why not?

“You really feel this good about the film, Jen?”

“I have every confidence in its success. The same college student who wrote the Erin Flynn episode about a murder at a college wrote this one and is penning another Erin Flynn I may guest star in as myself.”

“Must be someone special to be that good so young. I’ve heard the creator/producer of Erin Flynn is very selective in choosing scripts.”

“The writer is very special and something of an adoptive sister of mine. The young woman has a great talent, and I am happy this will promote her career. Understand, I would not have used her story unless it was good, Joanie. I called because filming is winding down. Things have gone very well. We have a few scenes to finish, and I’d like to offer you a role.”

“Me? A cameo in your blockbuster? I’m flattered, but I’ve never acted. Doctor Who will be my first, and likely my last-ever, acting job.”

“Joanie, don’t lie to an expert. I pulled a few favors. I have copies of your work for NOVA and your audition with David Tenant for Doctor Who. You have real potential, and it’s not just because the camera loves you.”

“The only reason the camera *loves* me is I have a pretty face, I’m tall and have tits the size of Cleveland.”

“Hardly Cleveland, more like Texas, but that is not the point. The point is I think you would boost the popularity of my film. I am particular about *the business*. I may do mostly fluff material, but it's always done with class and it's entertaining; the audience gets full value for their money. Ask your Warners producer, he’ll tell you true. Ask the host of that *other* late night show.”

“Oh, you mean Jay.” Notice I had not pounced on Jen’s unfortunate double use of *point*, talk about your double-entendre …’ and I have the pair of *entendre’s* to do it’. Read that in a Groucho voice and its much funnier. I was so proud I resisted; I can be a good girl when I want to.

“Yes.” Jen faked a cough. I tried hard not to laugh ... I failed. “It’s a great opportunity and would only take a day or two. You said you’re on vacation, Joanie; why not spend part of it out here? We’re at this great resort in the high desert canyon country. They have a natural hot spring soaking pool, mud baths, wildlife trails, and food to die for. You’d love it. I built a guest cabin here just for that reason, and so has Alexis Eden, the star of Erin Flynn. I could get you into the real Anasazi site that inspired the movie.”

“You’re offering all of this to persuade me to appear on Around Midnight Jen?”

“There is that too, Joanie. I find the better I know someone, the better we are on the show.”

“Can’t argue with that, Jen, But…”

“Oh-oh, this sounds bad.”

“I have to get Suzy to her grandparent’s house in Milwaukee tomorrow to a secure meeting with her parents. My friends at MSG are providing protection, but the people who artificially triggered her mutation are still at large and dangerous. That was why I was in Hawaii for Leah; the same thing happened to her and to two others I know of....”

“See Suzy off safely, and then fly out. I can get you a good, discreet charter. My people are very security conscious,” Jen interrupted.

“... then I’m off to visit friends in Madison and Des Moines … very close friends.”

“Ah, the wannabe boyfriend is not so much a *wanna* as an *is*?”

“It’s as I told Ms Carson, ‘Damn straight, Skippy.’ Or more precisely, it’s as *is* as the law and good sense allow. I’d appreciate it if you kept our budding romance a strict secret, Jen.”

“I understand; your private life is just that, private. I’ve fought hard to keep mine that way.”

“Jen, thanks. I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from. I’m very fond of Eric and would never want to hurt him … Um, you never heard that name.”

“What name … Joanie, is it?”

“Exactly,” I giggled. “Beyond that, I love the family, and their mom, Babs, is pregnant. I’m her personal cheerleading squad. I owe it to them to help out.”

“It could be done after the main filming is finished. We’re bound to re-shoot some scenes, possibly well into June. A way could be found to work you in after the fact. That’s why editors and special effects people are paid so well. You worked in front of a *green screen* for much of your NOVA work, so it would be nothing new to you.”

“Late June is Wales and a busy two weeks filming so that’s out, period. As to the first half of June … I wish I could. It would be great fun, but I cannot see how I could swing it and not hurt my dearest friends. I’m not saying no, but I doubt it can be done. Plus, once the Doctor Who episodes are broadcast, my acting career will be dead.”

“I seriously doubt that, Joanie. Here’s a thought: you could consider an appearance in my film as practice for Doctor Who , just absent the big blue box and the BBC gravel pits”

“You ARE a geeky girl, Jen. I agree it would be fun and an education for me, but I can’t see it working out.”

“Well, I tried; you still have my private number?”

“You bet. If I get a free day, I’ll call you. I am thinking seriously about appearing on Around Midnight during the New York State Fair run. Thanks for calling. Those added little polite details do impress me.”

“It’s the way I am. Treat people the way you want to be treated.”

“Jen, if I do come to Syracuse, I have this group of close friends at school. You’ve already met two, Pinky and Suzy. Could they come and see the show, maybe from backstage? They are clever kids and would appreciate seeing what goes into producing a show. There are nine of us, including myself.”

“Consider it done, Joanie. Can we agree to a date?”

“Let’s talk in July after summer school has settled in -- sometime after the fourth.”

“You have a deal. The offer to appear in one of my films stands, Joanie. I’m serious; if you want to pursue acting, I can help. I work with Wayne Zachery; he produces TV dramas and films in addition to Around Midnight. I know good people at Mouse World, and I am in negotiations to do a film with Richard Thorn. There’s a man who knows how to keep his audience happy. I’d bet any of these people would jump at a chance to use you.”

“I’ll think about it. And Jen, don’t feed me straight lines like that last one -- ‘jump at a chance to *use* you.’ I barely stopped myself. Please do call me occasionally. I find a good whack on the head with a 2-by-4 does wonders to get my attention.”

“Oh, Joanie dear, that shouldn’t be a problem. Speaking of 2-by-4’s, the July issue of Playboy is out. Believe me, if you weren’t already a hot commodity, that issue alone would make you one. You will get a lot of offers, and soon. Talk to someone you trust before accepting any. Your Warners producer is respected in the business; ask him. Feel free to ask my advice. Anything I’m not qualified to handle, Wayne's people will gladly do for you, I promise. There are a lot of sleazy people out there.”

“They don’t know me v-very well, hee hee hee hee hee!”

“Bugs?”

“My personal hero. Don’t worry, I may look naíve but am not stu …stu … stu … a dumb blonde.” I giggled. “That would be like totally … so not kewl, yah know?”

“Ewh! That’s frighting how well you do that. You’re almost a bad as me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Jen. I need to go, they’re bringing our lunch. It’s trout. I half expect to see Cary Grant and James Mason.”

“Don’t take that bus out of Chcago and get off at Prairie Stop.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for cropdusters, and no way am I getting near Mount Rushmore. Thanks for calling; I mean it.”

* * * *

Suzy and I concentrated on our meal, and soon were fed and content. Our previous spot on the upper level of our coach was taken, but we found acceptable seating next to a young family with several children.

This one lttle girl, the oldest child, keep sneaking peeks at me. By little girl, I meant she couldn’t have been more than five.Her siblings were a toddler, a boy I think, and a baby a few months old at most. “Mommy, look.”

“Look at what, hon?”

“Look Mommy! It ‘portant.”

“So what am I supposed to look at?” Mom clearly recognized me but was playing with her child.

“Mommy, her!” The girl pointed at me and sounded frustrated.

“It’s rude to point at people, Di.”

“But Mommy!” Di was stressing out.

The mother turned to me. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but my daughter Diana thinks you’re somebody famous and has to meet you. I imagine you value your privacy, Ms. Brown. I couldn't help but recognize you, too. I’m sorry, for both of us,”

“Why should you be? I got excited at all sorts of things, at that age. Kids are naturally curious, so I don't mind. You asked nicely, too; it's okay. I have to ask, Diana as in the late …?”

“I thought she was so elegant, when I was a little girl. I suspect, when it’s her turn, her first daughter will be named Joan.”

“You're kidding?”

“The truth.”

“Joanie, put the kid out of her misery.”

“Right, Suzy.”

“Do you want to sit next to me, Diana, if your mommy says it’s okay?”

Diana waited, staring at her mommy.

“Oh, alright, but don’t be a pes …”

I was instantly engulfed in Diana. And I thought Mel was a tad enthusastic!

“You so pretty, like the Little Mermaid. Ah … you seen The Little Mermaid, Joanie?” She was hesitant. I guess I intimidated her.

~~Lord, another kid bites the dust courtesy of Mouse World and all those animated films. But then I saw Bambi at four and it warped my brrrain.~~ I chuckled quietly at the thought.

“I’ve seen most of it. “Under the Sea” is a catchy tune. I look like Ariel?”

“Yeah.-My-friend-Madison-says-you-look-like-Barbie.” The *dam* broke and the words poured out.

“Is Barbie a friend of yours or a friend’s older sister?”

Dianna giggled. “No,-Barbie-the-doll …a-Barbie-doll.” She said confidently. “You-sing-pretty. Momma-likes-you-too-she-listens-everyday.”

“You’re a fan?”

The mom nodded.

This prompted Diana to tell me all about her home and her mom and her baby brother, her kittycat and … You get the picture. Fortunately at her age, the energy reserves ran down fast. She leaned into me as she tired, gently propping herself up with shoulder against me at first.

“Are you okay, Diana? Want to sit with your mom?”

“No. I am a little tired. I be okay… Where you get such pretty — yawn — clothes? I like your hair.”

I stroked her head softly, her hair was like the finest silk. “Your hair is so soft and pretty, Diana. You must take good care of it,huh?”

She nodded back at me, her eyes half closed and a smile on her face. Her *motor* was winding down fast, yet she was supremly happy.

After ten minutes of non-stop questioning, Diana fell asleep in my lap.
She lay with my left arm wrapped around her like a blanket, her head cradled between my arm and the bottom of my left breast.

“I can pick her up, Joanie.”

I didn’t have the heart to disturb her, and I didn’t want to. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. She’s quite a sweet girl.”

It felt odd yet satisfing somehow. I thought she was the most precious thing and that thought didn’t disturb me in the least. Eventually I nodded off.

* * * *

I don't recall much, other than I felt contented. The next thing I remember was Suzy gently waking me as the mom, Linda, detached Diana from me saying, “That was sweet of you. Di will talk of this for months. You made her very happy. I imagine you may want to eat; they just called your numbers, or so Suzy here informed me.”

“It was my pleasure. You have a darling daughter. If the rest of your children turn out like her you will be a lucky woman.”

Suzy and I hurried off to the dining car and a much appreciated dinner. I had some sort of meatpie, and Suzy had a burger with the works. We split a basket of onion rings. Real healthy. The sun had started to set, and the land took on a surreal aspect.

“Joanie, can we walk the train? I want to see all of it at least once.”

“A walk will do us good,” I agreed. I think she suggested it so I wouldn’t get engulfed by the Di-monster.

“And by the time we get back Diana will be in bed with any luck.”

“Suzy, that’s Di-abolical” We giggled. I felt a little sad, but why?

Suzy snickered, as we walked.

“What gives?”

“Nothing.”

“Suzy, you’re a terrible liar. What’s going on here?”

“We’re going for a walk?”

“Suzy!”

"Okay, it’s … when Diana fell asleep in your lap, and you nodded off, the expression on your face was so sweet. It was like one of those Madonna and child paintings; you had a look of absolute contentment. It could have been a cover for a woman’s magazine or an Ivory Snow box.”

“I do remember feeling strangely happy with her on my lap.”

“Good, you won’t mind that I shot a few photos, Joanie.”

“Suzy, Diana is someone else’s child. You could get in trouble.”

“I got her mom’s permission. I took some with her camera, too, so Diana will have a memento.”

“Okay, but be careful; some people don’t like it when you take their picture. In big public areas it’s one thing, but up close … And thanks, I think I’d like to see it”

“Somebody wants to be a mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!” She sang the last bit like a school kid teasing another. You know, 'na, na-na, na-na, na'!

“Yeah, right,” I muttered, but deep down inside …

Sometimes *I* scare myself.

* * * *

We walked though the various coaches forward, then back to the club car at the tail of the train. They had a small bar, places for entertainment, card playing tables, a few arcade/video games and the like. They carded everyone, but we only ordered sodas to be safe. A four-person combo was setting up as we sat down: a male guitarist, keyboard player and percussionist and a female guitarist/singer. They were pretty good, performing old jazz classics -- mostly forties and fifties stuff. They played a little oldies rock-and-roll and some country, but jazz was nearest to their hearts. It was a nice way to let our food settle and simply relax.

“They’re good, and the lady's very good; not as good as you, but still.”

“Any requests?” the singer asked.

“Yes,” Suzy called out. “My friend likes all kinds of music, but is particualry fond of songs with a lot of emotion in them. Do you know 'Crying' or 'Unchained Melody'?”

“You don’t ask for much, do you? They are lovely songs, but it’s hard to do them justice with such a small band.”

“I’ll be right back!”

They went and did another request, as I tore after Suzy. I caught up with her as she was coming back with my Les Paul and amp.

“Are you nuts?”

“Joanie, you know you want to sing. Let's show off for the people; it will be fun.”

* * * *

That girl will get into a lot of trouble someday with her powers of persuasion -- normal human powers, not mutant. Though since she can copy other's powers ... I wonder? Nah! We got back to the club car, and she walked right up to the singer.

“Told you I’d be back; I had to get my friend's guitar and amp. We play together in a band in school. She’s very good.”

“That’s nice.” The singer decided to play along, figuratively speaking. “What’s her name?”

I stepped forward. “I’m Joan, but you can call me Joanie.”

“Eek!”

-- *Thud!*--

Despite the awkward start -- a few cuts and scrapes, but no major injuries from her faint -- the evening turned out well. Suzy and I did several songs with them, and it sounded nice. We turned into bed early to be fully rested for tomorrow, the day we would drive to my aunt and uncle's; then I’d drive on alone to Iowa. I was worried something would go terribly wrong tomorrow, but managed to sleep satsifactorally. I had two dreams that night that were odd, seriously odd. One was naughty and … that rocking motion really does help you sleep, though it did make me dream of Eric and I … but then what doesn’t?

The other dream was of that summer day in a park. I’d had it before, but it was more detailed this time. There was Eric -- I think it was him -- but he was older, in his twenties, maybe thirty tops, and he looked … I’m drooling thinking of him. He was flipping burgers on a portable grill as two identical, tall, redheaded high-school girls helped him. A boy-girl pair of maybe four-year-olds played near me in a sandbox as several animals watched us. I’d thought they were cats when I dreamt this earlier but they were clearly mongooses. Then I saw myself, eight, maybe nine months pregnant and smiling. I don’t remember anymore.
~~But if Eric is thirty and our oldest kids are in high school, why am I not in prison?~~
This dream is really beginning to worry me.

* * *

Saturday June 02, 2007

We made excellent time on the Lakeshore Limited auto-train from Boston to Chicago. The Hiawatha was not set up as an auto-train — it is primarily a commuter line connecting downtown Chicago to downtown Milwaukee -- so we drove the 90 miles to Milwaukee. The Lakeshore Limited was not an Auto-Train when I left Chicago back in December on my trip to Whateley; they added that when the gas prices shot up … again. Having taken the overnight train, and it being the weekend, the Chicago traffic was not as daunting as say a Friday rush-hour, thankfully. Driving my  ¾ ton blast resistant crew cab, I was less concerned than driving in Chicago on my grandfather's Harley last December, though I still was not happy with the congestion. I would never make it as a commuter in LA or some other city with serious traffic problems — though maybe in an M1 Abrams tank … fully armed.

I do know Suzy and I got some strange looks from our fellow drivers. I believe it came down to a combination of “Did you see who was driving that truck? Damn, I swear it was that Joanie, the sexy singer,” and it being a hot day. It was already 80 and humid at 8 o’clock, so Suzy and I were not wearing a lot.

She was in this daring halter top and shorts combo with built-in undergarments. They were practical and suited her build. My cuz’ is no slouch in the breast department, but then neither am I. I was in a tight-fitting, man’s-style sleeveless *A* undershirt -- i.e.., a wife-beater -- and jogging shorts. For practicality, we both wore tennis shoes … and bras, I might add, hers being built-in as I said earlier. I was sorely tempted to skip the bra, but with my *sensitive* assets, um, ah … Let’s say that would not be advisable. The soft, seamless Lycra bra I chose offered support, was cool enough, and matched my panties. We both looked great. And it concealed my nipples, mostly. I wanted to look sharp, not induce heart attacks.

I amaze myself with how comfortable I am in showing skin in public. You might think that as an ex-man I would be conservative in my dress. I know how men react to women in sexy outfits and what they think. Frankly, I don’t care. I dress for me and for comfort. If it’s attractive, great, if it is not, who cares? I’m young — that’s an understatement — and attractive — ditto — so why not dress the part? I didn’t think Suzy’s mom would complain how we were attired. We weren’t dressed any wilder than most of the girls we saw that day.

Once on the toll-way, we made good time heading out of the city. At the state line, it changed over to freeway. In less than two hours after departing from the train station, we were in Milwaukee County. I drove to my dad’s home first, but he was out. We used the bathroom, left him a note, and drove on to my aunt and uncle's home in Glendale. I turned onto their dead end street, passing by my cousin’s -- formerly my uncle’s — service station. I pulled into their drive, let Suzy out and handed out her travel bag.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I don’t think I could stand to see them and not be able to tell them who I am -- I mean who I was. You have a great time with your family, Suzy. I’ll wait until you’re safely in the house then go. Your mom and dad said they would return you to Whateley on their own. You should be safe; remember MSG is keeping an eye on them. You have MSG’s emergency number in your cell?”

“It’s on speed dial, Joanie. I’ll be fine, but are you sure? Mom and Dad would love to see you, and I’m sure Grandma and Grandpa will want to see you.”

“I’m too much of a risk for them. Take care.”

Suzy walked to the door of the 60’s ranch house and rang the bell. Moments later the door opened, and I heard the happy sounds of family reuniting. I prepared to back out and leave when Christine — my cousin and Suzy’s mom — walked out of the house and straight to my driver’s door. Christine’s hair was graying, and she had a modest middle age spread, but she remained an attractive, confident woman in my eyes.

“What is this nonsense about you not coming in, Joanie? My mom and dad are very old; they won’t live forever. They miss their nephew, but I’m sure they would love their grandchild’s savior and good friend.”

“I don’t think I could stand it.”

“Please? For me? Dad calls me often, and he’s said many times he wishes he could meet the brave woman who saved his granddaughter. You would make him and me very happy, Cousin.” She finished and half dragged, half pushed me to the house. She’s a lot stronger than she looks for a woman nearing sixty.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet someone. She is one of Suzy’s teachers and one of her best friends. I met her hours after she rescued my Suzy, and she’s the just the nicest, most unassuming person I’ve ever met. Mom, Dad, this is Joan, or Joanie as she prefers." Christine finished and I stepped around from behind her. It would be more accurate to say she moved around and behind me. I was nervous and ashamed. How could I see them after lying about myself? I saw my aunt and uncle and fought to hold back my tears. I had to look away from them. ~~This is a mistake.~~

My elderly uncle stood up and placed a hand under my downcast face, raising it gently. Looking me in the eyes he spoke, “I have wanted to meet you ever since I heard of what you did for my granddaughter. I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay, Joanie. Bless you.” He grabbed me in a strong bear hug, not easy for him in his mid-eighties and with two artificial hip-joints.

“T-thanks.” My eyes were watering, and I was shaking.

“Joanie, come here please.” It was my aunt, Dad’s older sister. I turned to her and knelt next to her chair, almost collapsing from the shakes. “I don’t know what to say to you, dear, after you, a total stranger, risked your life to save my granddaughter. And it’s not the first time you’ve done something like this. I remember seeing you rescue that girl from a busy highway. I couldn’t love you more than if you were my own child.” She put her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.

~~Ghod, no!~~ I started sniffling. I didn’t know what to do; I was going into shock.

“Why are you crying? Is something wrong, Joanie?” I couldn’t stop my tears. I could barely think.

“I know what’s wrong, Grandma; she’s overwhelmed, because she hasn’t seen you in over a year and was afraid she never would again.”

“Suzy, No!” Christine yelled. I was too out of it to do anything; all I could do was tremble and cry.

“No, Mom. Grandma and Grandpa deserve to know. Grandma, Grandpa, Joanie is not just my best friend, she’s your niece.”

“N-no!” I tried to get up and leave, but my legs wouldn’t support me. I collapsed in a heap at the side of my aunt’s chair.

“She’s our niece? How?” Grandma asked.

I felt a pair of arms wrap around me. It was Suzy.

“We stopped by Joanie’s dad’s home in Wauwatosa, but he was out.”

Grandma gasped when Suzy gave them the final piece of the puzzle.

“Joanie … Joan used to be his son.”

“John?”

I nodded, and the dam broke; I lost it. I collapsed in Suzy’s arms, sobbing. My aunt had said the one word I most feared, yet most wanted to hear. I cried until it hurt. I cried, but I had no tears to shed; only slowly did the hugs and gentle words from my extended family break through to me. It was some time before I could look at them and not feel overwhelmed.

“Joanie, it just struck me; you look so much like your mother when she first dated your father. I can see her in your face. That’s all the proof I need that you are her child. Why didn’t you see us after your mutation? We would have understood. Man or girl, you are still family -- my pretty and brave niece,” my aunt said as she held my hand.

I’d calmed enough to talk. “I wanted to, but when I learned what my powers were, I feared for your safety. Once I was outed to the press, I thought it was impossible to ever see you again. You saw the news; people kidnapped me because others wanted to discover my secrets. They took me at gunpoint from the middle of a huge crowd. What if someone tried that and I was with you? After those criminal experimenters triggered Suzy’s mutation, my friends at MSG put you under continuous protection as a precaution. They are the mutant supers group in Madison who helped me after my mutation. There is someone out there now keeping you safe. The people who did this to Suzy are dangerous; they’ve done it to others. Excuse me.”

I dialed my private cell, and soon our guardian angel answered.

“This is the Kid, I’m on duty. This had better be important.”

“It’s Joanie, *Bog-fruit boy*; I’m trying to reassure my relatives. I'll be just a moment and thanks, I owe you.” I muted the phone.

I turned towards my *lost* aunt and uncle “One of my friends is monitoring your house as well as my cousins’ homes in the neighborhood. He’s on top of your son’s service station under camouflage.”

I spoke into my phone again. “Kid, Joanie here. Sorry I put you on hold. I’m visiting Suzy’s grandparent’s You keep them safe, or I’ll tell Red you planted micro-cameras in the nurses’ showers and are selling the DVD’s to adult book stores.”

“Joanie, she’ll rip my privates off and shove them down my throat!”

“You know she’s a pussycat, Kid. As to little old me, I’d worry if I was you. These folks are special to me; you do your best, hear?”

“Absoluntemont, mon cheri.”

“That is the worst French I have ever heard.”

“I thought I was speaking Italian.”

“Amateurs! I’ll be leaving later today; Suzy will travel with her parents back to school in a few days, so you’d better keep them all safe or I’ll be looking for a very dull hand hedge lopper.” I hung up and giggled.

“Sorry about the giggle. I guess I’m a girl now.”

“No, you’re a woman, Joanie. And happy to be one from the way you laughed. I’m so glad for you, Hon,” my aunt said.

“The man I was kidding is the Cranberry Kid; he can fly and is combat trained, so you are in good hands. As to his code name, I blame those comic book publishers who copyrighted all the good ones. All silliness aside, do be careful who you talk to about me though. I’ll give you my private cell and e-mail numbers, but don’t tell anyone. I don’t want you put you at anymore risk.”

We soon were talking like nothing had changed, which made me happy. I missed the mundane things of my old life, and this was a precious gift.

“Mom, Dad, you wouldn't believe who called Joanie while we were on the train.”

“Somebody famous from the way you’re grinning, child,” Her dad said.

A similarly silly grin crept onto my face. “I met this woman back in Boston, and she keeps pestering me about coming on this TV talk show.”

“Sounds like a reporter who wants an interview, but if Suzy knows who she is, she must be a national figure. What’s the show?”

“Around Midnight; she sometimes hosts it. You may have heard of her, Jennifer Stevens.”

“Joanie, she’s just about the hottest thing on TV or in films nowadays.” Suzy’s dad sounded impressed.

“She said something similar about me. Scared me senseless.” I laughed, and my cousin-in-law laughed back. Note to my readers: what else would you call your cousin’s husband? And *Bubba* is right out! I’ll admit he’s a good-ole’ boy but he’s a classy one. Plus he has a wicked sense of humor and Christina loves him.

“She’s real nice and has a good sense of humor, Dad. She sure wants Joanie on that show, but she wasn’t pushy about it.”

“I might go on the show in late August, that way it doesn’t interfere with summer classes, and I only have to travel to Syracuse, New York, instead of LA. That way I can take my Whateley friends with me.”

“That’s good you’re making friends at school.”

“They’re more than just her friends, Grandma, Grandpa. Joanie has this band at school, and we’re all in it!”

“Suzy is very good; she’d one of our best singers and plays keyboards. Christine, you have a talented daughter.”

“Could you sing something for us?’ my aunt asked.

Suzy and I talked privately for a moment and agreed on one. “We’d like to take the mood down just a bit,” I said in a cheesy nightclub singer’s voice. Suzy giggled, and I broke up. “Ready?” Suzy played the old upright piano as we sang the Bette Midler hit, The Rose, as a duet. We sang softly at first, gradually building then dropping in volume, trying to remain faithful to Bette’s interpretation. There was complete silence until Suzy spoke.

“What do you think?” Suzy asked.

“You were beautiful, both of you,” my uncle said. My aunt simply cried as did I.

“Thanks Grandpa, Grandma.” Suzy gave them both hugs.

“You don’t know how much that means to me,” I said.

“I was so busy learning church and classical music, I never got into popular music, but I wish I sounded that good.”

“Christine, coming from you that is high praise indeed. I always thought you had a great voice, and you still do.”

“Mom!” Suzy said and hugged her.

Her dad said nothing, but hugged his daughter then kissed me rather passionately.

“My, aren’t we frisky!” I fanned myself like some overheated southern belle. “I do believe I have the vapors.”

“Why do you think I married him, Cousin?”

* * * *

They offered to take me out to eat to celebrate, but I felt it was too risky. They reluctantly agreed. I said my goodbyes, hugging and kissing everyone in thanks for their accepting me.

“I have to go. I wish I could stay, but I have friends in Iowa who are counting on me. They’ve accepted me into their family, and you know my feelings about family.”

Before driving off, I spoke to Suzy and her parents. ”It’s okay, now, to tell my aunt and uncle all about me, but maybe not the Playboy stuff -- at least not until they have had some time to digest my being a girl. My posing naked might be a bit too much, too soon.” I took Suzy aside. “Suzy, be very careful about describing my relationship with Eric, please! You can tell them we met when I saved his sister and we became close friends, but don’t tell them about us being boyfriend and girlfriend. I don’t want him hurt, and he will be if word leaks of our relationship.”

“But you’re doing no more than Tom and I, heck you’re doing less. Weekly phone calls and few kisses here and there is pretty tame.”

“The press will assume it is otherwise and hound us. Someday I will be happy to tell the World about Eric and me, but not now. Please?”

“You’ve got it; you and him are friends and that is all.”

“Thank you, Suzy.”

“No sweat, girlfriends stick together,” she said then hugged me.

“Auntie, Uncle, I have to go, but thanks. This means more to me than I can say.”

“Same here, dear. Give your uncle one more hug. How often does a man my age get hugged by a gorgeous young woman?”

“Well, if Suzy and Christine do it, that makes three of us, four including my aunt.”

As I drove off I thought, ~~I don’t ever remember my eighty-something aunt laughing that hard.~~

* * * *

I stopped at my cousin’s station to top off my fuel. The multi-fuel air/fuel-cells could use most motor fuels. Regular unleaded gasohol would do fine. I shut down my motor and swiped my debit card through the reader — pay-at-the-pump is great. I bent to reach the gas cap and started fueling. I heard squealing tires and brakes then a crunching sound. I turned to see several cars in a classic fender-bender.

“Someone call 911!” I yelled back towards the station and immediately finished fueling. I moved my truck off to the side where they usually parked cars awaiting their turn in the repair bays, but as near to the road as possible. I grabbed my oversized first aid kit from the truck bed — almost an EMT’s kit with what I carried in it -- and ran out to the road to see if I could help.

“Is anyone hurt? I may not look like it, but I have advanced first-aid training. I’m in training for my EMT certification.”

The collision was slow speed, and everyone was belted in, so only the auto body-shops would get much business from this. There was no sign or smell of spilled fuel, so fire was not a danger. I walked from car to car, asking people how they felt. Everyone was alert and could safely wait for the professionals to check them out.

“Miss, I’m in pain.” A high school age boy standing by the ditch called out. His car was at the front of the chain, so he must have been the cause of it all.

~~Strange, he looks uninjured.~~ “Where does it hurt?”

“Deep in my heart, lovely lady. Care to have a drink with me? I’ll show you a great time.” He did look me in the eyes, though he took a longer look down my cleavage. I looked at him again and was both disgusted and pleased by what was the true source of his *pain*. ~~That must be painful, and no way am I offering to help him get relief.~~

“How old are you?”

“Um, ah, twenty-two. I’m twenty-two.”

“Yeah, and I’m Winston Churchill. I’d guess you to be seventeen, nineteen tops. Isn’t the legal age for drinking in Wisconsin twenty-one?”

“But you could drink, Joanie; you’re of age.”

“Glad to see you know me. So you spotted me, your little head overruled your big head, and you slammed on the brakes so hard you caused a chain collision. Then you offer to get me drunk. ‘I’ll show you a great time,’ that was a euphemism for us having sexual relations, I presume? None of these points are much in your favor. Just because I am pretty does not mean I am of easy virtue,” I said and giggled. ~~The sight of my tush sticking out caused an accident? This is right out of a slap-stick comedy. No, this is right out of Lil’ Abner; I’m a real-life Stupifyin’ Jones!~~

Around then the police, paramedics and fire department showed up. I had my ID at the ready. By this point, we were gathering a significant crowd. I called the Kid on my cell.

“Kid, Joanie here. I assume you recorded the accident on your surveillance equipment?”

“You betcha, girl; we have sensors all over the neighborhood. These folks are your family after all. Why do you need to know?”

“Just in case the authorities give me a hard time. Keep a low profile, okay? I think I’ll be fine, but you never know.”

* * * *

“Miss, I’ve been informed you caused this accident,” a police officer said, breaking my concentration on the phone call.

“I have to go now, the police have arrived. We’ll talk later.”

“I am alleged to have done what, Officer?” I turned and saw I was dealing with an officer from the Dark Side, i.e. the Village of Fox Point.

A word of explanation is in order. The road where the accident occurred is a former US Highway long since replaced by a freeway which was upgraded to an Interstate. It remains a busy local road, connecting some of the posh North Shore suburbs to various shopping centers. My cousins and their families, plus my aunt and uncle, all live on the Glendale side; across the road is Fox Point. Back when my uncle drove his service garage’s wrecker, he had the cops called on him if he stopped for more than a few minutes on a Fox Point street. This happened just blocks from the station, which he lived next to and co-owned with his brother. These people knew him and his trucks and still called the cops.

“You were reported as flashing the traffic in an obscene manner, thereby triggering a potentially fatal accident." He said this in a matter-of-fact tone, like my agreement was already assumed.

“At the time of the accident, I was fueling my truck -- with the motor off by the way. I see this station is equipped with video cameras to identify drive offs. Shall we view their tapes and see what really happened? With luck they caught the accident on camera as well.”

“You may talk a smart line, but you are dressed like a prostitute.”

“I was trying to be helpful, and I object to being called that, sir. It’s a hot and humid day; this is appropriate clothing for a young woman in the outdoors and in no way violates any decency codes I know of.” ~~Why hasn’t he asked for any ID yet? That is standard procedure for most departments.~~

“That box of medical supplies will get you in big trouble. Practicing medicine without a license is a serious offense, young lady.”

“Officer, first of all, why haven’t you asked me for any ID? If you had, you would see I am certified in advanced first aid, and I am a deputized member of law enforcement in New Hampshire.”

“Show me your ID, carefully. This had better be no BS.”

~~Does this guy pal around with members of the MCO? What a jerk!~~

He looked at my ID and was mulling over how to react. They clearly conflicted with what he had been told. His dilemma was resolved, when the station owner walked up. The owner, my cousin, looked at me and smiled.

“I think I may be of assistance, Jimmy. I was ringing up a customer in the office and had a clear view out the plate-glass window. This woman did nothing to contribute to the accident. Whoever reported this got things wrong or is trying to make the police look foolish. You know me from Rotary and the recreation department boy’s baseball leagues; would I lie to you, Jimmy?”

He was in a mechanics’ jumpsuit -- greasy and showing his 50-something years -- but my cousin never had looked so handsome to me. The officer returned my ID and looked sheepish.

“I’m dreadfully sorry, Ma’am … Ms. Brown. I was led to believe things were different than they were, and well, I acted badly. You have my sincere apologies.”

“That’s quite alright.” ~~Maybe he just puts on this tough guy act for teens in general?~~

My cousin started to laugh.

“What’s so funny, Dave?”

“Do you know who you were on the edge of arresting?”

“Her ID said Joan Brown from New Hampshire, but I don’t see …”

“This is the woman who saved my niece, Jimmy. She’s a world famous singer. Joanie, I’m very pleased to meet my niece’s best friend.”

He shook my hand. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged, hard. I gave him a quick kiss. On his cheek -- he is my cousin and this is not Arkansas. A little grease wasn’t going to harm me. ~~I know you work out regularly along with your wife, but damn, you’re fit, cousin.~~ I gave the officer my contact info, if they needed a witness. I was right; the station cameras were working and had caught most of the accident, so I’d likely not have to testify. The officer left, and it was just me and Dave standing near his gas pumps. Most of the accident was cleared up by now, except for a couple of disabled cars. From the looks of discussions between the drivers, and one of my cousin’s employees, his station might get some extra business. A custom van pulled into the station and my cousin’s husband got out to fuel it.

“I thought you’d left for Iowa, Joanie? Did you change your mind about coming to dinner with us?”

“I was gassing up, and there was this accident on the old highway. Some young man decided watching my rear was more important that watching traffic; I know I’m cute, still … I’m in training as an EMT and Police officer so I ran down to help. You know me -- little Miss Trouble-magnet.”

He laughed in his charming, southern good-old-boy voice. “Yes, you do have a habit of finding trouble and jumping in. I see you met my brother-in-law.”

“Uncle Dave!” Suzy shouted and ran up to him. “You met Joanie? She’s just the nicest girl I’ve ever known. Joanie, this is my Uncle Dave, but then you’ve known him for … Oops!”

“Oops?” Dave asked. At this point the doors to the van opened, and I saw Christine and my aunt and uncle.

“I had better go, or I’ll never get to Iowa. Suzy, if you and the rest would explain what *oops* means -- discreetly -- I would be much obliged.” I whispered to her, “I trust your uncle; I have for years.” I stood up, smiled at them and walked off. “Goodbye, everybody!”

I stowed my first aid kit back in the truck, got in and drove off. The only sounds were the faint noise of the electrics, the tires on the pavement and Suzy’s girlish squeals. ~~I think she just told Dave who I used to be.~~ I drove the short distance to the freeway on-ramp and was on my way.

* * * *

I made great time, but it is a good six hours minimum to Des Moines from Milwaukee. I stopped two hours out, in Dodgeville, WI, to stretch my legs and get something to eat. I ate in this Wisconsin-based fast food place; its name begins with a letter *C*. Their prices are a little higher than the big national chains, but they cook your order after you place it, not before, and their food is great. Plus they have custard and all kinds of soda fountain treats. Can you say fattening? I had a North Atlantic Cod Filet sandwich, a coffee and a large banana shake.

I got a few looks from the staff and patrons, but they treated me like any other customer until ... ~~Odd how the volume on the sound system has gone up since I ordered.~~

“The top two songs this week were recorded live at the same concert a few weeks ago in Hawaii. The artist has had a song at number one and at least one other song in the top ten almost continuously since her debut last Halloween. Now for the number two song in the nation, a recording even the King couldn’t improve on.”

"Burning Love" had done well for Elvis, and it was doing very well by me. It and "Unchained Melody" were a juggernaut on the charts. It was almost embarrassing how well they were doing. I quickly finished my coffee and sandwich. I tossed my trash and took my shake with me to the bathroom where I washed my hands; I’d gone bathroom while my sandwich was being cooked. I was heading out of the bathroom as "Burning Love" ended. They broke for a commercial immediately after. ~~Thank you, Ghod.~~

I was about to leave when several kids ran up to me and asked if I was Joanie. “Yeah, I’m afraid so; disappointed?” Then I giggled like the seventeen year-old I am. I ended up signing autographs for everyone in the place. I rather enjoyed it. I exited the building to the sound of "Unchained Melody" and feeling all was right with the world.

* * * *

Four hours later, I pulled into Terrace Hill. This time, after being checked in by the guards, I drove my truck right up to the family parking area. I was surprised no one ran out to greet me. I grabbed my bag of presents for the family and walked in the mansion. I was greeted by a new tour guide, and she was definitely frazzled.

“Miss, you are late for the tour; please keep up or wait for the next one.” I immediately disliked this gal.

“I’m not with the tour. I’m here to…”

“You need to get a ticket; the fees help maintain this grand old house. The ticket booth is down the hall.”

“I’m a visitor here to see the Johnsons. Excuse me.” I turned and walked to the main staircase.

“Miss, you can’t wander around unsupervised. The top floor is private and off-limits to the public.”

I ignored her. I can be stubborn.

“Ma’am, I’m calling security!”

“Go for it; this should be interesting.” I stopped and sat on an intermediate landing. I heard people coming running from upstairs. I turned to look; the officer saw me and broke out laughing.

“Joanie, dear, please be nice to the tour guides. Many are college students working part-time, and they are not familiar with your comings and goings.” He escorted me down to the now confused student worker.

“Judy, Ms. Brown is a regular guest here. I’m sorry if you weren’t informed.”

She apologized then walked off muttering something like, “First day on the job, and I’m toast.”

I ran after her and gently stopped her. “I was in a mood and gave you a hard time. You were protecting the Johnsons by your actions, Judy. Just because I am famous doesn’t mean I necessarily had permission to go where I was going. You were protecting my friends; I am extremely fond of them, so I am not upset in the least. No bad feelings?” I offered her a hug; we are women after all. “I’ll see if I can get you a raise or a bonus for being alert to a possible intruder.” I whispered in her ear. She looked much happier.

I waited in a fourth floor parlor for the family. The officers on duty wouldn’t say where the family was but that I was welcome to wait. I nodded off on a huge overstuffed couch and was woken by someone tickling me.

“I was tired and I … Babs?” She was huge but looked healthy. That bit about pregnant women glowing was true for her. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

“We used the elevator; the stairs are too much for me.”

“I wish I had come to visit you in the hospital; I feel guilty I didn’t.”

“Eric told you not to come, and I told Eric to tell you that. You did as I wished -- no big deal.”

“But you were in pain.”

“Almost none, dear, I had some bruising from the seatbelts, and that’s almost faded away. They kept me overnight to make sure about the twins who are also doing fine. Now give your big sister a hug, will you, and quickly. I want to use the bathroom.”

I gave her a hug and helped her to the nearest bathroom. She sent me on my way.

“I’m not an invalid. You want to stare at a woman’s private parts? Stand in front of a mirror and strip. Now go!” she said and laughed.

Bob came up next and gave me a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. “Thanks for being a friend to my wife. Your calls do more good than you know. She means everything to me, Joanie, so thanks.” He kissed me sweetly, like I was Babs’s younger and favorite sister. ~~Duh, Joanie, Babs just called you her sister, and he does what she says after all.~~ Then he gave me a second kiss, a knock-my-socks-off kiss. I was dizzy, could barely think a coherent thought, and was pleasantly aroused afterwards -- oh my yes! Part of me, the naughty girl lurking deep inside, wanted more — much, much more. “That’s for the Senator and playing matchmaker. He hasn’t been this happy since the day Eric was born.”

“You’re welcome?” I slurred, confused. A pair of skinny arms wrapped around me. I opened my eyes and saw my increasingly lovely young friend.

“Mom looks like that, too, after Dad kisses her. Thanks for coming, Joanie, I missed you,” Mel said and she kissed me on the cheek. Her tone projected pure love for her older sister/best friend.

She backed off, and another pair of arms encircled me from behind. They were higher off the ground and definitely more muscular. So was the body they were attached to. “Don’t I get a hug?”

I was tempted to spin hard on my heels and ravish the boy, but I knew I had to be mature about this. I giggled, turned, blushed and kissed him like a girl at her first dance afraid that boys have cooties. So much for mature.

“Eric!” I squealed, almost squeaked. “Ghods! I sound like a love-struck teenager.”

“Joanie, dear, you are one.”

“Thanks, Babs, for your *kind* words of support. Where were you all earlier? Usually someone is here to greet me; I feel so rejected.”

“Having a big, long prenatal checkup, I’m in my third trimester. After the auto accident, my doctor wants to see me more often as a precaution.”

“Why did everyone go?”

“Mom wanted us to know what to expect in these last months and when she gives birth. Joanie, we got to see the babies. They used one of those sono … sonogram machines. John and Joan look so cute. I saw their tiny fingers and toes, and where he has his boy thing and she doesn’t. It was real tiny,” Mel said and giggled.

“My brother isn’t even born yet, be fair.”

“I agree, Eric. Your brother John will be a proper man in his time. No fair picking on him when he can’t defend himself. Once he’s old enough, go for the throat, Mel, no mercy.”

“Joanie?”

“Sorry, Eric, but I have to side with my fellow girl here. It’s tradition. If I was a guy I’d side with you, but then I’d be dating Mel, so count your blessings.”

“Okay, but I feel like the girls are picking on the boys.”

I kissed him on the cheek. “How do you feel now?”

“Much better.”

* * * *

“I’m yours for the next two weeks then I have to fly to Wales. So what do *we* want to do?” We were sitting together on that big couch, Babs, me and Bob in that order. Eric and Mel sat on the carpet facing us.

“Mel and I are in school through the end of the week.”

“Okay, say for this week I spend the days with your mom and dad, and in the evenings maybe help you study for your exams? Starting this weekend, through to the weekend after, how about I take you and Mel on vacation? I can show you my favorite places in Wisconsin, or we can go wherever you two like — maybe a theme park like Great America or one of the Wisconsin Dells attractions. There’s a real stern-wheel steamboat that does day cruises out of Lacrosse, the Amy Belle Swain, or I could take you to see where I grew up. We could visit my dad and sister? That’s just a few ideas; I’m open to suggestions.”

“That sounds good. Can we visit your friends in Madison?” Mel asked.

“Red, Gin and Carrie of MSG? Sure. Maybe we can see Dr. Sara. She was my doctor when I mutated and helped me a lot. She’s very funny too.”

“Grandma Sara? We met her, and she’s silly,” Mel replied.

“You met … Grandma Sara?!”

“Grandpa brought her to visit. She’s a pretty woman like you, Joanie. I see why Grandpa loves her,” Eric added.

“Dad wanted my blessing to marry Sara. He felt guilty I hardly remember my mom. Dad feels that he deprived me of having a chance to love a new mother as I grew up. I told him it was about time he had a girlfriend and to stop acting like a fool and marry her.”

“I’m happy you approve; I would have felt bad about it, if you didn’t.”

“Dad and Mom -- I like the sound of that word, Mom -- told me how you played match maker.”

“I thought they had a lot in common and might hit it off.”

“Hit it off? Joanie, though they tried to restrain themselves, during the visit they were all over each other like teenagers in heat. I thought Bob and I were wild in our day; I don’t know how Dad can survive being alone with her,” Babs said and grinned.

“Mom and Dad said it was okay for them to be so intimate with each other, because they are going to be married. I’m glad for Grandpa, he’s been on his own too long,” Eric added.

Eric had not mentioned something important about Sara, neither had Babs or Mel. I had to ask. “Bob,” I whispered “did they tell you about, ah, her being, um …”

“... that this is a shotgun wedding? Sure!” I was in shock, then Bob started laughing.

“You knew?”

“Joanie, we saw how Mom changed with her pregnancy. Grandma Sara is definitely pregnant -- even Eric noticed,” Mel explained.

“How do you feel about her having a baby?”

“I always wanted a sister, and now I have two,” Babs said and hugged me.

“Though she’ll technically be our aunt, to me she’ll be my little sister. I’ll get to teach her about being a girl and stuff.”

“I think it’s good, too. Having an aunt younger than me will be strange but fun,” Eric added.

“Whoa, slow down, a sister? I knew of the marriage proposal and the pregnancy, but a girl?” ~~ Plus wouldn’t she be more like a younger cousin? … Then I think of Babs as my sister and I want to marry her son. Ghods, we’re both loonies. ~~

“It’s the latest development in early tests for a baby’s sex. Sara and Joe called us late last night to let us know. She tried to call you, but your cell was off.”

“I was on the night train from Boston with Suzy and didn’t want to disturb anyone. That was my piece of news for you; well, one of the pieces anyway. I took Suzy Kenner to her grandparents’ house in Wisconsin. Her parents were waiting to meet her there. She and her mom decided I was being an idiot, and well, I have an aunt and uncle again, and maybe another cousin besides Christine, one of her uncles.”

“It went well. I can tell from your expression.”

I nodded in agreement, I could barely think let alone talk. My emotions were building as I fought to stay in control. “There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation in accepting me as their former nephew. They love me as much as before, maybe more so because I saved Suzy. I …” I started crying.

“You missed them that much?” Babs asked softly.

“I …”

I was not coherent for some time, but eventually I settled down.

* * * *

“Are you seeing a doctor, Joanie? Getting any counseling, hon? This last year had to be stressful, what with your mutation and all the emotional highs and lows.”

“I was seeing Dr. Bellows at school, for a while …”

I was interrupted by Bob's laughing. He had a deep infectious laugh -- the male counterpoint to my frequent giggles.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Joanie, but Dr. Bellows? Does he have an ornate glass bottle in his office?”

“A matter of fact he does, and he knows all the jokes about his *twin* on I Dream of Jeannie.”

“You should get help, Joanie; I think all the traumatic things that happened since last July are overwhelming you,” he said.

“I would, but when can I find the time?”

“Make time. It’s your wellbeing at stake here, sweetie.”

“I’ll consider it, and if you call me sweetie one more time, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Bob challenged.

“This,” I launched myself at Bob, attacking him mercilessly. I pushed him onto his back and … “I knew it, you’re just like me! Now that I know your weakness, you are at my mercy, mwah, ha, ha, ha!”” I cackled in triumph as I had my evil way with him.

“N-n-n-n-n-no, st-st-st-st-o-o-o-o-op!” he sputtered between gasps for breath. ~~Damn but the man is ticklish and in so many places.~~

“Joanie, that’s not nice to exploit my husband’s weakness like that. The last time I *assaulted* him so aggressively, he got me pregnant.”

I was on top of him, straddling his body... I suddenly *knew* how the twins were conceived. ~~Oh my Ghod, what am I doing!~~ I backed away immediately. “Whoa, I’d better stop. I’m so sorry, Bob, I didn’t …” I was terribly embarrassed and excited at the same time. “Um, Eric? Come here, please,” and a part of me meant it. Thankfully, I recovered my sanity, if not my dignity, in spite of that siren’s voice.

“Joanie, leave my son alone, until he’s eighteen, at least. And he is just like his dad by the way.”

“Is he?” Mel asked and winked at me. Eric tried to run, but I got him around the waist, while Mel went straight for his armpits. I worked on the sides of his ribs. We relented, eventually.

“Brother, I never knew you could turn that shade of red.”

“I’ll get you for this!”

“No you won’t, Eric.”

“Why?”

“’Cause it’s not nice to threaten your sister, and because you will be too busy … with me.”

“Oh!”

“Now get those clothes off, and you’d better be up for it.”

* * * *

Now if I was a tease, I’d break my d/j/w at this point, leaving you thinking Eric and I were about to … well, you are wrong ... regrettably. We played Horse. It’s a game of shooting baskets to spell out horse or whatever. The least misses wins. John — the old me -- was a terrible ball player, but I, Joanie, remembered from previous visits Eric liked the sport. I have to do what he likes some of the time to be fair. We hurried of to our respective rooms to change.

We’d agreed to meet out by the basketball hoop. I spotted him first. “Nice outfit, Eric.”

“I wore it ‘specially for you.” This caused me to giggle as it was Eric’s school Phys Ed uniform — very generic and strangely sexy in its utilitarian plainness. That he was wearing it had a lot to do with why I liked the look.

“Like mine?” I'd worn my running outfit.

“Do you have to ask?”

“Yes I do, Eric. I’m getting better at this girl stuff, and all the movies and TV imply this fishing for complements is important.” I pouted then giggled again. My emotions were all over the map today.

“It looks terrible on you. I know, lets play shirts and skins. You can be skins.”

“Don’t you wish, Eric, and thank you, I feel better now. Shoot the ball, pervert.”

I played badly at first. To be honest I sucked at it, but then John was never much of an athlete. Eric was creaming me, and part of me didn’t like it. I kept at it and surprised myself with how rapidly I improved.

“I thought you said you were bad at sports, Joanie?”

“John was bad; I guess Joanie is better.”

“Okay then, try some one-on-one?”

“You’re on, Eric!”

This was much harder as my dribbling was terrible. Eric was beating me easily, again, but I was having fun. My play soon improved, and he was no longer dominating me. After a while he forgot himself and was blocking me pretty roughly, but legally -- no elbows. I gave as good as I got. We were bumping into each other, getting sweaty, grimy and having the time of our lives. I felt alive, strong and oh so accepted. Strangely, despite the close, almost intimate contact, I was not aroused -- or not much, anyway. I was having too much fun competing with Eric to be thinking of sex with him. We were like two school pals testing our maturing bodies against each other in preparation for competing for mates at a later age. I was simply one of the guys, just built kind of funny.

* * * *

It was getting late into the afternoon when Mel came out to find us. “It’s nearly time to eat. Euh! You two need a shower; you stink.”

“Want to shower with me, Eric?” We laughed, ran into Terrace Hill, and off to our respective -- and separate -- showers.

I was luxuriating in the warm spray and started to think aloud, “That went well; I think we can pull this off. Lots of wholesome physical activity together with restrained but affectionate contact, but nothing else happened. This means we can have lots of social intercourse and get to know each other as good friends before we become lovers. I think I have this whole girlfriend/boyfriend thing sussed … then why did I think intercourse and not interaction?” I asked myself.

I dressed nice for the Saturday dinner, a mid-thigh summer dress, pumps and some tasteful jewelry -- some of my Hawaiian acquisitions. I entered the family dining room and found Bob in a polo shit, khakis and tennis shoes, Babs in a simple maternity gown and bunny slippers, Mel in Capri-styled jeans, a sleeveless top and cross trainers, and Eric in jeans, a printed U of Iowa t-shirt, gym socks and clean basketball shoes.

“Joanie, you look lovely, but you didn’t have to dress up; we’re having tacos tonight. Takeout, actually, as Bob felt we all needed a day off from any household chores. It’s from a local Mexican restaurant, so it’s really good,” Babs said and smiled.

I felt foolish, until I saw how Mel was studying me, like she was memorizing this look for future reference. Eric’s warm smiles every time he looked my way told me I’d worn the perfect outfit.

* * * *

We all helped Babs with clean-up after diner; Eric wanted to spend more time with me, alone. Mel objected, as I was her friend first. I went all Solomon on them.

“You both claim I should spend the next few hours with each of you exclusively. The problem is there is only one of me. I guess I’ll have to cut myself in two, so I can do both.”

“Works for me.”

“Me too.” They replied in turn.

“That’s not what I expected. I thought the more worthy one would back off, like with Solomon, the two women and the baby … Oh yeah, wrong example, huh kiddos?”

“That stunk, Joanie.”

“What my sister said; sorry, hon.”

“I maybe 49 years old, but I’m not omnic … omnice … prefect, perfect, that’s it! Perfect. I have my blonde moments, you know.” I snickered and they both laughed.

“You were having us on, Joanie?”

“What do *you* think, Mel? I tell you what, here’s my deal. Eric gets a scorching hot kiss with lots of tongue and sexy fondling, and then Mel gets my undivided attention until bedtime. Sounds fair?”

Eric’s shit-eating grin told me I’d hit pay dirt. “Absolutely!”

“Seems fair to me, Joanie,” Mel replied.

“Okay, then. Mel, kiss your brother, and then we can go off and have some fun.”

“What!?” Mel screeched.

“Why you dirty little tease!” Eric grumbled. They looked at each other, and I bolted. I ran for my guest room, but I forgot to lock the connecting door to the next room … Babs and Bob got some really good photos of me, as I was being tortured by Mel and Eric -- home video actually.

You must remember I am an exemplar *across the board*; that includes the responsiveness of my skin. John was quite ticklish. My mom was not, but my female self, despite many outward similarities to Mom, is ticklish -- very, very ticklish. And many of the same pain and pleasure receptors that feed into my ticklishness are part and parcel of my body’s erogenous zones. The kids thought I was trying to break free, which I was. I was also on the verge of having a whopping great orgasm, and I did not want the minors to realize why I was reacting as I was. Babs and Bob realized what was happening and saved me before I went over the edge, but just barely.

“That’s enough kids, let Joanie breathe.” I was panting irregularly, flushed and my mind was saturated with endorphins. I was high as a kite, and it was legal. “Out, everyone, so I can help Joanie calm down,” Babs insisted. They left, and she closed both doors. “Are you okay, Hon? Bob tickled me like that a few times when we wanted to spice up our marriage; you know silk scarves, tying one to the bed and the use of feathers or fur to tantalize?”

“Babs I feel like a … I feel dirty somehow.”

“How were they to know? Do you need to, you know? The pulse setting on the shower is most … pleasing.”

“Babs, you dirty little … can you keep them busy for say half an hour and make sure whatever you’re doing is loud. Bless you.”

I gave her a sweet sister—to-sister kiss on the lips, and that nearly got me going again.

“Make that an hour.”

Like I said, I have very responsive skin.

* * * *

Forty-five minutes later I was clean, in fresh clothes and feeling absolutely fantastic. Babs was right, that shower head was bliss; I almost forgot I was here to visit. ~~I need to remember what brand and model this shower head is … I’m in LOVE.~~ So, I admit it, I would have used the whole hour, but I ran out of hot water.

I found them in the media room watching the DVD Jay had sent of the Waikiki concert.

Eric turned to me and spoke carefully, like he had given his words a great deal of thought. “Joanie, I’m sorry we treated you like that. We tickled you far longer than was funny or enjoyable for you. Mom said you were in distress at the end. We are very sorry; we took the tickling too far. We only meant to have fun, not to hurt you, right Mel?”

“Like Eric said.” Mel walked over to me and gave me a big hug.

“I forgive you; you meant no harm … and it wasn’t all that unpleasant, far from it. Just don’t do it again for a while, okay?” I rolled my eyes and grinned. The two of them looked extremely embarrassed. I filed this away for future reference, for after Eric and I are legal ... Whoopee!

* * * *

The rest of the evening we spent catching up on each other’s lives and just shooting the breeze. I was tempted to give Dr. Sara a call and berate her for not telling me she was carrying a girl but decided to wait. It was heavenly spending a quiet evening with close family. Yes, I said family. I went to bed happy, and I slept the best I had in ages. My dreams were memorable and extremely private, so there!

* * * *

Richard Thorn, Erin Flynn and Alexis Eden are the creations of Julie_O

Around Midnight ,Wayne Zachery and Jennifer Stevens are the creations of Bob Arnold

I am the creation of my parents, or so THEY claimed

To be continued
Would *I* lie to you?

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction
Chapter 12

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/one-size-fits-all 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… In our previous chapter, Itinerant said, ‘(Great. Now I'm getting 'cheep' shots … Doo-dah! Doo-dah!)’ Tisk tisk tisk, how *Camp*-town can you be? (Depends on how much horsing around I do. (-dah))

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, 2005-2012.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4,Chapter 12

It IS chapter 12, really. I *KNOW* chapter 11 had like TWO parts, I think, but this IS chapter 12. No foolln'

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Homophone herding by Holly Hart
Um, that means they proofed it &/or otherwise saved you from me.

Chapter 12, Sitting Pretty, V a c a t i o n

(Part one of Chapter 12 to be honest. Probably four, maybe five parts to this chapter in total)

Various locations in Iowa and Wisconsin, June 03-16, 2007

Sunday June 03, 2007

I woke to the sensation of something brushing across my face.

“Huh, wah? Flufppb?” You try talking with an ostrich feather twitching in your mouth. “What the … Who did that … Mel?!”

“Joanie, it’s 7 o’clock. Get up. We eat in ten minutes.”

“Okay. Jeese, that feather tastes awful.” I pretended to swat her for being a tease. Mel laughed as she ran out of my room.

I dressed quickly, brushed my hair, and hustled to the kitchen. I saw a buffet set out before me: juice, coffee, milk, eggs — several styles -- bacon, ham, sausage links, toast, waffles, bagels, jam, jelly, cream cheeses, and cereal. I don’t remember it all; I’ve seen resort breakfast buffets with less variety.

“Babs, why didn’t someone get me up earlier? I would have helped; I can
cook.”

“You think I did this all by myself, Joanie?"

"No! Yes! I mean this must have took a lot of work, and with you in …" The moment I spoke, I knew I shouldn't say it, but it blurted out anyway. " … your condition. Oh crap! I didn't mean … Babs, it's just this is too much; I'm no one spec …. I'll shut up now, *'k*?" If I'd said anymore, I could have put both feet and my crew cab in my mouth. ~~~ Dumb... dumb... dodo, brainless human being …~~ My mind chose that moment to remember an old Bill Cosby routine, and boy/girl did I fit it to a tee. FYI, when dope-slapping yourself make sure you miss. It hurts!

Babs laughed. "I'll admit I did the eggs, but I sat on a stool, as I worked. Mel did the toast and helped move things to the table. Bob did the waffles and sausage, and Eric did the bacon and ham. We wanted to give you a proper welcome home. We all love you so very much. Doing this for you was a joy not a burden.

“And it wasn't all that much work for me, honest; and you deserve it, dear. I like to do things for my friends and you, dear Joanie, are more than a friend. When we spoke a while back about us being sisters, I meant it.”

“It’s wonderful that you're doing this for me, Sis, but it doesn’t seem right, what with you being pregnant. I know that sounds old fashioned and maybe chauvinistic, but …”

“Ah, the remnants of the man is talking, Sis. I’m no invalid, just because I'm pregnant; I take things easier, but I can still do a lot.”

“Now I’ve insulted you. I’m sorry.” I fought back tears; I felt very stupid.

“It’s sweet you want to protect me, but I’m fine, honest. Tell you what, if you promise to take my children to a park or someplace fun, you’re off the hook. Moms hanging with their teenage children are a drag; pregnant moms, doubly so, triply so in my case.”

“Mom! It’s kewl hanging with you,” Mel protested.

Eric was right behind. “Like Mel said,” Eric echoed his sister.

“Sweet, kiddos, but don’t lie to your mom. I understand teens hanging with mom is uncool. Plus I tire easily now. I don't have the energy to keep up. Babs turned to me. “So is it a deal, Joanie? You'd be doing us all a big favor.”

“I’m not keeping them from church, am I?”

“It’s entirely up to Eric and Mel; Bob and I don’t force our beliefs on them.”

“You have a deal, but if you cook for me again, I’ll be very angry, *huff, huff*, very angry indeed!” Then we both got the giggles. I do a wicked Marvin the Martian. You know, his Roman Legionnaire's get up with the tennis shoes might just work for me. Hum, maybe if I substitute, trade his tennis shoes for some Roman sandals with the rawhide things laced criss-cross fashion up to the knees, with maybe a touch of heel, say no more than four or five inches … sort of Ben Hur meets Betty Page.

~~Ghods ! I AM shoe obsessed !~~

* * * *

Breakfast went pretty smooth;y after this, though I found, make that we found, ourselves *serving* Babs her's until she told us. "Cut it out, I'm not an invalid! Can't I eat in peace?" She tried to sound mad but it was clear she wasn't. We let her be after that. After eating we put out plates, cups and flat wear in the sink. Yeah, a dull story but important. How else would they get clean? Oh, we rinsed them and put them in the diswasher too. Mel had to show me how.

What! Who said that? I AM not stupid! We never had a diswasher at home so I never learned. Did I say dis washer? OH MY GHOD! I really am a blonde! And sorry about all the exclamation marks -- ! -- but Wallyword had a sale.

* * * *

With breakfast over, my two co-conspirators and I met in Mel's room to plan our day.

“What do you want to do…?” Eric got this leering grin on his face.

“Okay, I *know* what you want to do, but remember not until you’re eighteen, Eric?” I giggled, and he laughed.

“Just joking, Joanie.”

"I know you were, Eric. You were, weren't you?" That got a laugh from my friends. "So what do you two want to do today? You're the experts on this *town*, what's fun? Whatever you two want to do, I'm game … That means it's okay"”

Mel looked at me like she was about to say "I know what *game* means, Blondie." but she quickly smiled instead. “I have to be at Lisa’s by 4 o’clock for the chat session, but a day at the beach would be nice.”

“What my sister said could be fun,” Eric agreed.

Part of me could imagine just how much fun that could be, and I gave her a stern mental reprimand … and a mental high five. Healthy young bodies -- a certain young man's in particular -- in wet, clinging swimsuits … parts of me were drooling. When I got this thought about skinny-dipping …. Whoa momma!

“Get your suits, and make sure they fit; you're both growing like weeds, after all. Make sure you grab some big towels, sunglasses and sunscreen for us all, and we’re off.”

* * * *

Eric and Mel suggested this one park in Des Moines. It had a decent beach. There were nicer ones in the area, but the water was known to warm up faster than most other beaches in the area as it was on a reservoir on one of the rivers. I wore a sundress over my suit for modesty … and to tease a certain young man. Plain tennis shoes, a ball cap and a sports watch completed my outfit.

I mentioned the *sports watch*, as I said we were going to the beach which implies swimming, duh. If you are going to wear a watch while swimming any sane person would wear a sports watch since most sports watches are waterproof. Yeah, I know most people wouldn't wear a watch at all when swimming but Mel did need to get to Lisa's for the chat session. Does this make sense to you now? I brought this to your attention to prove I'm not completely blonde. I mean Geeze! A girl makes a few tiny mistakes and suddenly they think she's a ditz. I am so NOT one, a ditz that is . I am ALL girl I'll have you know.

Where was I? I was describing our trip to the beach. We brought along water bottles to keep hydrated but planned to eat out if hungry. I followed their directions, and we were there in less than 20 minutes. I parked and turned to speak.

“Make sure to use lots of sun block and reapply it often, particularly between 10 and 2 o’ clock. I’m a regen; you are not, and sunburn hurts.”

“Yes, Mommy,” they said. I ignored this attempt at baiting me. I am a mature woman after all.

I locked up any valuables they had in the truck; I had a special pocket in the bikini brief of my swimsuit to keep my truck key safe. It was a very small pocket, as it was a very small suit. It was that or wear the key on a cord around my neck dangling between my … ~~Eric would love that … Joanie, eighteen, remember eighteen.~~

“Eric, Mel, in an emergency, the key on me will get you in the truck to use my cell phone, but it won’t start the motor unless you know the security code.”

“And where is that key?”.

I smiled and moved closer. “It’s in my bikini bottom, Eric. ‘Wanna see?” I whispered that last bit in his ear, and he turned beet red. I said I ignored it, I never said I FORGAVE them for the *Yes, Mommy* crack.

“I’m just teasing you two. Come here please; I have something to give you both.”

I handed them each a key on a long colorful boot-lace to wear around their neck or waist. Each key was on a brightly colored, floating key-chain -- the ones they sell to boaters and fishermen -- just in case. "I think I can trust you two with keys to my truck. But no joyriding, I memorized the mileage reading," They chuckled.

We got to the water and laid out our towels on the sand to claim a spot. "I think it's time for some sunscreen. Mel, I’ll get your back with lotion. You’d better do Eric’s and mine; the two of us might get too enthused.”

She took off her cover-up and exposed a tasteful young woman’s bikini; it was nothing too wild or conservative. Some of the girls and guys on the beach checked her out from a distance -- checking-out the competition I assumed. My impression was she was *classed* as a future babe with an honorable mention in the overall competition -- though with a warning label of *serious jail-bait, hands off*. I thought she looked great.

“Mel, where did you get the bikini? I’m envious.”

“Mom took me shopping, I picked it out with her approval. She didn’t want me to get something too skimpy. What did she say? ‘No postage stamp thongs!’ But, Mom agreed, I needed something fashionable like my girlfriends wear. She's pretty kewl about stuff like that.”

“Your mom was right about no Brazilian-style bikini. I think what you have on is classic, tasteful and sweetly sexy. What do you think, Eric?”

“That if she wasn’t my sister, and I didn’t already have a girl, I’d ask her out … if she was a little older.”

I snickered, “I can see you’re a politician’s son, Eric.”

Mel coated her front, arms and legs in sunscreen, as I coated her back. She helped Eric, and I was glad I wasn’t doing his back -- or any other part of him for that matter. Helping his sister was embarrassing enough. ~~I swear every time I see him he looks that much more handsome, not that Mel isn’t blooming nicely.~~ If I’d tried slathering lotion on Eric, or visa versa, I just knew where our hands were going to wander off to. That kind of temptation we did not need. I filed *that* idea away for future reference. ~~Me, Eric and lots of slippery lotion … might want to substitute olive oil or cocoa butter for the sunscreen in *that* scenario, sunscreen tastes awful. Stings the eyes too … Ooooh, chocolate sauce … strawberries … whipped cream … maple syrup! ~~

“My turn,” I said and removed my sundress right on the beach. Mel giggled, and Eric’s jaw dropped clean off. We had to take him to the emergency room and have it glued back on -- Ta-dum! Sorry about that. I had my suit on under the dress, duh! I can safely say my outfit impressed him.

“Joanie, that is … I mean … Wow!”

“This little old thing?" *Little* being the operative word. "Carrie picked it out for me, last July. It’s sooo out of fashion, soooo last year. What do *you* think, Eric? This, this is ugly, I think I’ll take it off right now and throw it away. I’d rather swim naked than wear something so unattractive.” It was that pink thong-style bikini. You know the one that barely covers anything and does it so well too. I moved my hands behind my back and pretended like I was untying it. ~~I’m a mean little kid, teasing him like that. In my defense, this girl's entitled to some fun, even if it's only my imagination that can enjoy it. Meanwhile the *real me* is the unlucky one who has to be celibate … okay, faithful … Damn, even my inner voice mocks me~~

Eric swallowed hard and choked out, “I … I … I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.”

He ran off, and we girls giggled at his plight. I, we knew why he ran off, and it wasn't because he was upset or angry; it was because of … Okay I’d made him all hot and horny in a completely inappropriate time and place. If I was still a man, I would have been embarrassed to be seen in public *like* that. I noticed other men on the beach *adjusting* their suits, wrapping towels around their waists and so forth in response to my attire. I witnessed women giving me looks that would burn through armor plate. I was definitely NOT a welcome sight in the eyes of most of the women near me. And for those of you who think my swimsuit was scandalous, there were several other girls with equally skimpy suits or worse. Some of the Speedos the guys wore were damn near G-stings; it made for pleasant *scenery* from my viewpoint. Just because I'm not intending to *buy* anything doesn't mean I can't window-shop. It's not like I was in the changing room trying it on for siz …. HEY that's an idea! Whoa! Simmer down girl.

Some minutes later, Eric returned, looking none the worse for the experience. He was most apologetic. “Sorry I ran off, ladies. So what’s the plan then?"

“Mel, let’s walk around for a while until the lotion dries, then we can swim.”

“Watch our stuff, would you, Eric, please? We’ll take turns, okay?” I said and we started walking. We didn't even give him a chance to reply. Stinkers ain't we?

”I’m not being hard on your brother by wearing this, am I?” Hands up, everyone who thought that bit was dirty.

“It’s a little mean, but only because you both know he’s too young. I’m sure he enjoyed the show you put on.”

“So did I. Let’s strut our stuff, girl.” I put a little extra something into my walk. If my hip sway got any greater I would have fallen down. I glanced back, poor Eric was staring at us -- okay, me. I mouthed 'Forgive me?' then smiled, He looked a lot happier. ~~He must really love me to put up with this. I'd better do something nice for him.~~

* * * *

As we strolled the beach Mel helped finish off coating me with lotion; touching it up here and there. We'd done a good job of applying it earlier but you always miss something. Technically, as a regen, I didn’t need it, but I wanted to set a good example. I made sure she was well protected as well. With her light complexion sunscreen is a must. We walked around for a good twenty minutes or more, checking out the beach and nearby park.

“Joanie, um … about your bikini. That’s one of those postage-stamp suits Mom wouldn’t let me buy, not that I’d be comfortable in public with that little on. It looks good on you, though.”

“It’s not that tiny, there’s at least a book of stamps in this, if you include the straps.” I wasn’t lying, with a normal stamp at roughly one square inch, there was at least ten stamps worth of material covering me … barely. So a book is actually twenty stamps; I'm allowed a little artistic license. And come to think of it, 'less IS more' was never more true than with regards to a good looking woman in a bikini. Am I really that much of a show-off? Don't answer.

The park was slowly filling up, as it was a great day, so we took an occasional glance back at Eric and our stuff. We walked to the far end of the beach and slowly walked back. On the return leg, we were photographed a few times, but nothing too intrusive. The women were less hostile towards me, as I’d made no *play* for their men, but they gave the guys some interesting looks for staring at us -- mostly me, but us.

Mel is pretty, for a woman in her early bloom, and I’m not saying that just because we are friends. I have this feeling, a premonition, she will be a beauty in a few years and remain so for a long time, but then her mom is attractive, even as a pregnant woman in her mid thirties. I know that is not that old, but her dad, Senator Joe, is in terrific shape for sixty plus. If you want to see what a person will look like as they age, look at their parents; really, it works. Factor in Mel's father, Bob, who I think is a major hunk, and odds are that both Mel and Eric will be good-looking adults and stay that way for a long time.

When I could no longer feel any wetness from the sunscreen, I gave Mel the okay to swim, but only if we did it as pairs or if someone watched.

“I see your brother is waiting patiently for us. Have fun, Mel, but always as pairs in the water to be safe. If you do swim, grab me or Eric as your buddy. No swimming alone, okay? You want to go swim with your brother first? We were kinda rude to him earlier."

“Joanie, I like my brother, but I’d rather swim with you first.”

I walked up to Eric and pouted.

“Sorry, Eric. Mel and I are swimming first, so could you watch our stuff, pretty please? I know I've been rude and ignored you, but I plead being a blonde and doing it to please Mel. Don’t worry, you’ll get your … chance.” I fluttered my eyes at him and pouted.

"Oh … all right," He sounded a little disappointed but okay with it.

I smiled then walked away with that extra sway in my hips. Eric shook his head but was grinning. I may tease him, but he knows how I feel about him -- smart kid. How can he be so young yet so grown-up? I feel positively juvenile in his presence. HEY! You didn't need to agree with me so fast *dear* readers.

We waded out into the water; it was a little on the cool side, but much better than when I’d gone swimming during early April in Lake Wisconsin. I surprised Mel by swimming around her, doing surface dives and the like. I never once lost my tiny bikini top or bottom. It did have a rubbery lining that helped it to grip to my skin, so it’s *perch* wasn't as precarious as it appeared. There was a diving/sunning raft 30 yards out, and I just had to try it.

“Are you up to swimming out to the raft, Mel?”

“Sure, Joanie; I'm taking Junior Lifesaving class this summer, with the Red Cross.“

“You're really good then, Mel. Let’s swim side-by-side to be safe, though, 'k'? Buddy system and all that.”

~~When did I get so preachy? Ghods, I'm turning into my mother!~~

We swam, and though I was faster and had to hold back, she wasn’t bad. Heck, I'm an exemplar, so she was doing great, considering. We got there, and this trio of older girls wouldn’t let her on. A pair of lifeguards sat in a rowboat moored at the outer limit of the marked swimming area watching carefully.

“My friend and I want to dive off the raft; could you clear one of the ladders?” Mel asked and very politely too.

“Go away; this raft is reserved for mature girls, not a little kid like you,” said a girl who appeared to be 15 years old and 30 pounds overweight. Her feet dangled in the water, as she sat in the ladder. Though overweight, she was not unattractive; she looked fit, like a beginning weightlifter. She could do Mel serious harm, if she got aggressive. Another of the troublesome trio, a tall, gangly girl, sat tying up the second ladder, and the third, apparently oldest and best-looking girl sunned herself on the raft

“This is park property for everyone to use; it’s not right,” Mel said in protest. This was like my incident with the Omegas, but without Whateley.

“Go away, before we get rough.”

I’d had enough. “Miss, that is a decidedly antisocial and unhealthy attitude you have. It’s not like you ladies couldn’t share the raft with others. Why not do the right thing and avoid unnecessary complications? There is lots of room, after all.” I admit it was a tad pompous, okay a lot pompous, but she pissed me off !

“Why not butt out and save yourself a pounding?” the somewhat chubby girl replied.

“I’m only in town for a couple weeks to visit dear friends, and this is how you treat guests to your fine state?”

“You talk the line, but can you walk the line?” Chubby’s fellow, or is that sister, ladder holder said -- the gangly girl.

"I thought it was ‘Walk the walk,’ and ‘Talk the talk.’” Illiterate! “Hon, that is the sorriest excuse for ghetto-speak I have heard in years. What are you anyway, mostly German and Norwegian in ancestry? Quit trying to pretend you’re *gangsta*; it doesn’t wash. You? African-American? With your pale skin, button nose and dirty blonde hair? Give me a break!”

“Doesn’t matter; what matters is we were here first, Blondie.” The ghetto wanna-be said.

“Them’s fightin’ words! I’m not a blonde, I’m a strawberry blonde, there’s a big difference,” I drawled then giggled. “Mel, should I do the you-know-what on them?” I could see she was getting tired, what with the poor grip she had on the side of the raft.

“The you-know-what, Joanie?”

“A Prairie Du Chien special?” I replied and giggled.

“Oh, like you did for me on Labor Day? Yes, please! This I have to watch.”

“You’re gonna to do a…?” Chubby was silenced as I time stopped everyone on the raft and swam around to Mel. I unfroze her, and we climbed onto the raft from the side; I boosted her up-and-on, and then she helped by pulling me up. We could just reach across the raft and keep touching each other’s hand while getting close behind each of the *ladder* girls.

“Mel, don’t push. Don’t even touch the girl, just say hello.” Mel nodded and I unfroze everyone.

“Prairie Du …whatthehellwasthat?! Where did you …?”

“Hello,” Mel and I said, simultaneously, from right behind the girls, who each immediately panicked and fell in the water. Contestant number three decided discretion was the better part of valor and dove off, saying, “Um, sorry.”

Chubby was clearly the leader, as I had thought. She swam towards the boat at the outer swim markers and complained. “Those girls shoved us into the water. They are troublemakers and should be kicked out of here.”

“What can I do?” A male lifeguard replied.

“You’re a lifeguard! Kick them out and call the cops!”

“I don’t think you would want me to do that. The girls never touched you, and your group was hogging the raft. They asked to share with you, so there is nothing I can do.”

“We were there first, and they pushed.”

“I was watching, too, and the young ladies did nothing wrong.” The woman life guard raised her head and looked at the raft.

“Hi, Mel! I take it this is the young lady you were telling us about in Advanced Swim class all this winter.”

“Yeah, isn’t Joanie great? This is just like how she saved my life, Liz.”

“What the hell?” Ms. Chubby interjected.

“That’s not nice language, Miss. Please, remember this is a public place.”

“So this is your VIP student?” the male lifeguard asked Liz.

“Delighted to meet you, Mel, and you too, Ms. Brown I assume? That’s a neat *trick* you have there. If I hadn’t seen the video of your rescue of Mel last Labor Day I would never have believed it. Please enjoy your stay. Excuse us, but we need to return to duty,” the male lifeguard said.

“Ms. Brown? Who the fuck is she?”

I dove off the raft, almost losing my top, and swam up to Ms. Foul Mouth. “Hi, we weren’t properly introduced. My name is Joan Brown, I’m a student and teacher at a school for mutants out east. I sing professionally, but you can call me Joanie. The charming young lady you gave a hard time to is my good friend, Melissa Johnson; her daddy is the Governor of this State. Let’s start over and let bygones-be-bygones, if that is okay with you and your friends?”

“I … Crap, you really are her. You’re just making fun of us. Why would a rich bitch like you be interested in some girls from a trailer park?”

I let rich and that other word slide for the moment. “Because five teenage girls can have so much more fun than two, and Mel’s brother needs teasing. He’s good looking for fourteen. You’ll have a great time. Want to hang with us?”

“Leave us alone!”

“I’m sorry that’s how you feel. I'm not making fun of you. I bet, if you dropped the hostile act, we could have a lot of fun together. I'm a girl, just like you."

"G-g-go ….!"

"Sorry you feel that way, but the offer still stands. B’bye!”

I swam back to the raft. I was in a good mood and preferred to make friends, not enemies. I do admit to imagining my time-stopping them and stripping off their swimsuits. I’m not totally without a mean streak, and they were mean to Mel. Should anyone actually hurt her, I shudder to think what I might do.

* * * *

Mel and I took turns diving, until I realized we’d been ignoring her dear brother.

“Eric must think we forgot him. Let’s head in, Mel.”

We got to shore and didn’t see him or our towels.

“I can’t see my brother anywhere.”

“I think our stuff was closer to that group of girls over by that big rock, Mel.”

“I think I see him, Joanie.”

He was in the middle of a group of four girls who were either teasing him or coming on shamelessly. I shushed Mel and chose to listen, as we closed in on them.

“So … dump your sister and her friend. If *I* was on the beach, and four hot young women came up to me, I’d spend the day with them.” She spoke in a come-on voice, low and sexy, trying to seduce him.

I hated this girl at once.

“For one, it’s wrong to cut out without even the courtesy of telling them. And for another, my sister’s friend is our ride home.” He spoke matter-of-factly, while looking the girl in the eyes and not her chest -- and to be honest, she had a nice chest. Hey, I used to be a guy from "America's Dairy Land." Deal with it. My Eric's body language suggested he was uncomfortable but was trying to be polite,

From the angle we were approaching, we could see them, but they, Eric and the four girls, could not see us, thus his answers were completely honest. Hey! I trust him, but a girl needs to be reassured every once and a while, and I'm worth it … or will be.

Ghods, did I just write that? Um, where were we? Right …

~~Go, Eric!~~ Let's say I was more than *a little* pleased with how Eric was handling these slu … whor … skan … *forward young women". ~~See, that was easy, Joanie. You didn't once call those f***ing bitches a bad name.~~

“We have a car. Shelly here got her license this April. My parents are out of town for the week. Angie here scored a bottle of her parent’s Jack Daniels, and I have some other fun *stuff*. Four eager babes with their own car, place, drugs and alcohol -- it’s a boy's fantasy. Where do you live?”

I really hated this girl.

“Uh, Terrace Hill.” He sounded very uncomfortable but stayed polite. They were placing him in an awkward situation. Part of me wanted to intervene but most of me wanted to see how this played out. Yes, "I've" got issues. So sue me!

“I knew it, girls; this is the Governor’s son -- Eric, isn’t it? You’re better looking in person than in your photographs, and you were good looking in those. I bet you’re a virgin; all that press scrutiny. We can help *fix* that. Wanna party with some sexy babes, handsome?”

I really, really hated this girl. I was *this* shy of … I took a deep breath then looked at my friend. Mel appeared conflicted, amused at her brother's embarrassment but angry as well. She did not like these girls, period. My opinion of the girls was far lower; my inner bitch was seething. I put my hand on her shoulder and shook my head at her. She nodded back. We waited.

Eric visibly straightened, then spoke in a steady, deliberate tone. “I’m flattered, but no. And it’s not because I’m the Governor’s son. I’m too young to drink, and I’m far too young to be having sex -- not that it isn’t tempting. I’m not even going to comment on the offer of drugs, other than that’s your choice, not mine, ladies. I'm here with my sister and her best friend. I’m responsible for them both, and her friend is my friend too. It wouldn’t be right to run out on them. My sister looks up to me, and her friend …I … I don’t ever want to disappoint either of them, ever.” He smiled, as he finished, still looking them in the eyes.

~~Words like that will get you a big reward someday, Lover.~~ I could hardly contain myself. I was torn between pounding the four bit**'s faces and screwing Eric senseless. Anger and lust are a volatile mix.

Mel's reaction was more subdued, but I could see she was pleased with her brother.

“Last chance, guy. Where are you going to find such good looking girls who are interested in having a good time with you? Why moon over some girl who won’t put out when you can have real women. I can see part of you wants it.”

Eric would have to be a corpse not to have some reaction to four girls in wet swimsuits. I had to admit they were attractive, particularly the one doing the talking. She had to be a cheerleader; she had that bouncy, perky, self-confident -- almost arrogant -- attitude and the looks to go with it. I really, really, really hated this girl.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right. I know this sounds corny, but she is a wonderful girl, and I’m trying to prove I’m worthy of her … friendship.” The way he said ‘friendship’ translated as ‘love’ to my ears. I melted inside.

~~Hon, you just proved it. Damn, if you were only eighteen.~~

Any thoughts I had of beating the crap out of that blatant hussy was overwhelmed by my, um, *admiration* for Eric's actions. It was a good thing my swimsuit was still wet from swimming; I was THAT aroused. I would have jumped his bones there and then if not for my pesky conscience, damn it !

“Think of what you’re turning down!”

“I think he’ll do just fine with us, won’t he, Mel?” Timing is everything, and I wasn’t going to waste this gift.

“And you are…? Crap!”

“You’re the second person to tell me that today. I might have sand on my feet, but I am quite clean otherwise, I assure you.” Eric stared at me, a smile growing on his face. Mel giggled. I think her brother’s stock doubled in her mind today. It had tripled in mine.

“Have the ladies here been giving you a *hard* time, Eric? Sorry, that was naughty. Please forgive me? Mel and I were having too much fun, and I forgot. Mel, your brother deserves something for being so nice.”

I turned and whispered to her. She kissed her brother, and I gave him a hug. Hey, we were in public. The four girls stared at us looking confused.

“You didn’t know, so I’ll forgive you this time. I’m rather fond of Eric and Mel, and I don’t like seeing them hurt. Eric is also seriously underage; he’s fourteen -- you know, jail-bait? So back off.”

“You act like he’s your boyfriend?!”

“He’s a boy, and he’s my friend, as is his sister, so in that sense they are my boy … friend and my girl … friend.” Can I lie or can I lie? I gave both Mel and Eric a quick, one-armed hug. “I’ll give you ladies this, you have good taste in men. Eric is an exceptional young man; it’s a privilege to be his friend. I expect he will be a even more remarkable adult. It's a pity; if you cleaned up your acts, you'd have a chance at someone like him. You all certainly have the looks for it. You just need the *insides* to match. Looks fade eventually, but character shines on. Excuse us, ladies. We need to go.”

Yeah, I know I was dancing with the devil there, all but shouting "Eric is my lover!". Sometimes you just have to … Yeah, I'm an idiot, a love struck one at that.

“Eric! Heel!” Eric moved next to me and held stock still. He looked at me, and I almost broke up as did he. "Come." He walked by my side to the car. It was very hard not to laugh; he had read me so well. Mel giggled which did not help our control at all. ~~Oooh, and he’s house-trained!~~

See how mature I've become? How confident I am as a woman? I defused the situation calmly and rationally, not a hint of jealousy … And if I every catch those skanky bitches hitting on him again, I'll … Note to self: better edit that bit out, later.

* * * *

It was early afternoon, and I felt badly that Eric never got to swim. I wanted to make it up to him. So did Mel; she whispered as much in my ear. Now we all know the saying: 'The quickest way to a man’s heart is though his stomach' … Alright, alright! *Stimulating* a different part of a male’s anatomy gets his attention faster, but I’m talking about his brain. What did you think I was thinking about? Okay, that WOULD work, but remember he’s well under eighteen, and Joanie is no fool. Food it would have to be -- that and a good private cuddle later on. At this stage of the game, that is as racy as our relationship dare get.

We packed up and loaded our gear back in my crew cab. Mel spread out in the back, and Eric stretched out his long sexy legs in the front passenger seat. Did I say sexy legs? Damn it, he has sexy legs; not like I, as a woman, have sexy legs. I mean sexy for a guy; sexy like I am attracted to them. Let me explain. I doubt he’ll ever have one of those muscle-bound, body-builder physiques, and am I glad he won’t. If he is like his dad, he will be tall and athletic, but more like a runner with a firm butt and strong sexy legs. Damn, there are those legs again -- weird. A trim, fit torso, handsome face and eyes that make me want to be his and only his. I want to worship him; I want to drink his … Oooookay, girl, this is getting a tad graphic and years ahead of reality. Calm down … where was I? … He has these sexy legs … Aaaaaah!

I was driving out of the parking lot. “Eric, I’m sorry I forgot, and you never got to swim. That was very selfish of me.” I pouted and acted ever so sorry. I meant it too, mostly. Maybe I AM an actress?

“It’s okay. I had a good time watching the pretty women in sexy swimsuits having fun.”

“Who were they, the damned bitches? I’ll scratch their eyes out!” I shouted.

“I meant you and Mel. There were lots of attractive girls, I admit, but I’m responsible for my pretty sister’s safety -- and you are very pretty, Mel. And no one was anywhere near as hot as you, Joanie.” He was most apologetic. If I had been him I might have gotten some payback. I might have pointed back to one of those skanks … um forward girls, and said she was hot. Or could have pointed at some petite girl with short black hair and A cups, saying how busty blondes were so common. Eric was too much a gentleman for that.

I, however, snickered and quickly pulled off the road as that progressed to a full-out laugh, no way I could drive. “Eric, if you saw the look on your face.” The poor young man looked confused and hurt.

"You mean this was all a joke? That everything we've ever done is just some game for you? The big famous star finds some Iowa hick to make fun of? Someone to use and abuse then dump. I thought you liked me, even loved me, I love you!" He was red faced and crying,

Mel was shocked, I … I was …

~~Oh SHIT! ~~

"I was just having some fun, NO I mean it was all in fun … Crap, I mean …. Oh hell I love you damn it Eric I was just being silly I never meant to hurt …

"What's so freakn' funny all of a sudden?

Eric was laughing uncontrollably. Mel looked at him and she started in.

"I've been had? This was all a-a-a …?" *I* broke up.

"G-g-gotcha!"

Sometime later we'd calmed down to where we could look at each other and not break up.

"I get the message, ease up on the teasing."

"Don't stop being you, I love you as you are but sometimes …"

" …I go too far. Hear you loud and clear. Forgive me?"

He nodded and grinned. "I promise, Eric. I'll back off anytime it starts to bother you. I'll tell you this and it's the Ghod's honest truth. I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell those girls we are a couple. It kills me to have to lie about you. I’d give anything to have told them ‘Back off bitches, this man is MINE!’.” I growled the last bit and Mel laughed.

He looked me in the eyes. “It’s okay; I understand, what with me being so young and everything, we, and particularly you, have to be careful. I know you love me, and that’s enough.” He looked a little disappointed despite putting on a brave face. I was proud he was taking it so maturely. I knew he was hurting; I was hurting too.

“Here, let Doctor Joan cure what’s ailing you.” We were on a quiet road, and inside my truck, so I took a chance.

“Mel, keep a lookout.”

I reached over, pulled him to me, and kissed him square on the lips, hard. After thirty seconds or so, I figured I’d melted his brain to the constancy of maple syrup. The silly grin on his face, when I broke away, told me I’d succeeded.

Problem was *I* didn't want to stop … If his brain was maple syrup, mine was marshmallow cream. I kissed him again savoring him, drinking in his every smell, taste, texture. My heart started racing, I felt flushed, my nipples … I ached for him, I burned, I … NOW, I wanted him NOW. My legs moved apart, I felt the hot wetness between. I let go of him so I could rip off my …

~~WHAT AM I DOING?~~

"Forgive me I almost … I'm sorry, Eric. The trip is a bad idea. If I can't last half a day in your presence, how will I …"

"Joanie, I've seen Mom and Dad kiss longer than that. You both stopped, right?

"Huh, Mel?"

"You're new to being a girl, you probably aren't used to the feelings. You're overreacting. I mean you liked kissing Eric -- liked it a lot; so did he -- but you stopped."

"We did, didn't we, Eric. Were you uncomfortable? Was I coming on too strong?"

"It was fun, lots of fun, but I never felt uncomfortable. We could have done that for hours!"

"Now you're being silly. Eric. How would we eat?"

"I think you are right, Mel. I was just being overemotional. But you do know to tell us when Eric and I get out of line?"

"Sure, but you weren't … much."

"YOU!"

* * * *

It was well past noon. “Let’s go get something to eat. Since I spent so much time with Mel at the beach, why don’t you pick the place, Eric. Your favorite pizza, burger, whatever place; simple or fancy, I don’t care.” And I didn’t -- care that is. Not after that kiss; it cheered me up no end. Cheered me, then confused me, scared me, but in the end cheered me.

* * * *

Eric directed us to a local fast-food place; one of those so common years ago and all but killed off by the mega chains today. It reminded me of Trudy’s, a West Allis favorite of my parents and of mine back when I was a little boy. They even had lots of neon lights and uniformed carhops on roller-skates -- roller-blades now, actually -- just like Trudy’s had back in the sixties.

“They have good burgers, so-so fries, excellent pizza, and the greatest Chicago-style hot dogs. They’re so big, one is a meal even for Dad. Mom gets them on occasion and takes the leftovers home for later. Don’t feel bad if you don’t finish; sometimes I can’t.”

I hesitated. A good *dog* would hit the spot, but the way I ate that last one in the courthouse.… “Okay, Eric, I’ll try your favorite.”

~~I can do this; I just have to use a little restraint. It’s not like I have some oral fixation regarding a certain male appendage. I am a sensual woman, but I am not a cheap slut.~~

Who said, "She lies to herself a lot, doesn't she?" I'm waiting!

That's it, funny boy, bring it on!

I'm a what?! I am not a slut! Sometimes the urges are so strong but I don't … I would never cheat on … I mean, I'm monogamous.

Oh hell! You try being permanently 17, and see if you aren’t all hot and bothered 24/7/365 -- 366 in a leap-year.)

A girl-next-door type rolled up to my truck. “And what would you like to order?” She glanced at me, smiled, then looked down at her order pad.

They still used the little green paper waitress pads here, for authenticity. They could have used wireless PDAs and transmitted directly back to the kitchen, but where’s the fun in that? This way the patrons got to see athletic young women, and a few buff guys, skating back and forth in their tight fitting uniforms placing and delivering the orders. Oh my, yes!

“This is my first time here, but my friend Eric says you have great Chicago-style dogs. Three Chicago Dogs with the works, I think, and root beers or Cokes?”

“I’d get the root beer. They have the old-fashioned kind in those heavy frosted glass mugs.”

“You too, Mel?”

“Yes, Joanie.”

“Okay, that’s three Chicago’s with the works and three large root beers in the glass mugs.”

“That sounds fine.”

“That will be,” she added things quickly on a pad, “Fifteen fifty-six including tax.”

“Here’s twenty,” I said, as I handed a ten and a five to her. She looked at me, I mean REALLY looked at me, and her face went pale. I was afraid she’d faint, but she caught herself in time. “Y-y-yes, Ma’am, I mean, Joanie. I’ll b-bring your change with your order.” She rolled away awkwardly, almost stumbling a couple times.

“She seems to have recognized you.” Mel said nonchalantly. There was a series of LOUD screeches coming from the order windows and her fellow carhops. They all rolled over towards my truck to get a better look. They gave her excited pats on the back and returned to work.

She soon rolled up to my window. “Sorry, Ms. Joanie, they didn’t believe me. Gotta go, your order should be done soon.”

“No biggie,” I called back to her. For the eagle eyed among you., Yes I DID give her only fifteen dollars despite telling her I gave her twenty. Strange, I seem to have that effect on people. You don't think blond is contagious, do you?

BTW, I gave her an additional twenty when she brought the food so I didn't shortchange her, not for long anyway. And after dealing with me she EARNED that tip.

* * * *

To be continued and soon. No really. Would I lie?

John in Wauwatosa

P.S. DON'T answer that!

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)."

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, 2005-2012.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Homophone herding by Holly Hart
Um, that means they proofed it &/or otherwise saved you from me.

Chapter 12, Sitting Pretty, V a c a t i o n

Welllllll, to be honest this is part 2 of chapter 12. Probably 4 or more parts to follow. Don't ask me how many, I only write this stuff!

Various locations in Iowa and Wisconsin, June 03-16, 2007

* * * *

They zipped back and forth in controlled chaos, delivering trays of food and taking orders. Okay, they took the orders first THEN brought the food. Picky, picky, picky. I'm telling the story here, so quit interrupting, Jeese! It was like some strange ballet or roller-derby. Part of me thought back to an old Raquel Welch film, something to do with roller-derby with her on skates in this body hugging... Oooooh, remember that Linda Ronstadt album cover with her on roller skates and those tight short-shorts, made J-Lo look like a boy. ... Okay, I admit this one carhop was really built, miles of legs, a great ass and pert, yet generous, brea ... She wasn't built quite to my current standard -- who is? -- but the 13 year-old boy in the back of my mind was drooling. Then he, my inner pervert, the um 13 year old boy, imagined me on roller skates and this tiny Lycra-Spandex bikini and got very confused. Lusting for yourself is a bitch.

She came back with our *dogs*, the root beer in frosty glass mugs, and my change all on a rubber meshy thing-lined aluminum tray that hung on the edge of my window. We ate, and I managed to avoid acting the tease; it wasn’t easy mind you.

~~No need to be embarrassed, Joanie; it’s a hotdog, it’s not his …~~ This would not be easy in my state of mind. I tried eating the dog sort of sideways, but that proved messy.

Eric laughed. “Joanie, that’s funny.”

I tried breaking it into bits and eating it that way. That was very messy without utensils, and these dogs were loaded with fixings. I noticed Mel and Eric ate theirs holding its cardboard *basket* close beneath it.

“Yeah, Joanie. Why are you eating it sideways and picking at it and not simply biting off the end?” Mel asked.

“Hon, if you have to ask why, I am very relieved.”

“Eat it the regular way, Joanie. You’re cracking me up.”

“Okay, Eric, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I started to eat it the normal way, starting from one end, but was soon licking the end and sucking on it to keep all those toppings from falling off. I eased off for a moment to lick my lips clean and sip some of the old-fashioned root beer. I must admit it wasn’t entirely my subconscious *frustrations* driving my more outrageous actions. I did vamp it deliberately. I didn’t exactly deep-throat my unfortunately phallic meal, but I mimed it, sort of. By the time I finished, Eric was blushing but remained quiet. Mel heroically managed to not laugh, though it was a close thing. I guess the root beer was too good to waste snorting out her nose.

We put our trash and empty mugs back on the tray, along with a generous tip. Our car hop noticed we were done and hustled over. She picked up our tray full of empty root beer mugs and our trash, after pocking the tip in her apron. “Thank you, and please come back someday.” She was grinning, then she saw I'd autographed the bill and attached a signed publicity photo with the words "Best damned hotdog I ever had! Love, Joanie. P.S. Could I be a carhop here?"

"The owner will have a heart attack when he sees this," she called back to us as she rolled away; it was a big tip, but she’d been a good waitress.

We drove off with our bellies full and then some.

* * * *

I was impressed by Eric’s restraint, given my blatant display; even at fourteen, he had to know what I was insinuating. He said nothing, but as we exited the parking lot he whispered to me, “Eating a hotdog the usual way reminded you of, um … you know …”

Since we were safely on the road, we could speak freely again. “Yeah, you should have seen the look on the bailiff's face when I ate one while on jury duty."

Mel snickered, LOUDLY.

"It was a hot dog; I ate a hot ... dog, Mel," I growled. She laughed in reply. Eric stayed quiet. I laughed nervously.

"Sorry I teased you, but it’s so frustrating, this waiting for you, Eric, and you are awfully forgiving of my antics.”

“You only tease me because you like me. I don’t mind.”

“Like is not the word. If you were old enough, Sara would not be the only pregnant woman about to marry into the Johnson-Williams family.” ~~And you’d be in a coma from sexual exhaustion, IF you survived~~ If I was wound any tighter, I would have imploded.

“Oh!” Eric was shocked but recovered quickly. “I understand better than you think.” Then he did something unexpected. It was just a hand gently stroking my thigh a few times as we drove along. There was nothing overtly sexual about it, but the longing in that brief gesture spoke volumes.

I felt desired, protected and all tingly in a pleasant way. ~~Ghod, he knows me better than myself.~~ I daydreamed of making love to Eric -- not a good thing while driving. Then all my dreams came crashing down to Earth.

“Would you two stop getting mushy? Yuck!” Mel said loudly, then she giggled.

“Ghods, I told you to keep Eric and me on the straight and narrow, but do you have to enjoy it so much, Mel?”

“Yes!”

* * * *

Mel and Eric had me drive around town, as they pointed out various landmarks and favorite places of theirs. We finally stopped by Terrace Hill to change our clothes then drove off for Mel’s Joanie Fan Club duties. Eric tagged along “to keep me from falling into the evil clutches of Mel’s girl gang,” or so he claimed.

“I wish to point out I am a girl, too.”

“Joanie, you are a woman; there is a big difference.” He pointed at my …um, girls... twin towers... breasts, okay? Well, I mean, they were hanging out right in front, so-to-speak. It wasn’t like it was deliberate on his part. I think. We both broke up.

“Boys!” Mel exclaimed, and that summed it up nicely, I thought.

* * * *

We drove over to Lisa’s house where the local server for the fan club was located. We arrived with time to spare for the four o’clock chat.

“Lees? I’m here. Can you use some help today? I brought a guest along, and she’s an expert on everything Joanie. She knows more about her than anyone.” Mel fought hard not to giggle. I was impressed. “I have a feeling the chat lines will be swamped today.”

“Sure, Mel, the rest of us are waiting for you in the computer room. What took you so long? Anything you want to tell us a….” Lisa saw me and screamed; the other girls came running.

“Girls, I know Mel's brother Eric’s a hunk, but isn’t this a bit much? … Oh, you’re excited about me?” I gave them all hugs, then giggled; the girls calmed some.

Lisa, Julie, Debbie, Kim and Chrissie I remembered from the November sleep in. Two of the nine girls at the sleep in — that’s if we’re counting Mel and Babs — couldn’t make for various reasons, though I was told they usually participated. Since we’re counting Babs, then three didn’t make it, happy all you math majors? They -- the girls who didn’t make it -- were in for a surprise. All the girls were noticeably more mature both physically and mentally. Then they were at the age where girls mature much faster than the boys. In a few years the boys come roaring back, as evidenced by Eric. They clearly were having fun with helping run the fan club and web site, but they were serious about it. Okay, they were a bit giggly and excitable when I showed up, but then I was happy to be there too.

Maybe it was bias on my part, as Mel’s friend and protector, but she seemed to have matured more than any in the group. She was eleven going on sixteen, in my eyes. She was a skinny, not-yet-eleven-year-old when we met in the middle of that busy highway in Prairie Du Chien. From what I gathered later, she was just entering puberty then, not even in a training bra. By the November sleep over, she was filling a training bra amply and almost an A cup -- or so she claimed. I remember her saying the next time I saw her, when I was in Iowa for the Valentine’s Day dance, ‘I’m 5 foot 7 -- almost 5 foot 8, I weigh 98 pounds, and I’m almost a B cup.’ Oh, and she said that she had just completed her first menstruation and was ecstatic she was now a woman or words to that effect. Mind you she talks fast, almost as fast as me, so I didn't catch everything she said. What I most remembered was her enthusiasm.

~~I had last seen her this Easter weekend, and she looked even lovelier, but now -- Wow! Thinking back on her in that bikini earlier today, I thought she looked a full B cup and maybe a little taller than the last time. And she most definitely has an ass -- a cute one; Mel is no little girl from behind now.~~

I was shocked at how fast she was changing. I was also shocked it took this long for it to sink in, but then we were with Eric, and he had matured as much and in all the right places to my way of thinking. I guess my attention was elsewhere when we were at the beach. But then as Madeline Kahn said on *seeing* the Monster: ‘Woof!’ I admit I’m exaggerating, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

The Warner Records people had provided the girls a roomful of computers, headsets, web cameras and the like, in addition to setting up servers and anything else to support the fan club. They even provided filtering from the kooks and nutcases. All the email, voice mails and such went through hardware firewalls, sophisticated filtering software and had live technicians monitoring it all ready to act as needed, particularly on the chat days. The privacy of their full names and home addresses were assured. If anyone tried to trace them down they'd dead end at a secure proxy server in Culver City California, not Des Moines Iowa, It was common knowledge the fan club was HQ'd in Iowa, and the Governor's daughter was one of them, but any other personal data was strictly under lock and key. The girls got me on-line and ready to have some fun, I hoped.

Lisa started the official chat.

Lisa_IA96>>”The chat is officially open.”

Moments later, text messages came in.

Eve_loves_ponies>>”Will Joanie do any concerts this summer?”

Jeramae_95>>”Yeah, is she touring? I’d love to see her in concert.”

We got a bunch more messages just like that one. The girls looked and me and started snickering.

I grinned back at them and said, “Okay, I’ll answer them.”

Joan_1957>> “Joanie is not planning on touring. After the attack at her record premier, last Halloween, she is concerned for the safety of her fans. BUT she will perform in public several times this summer.”

That got a chorus of “where, when?”

Joan_1957>> Unfortunately, there will be little advance notice, again for the safety of her fans, but it will be on television. Most likely she will perform in mid-July and again in late August.”

There was speculation of where and when, until someone asked THE question.

Billie_3_Bamma>>”How do you know her schedule?”

Joan_1957>>”I know her schedule intimately, though it is still in a state of flux, i.e. it is not fully set. In reverse order, she has promised a major TV show to perform for them in late summer. The date is to be determined, but will most likely be in very late August. In early August, she will be with her friends in Iowa as the Governor’s wife gives birth. July is Summer school, and she will be busy teaching, though she will appear on a TV special. The latter half of June she'll be in Wales -- as in England -- for filming of a TV series; she’s a guest star in a long running show. The first half of June, she is visiting friends in the Midwest, and today *I* am answering questions with Mel and her friends at *my* fan club. THAT’s how I know.”

“You’re Joanie???!!” or the like, poured in, more like avalanched in for the next few minutes. I think if I had opened the window I would have heard them squealing with excitement.

We turned on the web cameras so the fans could see me and turned on the sound. This took a lot of bandwidth. To be fair to all the chatters, we didn’t do it for long, but we promised the video clip would stay up on the site for a while. I had fun with the camera though.

“Hi! Joanie here. I didn’t expect to be on the chat today, but Mel told me how much fun her friends have doing this, so I had to come along. I wish you a safe and happy summer and ‘be excellent to each other.’” I paused for a moment. “What, none of you has watched Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure? It’s practically a film classic! Well, it and Citizen Kane.” I giggled, and my fan club fanatics gave me a big hug on camera. We turned the cameras off, except for occasional still frames of me, to free up bandwidth; we’d gotten notice from our Warner's techie angels we were almost out of capacity. Once the kids knew I was on, they called friends, who texted friends, who IM’d others, and the lines went crazy. Who said 'Went crazy? You're already there.' Fess up, who? One more crack like that and I am, like soooo out of here!

We all answered as many questions, public and private, as we could in the time available. Mel and the girls had amassed a fact book on me with help from Warner, so many of the questions they could answer on their own. It, of course, left out any details dangerous to my family or me, but it was all true. Lies can bite you in the butt, after all. And nobody bites ME in the butt unless I want them too ... 'cept maybe Eric. Ooooooh harder baby, har... Um , where was I? Any *lies* were lies of omission. A couple broadcast stations tried to get online, but the way they asked questions was a tip off. I private-chatted back to the two who tried.

Joan_1957>> “baby6blue, you’re a reporter aren’t you?”

baby6blue>>”How did you guess?”

Joan_1957>>”Most of the chatters are teens and adolescents. You came off too mature, and your spelling was much better -- better than mine. I tell you what; I’ll do an interview sometime in the next few days, if you behave. It’s okay to follow the chat and report on it, but this is for the kids to have harmless fun, so back off. What’s your phone at the station?”

baby6blue>> “Mine? I’m an intern here. I do fluff pieces and gofer work to earn work-study credit at the local Vo-Tech school. I’m on-line researching you and the fan club for one of the full-time, on-air talents.”

Joan-1957>>”Tell your supervisor-slash-on-air talent -- tell the station manager for that matter -- I will do a full hour interview they can use as they like, but only if *you* interview me. I’ll throw a few bones his or her way, but I want you to get the lion’s share of the credit and the on-air time. Deal?”

We made a deal. The other journalist was an online entertainment blogger/e-zine person. I PM’d Warner, and they said this person was legit and respected. I sent them a proposal based on Warner's advice, and they agreed to listen in quietly and not disturb the chat, if I private chatted with them later.

“Joanie, I have a strange one here. They private chatted me saying they knew you and asked if would you chat.” It was one of Mel’s gal pals from the sleepover, Kim maybe?

“You think they are on the level?”

“Mel never tells us much about your school, for your safety, but the person mentioned a Miki and her being very upset about missing Meerkat Manor due to a power outage.”

Okay, dear d/j/w, you’re asking yourself, “A power outage at Whateley?” Well, yeah, it’s all those energizers. The data network is a bitch to keep up for any length of time, and even the power has partially blown out, at least in individual buildings. They all have backup generators for critical systems and the medical needs of certain staff and students. ~~All it need be is a half hour to an hour outage, or a series of outages covering much of that time, to make Miki miss her show. I’m sure I’ll get the details next time I’m back on campus. If Miki ever figures who, if anyone, was responsible for it … the mind boggles. I suppose I'll have to get one of those uninterruptable powers supplies for her TV now.~~

Enough on that subject, folks, it’s time I get back to the on-line chat. “What was their sigline?” I asked.

“Pink_shift.”

“That's one of my school friends, no ifs, ands, or doubts about it.”

I know, some of you dear d/j/whatever readers are thinking, 'But Warner has all these techies monitoring the lines and stuff and they're gonna find out about your Whateley friends and ...'

A good question that deserves a good answer, but a woman needs to keep some secrets to maintain her allure. It gives one an air of mystery and mature sophistication. Thus I'm not giving an answer ... so there! Plubulbulbulbpt!

Joan_1957 to Pink_shift>>”Pink_shift, how’s everything back at school? And I LOVE the sig, Pinky.”

Pink_shift to Joan_1957>>”Miki misses you already, complains she should be with you, and is eating like a furry pig. The *kitties* are being good and are very protective of Miki. I think they sense she is *with child*. They keep bringing her toys and tidbits of food and things. It’s sweet. We talked with Mr. King about getting instruments for our own practice hall, and he is working up a list of models and suppliers. He thinks he can get us a discount but suggests we contact your producer and see what he might do.”

Joan_1957 to Pink_shift>>” I’ll send Mr. Karaoke a message to contact you and see if he can help. I’m proud of you all for following though on this. Practice hard, have fun, and if you do well I’ll let the gang ask a favor of me. I‘ll do anything within reason, even if it’s embarrassing.”

Pink_shift>>”Understand. Embarrassing. Perfect. We miss you but will keep in touch. If they are still friends, tell Eric’s pal I remember him; if he is interested, you can give him my email address. I still think of him and those kisses back that Easter weekend. Speaking of Eric, how is lover-boy?”

Joan-1957>>”Like a wild stallion. Got to go, bye.” I broke our private chat. Pinky’s sig came up next in the main chat room.

Pink_shift>>”Aaaaaah! That was mean, Joanie, and tell him hi for me. Oh, isn't that spelled 'Wyld Stallyns'? I have a few friends with me …” After a minute or so, I realized nearly the whole of the Sabers were online via Pinky’s connection. Pinky's Bill and Ted reference went right over my head ... until later.

Joan_1957>>”Everybody, the various persons typing as Pink_shift are, in fact, several school friends of mine sharing one computer. They can tell you what it is like to go to school and hang around with me. And if they know what’s good for them, they will lie through their teeth!”

I decline at this point to go into detail about the chat, as my so-called friends turned on me and spewed the most outlandish tales about me; unfortunately, it was all true. By the time they were done, I sounded like a saint, albeit a sexy one.. They said so many nice things about me, I almost cried. I also fear what Pinkie’s reply of ‘Understand. Embarrassing. Perfect,’ means. They must want me to do something wild to go through all that sucking up.

~~ After posing naked for Playboy, I find it hard to imagine anything that would embarrass me. Then again, Pinky and the gang are very clever. They might come up with something. I guess I’ll find out the hard way. Me and my big mouth.~~

When the main session ended, I chatted with that e-zine/blogger. She was polite, knowledgeable and asked thoughtful questions; obviously, she would never be successful on a major commercial network.

Speaking of *networks*, you're still wondering about our security? I maybe a near blonde but I'm nobody's fool. The link back to my school friends in New Hampshire was very special and extra secure as it was routed though a system Whateley used. Descriptions like byzantine, amorphous or complicated do not do it justice, Our in-house techies, Whateley's, that is, designed it. DARPA envied what we had.

* * * *

The girls took turns getting their picture taken with me, in addition to several group photos. Lisa’s mom had a digital camera and promised to email everyone copies -- myself included. It was supper time when we got back to Terrace Hill. Babs had relented; my rant at her for cooking up a storm for me must have got to her, and she'd ordered in Chinese. It was just the thing for a hungry mutant girl, and I had fun learning, or trying to learn, how to use chopsticks. They were all proficient; I had never learned. I kind of got the hang of it, I am an exemplar after all, but there was this one time.…

“I think I’m getting this … Oooops!” A piece of sesame chicken, dripping with sauce, had slipped out of my sticks and down into my cleavage.

“I’ll get that,” Eric called out and reached out with his chopsticks. To be honest, he started to reach out with his bare hand, but thought better of it. A tiny piece of my mind was disappointed. Not in Eric’s momentary weakness, but that he didn't follow through with a hand down my blouse and whatever else was a logical consequence of feeling me up -- or would that be feeling me down? But then I am a touchy-feely girl.

I covered myself up like I was naked, and the table broke into laughter. My face turned crimson -- I saw myself in a mirror. I ran to a bathroom and cleaned up.

“Joanie, I was only trying to help.”

“Eric, that kind of help is only allowed after we are engaged; got it?” Now he blushed. “Eric, remember I was a boy; I know how their filthy minds work. And bless you for it.” He blushed even worse, and Mel snorted milk out her nose. “Can’t anyone here be serious for once?”

I never expected the Governor and Babs to start a food fight. Naturally, THEY won. They ganged up on me. They pork fried-riced me back to the Stone Age.

* * * *

We cleaned up the kitchen and ourselves -- it took a while. After a good long shower, I dressed, and we talked late into the evening.

“I don’t think I’d recommend it on a regular basis, but that sweet and sour sauce someone … *Bob* … rubbed into my hair left it extra silky and shiny. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” I tossed my head like they do in those shampoo commercials.

“Huh?”

“Eric, I think Joanie was aping an old Pantene advert.”

“Joanie, you look better than that actress from Weird Science ever did.”

“Bob, you think I’m that sexy?” ~~Wow! He thinks I’m hotter than Kelly Le Brock was? That IS sexy.~~ “But what will Babs say?”

“I’m willing to share the two of you,” then she laughed.

“Sis! Now cut that out!”

“Honey, my back is sore; can I have a back rub tonight, please?”

The way she said ‘please’ got Bob's immediate attention.

“Hon, it’s ’may I have a back rub’ and you certainly may. I think we should give the kids some time alone, and you do look tired. It’s time us old fogies went to our room … for your back rub, Ms. Bunny.” He took her hand, helped her to her feet and led her lovingly from the room. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, its hand resting on….~~Is he fondling her ass? The dirty old man.~~ Propriety prevents me from mentioning where Babs’ free hand was wandering as they passed out of the room. Thankfully their children could not see where her hand ended up, but I could. ~~Dirty old man? He’s positively saintly by comparison with Babs. ~~

“Dad took Mom off to bed early ’cause she needs a lot of sleep at this stage of her pregnancy,” Mel explained.

I suspected something else, what with Bob acting like an oversexed teenager. Babs was worse, that naughty hand of hers in his pants confirmed my *suspicions*.

~~Oh you minx! They say a woman’s libido is higher than usual after the first few months of pregnancy, and only the physical discomforts of late pregnancy interfere with that desire. Poor Bob! Babs is going to kill you, but what a way to go! … Am I that envious of Babs and her pregnancy? You BET!~~

Eric had an early morning exam -- 8 o’clock -- so he went to bed around ten. Mel *dragged* me off to her room and showed me the latest acquisitions to her Joanie collection before we went to our respective beds.

“This is the very latest addition, Joanie.” It was an HD-DVD box-set of the Hawaii concert. The back cover was a picture of the Waikiki band shell and a sea of humanity surrounding it. The front cover featured a lone, long-haired woman, standing at the front of the band shell stage, singing. I was struck by how lovely she was. This woman was smokin' hot, and she was me.

“Already? They sure marketed this one fast.” It was the show recorded at Waikiki, full and complete with extras from the rehearsals and my news interview.

I noticed her copy had a small note inside. “To Joanie’s number one fan, from Jay. Enjoy, and tell Joanie thanks from me.”

“That was nice of Jay.”

“Sure was; it’s $49.99 in the stores, and it sold out in a day. He knew about me from the news. Mr. Karaoke gave him my address after calling my parents for their okay. You sure sang pretty at the concert. Um, Joanie, can we have a sleep over again?”

“I don’t know, with your mom and all....”

“I’ll ask Lisa and the girls at school, tomorrow; maybe her mom will allow it at her house. The chat session went well, so I think she’ll agree to it.” She gave me a big hug and sent me off to bed. “You get your beauty rest, young lady. tomorrow's a school day.”

“Yes, Ma’am … Hey, wait a minute, you’re the one with school tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Mel!”

I had the strangest dream that night, This studly red-haired young man was licking sweet and sour sauce off me while these two familiar looking guys played electric guitar backed by two babe-ilicious young women on keyboards and drums. There was this big graffiti style logo behind them...

~~ Wyld Stallyns?!~~

No way!

* * * *

Monday June 04, 2007

I woke to the sounds of a Governor's aide helping the kids get ready for school. I quickly dressed in something tasteful -- alright, it showed a lot of skin, but it’s June and hot out, honest -- and hurried to the kitchen.

“Can I help?”

“Ms. Brown, Joanie, I didn’t know you were here.” It was a woman who sometimes manned -- a woman manning something; strange -- the switchboard in the mansion.

“I’m here for two weeks. How may I help?”

“Anything, everything; this being the last week of school, the children’s schedules are changed.”

“I have my crew cab; I can take them to and from school or run family errands. I want to give Babs and Bob a break.”

“You’re a guest, Joanie; you don’t need to,” Babs said waddling into the kitchen seating area. Bob was escorting her and looked exhausted but happy.

“I want to, as my gift to you and Bob, so lump it.” I stuck out my tongue.

There was no arguing with me, as I pulled out all the stops; and let’s face it, men are basically lazy -- even the best of them. So, ten minutes later, I was driving my friends to school. Eric had an earlier start, as a middle-schooler, so he got dropped first. Kids were standing outside waiting for the doors to open. I parked in the loading zone and got out to send him on his way.

“Now be good, and no fighting with the other boys and girls,” I said and laughed. In the meantime, Mel got out so she could move up front.

“Okay … Um, Mommy? I‘m out at 3:05.”

I laughed. “3:05, I got it, Son.” I gave him a big smile, a hug and a brief kiss. Several of his classmates shrieked. ~~Oops!~~ That was not strictly my true internal voice at that moment. I know I’m hemming and hawing, but someday my children may read this. I don’t want them to know Mommy can swear like a longshoreman -- an angry, drunken longshoreman with a thesaurus.

I whispered to Mel, and she gave him a hug and a kiss too. ~~That will confuse them. I have to be more careful in public with Eric.~~ I watched him as he walked towards the building. My eyes were drawn to his tight, firm … “Damn, I thought my hands were low during that hug. I think I squeezed his ass. Ghod, but he looks hot. Ghods, did I say that out loud?”

”’Fraid so, Joanie, but no one else heard you.”

“Thank goodness, Mel!”

She giggled in response.

I snapped out of it, opened the door for Mel, and helped her into the front seat. I *bounced* my way back to the driver’s side of the truck to the amazement of the other teens.

“Lead on, Mel!” I said with an exaggerated bow and wave of an arm to my amused BFF.

She giggled then gave me directions to her school. We soon arrived, and I parked.

“Eric gets out at 3:05; I’m done at 3:25, Joanie.”

“What, you don’t walk home either? It’s only three miles! When I was your age I walked twenty miles through the snow dodging tyrannosaurs all the way.”

“Joanie, stop teasing.”

"To be honest, no tyrannosaurs, just the occasional smilodon, but dodging those glaciers was a bitch. They may be slow but they are persistent."

"JOANIE!"

“Okay, stop using those kitten/puppy-in-the-rain eyes on me. It was less than half a mile on concrete sidewalks and all on quiet side streets. Satisfied now? Mel, I’m spending some time with your mom today, but I’ll pick you up. Got it?”

She got it, if I interpreted that monster hug of hers right.

* * * *

I made excellent time and was soon back at Terrace Hill. Babs was dressed and ready -- as ready as a very pregnant woman can be.

“Okay, Sis, what do you want to do today? Shop, eat out, beauty salon — not that you need it, gorgeous -- go for a ride in the country? Or is hanging around with me all you could ask for? We could always go to a local college and trawl for hot undergrads,” I cooed and fluttered my eyelashes.

Babs exploded in giggles; I brought out the teenager in her. “You’re not that exciting, little sister, though the trawling for guys sounds fun. I could do with a trim but no perm, hair coloring or anything with harsh chemicals. I’m being extra careful with my twins.”

“You have a favorite hair dresser? Call and see if she has an open slot this morning, Babs.”

“You want an appointment too? Maybe get a new look?”

“Hon, last summer I got one hell of a new look, plus if I cut this hair, Eric would kill me. Maybe a manicure or pedicure would be nice or a new style of makeup? What about after?”

“It’s in a mini-mall, and they have a nice Greek family restaurant.”

“It’s a date.”

“Let me call.” Babs dialed. “Maria, it’s Mrs. Johnson … yes, Babs. I need a trim badly, but nothing else because of my pregnancy; the chemicals, you know. I also have a friend visiting; she could use a manicure, pedicure and a makeover. I tried to persuade her to get a new cut, but her boyfriend might object … great, we’ll be over right away.

“Let’s go.”

“Do we need a State Trooper with us?”

“Not really, but one will watch us from an unmarked car just in case. We could try and ditch our tail. It drives them crazy.”

“That’s wicked, Babs! We’ll see.”

* * * *

We drove in my truck, after I assured her personal security team it had better armor than some tanks. They had misgivings.

“Ms Brown.”

“Joanie, please.” The officer was new and had never met me.

“I understand you have some training and experience in law enforcement and participated in an actual rescue from a siege situation.”

“Yes, I’m on the security staff at Whateley, and I’m in the National Guard as a police technical specialist. The rescue, ah, you must mean the island of Maui.”

“Yes, Joanie, though I would feel happier if you were armed, given Ms Johnson’s …”

“Babs, please.”

“Babs’s current vulnerability.”

“I have some training in firearms, but I prefer to talk my way out. I have used Tazers, but that was on two foolish and dangerous individuals at the school. That was only after they had assaulted a security officer, putting her in the hospital, and resisted arrest.” That officer being me, duh, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I understand, but politicians and their families are targets these days. For her safety, I respectfully request you carry a weapon. We can use your National Guard status to issue you an emergency concealed-carry permit.”

“If I must. Babs, what do you think?”

“I say ‘saddle up … Pilgrim.’”

“That is the worst John Wayne, but then he was from Winterset, Iowa, so what the heck. Officer, I needs me some-a them-thar shootin’ I-rons.”

They fixed me up with a so-called baby Glock, a small but serious semiautomatic pistol. I would have preferred a Tazer, but they believed it was necessary, so I deferred to their judgment. They offered me a shoulder holster that, given my build, made the gun all but disappear, if I wore a woman’s blazer. Except it was in the seventies and going up fast, and I was not going to dress like it was fifty out. I was in a modified Daisy Duke outfit -- a summer blouse tied off below my breasts, and women’s summer hiking shorts instead of the short-short jean cut-offs. Running shoes were reasonably cool and safer than sandals for driving. We settled on a shoulder bag with a built in holster, and we were off.

WHAT! Who said that? I can wait all day you know. I'll admit I have a, um impressive pair of ... well breasts but hide an M16 in there? Be fair! Though on second thought, if you broke it down and removed the stock...

* * * *

The mini-mall was a converted, old-fashioned department store and very ornate. We parked in a nearby municipal lot and walked to the building. The State Patrol officer parked where she had a good view of us. The building was well air-conditioned and comfortable, which I’m sure Babs appreciated.

“Sorry we took a little long, Betty. My security detail got fussy with me.” Babs spoke to her hairdresser, while I looked back at our *tail*.

“It’s slow day, Babs; no problem. This must be your friend, I can see why her boyfriend doesn’t want her to cut that hair, it’s gorgeous. It would be a shame to cut your hair, Ma’am, it’s so silky and must have taken years to grow that long. Please, have a seat, Ms...?”

I turned, and the poor woman almost collapsed. “It’s Joan, but call me Joanie.”

She took a deep breath. “Crystal, come up front; you have a customer, nails and makeup.”

A short and slender young woman, no more than 25, in contrast to Betty’s tall athletic forty-something, came out with a cart of supplies.

“And what exactly did you … Holy Crap!”

“Babs' twins are not contagious, Crystal, if that’s why you exclaimed there. I could use my nails done, as it is summer and sandal time, plus I’m always looking for a makeup style that makes me appear a little older. I’ve already done the hell-for—leather look and the Playboy model glamour look. Thank Ghod they don't use staples anymore." I giggled. "I need something more … cute coed ... wholesome hottie-ish? Can you fix me up?”

“Me?”

“Babs swears by this place, so yeah, you, Crystal.”

“One minute!” She ran in back and came out with a binder full of magazine clippings and what looked a lot like a paint sample card. I spent a lot of time in hardware stores as a child. “This is such an honor!”

“Calm down, I don’t want you passing out on me. I’m no expert on these things, so take your best shot, but let me know before you do anything, Crystal.”

She flipped through her binder, stopping on several pages, and occasionally scrunching her face. After a few minutes there was this *ah-hah!* look on her face. “What do you think of this?”

She showed me a picture of Nicole Kidman from a few years back that was stunning. "Is this from the film Practical Magic?

“I think you’re right, Ms Bro ... Joanie. She’s enough like you in color and general build I thought it might work for you. I realize her hair is redder, and she’s not near as developed on top, but then you are not the typical woman.”

“Yeah, sometimes I think I’m a Barbie doll brought to life. Babs, what do you think of this makeup and nail scheme?”

“Oooh, that is *you* Joanie. Go for it!”

Oh, and as a concession to Babs' concerns, Crystal did my nails as far away from her and as near to an exhaust fan as practical.

* * * *

An hour or so later they finished, and Babs was gushing with compliments. “That is you, girrrl. I wish I looked half that good.”

“This coming from the cover-girl of People Magazine? Look, you’re on this month's issue.”

“I’m on the cover?”

I held up so she could see it. I’d noticed it while waiting for my toenails to dry. According to the article inside, she was at a school giving a talk about respecting the rights of others, regardless of race, sex and such. The Johnsons had a long-standing reputation for that, which explained why they were so kindly towards my mutant friends and me. It was a flattering photo; Babs looked radiant. I mean it, too. Pregnancy looks good on her, and I told her so.

“I look fat!”

“You look pregnant, healthy and sexy.”

“I look like that silhouette from the credits of Alfred Hitchcock Presents.”

“You must be older than you look, Grandma. Plus you have way better boobs than he did. Don't hit me!”

“Joanie! That’s mean. I think you own me lunch … after I treat you to an outfit to go with that makeover.”

“Babs, I can pay for my own,” I whispered. “Hell, I could pay for most of your state budget.”

“A gift from Big Sis to Little Sis?”

“That’s low, dirty blow. I can see you’re a politician’s daughter. You’re on.” I got an idea. “Babs, what about a vintage clothing store? Since, as Crystal said, I am not the typical woman, maybe something not so modern, but classy, might suit me better.”

“A treasure hunt! I like.”

“Betty, any suggestions for a great vintage clothing store? Something that might carry fashions suitable for my leggy friend?"

“I don’t shop at such stores much myself, Babs, but the area near the university has several decent shops.”

“I know this great store; my roommate works there.” Crystal gave us the store's name, and Betty agreed it had a good reputation.

”What’s your roommate's name so we can get her the commission or a tip if they don’t use commission?” I asked.

“Billie, um … You should know Billie is … she was my brother and is transitioning. You won’t be offended?”

“Crystal, I was a guy less than a year ago. I’m sure she’s a great girl, just in need of a little medical help.”

“One of my college friends was a lesbian. We’re still in touch. So long as she’s professional and knows her merchandise, I have no qualms.” Babs assured her.

“Can I take them over to the store? It's hard to find. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, Betty.”

“Get us each a cup at the coffee shop on the corner on the way back and I’m happy.”

* * * *

break part 2 here

Um, that means this is the end of part 2 of chapter 12. More will follow soon. REALLY

John in Wauwatosa

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction, chapter 12 part 3

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)."
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, 2005-201208.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4, chapter 12

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Homonymphone herding by Holly Hart
Um, that means they proofed it &/or otherwise saved you from me.

Chapter 12, part 3 of ?

Sitting Pretty, V a c a t i o n

Various locations in Iowa and Wisconsin, June 03-16, 2007

Monday June 04, 2007

* * * *

We drove for a mile or so, following Crystal in her small SUV, and got to a shopping district that reminded me of State Street in Madison, Wisconsin.

We entered the store, and a thirty-ish woman with several prominent tattoos and piercings welcomed us. She had a biker-chick look to her but appeared well groomed. “Crystal, what are you doing...? Oh! Mrs. Johnson, what a pleasure to have you in my establishment. I recognize you from the news and People Magazine. We don’t have a lot of maternity fashions, but I’m sure we can find something in a large size and tailor it for you; we do that on-site.

“I’m forgetting my manners. I’m Nicole and your friend here is … You look just like that singer Joanie, Ms...?

“Joan Brown, but you can call me Joanie.” The shop owner managed to not quite do an impression of a goldfish, but it was a near thing … And if anyone says she was floundering, I'm trout of here.

“Nicole, I was hoping Billie could get some extra commission today. She needs the money for ... you know, and she’s a good worker.”

“I understand, Crystal.” Nicole, the biker chick, pressed an intercom button.

“Billie, I need you up front, please.”

“I’m on my way, Nicole.”

A woman of average height and slight build walked out from the back room. Since I knew she was in transition, I noticed several signs she was not genetically a woman, but they were subtle. She would never be pretty, she didn’t have that kind of face, but she would be a handsome woman. I felt sad that she had to suffer to become what her mind long knew she was; I think I’ve become more sensitive to people’s feelings since my mutation or maybe it’s the hormones. Okay, that was a bad male chauvinist joke, but the male part of my mind needs an occasional bit of fun.

“Crys, it’s so nice to see you.” Her voice was not bad, a bit low but feminine. I began to suspect she started her transitioning very young.

“Billie, this is Babs Johnson, the wife of our governor, and her friend Joanie Brown. You may have heard of her.” She laughed and so did her *sister*. “They are looking for something special to suit their figures. They asked specifically for you.”

“I'll leave you ladies to Billie’s expertise. If you need anything, I’ll be up front.” Nicole excused herself. Crystal said her goodbyes soon after.

“I’ll need your measurements and some idea of what you are looking for: day wear, fancy dress, evening wear, something to impress your sweetie?”

Babs exploded in giggles. “I think my current condition proves my sweetie is happy, and if my friend here gets any sexier, men will explode.”

“Never mind her; everyone in that family is insane, that’s why I fit in so well.” Babs and I giggled like idiots.

“This will be a looong day.”

“Nah, Babs and I are easy to serve. Now bark like a dog and lick our boots, peon.”

Babs took one look at me, and we broke up again.

* * * *

It took a lot of looking and trying on things before she found it. Okay *it* was several outfits, but when Babs saw them, her reaction told me I’d hit pay dirt. Confused? I am too. What I think I meant to say was Billie found these three outfits, these ... these ... Let's say Babs was very enthused when Billie brought them out. I figured if Babs thought they suited me who was I to argue?

Still confused? Well let me describe them. Outfit number one was all black, Capri pants, a sleeveless knit top and some classic white deck shoes. Technically not ALL black but you know, very Audrey Hepburn. I modeled them for my *sister,* anxious for her response. There were several floor length mirrors so I could see for myself, but it was Babs approval I craved. I got it in spades. She had this look on her face, this look of joy that her *sister* had found this perfect outfit. But it was tinged with a look of longing and envy that she could never hope to look as good as me. I have disagreed with her many times over this, but still...

“Joanie, that is so fifties, but it is you. I can see you and Fred Astaire in a bookstore in Paris.”

“Me? Audrey Hepburn? The woman about whom a director said: ‘Put a padded bra on her‘? To which the wardrobe person replied, ‘She’s already wearing two!’? You must be crazy, look at these!’” I hefted my breasts.

“So you’re Audrey Hepburn with really big boobs!”

“Babs! … Women who live in glass houses.…”

I pointed at her pregnancy-swollen chest.

“These are needed to feed twins. I think they are coming along nicely, don’t you?.”

“So, like which of your *twins* are coming along nicely?” I pointed at her belly and chest and acted ‘totally blonde.’ We had the sillies today and could not shake them. The sillies. silly. The other *things* shook very well I must say.

* * * *

Outfit number two was a horridly impractical, red-sequined, LBD ensemble, rather like the sparkling dress Marilyn Monroe wore for President Kennedy’s birthday -- though I think hers was white or maybe gold? To be honest, with her it wasn't the dress you remembered. Number two would be a bitch to keep clean and in repair, but it was breathtaking. It had spaghetti straps and a dangerously deep plunging neckline. It was not quite J-Lo’s green Versace number from the 42nd Grammys,

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grammy_Awards_of_2000)

but it was a close second in my mind. With my figure, it was scandalous; scratch that, it was tempting fate. One *wardrobe malfunction* and I'd end civilization as we know it. Matching shoes and a purse completed it, and everything fit me -- almost.

“The shoes are fine and the purse, well that fits anyone but Babs. What do you think? It’s a little tight on top and loose in the waist. It fits nice on my butt and hips, but it ends dangerously far above my knees.”

“Try it without a bra, it was made to be worn that way. The spaghetti straps are a clue.”

“Sorry, Billie. I’m not completely used to women’s fashion,” I said a little snappishly.

“I’ve insulted you, Ms Brown. I forgot you were a man, less than a year ago. I apologize.”

“No offense taken, and I should have spoken more carefully. I was rude to you, and I hate celebrities who are snobs.”

I changed back into it braless, and it fit better. By better I meant much more comfortably in a physical sense. As to my personal feelings ... the jury was still out.

“If I take it in here … here … and here … and let it out a bit here and here,” Billie said as she pinned the dress to mark it for adjustments. “I think it could work. And it’s not that high above the knees; I can let out the hem and gain another inch easily. I’d suggest red panties, though, just in case.”

“I’m not sure. I'm sticking out all over the place. Not literally, but still. I admit it looks sexy on me but ... I mean all that cleavage and the high slit on the side. It's more a stripper costume than a ball gown.”

“Joanie,” Babs motioned to me to come closer. “It's a classic. You have the figure for it and it is not indecent, just a bit ... playful? Wear it for Eric’s senior high school prom. I’ll store it for you. You will be the belle of the ball,” she whispered to me. I blushed.

“If I wear *that*, it will look like I’m begging to get laid!” I whispered back

“Eric will be eighteen and free to do as he chooses. How do you think I got Bob? Though we *did it* in college -- my dorm room in fact,” Babs whispered back, giggling as she finished.

“Billie, I have GOT to have this outfit.”

* * * *

My last outfit was all-leather cowgirl. Sort of a Dale Evans meets Joan Jett look. Your basic ’When good cowgirls go bad’ look.

“Oh my, Joanie, I’m not sure about that one. You’re either a ranch hand or a member of a biker gang -- the tough one of the gang.”

“I’ll take it!”

“What?”

“Babs, I look like an innocent school girl much of the time." She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, a not so innocent school girl, but you know what I mean. I look so young. A little *walk on the wild side* can’t hurt. ~~Plus Eric will love it … on me, duh!~~ Then I imagined how he'd react taking it off me ... "I HAVE to have this one, Babs; it's a matter of life and death. A petit-mort." I whispered that last bit to her, then I rolled the whites of my eyes at her and she laughed.

"My friend will take this outfit too. Who am I to deny her? Any thoughts on accessories, Billie?"

Billie smiled at us, not only were we fun customers, or was it funny customers, but we were buying a lot of stuff. You know, lovely, loony and loaded. Her smile got even wider, as she had an 'Eureka!' moment.

“I forgot. I have a pair of tooled, high-heeled, cowgirl boots that match.”

“B-boots? Y-you have boots?” I trembled with anticipation.

“Um, yeah.”

“Billie, Joanie has this weakness. She has never met a pair of sexy boots she doesn’t like … or buy.”

“That is not true ... Can I try them on, PLEASE?” I whined.

“Sure. We can stretch them a size, possibly two, if need be. They are real leather,” Billie kept cool and professional.

I tried them, and they fit perfectly -- not too loose or tight anyplace. “Ghod, they have a four inch heel and engraved steel toecaps … Oooooh!”

“Joanie, stop drooling.”

“Babs, I am not! Well, maybe a little bit. ~~But not where you can see,~~ Can I wear this outfit out of here?”

Babs and I bought, okay she bought for both of us, nearly a thousand dollars in clothes and accessories. I offered to pay but she insisted, "Can't I treat my sister?" I couldn't argue with that. She got several nice outfits, including one that would only fit her if she got back to her pre-pregnancy weight and level of fitness.

“This will never fit me, not after twins.”

“Babs, you’ll get your figure back. I’ll help, if need be. Think of how hot you’ll look in this; Bob will love it.” It was a classic evening gown, not quite an LBD but close. In my mind, I pictured it on Babs’ shorter, more voluptuous figure. It would be eye-popping, show stopping. It shouted ‘I am woman, hear me roar!’ ... she’d look attractive. “Babs, you deserve this dress. Um … just a mo …”

“Billie, do you have one in my size too?”

She found me one. I was really getting to like this young woman.

“Babs, see, I found you an incentive to get back in shape, we can be twins.”

“Twin call girls, Joanie. We could star in a remake of Pretty Woman.”

“For your and Bob’s next wedding anniversary?”

“You little … You know I can’t resist that. Joanie, let’s save yours for special occasions, like your honeymoon.”

“Billie, we’ll take both of these as well. Do you have any matching shoes in stock?”

I left Billie a healthy tip when Babs wasn’t looking. She was in the bathroom; the twins had made their presence known to her bladder.

“Here, these were cluttering up my wallet.” I handed Billie several Benjamin Franklins -- four to be honest.

“Joanie, this is wrong! Even if I wasn’t getting commission, this is a forty percent tip!”

“You still have to alter the gowns and dresses for Babs and me.” She’d gotten a couple nice plus sized summer dresses that, with a little tailoring, would look good on her during and after her pregancy. “Those are nice dresses Babs got. I want you to adjust them as she progresses and cut them down to size after the births. If it bothers you, consider part of your tip as payment for the future alterations.”

“It’s *still* a big tip.”

“Billie, it’s a gift to a soon to be whole girl; don’t make me beg. I want to help, as does your roommate.”

* * * *
We walked out of the boutique looking sharp. Babs looked every bit the glowing and sexy mother-to-be, I looked cowgirl-licious … Yippee-ti-yi-yea, ride 'em cowboy! ~~Ride 'em hard and put him away wet. ... WHERE did THAT come from? ... He's only fourteen - he's only fourteen - he's only fourteen ... ~~

“Babs, know any western wear or saddle shops? I’m thinking this outfit needs a whip, lasso and spurs … for the bedroom.”

Poor Babs laughed so hard, she nearly lost it. “Sorry, I got over enthused.”

We got in my truck, and Babs directed me back to the restaurant in the mini-mall where the hair salon was located. Babs was sweet and didn’t say a thing against my choice of outfit. Her only comment was, “I wish I could pull off a look like that.”

“You will, Hon, if you want to. Just imagine the two of us knocking the socks off everybody at some stuffy political fund raiser.”

“Joanie, the two of us dressed like that would cause a stampede.” Babs got this silly grin. “We have got to see if they have one in my size; imagine us at a charity ball.”

“... or the Democratic Presidential Convention?”

“... the Presidential Inauguration.”

“... the Vatican.”

“Oh yeah! Blazing Saddles! I like your way of thinking, Babs.”

We entered the family-style Greek restaurant and waited to be seated. A college-age woman walked up to us. I suspected she was a daughter of the owner, as she had classic Greek features.

“I’m Helen; I’ll be your waitress today. Would you prefer a booth or a table?” Helen’s face lit up the moment she saw us, particularly Babs. I was suspicious that Babs had pulled a fast one on me.

“A table for Joanie and me, please; no way could I get in to a booth with my belly -- I’m carrying twins.”

“Congratulations Ms. Johnson, I recognized your … face from the media, and Ms Brown, this is an unexpected honor.” Babs laughed.

“Helen, keep buttering us up like this and you’ll soon be on my *A* list. I’m curious, Helen, like in Helen of Troy?” I asked.

“No, after a great grandmother, My Mom jokes we should move to upstate New York, so I really would be Helen of Troy.”

“Sounds like you have a fun mom.”

“Yeah, Dad says he married her because she made him laugh.”

Moments later an attractive woman of around forty walked past us. She carried several dinners on a large tray and looked like an older version of our waitress. “I heard that, Helen Alexis.”

“I meant Dad married her because Mom wasn’t just a pretty face; she had a brain.” Helen said quickly and smiled.

“'Had' a brain? So I don’t have a brain anymore is it, daughter?”

“MOM!” Helen whined, and the older woman laughed, breaking into a broad grin.

Helen seated us and handed out menus then left to welcome a new customer.

The older woman served her tables then stopped by ours. ”Hi, Ms Brown, I’m Phoebe, Helen’s mother. Ms Johnson, Babs, is a long time patron of ours.”

“So Helen was joking when she said where she knew Babs from?”

“That’s my fault. Helen inherited my sense of humor. We’ve both known Babs for years. I was at her wedding.”

“You’re friends?”

“Phoebe and I were waitresses together when I was in college. She was my Matron of Honor, and Helen was the flower girl.”

“My father said Babs was the best waitress we ever had, then Bob had to come and take her from us.”

Helen returned a short while later with ice water and a basket of fresh-baked bread.

“Mom, what have you been telling Ms. Brown about us?”

“Only the truth, dear; Oh, and your father married me because I was pregnant with you, not because I made him laugh. We had a traditional white shotgun wedding.”

“Mom, you’re embarrassing me!”

“I’ll leave you to my daughter’s tender mercies. Babs. Whatever dessert you and Ms Brown want is on the house.”

“Free dessert? Please call me Joanie; you’ve earned it. Um, you do have chocolate … Ummmmmm chocolate!”

“You’re a loony. I see why Babs is your friend.” Phoebe walked off.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Sure,” I said, and Babs nodded. “What do you recommend?” I asked.

“If you want something light, yet satisfying, we do a great Gyro salad. It’s like a gyro, but the pita bread is cut up into small pieces and toasted like croutons. With the extra veggies and the smaller pita, it's half the calories of a classic gyro and very tasty. I eat them a lot.”

I’d noticed how trim and healthy this young woman was. “I’m convinced, Helen. If I want more, I can always order more. One gyro salad for me and an ice tea, lemon with no sugar, please.”

Babs ordered the same plus an appetizer of various Greek cheeses and olives. “My doctor wants me to get more calcium. Cheese is a good source and is much more tasty than the vitamin and mineral supplements my pediatrician has me taking. And yes , I'm eating lots of leafy greens and taking folic acid pills as well. Plus the salad uses a pasteurized milk cheese, not raw. They can't afford to give customers food poisoning. Happier now, Miss Worry-Wart?”

"Much!" I grinned, and we both exploded in giggles.

Minutes later, our orders arrived. The patrons left us to eat in peace, though a couple of kids pointed me out to their parents. Oh, I almost forgot, we got a gyro and ice tea to-go for our *tail*. We finished, paid up and drove back to Terrace Hill. Our *tail* was very happy. I was in heaven; Helen had brought me this slice of Devil’s Food cake and … oooooh! It was so good it was an orgasmic experience.

* * * *

After a very satisfying lunch, we returned to Terrace Hill. I made sure Babs was settled in, and I took off to pick up my friends. I pulled up outside the middle school around three, got out, and stood next to my truck. At promptly five after three, bells rang and kids came running out the doors seconds after. It looked like a jailbreak.

"I know the feeling, kids,” I said to no one but myself.

They were in a hurry to get home or to their friends, for the most part, until a few spotted me. In moments, I was swamped by shouting, excited kids wondering why I was here.

"Whoa! One at a time!”

"What'cha doing here, Joanie?”

"She’s my ride, that’s what,” Eric called out.

That reply worried me. Our romance needed to stay a secret, so I quickly added, "I’m branching out from music to where the real money is: babysitting and taxi service. You'd be amazed what a soccer mom will pay.” The kids laughed their heads off; poor Eric blushed from embarrassment.

I led him to my truck, signed a bunch of autographs for excited kids, and we drove off.

* * * *
.
When we were safely out of sight, I pulled over and parked. I apologized. "I hated having to make fun of you back there, but I was afraid they would find out we are a couple.” I leaned over and gave him a hug "No matter what I have to say or do in public never forget, I *AM* your girl.” I looked around and kissed him sweetly as we were alone.

"Never forget *I* am *yours*.” He looked at me with those eyes of his, so sweet, so adoring, so serious, so ... so ...

"So, you’re a girl?!”

You think *I'm* gonna' pass on a straight-line like that?

We both laughed, then he kissed me -- rather passionately, I might add. It was unexpected and romantic; I cried.

I wiped my tears and started driving again. I wanted him so bad, I ached. I prayed I’d packed one of my *toys* ... and lots of batteries, those long-lived lithium ones preferably. A woman has her needs. Come on, be fair!

* * * *

I looked at my watch; we’d arrived at Mel’s school a little later than I’d like, 3:28, but they’d only just let out minutes before.

"Do you see your sister?”

"I’m not sure. There are so many kids, but I think I see Mel. She's the tall girl over by the basketball hoops.”

"Wait here.” I got out and ran over to her.

"Sorry we’re late, Mel,” I said as she saw me.

"It’s okay, I just got here. Where’s Eric?”

"He’s riding shotgun in my truck, Mel. You got everything?”

A hand tugged on my belt.

"Excuse me. I don’t mean to be rude, but are you Joanie?”

I turned and saw nothing, until I looked down. A fragile-looking girl in a wheelchair was looking up at me. There were some serious looking crutches on the back of the chair and metal braces on her legs. She looked terribly thin and weak. Makeup covered, but did not completely conceal, nasty scars on her face, arms and legs. I struggled not to wince at the sight. ~~Poor kid.~~

"Yes, I’m Joanie.”

"I’m Megan; I like your singing.”

"Thanks, Megan.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. Mel rescued me.

"Megan was a grade ahead of me. She used to be play soccer and tennis; she was good, too. She was in a car crash last year and was hurt bad. She’s in my grade now ’cause she missed so much school. I don't know her very well, but she's a nice girl from what I've heard,” she whispered.

"It’s okay to tell Joanie, Mel. I’m trying real hard to get better, but I’m so weak, it hurts when I try to do much of anything, and my Mom ... she…” The girl started crying.

A man came up to us with a sad expression on his face. "What’s wrong? Did somebody tease you again? Did you hurt yourself, Princess?”

"Megan was talking to us, sir. She recognized me. We were chatting, and she mentioned her mom. Then, she started crying. Sorry, the name's Joanie. I’m a friend of Mel’s, um, Melissa here. And I sing professionally That's probably how Megan knows who I am”

"I thought you were *that* Joanie; Megan has a poster of you. She uses it to motivate herself. You’re an inspiration to her.”

"Me?”

"You went through so much last year: your mutating into a woman, saving people, the kidnapping and other things.”

"What’s so inspirational about that? I suppose if you look at it that way it could be, but for me it was pure luck on my part; I’m no one special.”

"I’m expressing it badly. It’s how you’ve handled everything: the change, saving lives, the sudden fame. You have taken it all so well.”

"Huh?”

"I can’t imagine many people in your situation would have succeeded to the extent you have. I’d expect you to be a basket case emotionally, or a prima-donna with a swelled ego, but you are neither. I can't recall reading or seeing anything bad about you in the legitimate press; in fact it's usually the opposite, saving Ms. Johnson here for example. Your simply being here for her proves you are remarkably normal, and, um, nice? How many so-called celebrities would voluntarily come to Iowa?” He smiled and laughed softly.

I smiled, then got serious. ”I had no choice in the matter; half the time I’m reacting to events. Very little of my life is my own, but then who am I to complain? For the most part, I have it pretty good, and I have made some great friends as a result of my change.” I gave Mel a hug. "Will Megan be okay?”

"I think so. She misses her Mom as do I. She’s a tough girl and will pull though. I’m proud of her."

He looked at his daughter. "Are you ready to go to therapy?”

Megan sniffled a bit. "I’ll be alright, Dad.”

She turned her chair back to face me. "Sorry I cried before, Joanie. I didn’t mean to. It wasn't your fault.”

"I understand all too well, Megan. I cry when I think about my mom, and she’s been gone almost two years. I was 47, when she died. Mom was just shy of 79, so it wasn't like she didn't have a long life; so why does it hurt so? I miss her bad sometimes.” I got to thinking of my mom, and the waterworks started.

"What’s wrong, Joanie?” Megan asked. She grabbed my hand with her better one and squeezed mine to comfort me.

"I ... I was thinking of M-mom!” I dissolved into tears.

She gripped me with both her hands. I felt Megan pulling herself up, using me as her support. She wrapped both her arms around me and gave me a big hug.

"It will be okay, Joanie; you’ll feel better. I bet she’s up in Heaven looking down on us, smiling with my mom.”

As soon as Megan mentioned her mom, she began sobbing and held on all the tighter. We must have looked a sight: two girls, blubbering away, her head pressed against my chest. We held each other for a while, then she must have seen her dad was crying too. She let go of me and walked the few feet to him.

"Don't cry. It will be alright, Daddy, you’ll see,” she said as she hugged him.

He stared at her, amazed. Her face showed an equally shocked expression. "You walked!”

"I walked! No crutches, no walker, no stupid parallel bars. I walked, Daddy!”

He lifted her off the ground and spun her around. "I’ve waited so long for this. It means you’re getting better.” He lowered her back to the ground. They stood there smiling. She grimaced, and he looked concerned.

"I forgot myself. Does it hurt?”

"A little, but I think it’s because I was stuck in bed and this damn chair so long."

"Megan, don't swear! You want down, honey?"

"Yeah, my legs are getting tired; can you brace my chair as I sit down, Dad?”

"It would be my pleasure, Megan,” I offered. I braced her wheelchair from behind, as her dad gently guided her into the seat. She smiled at her dad and me, as she sat down.

"It will take some time, but I promise you’ll see me running again, Daddy.”

She spun her chair and looked up into my eyes.

"Thank you so much!”

"What for?”

"Helping me to walk again.”

"But I did nothing; you did it all.”

"Yes, you did. When you started crying for your mother, I forgot that I couldn’t walk, and I got up to comfort you. I was close to walking in therapy, but it hurt so much, I was afraid to try. I’m not afraid anymore. I know it will take lots of work, and some pain, but I know I can do it. And that is so kewl! You're like an angel or something.”

"Okay, if you want to think that. I'll be your *guardian angel,* if it helps to motivate you, I mean ... I don't know what I am saying, but I am happy for you. You write me, ya'hear? I want to know how you are doing, If you don't, I'll sic Mel on you."

That got a laugh out of Megan, and her face lit up. I noticed Eric walk up to us; I guess he was worried for me. Seeing him standing next to Megan made me feel so good.

~~She has such a pretty laugh! And with that smile on her face, she could get any boy she wants with those ... NOOOOO!~~

"If you ever pull your feminine wiles on Eric, I'll ..." I whispered in a less than friendly tone.

~~Damn. I'm a jealous woman ... CRAP, I just outed us!~~

"I'm so sorry.I don't know where that came from, that was very rude, forgive me?" I whispered in apology.

Megan laughed and whispered back, "I may not be an adult, but even I can see he is yours. The way he looks at you ... I hope someone will love me like that. Don't worry, I'll never tell; girl's honor!"

Mel whispered something in my ear, something about the desirability of pinky swearing. Apparently Megan and I were not as discreet as we assumed, or so Mel warned me. I followed her suggestion; Who was I to ignore her sage council? Plus Mel was the expert on adolescent girls here... Okay I ACT adolescent, but it's not the same.

I knelt by Megan's wheelchair. "Will you Pinky swear on that, Megan? Then you can never break your word to me or something terrible will happen, like you'll chip a nail or break out with zits on Prom night.

"My advisor on all things teen and girly, Ms Mel here, insists that we do. *I* trust you but then I'm still kinda new at all this girl stuff. So I must defer to an expert."

She laughed, but we did pinky swear. To be fair I gave my *sacred oath* too.

"I, Joanie, pinky swear to never reveal any secrets you tell me and to be your friend as long as you want. You pinky swear to be my friend and never ever tell anybody about me and you know who." I whispered the last bit as I subtly pointed towards Eric. "Pinky swear?" Seeing the scars on her up-close made me cringe though Megan didn't see me, I think. ~~ I wonder if Gin and her sorceress friends could do something for her ?~~

I had Mel witness our *oaths*. She also pinky swore with Megan. Hey, I'm taking no chances with Eric!

We exchanged e-mail addresses, so we could keep in touch, and left before the crowd around us grew too big. Eric helped us get though the crowd and into my truck. It was just in time too, as a TV news van pulled into the school parking lot moments after we drove off.

* * * *

The rest of the day I was subjected to adolescent hero worship, as Mel had to tell her parents, the staff of Terrace Hill, and all her friends about the *miracle* I’d performed. Apparently they'd been reading some fantastic story, by a Welshauthor, about a young woman who raised dormice while bicycling, caring for a hoard of kids and performing miracles or something like that.

I couldn't follow a word they said. I got the impression they saw similarities between me and the story's heroine. I did get a lot of hugs, which were nice, out of it. Eric, who had watched most of the triggering event, my *healing the lame or the Miracle of Megan*, from the relative safety of my truck, was unsympathetic to my *plight* and delighted in watching me squirm at his sister’s antics.

"Eric! Rescue me, please!”

"No. This is too much fun.”

"Maybe I should get me a different boyfriend.”

"Sis, stop teasing my girl! Joanie, dear, do you want to shoot some hoops?”

"Wow! You got my hint," I said sarcastically, or tried to, but the giggles got me. Poor Eric just shook his head and smiled. If I hadn't fallen for him before, I did then. That he can put up with this ditzy psycho dame is beyond me, Oh, right, I'm built like a brick shi* house -- gold bricks at that. As the T-shirt says *These get me off the hook*. They don't call them *boobs* for nothing. And I should know. My sister sent me a dozen T-shirts in assorted colors with that printed on them. Do you think all those decades of blonde jokes finally got to her? ... Nah!

We played basketball until it was time to go to bed. It was the perfect end to a perfect day. I worked all my sexual frustration out with that hard exercise and felt much better after.

I have to confess, I snuck into his room while he showered and *borrowed* his sweaty T-shirt. I folded it up, took a deep long sniff and placed it under my pillow. I had the most wonderful dreams that night, and no, I’m not telling you about them!

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Tuesday was a repeat of Monday. After breakfast, I got my friends to school then spent much of the morning bumming around with Babs. We caught up on the latest gossip ... GOTCHA! Like I was interested in gossip. But we did catch up on what we’d each been doing since we’d last talked. She showed me the latest sonogram movies of the twins, and we oohed and ahhed over them.

"Babs, I must confess I feel jealous of you.”

"Of me?”

"Yes, you have this hunk of a husband, two great kids, many fine friends and a belly full of joys to come. I so want to be pregnant, I ache.”

"Damn, I have to go to the bathroom again.” She had to use it at least every fifteen to twenty minutes, and I could see it annoyed her. "I’ll trade you,” she called out from the bathroom.

"How about I give you a nice long massage while you bitch and moan about the horrors of pregnancy?”

"Deal!”

* * * *

At noon, I left for that TV station to meet with the aide who had participated in my fan club chat, Ms. baby6blue. The management made one last pitch for their anchor to do the interview, but I insisted.

"Your intern did all the work and should reap the benefits. I don’t mind the anchor participating, or my doing a few promo spots with them, but that’s the limit. You knew my conditions coming into this and agreed. Adults keep their promises. or so I’ve been told.”

They were surprised I spoke that way. "You’re not what we expected, Joanie.”

"I may look like teenage airhead to some, but that is a mis-perception. I’m not being a bitch; I simply want the person who did the work to reap the benefits, as I said a moment ago. I’ll gladly help promote your anchor and the station, so long as the new kid here gets the break of a lifetime. Deal?”

They agreed, and we started filming after reviewing a list of possible questions and topics. The intern was exceptionally well prepared, and the anchor was not just a pretty face herself. To be honest she was quite attractive as many news anchors are, but there was a brain behind the tinted contacts, hand-tailored suit and three-hundred-dollar coiffure. I’ll not go into details, as the interview has been rebroadcast many times. I like to think I did well; Mel and Eric seemed to think so, as did Babs, and they should know.

* * * *

There was a significant crowd of students waiting around Mel and Eric at their respective schools when I picked them up, but no TV crews, thankfully. An enterprising young woman at Eric’s school asked me a few questions.

"I’m Madison, and I’m on the school paper. Can I ask a couple questions?”

"If it won’t take too long. My friends must be getting hungry, assuming the school lunch didn’t kill their desire for food ... ever again.” I faked gagging, and most of the kids laughed.

"Why are you in Iowa? Are you just visiting the Johnsons?”

"That's a big part of it. It’s pure joy for me being with them, I feel like family, when I'm with them. They are so kind and loving. That I am a mutant has no affect on how they perceive me. I'm a dear, close friend, period. I'm no fool; my saving Melissa is the reason we met and that they accepted me at first, but it's gone way beyond that. The Johnsons are plain and simply good people.

"Sorry, kinda' wandered off topic there."

"That's alright. It's clear you love and respect the Johnsons, so that is pertinent to the story."

"My, we don't talk half posh, do we?" I said in a overblown upper class British accent.

"You're silly." The girl behind the *serious reporter* mask broke though, laughing.,

"Well duh! I'm a loony." We both laughed then I continued. "I'm also here to get away from school, um, my school, schooling ... Whatever! Summer vacation, that's the word -- okay, phrase. I’m at a school that specializes in training mutants, which is something I need, and I teach there too. Being with my friends back in the Midwest is helping me clear my head, get some perspective, and relax before my trip to Wales.”

"Wales as in the United Kingdom?”

"Exactly! You must be good at geography, Madison.”

"I’m okay at it, but I did my research. You’re reported as heading to Wales to appear on TV.”

"Close. I’m there for a TV series. I can’t say which one, but it’s a show I watch here. I expect it will be hard work but fun. Uh-oh! I see a TV truck. I’d better go, or you’ll lose your exclusive.”

"You’re right! Our advisor will be so amazed.”

"Feel free to e-mail me. Maybe I’ll send you some photos from the TV show you can put in the school paper, or maybe the Des Moines Register under your byline? Ask Eric, here; he has my contact info."

"I'll have it for you tomorrow, Madison, if that's okay with you?"

"Oh yes! Thank you Eric." Madison was beaming.

"Let's go. Your sister awaits.”

We left the lot just as the TV people got there. I waved and laughed, as I drove past. Ghod! I love teasing them, the blood sucking vampires, um guardians of the truth. And if I have offended any actual vampires, I apologize. I should have said '... the blood-sucking politicians.'

* * * *

To be continued very soon.

Only another 107 pages to go not counting the abbreviated header to each part.

Then starts chapter 13.

John in Wauwatosa

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction, Chapter 12 pt 4 of?

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)."

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, 2005-201208.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4, Chapter 12, part 4

That makes this Timeout 4 Chapter 12.4 if you count in software releases.

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Homonymphone herding by Holly Hart
Um, that means they proofed it &/or otherwise saved you from me.

Chapter 12, Sitting Pretty, V a c a t i o n

* * * *

That evening, I phoned my BET producer telling him where I was, and that I thought I was familiar with the arrangements he’d sent.

"Ready when you are, Joanie.”

"Anytime this week, preferably, Al.”

"I have a gap between concerts and other duties. I could have the band and equipment out in Iowa and set up by late this Wednesday.”

"That’s fast.”

"I AM the best, Baby,” he said in an overly masculine tone

"You’d better be, Mister,” I cooed back.

"Women worship me. I do play the world’s sexist instrument, the accordion.”

I started laughing and could not stop.

"It is sexy, all that squeezing in and out turns women on.”

"Then you live in fear a bagpiper will steal your woman.”

Maybe that explains my dream about a crazed Scotsman battling the Loch Ness Accordion.

* * * *

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

I got up early to run and was met by Eric as I tried to sneak out of the fourth floor family quarters.

"What are you doing up so early?”

"I rigged a sensor to my computer to set off an alarm when you got out of bed I wanted time alone with you.” He smiled and my spirit soared.

"Eric, we can’t, not that I don’t want to.”

"I wanted to talk and work out with you.”

"What? I am NOT that kind of a girl.” I acted shocked and hurt.

"I meant I want to exercise with you, go on your morning run, I didn’t mean s-sex.”

"You look so *hot,* when you blush, Eric.” I giggled and bounced a bit, inducing some eye-catching jiggles in my anatomy. I was not playing nice at all. I knew what it was like to be a boy at his age, not quite a man but no longer a child and at the mercy of your hormones.

"I ... I ...” The poor boy was at a loss for words. Other parts of his body knew exactly what they wanted. I must admit, I took a long look at his *predicament.*

~~Ghods, that is so …That has got to hurt and it’s all because of me? How sweet.~~ I’m lovesick and irrational, when it comes to Eric, you can tell. I was flattered and tempted, so very tempted. I'm a bad girl, I am, or at least I hope to be.

"Let’s go for a run and work off all this, um, tension. Sorry to tease you, Eric, I promise I will make it up to you once you’re ... legal. I’ll be ever so grateful.”

I licked my lips ... and took a really deep breath. I was merciless in my provocation. Every male statue within a 300-mile radius must have been sporting a raging… you know. His control impressed the hell out of me, and at that age I know how hard that is -- pun intended. It's not that he didn't, um rise to the occasion --- not that *I* was looking -- but that he remained a total gentleman in spite of his physical desires.

I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "If you can stand up to all that teasing, I know we’ll make it. And don’t think you don’t affect me just as hard ... I mean much! See what I mean? I can hardly think straight in your presence." I nearly pulled of my top to expose my swollen nipples, hell I was moments from ripping off all our clothes, Only knowing what it would do to us, the harm I would cause him, kept me in check. Fortunately my moods are as mercurial as the breeze and my playful side won out.. "Now lead on ... Lover.” ~~This teasing game is fun.~~

We trotted downstairs, quietly, and told the State Patrol we were going out for a run. After a few loops around the grounds I got bored, Eric was too.

"Eric, you know the neighborhood; let’s go for a tour.”

We ran out past the guard shack. "We’re going out for a morning run, no more than thirty minutes, bye!” I smiled and waved, but we did not stop. They immediately radioed what we were doing. We’d gone a couple blocks when a State Patrol unmarked car caught up with us.

"Cheese it, the cops!” I said in a great James Cagney, if Cagney was female and had a voice that made Lauren Bacall sound like a nun.

"This way, Joanie! They’ll never catch us!” He turned up a public staircase on a hillside.

The officer was not pleased, when she caught up. She'd had to drive several blocks to get to the top with us out of her sight much of the time. She was plain-spoken in her displeasure with us.

"Are you two crazy? If anything happens to you, your parents would kill me, Eric.”

"Sorry, officer, we were having fun and forgot.”

"And you should know better, Ms. Brown; you’re an adult.” 'Or so I was told,' was implied in her tone. She was not a happy camper and justifiably so,

"Sorry, I promise to be a good little girl.” I pouted, curtsied and blew a raspberry. I was in a really good mood and skipped for a while. Eric laughed and we ran back to Terrace Hill, staying well in sight of the officer who gave me the strangest looks whenever I looked her way. To be honest, I didn't so much run as bounce.

The State Patrol supervisor gave us a tongue lashing when we got back, sort of, as we had an ace in the hole. "But we told the desk officer that we were going out for a run. We even told the gatehouse.”

"Um, yes, you did do that, but a security detail can’t be put together without some notice. Luckily, it was quiet, and there was an officer to spare.”

"I admit we didn’t give you much time, but Eric was safe with me. I am in training for security and police work. I’m technically an Army National Guard MP specializing in mutants. I promise we’ll give you at least five or more minutes notice in future so you can say 'yea or nay' depending.”

I felt bad; I realized I'd put us at risk. The people behind the X-amine-like mutant transformations knew of my intervention. Someday, they might try for vengeance. I was tougher than most suspected, but would Eric survive an attack on me? Would any innocent passers-by? I owed someone a personal apology.

"And Officer Borges,” she was the officer in the car we’d given a hard time, "I’m sorry I was trouble for you and flippant with you. I put Eric and your lives at risk because of my thoughtlessness. You were a very good sport about it. Forgive me?”

"Me too; I’ve been a politician’s kid long enough to know the drill, sorry.” Eric offered his hand, and she shook it.

I offered my hand to her. She pulled me into an enthusiastic hug that ended with her whispering, "Call me Maridza, and I *like* girls.” She squeezed my butt playfully, broke the hug and laughed.

I forgot to add Maridza was in her mid to upper twenties, tops, no sign of an engagement or wedding ring, fiercely fit -- an obvious body builder -- and a looker. As a man I was a sucker for caramel-skinned Hispanic women ... or exotic Eurasians, sexy African Americans, delicate featured Japanese ... oh hell, attractive young woman of any ethnicity, even pale leggy Nordic blondes with prominent breasts got John’s attention -- especially that last one ... except for all the others. If it was female, young and attractive, John was interested, but so is Joan. Officer Maridza Borges was a most attractive woman. Did I add she was tall with these oh so kissable lips? Then again, when you think of it, would you put an unattractive officer on the Governor’s security detail?

~~Is she getting back for my teasing her earlier or ...? Maybe I should put her in touch with Big Red?~~ The thought of those two *together* was ... was ... it had my motor racing.

* * * *

We finished apologizing for our *escape attempt*, showered and got dressed. I silently thanked the people of Iowa for that wonderful pulse spray in my shower. Well, not all THAT silently; I'd made a little noise, It wasn't like my ears were ringing afterwards, not for long, anyways. I exited the shower relaxed and clean -- okay, VERY relaxed and clean.

I dried off and dressed myself in a nice conservative summer skirt and blouse. Oh yeah, like *I* would dress like that. The message recorded in my cell phone had a lot to do with my choice of clothing. My producer for the BET inspired recording was in town and ready for me, so with luck we would get a good start on the album today. I hoped -- no, make that *had* -- to finish within the week. The following week I had dedicated to my friends, Eric and Mel in particular, and after that I would be in Wales for several weeks. It had to be done now to be ready before the mid-July BET summer concert, if my little *prank* was to work as intended. I walked to the fourth floor kitchen. The family was all seated and eating.

"’Morning! What’s for breakfast? Sorry I’m late; you can blame that addictive shower of yours. It felt so good after our run. I’m ashamed I got Eric in trouble with security; I should have known better ... why are you all staring? ”

"You plan on wearing that today?”

"This little old thing, Babs? I’m thinking of wearing it to church. What, no laugh? I’m off to a local studio to record for an album so I need to get into character. You don’t think this is too conservative for Joanie?” It was one of my leather outfits and very comfortable on a hot day; in other words there wasn’t a lot of fabric or leather in it. It wasn’t a thong bikini, but it wasn’t far off. To be fair, a lot of female joggers wear as little or less.

"That could never be called conservative. Maybe on a Las Vegas showgirl in a topless revue, but normally, no,” Babs said.

Bob swallowed wrong and started coughing. Eric and Mel laughed, while Babs sat there absolutely calm. That broke me up, and Babs cracked a smile.

"Y-you little ... I don’t know what, it is but you are one, Babs.”

* * * *

I drove my friends to school. This time the press was ready, but so were we. Eric had me drop him off a block or so from school, out of sight of the press. Mel and I drove on. At the high school, they’d staked out an area by the main loading area, but I'd been informed there were several lesser used entrances to the school and grounds. I had this inside *source*, a young woman ... hint hint.

"Joanie, don’t turn where you normally do. Go two more blocks then turn left and drop me off on the back side. I can enter by the school office and save a lot of trouble.”

"Smart girl! Where did you learn to be so sneaky?”

"Mom and Dad. Sometimes, they need to avoid the press too. Pity, I’d bet they’d love that outfit of yours; my brother did.”

* * * *

It was a modest drive in my immodest clothes to the small recording studio. It was near the same state university system campus where I attended the broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion back on Easter weekend. I got lost for a while, as Des Moines is not that familiar to me. I found the place, eventually. I parked, grabbed my *ax* and walked on in.

"I’m here to practice and record an album. Has Al made it in, um, Brandy?”

She stared at me,

"Your name-tag. I'm Joanie. I sorry, I probably should be wearing one too." I offered her my hand. She remained a statute. "So is Al here?"

"H-h-e’s w-waiting for you. I’ll ...” she stuttered and pressed an intercom.

"S-she’s here.”

Moments later, my producer for the BET project walked up.

"It’s an honor to meet you, Ms Brown. You don’t know what a pleasure this is for me to work with a living legend.” I saw his eyes when he shook my hand; the man was in awe of me, I’ve seen the look before. I intimidated him. Let's face it, I'm as intimidating as soggy corn flakes from a threat perspective. Your first thought on seeing me is not going to be 'Danger!' unless you have a morbid fear of breasts. This put me off my guard.

"Huh?” I was real articulate.

How can I describe him? Hair, I noticed his hair. He has a lot of it, it’s long, curly and ... he has hair. Al is close to my chronological age, fit, trim and ... normal. And he has all this hair.

~~The guy does mostly parodies of songs or song styles for a living; he plays the accordion for-crying-out-loud, and he’s ... normal? Compared to him I’m the freak, the mutant .... ~~ I broke into a laugh.

He soon was laughing too. "W-w-what’s so f-funny?”

"I just realized that you’re the *normal one* here.”

"I’ll have you know, I’m considered quite mainstream.”

"A rock-and-roll accordion player that does song parodies is mainstream?” I snickered, "Compared to me, I guess you are. I was a middle aged man less than a year ago, and now I’m this Barbie doll look-alike, a chart topping singer and next month’s Playboy Centerfold.”

"I know, why do you think I took the job, Ba-by?” The look and tone he gave me was pure lust, until he started laughing. "Had you going for a moment, didn’t I? I know your record producer, and I respect him; plus to work with a top talent and pull off a stunt of epic proportions....”

"A top talent, where?” I whipped my head back and forth.

"I knew I’d like working with you, Joanie. I can call you Joanie?”

"Well, duh! Nearly everybody calls me Joanie.”

"Joanie?”

"Yes?”

"Would you sign my copy of Playboy?”

"Aaaaaah!!”

<~~I have got to find a way to handle *that*. Maybe a can of mace? Or Nerf Balls soaked in Crazy Glue?... Nair in his hair gel?~~

We moved into the actual recording studios and got to work.

* * * *

I’d diligently practiced the arrangements he’d sent me and was confident we could record after only a few days rehearsal. Most of the band was there, except for two people.

"Two of the session musicians had problems with a connecting flight and are delayed, but we can practice without them for now.”

He introduced me, and I noticed several were nervous. This required decisive action. ~~This is a job for Super ... Nah that’s under copyright ... This is a job for a blonde! Needs work, but it will do for now.~~

"Okay, I’m ready ... Um like what am I here for, yah know?” I asked real sing-song, yet sexy, with just the right touch of bimbo. I'm frighteningly good at it ... DAMN ! I knew I should have had brought some bubble-gum!

"To record an album?” one of the musicians asked tentatively.

"Like, whatever. Oooooh, love your nails!”

We all relaxed after we stopped laughing.

* * * *

The day flew by; Al's augmented band was professional and well prepared. We broke several times to rest and listen to what we’d recorded. I got a strange compliment during one such break.

"Joanie, I’ve been in the business most of my life” -- Al was fast approaching middle-age though he didn't look it -- "but I can’t ever remember meeting an artist like you.”

"Mutants are something like one in a couple hundred thousand people, so I’m not surprised you’ve not worked with one before.”

"No, Joanie, I mean you are a chameleon. It’s amazing!”

"I blend into the background? You think I look like a lizard?" I faked indignation .. breathy, sexy indignation. Then I wet my lips with my tongue... slowly. I have my image to uphold.

"No, I mean you sound different on different tunes. It’s as if you are different people. And it’s not like a forced accent or ... How can I put it ... You become as one with the music.”

"But honorable Master, I don’t feel any different; I just do it." I do a terrible David Carradine / Kung-Fu accent, but he smiled anyway. "That bad, huh?" He nodded. "I suppose I sound different on different styles of music, but that’s because the music needs to be sung that way; it’s nothing conscious. I remember how previous artists interpreted it, and I try to do justice to the versions I like.”

"Most of the time that’s a good thing, but promise me you’ll never do a William Shatner tribute.”

"So Tiny Tim is okay by you, Al?”

"Now there was an artist!”

"You’re a loony! I love it!" And I gave him a hug. Well, I gave everybody a hug. I was in a good mood.

* * * *

We worked though most of the proposed tunes, plus a couple more I suggested at the last moment. By midafternoon, we were pleased with the results. We broke for a break and an early dinner.

"I have to run some errands. I'll be back before the break is over, Scout's honor!"

"You were a Girl Scout?" the drummer asked.

"No, a Boy Scout; don't you know my background""

"Must have been one damned happy scout troop!"."

"I was a boy then, you pervert!" I got some hard stares. I continued.

"Well duh! It's a well known fact all rock drummers are like, totally perverts. It says so on that Wiki/Googly thingy. Would they lie? Ghods!" I left for my truck. They were still laughing, as the door closed behind me.

I have no idea why people don't take me seriously.

* * * *

My first errand was to pick up Eric and Mel from school. This time I couldn’t dodge the press, they were waiting and ready for me. I pulled up in the loading zone at the middle school and opened the windows.

"Joanie. What are you in town for?”

"Joanie, where are you. staying?”

"Is it true about you and Eric Johnson?”

"What?” I exclaimed. This was a very dangerous question.

As I wondered what to say, Eric walked up and got in despite the microphones and cameras. "What are you doing, trying to scare off my ride?”

"Are you and Joanie seeing each other?”

"We have eyes, of course we can *see* each other." He made big quote marks with his arms and even the reporter laughed.

"I’m only fourteen; I’m too young for a girlfriend. Heck, I’m too busy trying to stay awake in algebra; my teacher is really boorring. Please don't tell him that, okay?” Some of press laughed. "I’m glad Joanie’s our friend, she’s so bright and funny. The whole family loves her. As to her and me, when I’m older who knows? Maybe, if I’m very lucky and some Hollywood star hasn't snapped her up? You all really thought she was my girlfriend? Me? Wow! I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Me and Joanie? Wow! In my dreams maybe. Excuse me, but my sister’s waiting for us; we’re her ride home, sorry. Oh, vote for my dad and grandpa next election. They're really good guys."”

The press backed off, and we drove away. His handling of the press made me imagine him as a future President of the United States with this really sexy, tall, mutant wife ... and their seventeen kids. GOTCHA !

~~ Seventeen? -- shudder -- ~~

* * * *

There was a lesser press presence at her school. As Mel met us at that same door closest to the school offices, we slipped away unnoticed.

"The rest of the week, maybe a State Patrol cruiser should pick you up. I don’t like the idea of the press hounding you, and it seems unsafe. There were so many today, I worried.”

"Having the press around may make things safer. Who would be fool enough to try something with all those cameras around?”

"There is truth in that, Eric, unless they want to be caught for political reasons like some terrorists/martyrs, take your pick. Remember Jack Ruby.”

"Jack who?" Eric asked then laughed. "The man who shot Lee Harvey Oswald while the Dallas police were parading him before the camera. I think he owned a restaurant. Mom and Dad insist we know history."

"Well, I'm impressed," and I was."Still, it didn't do me much good to have the press around when I was kidnapped last Halloween. Crowds are a both boon and a risk I'm afraid. I'm not sure it's safe to be around me in public."

Eric wasn't put off in the least by my statement. "Joanie, could you visit my school? We’re done with exams after tomorrow morning, so it’s mostly doing fun stuff the rest of the week. We take a class field trip on Friday and have a graduation early in the evening, around seven.”

"We're done the same day too, but our graduation is more of a picnic on the school grounds that afternoon. Could you come, Joanie? Pleeeeease?"

"I have to finish recording that album, Eric. Mel, but we made good progress today, and we’re working on it tonight until late. I can't promise but I’ll try ... for both of you.”

* * * *

I took them home, freshened up and apologized that I’d be gone that evening rehearsing and recording.

Babs wasn’t the least upset. "Joanie, you have to earn a living too, even if it is a grossly excessive living, Mzzz Money Bags.”

"Thank you for yooor support.”

"We’ll leave a light on.”

"Ghods, quoting Tom Bodett, the sage of Homer Alaska. We’ve both watched too much radio and listened to too much television, Babs. It's turned our minds to Jell-o,” I said, walking away.

"But there's always room for Jell-o."

"Aaaaaaaah! No more, please, have pity!" It took a good half an hour before I didn't start giggling at the slightest thing.

* * * *

To paraphrase Napoleon, a band travels on its stomach. They, Napoleon's army that is, didn't actually march on their stomachs. Besides being slow, it's very hard on the uniforms, and this was in the days before washer-dryer combos. And for prewash? Leaving it in a stream overnight. Like, they didn't even have fabric softener, eeegads!

I'm practicing my blonde; pretty good, eh? I sound like a Canadian!? That's it! We're not going anywhere until the joker fesses up. Come on, I'm waiting. I can wait all day...

As I was saying. With that in mind, I purchased munchies on the way to the studio. I picked up an assortment of subs from a sandwich shop, along with cups, napkins and a cardboard box full of cold, two-liter soda bottles. I got a nice discount, too, from the manager ... the twenty-ish, male manager -- Greg, I think his name was. I’ve his phone number, somewhere. He had these deep blue eyes and a great ass. Hey, I didn’t deliberately unbutton my top! Who do you think I am? Okay, I did, but not that much; it wasn’t like my nipples were showing ... for the most part.

I got couple bags of ice and some several cheap Styrofoam coolers at a supermarket. I’d also picked up some cold beer, wine and a little hard stuff, but that was necessary for my *cunning plan.* I hid that in some additional throw-away foam coolers under my truck bed under cover. I soon arrived at the studio.

"Guys, ladies” -- there were a few females among the bunch -- "could you help unload my truck? I brought food and drink for everybody, as I figured this could go late tonight. If it isn’t enough, I’ll order in pizza or Chinese.”

I opened the crew cab doors, and they quickly had the munchies inside. "That’s everything, unless there is something in the truck bed.”

"There is, but that’s for later.”

"A surprise? I like surprises,” a young backup singer called out. I hoped they were all 21 or older. We set the food up on tables outside the recording room. We moved to the actual studio and settled in.

We were about to play, when I noticed two people I didn’t recognize from earlier. ~~Those must be the musicians with the flight problems.~~ They couldn’t see me, as we had switched into smaller recording booths to isolate us for mixing and overdubbing purposes. Through our headsets, we could hear the mixed *product* and adjust our performances as needed. At times Al or the mixer techs had us performing separately, particularly me, whenever they wanted a cleaner sample of my singing or to act as one of my own backup singers. I am proud to say they did NOT use Autotune on me. I DID overdub myself but that was it.
By eight-something o’clock, we’d run through all of the tunes and had done a couple of test recordings. We took a food break and listened to the tests... the rehearsals, ...um, tests. Whatever!. I was still in my booth, as they need a few more bits from me. Al and the studio techs running the mixing boards looked pleased by break’s end. They played back a possible finished mix of several songs. I went to get a sub and soda; the new guys still hadn’t seen me.

"Gang, that was great. The test recordings are good enough to use for the release tracks. With luck we can wrap this up soon. I know you all are enjoying working together, but she has a tight schedule so the sooner we finish....”

"Al, who are we recording with? You never did tell me, but we know you, and when you asked, we jumped on the first flight out here.”

"Same here, Al; I didn’t bother to ask who it was. Knowing that you were producing, it had to be interesting.”

"Who do you think it is then?” Al was having some fun.

"The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place her. She's damned good, whoever she is. Reminds me some of Pink or Christina Aguilera, though she’s more of a Beyonce with a touch of Aretha Franklin at her peak. I’m stumped.”

"Who was that gal on American Idol a while back, the young mother? She’s a lot like her, but more so.” The other man said in turn.

"So you’re saying she’s, um, ethnic?” Al asked.

"Has to be. The phrasing, the style, and the tone scream it. Plus I overheard one of the staff saying she’s invited to perform on the BET summer special, and that’s why she’s doing this album.”

"Are you sure?”

"As sure as I can be.”

"Me too, she’s just gotta be a sista’.”

"Are you sure? I thought I was more the Nordic Barbie doll type.” I couldn’t resist.

"You!?”

"Damn, I thought I recognized the voice but I never ...”

"Was I any good? I’m kinda new to the business.”

They stared at me slack jawed.

I grinned in triumph. If I could fool industry insiders, I could pull this off.

"The BET invitation was a computer goof, but I figured, why not. I mean, there are gonna be some great artists on the show I‘d love to meet; what talents! And I vehemently support equal opportunity. I’m not doing this to make fun of BET or anybody whose skin differs from me. I may be a strawberry-blonde Barbie doll, but I’m also mutant; can you imagine how many people would discriminate against me, if they could?”

After some embarrassing moments, we settled down and got ready to return to work. It was time I played my trump card.

"Everybody -- and I mean everybody, performers or not -- I brought some more *refreshing* refreshments. Nothing illegal, sorry. Plus, Bongs R Us was closed.” That got some laughs, as musicians have a rep for being drug users. I sniffed a couple of the musicians in an obvious manner. "This group seems clean to me." That got a bigger laugh. "I have beer and wine chilling and will gladly party with you all when, that’s the key, when we finish the recordings to Al and my satisfaction. Um, you’re all 21 or older, right?”

I bounced and did a few of my better dance moves to give the guys and gals a few gratuitous jiggles in all my better places. Hey, it worked on the sub sandwich manager. Most of the guys smiled or looked at me with hunger in their eyes. Two of the women licked their lips, when I looked their way.

"Oh my, I hope I haven’t gone too far?” I pouted guiltily, then giggled. Poor Al looked ready to burst from laughter but kept his cool.

"And I don’t want anyone to feel left out. If you think something could be done better, speak up. Don't let me intimidate you; just think of me as a fellow musician. I’ve been at this music business less than a year, I can benefit from your experience. Heck, I've only been a girl a little longer. I want this session to be fun and memorable. I want you all to be able to say long after, ‘I did my best on Joanie ... ‘s album. Okay?” I teased them blatantly, but I wanted to get this over fast -- not that I didn’t enjoy it. I enjoyed my time with the Johnsons more and wanted all I could get.

* * * *

They worked their hearts out, after my pep talk. It was a grind; we didn’t finish until well after midnight. The party after is a blur. We drank, danced and in general made fools of ourselves, as we listened to the completed tracks. They would need some post-production work, but Al assured me he had everything he needed to finish the album and then some.

Everyone wanted to talk with me, hug me, kiss me, have photos taken with me, and they got *friendlier,* after they’d all had a few. We danced together and took increasingly candid pictures. They’d worked hard so I didn’t begrudge them a little fun. Eventually things wound down, and the sober ones drove the less sober ones to their hotel.

I left the studios a *souvenir* and drove back to Terrace Hill in a happy, bouncy mood. We’d finished much sooner than I’d hoped. The music sounded great and would only sound better after post-production. And my bra was hanging in the studio as a good-luck talisman. I did say we got a little wild at the party. Somebody suggested a game of poker, and this bass player was about to win with a full house.

"Read-'em and weep guys, um, and Joanie. Can anybody beat a full house?”

"I can!”

"With what?” he looked surprised.

"A pair.” I took off my bra. I won. They never looked at my cards. I kept my top on the whole time, I’ll have you know. They looked disappointed.

* * * *

The officers on duty at Terrace Hill got an eyeful when I returned as I jiggled and wobbled my way to bed. ~~Regen or not I really do need a bra. Oh those stairs!~~

Thursday June 07, 2007

I woke to the smell of hot bacon and waffles, literally. Mel held a plate under my nose, as Eric stood by with a large coffee. "We heard that you got in real late, THIS morning,” Mel said in an accusatory tone. Then she giggled, "And we figured you’d need help getting up. As my brother here didn’t trust himself to restrict it to just tickling and shaking you to wake you, we decided on using your breakfast instead.”

They fed me breakfast like I was a patient recuperating from an operation on my hands. I didn’t strictly need the coffee, as drugs are burnt up quickly by my mutant metabolism, and I can get by on little sleep, being a regen. Still the smell and taste of it perked me up, and I appreciated their kind and silly gesture. I finished and got out of bed.

"I’ll take a shower and be dressed in ten minutes or less; time me.” I said walking to the shower as I stripped off my clothes. Behind me I heard…

"Eric, stop it! You’re coming with me.”

I looked back over my shoulder and saw Mel dragging a reluctant Eric out of my room. Apparently, he’d been watching as I stripped… He only saw me from behind, and I was fully covered -- from behind anyway. ~~ I am such a tease!~~

* * * *

I brought my guitar and amp along, as I planned to honor Mel’s request that I visit her school. The commute to Eric’s school was easy, but once we got there I was concerned. The press was getting smarter and surrounded Eric’s school; apparently, I was still big news. We brazened it out and several of Eric’s friends, including that boy Pinky had kissed back on Easter, helped run interference. I made a mental note to ask Eric about him for Pinky. It would do her good to have a boy to talk with other than at Whateley. We drove on to Mel’s school, after running the press gauntlet out of Eric’s.

* * * *

I parked in a visitor’s space at Mel’s school and followed her in. She escorted me to the office then hurried off to class. I walked up to the receptionist/ office worker. She was busy typing something into a PC.

”Could you help me? I’m a friend of Melissa Johnson, one of your students, and she invited me to visit her school. I was hoping I could sit in and observe her classes, or maybe assist a teacher? I’m a part-time teacher in New Hampshire, mostly history and gym. People say I’m a fair musician and singer.”

"One moment, I’m busy wi…” She looked up for a moment while speaking and her voice trailed off. ~~You don’t suppose she recognized me?~~

An intercom buzzed. "Jessica? Where’s the new lunch program budget proposal? I need it for the board meeting tonight.”

She didn’t answer.

"Jessica?”

"Jessica, are you there?”

I heard a door open and someone walking fast in hard-soled shoes on the institutional terrazzo floor. I turned to look.

"Jessica, are you okaaaaay ...”

--- Crash --

The man walked into a desk and toppled over it, proof positive whatever *it* was, I had *It* today. Jessica snapped out of it and rushed to his side.

"Frank, are you okay? Speak to me!”

I got the feeling they were close friends; very close friends, if you know what I mean. Her hugging him, which changed to kissing him when he opened his eyes, seemed proof of that. They made a lovely couple. ~~Why did I think that? Because you’re all hot and bothered for Eric-snookums.~~ My internal voice was being a snot-nosed bitch.

After some embarrassing moments -- I told them, privately, I was happy they were in love, and I wouldn’t tell anyone -- I was given a visitor’s pass and the Principal escorted me to Mel’s classroom.

* * * *

They were covering American history, just for fun, as the semester was all but over. The teacher gave them suggestions of places to visit or books to read to be better prepared for next fall.

"Ms Phillips, Ms Brown will be sitting in on your class for a while today. She’s a part-time teacher and student at a prestigious private school out east. Feel free to take advantage of the opportunity.”

"Sure.”

She turned to see me and almost lost her cool -- almost. "Wel-welcome to my classroom, Ms Brown. I was suggesting to the class ways they could make any summer trips both fun and educational. Maybe you could start off; are you doing anything ... special this summer?”

"I’m on summer break at the moment. The school I’m at has a different schedule from most. I have to be back by the beginning of July for the one month summer session. As my dear friend Mel here has likely told you time and time and time again....” The class laughed, and Mel blushed. "I am new at being a girl which is why I am a student as well as teacher. No, that's not quite right. I'm a student because I am a mutant and need specialized instruction due to powers I acquired, Being a girl is just a complication, a very pleasant one. As for doing something special, besides spending time with Mel and her family, I’m spending the last two weeks of June in Wales, in Great Britain. I’m doing a television show for BBC Wales, honest.”

"What show?”

"Is it famous?”

"Can we see it?” various kids asked.

"It’s a top rated show in England, and it’s fairly popular here, too, but I’m not allowed to talk about it yet. I promise, I’ll let Mel know right before the official announcement, so you’ll have a jump on everyone else; is that fair?”

"Are you planning to visit any historic sites in Wales?”

"That’s a good question, Ms Philips. There is a chance my great-great-grandfather was from Wales, though he may have come from Yorkshire ... or someplace else in England. He’s the one immigrant ancestor my father hasn’t tracked down yet, but record keeping of births, deaths, marriages and residents back in the 1800’s was haphazard at best. At a minimum, I hope to do some research on him, and I want to see Caernarfon castle. It’s where they invest the Prince of Wales.”

"Invest?”

"That’s when they officially give a royal their title, and they swear allegiance to the Crown and such.”

"Exactly, Ms Phillips. So what are you kids doing this summer? We traveled a lot by car each summer, when I was your age, so I might have some suggestions.”

Some were going to camp; some were staying in town and taking enrichment courses: swimming, auto shop, computers and the like. And a few were road tripping, yeah!

To be fair to the rest of her school, I visited several other classes and hung around the cafeteria during lunch to greet any who were interested. I spent a pleasant hour there softly playing my guitar and talking with students and staff. The principal had made an announcement, so the kids were well behaved. Mel hung with me as long as her classes allowed, grinning her head off and basking in the attention.

I left before classes were over to avoid problems with the press endangering the kids.

* * * *

I arrived at the middle school well before they let out for the day. I parked several blocks away to avoid the press. If they were going to play games with the safety of the students in their zeal to get a *scoop*, it was only fair I play games too. I wore a baseball cap and tucked my hair inside my blouse. In my blouse, skort and boots I looked like someone’s older sister ... if their older sister was a Playboy Centerfold. I walked past the reporters without any problems; they were busy readying their cameras, practicing their intros, touching up their make-up and expensive hair-dos. The female reporters were almost as bad. They were expecting me in my crew cab; a tall girl on foot elicited no interest. I walked to the school office and asked to speak with the principal.

"I was told you wish to speak with me?” She looked at me, the gears in her head spinning.

"Let's save time. I’m Joanie, the part time singer and full time mutant. I’m visiting the Johnsons -- the Governor and his family. I’m Eric’s ride home, and I was worried about the press. They are getting increasingly aggressive, and I fear for the safety of the other students and staff. I also wish to offer my services for your school tomorrow. I could attend some classes, give a speech, meet and greet any who are interested -- whatever you think best. I want to thank the people of Iowa for accepting me so openly.”

We moved into her office, where we agreed to a visit tomorrow. In the interest of the student’s safety, she sent a secretary to fetch Eric.

"Ms Brown…”

"Joanie.”

"Yes, Joanie, may I ask about your relationship to Eric? I remember you from the school dance, and you seemed to fit in surprisingly well.”

"In what way do you mean that?” Alarm bells went off in my head. ~~Ah-OOOOO-GA!~~

"I know your official *history*, that you were in your forties and a man before your mutation. How is it you seemed to fit in so easily as a young woman?”

”I don’t know for sure. Much of it is due to my new body, I guess. I'm a female of seventeen, medically, and therefore my brain is female and seventeen despite all those years of male memories. The night of the dance was a chance to experience life as if I had been born female, and I liked it. Everyone I met treated me so nicely, and the Johnsons were like my favorite aunt and uncle or best friend's parents. I assure you that any relationship I have with Eric is platonic, one of friendship and an abiding respect for him and his family." So I lied, sue me!

The school let Eric out early, but then classes were all but over for the semester. We snuck out a door near their loading dock and got to my truck unnoticed. I felt like a spy who’d just sneaked over the border. I called Mel’s school; they let her out a seldom used side door, and we avoided any problems.

During supper we, the whole family that is, discussed matters, and I reluctantly agreed to let a State Patrol car take them to school the rest of my visit.

Later, I checked in with Whateley and asked my friends to research international laws regarding familiars and sorceresses. I was sure the magic department had familiarity -- get it familiarity? -- with any relevant laws or international treaties. I had no intention of taking Miki with me, but I wanted to be scrupulously fair with her and not let any lingering male attitudes about the *delicacy* of pregnant women to cloud my decision. 'Any creature that has lived as long as her, and defeated as many of the possessed as her, is not delicate.' I keep telling myself that, then I picture the pregnant cutie in my mind and get all protective.

* * * *

To be continued soon.

John in Wauwtosa

Please continue to comment. It is valued and has the virtue of shutting me up for a while.

-- GRIN --

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction, Chapter 12 part 5

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?

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)."

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, 2005-201208.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4, Chapter 12, part 5 of 8

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Homonymphone herding by Holly Hart
Um, that means they proofed it &/or otherwise saved you from me.

Chapter 12, Sitting Pretty, V a c a t i o n

Various locations in Iowa and Wisconsin, June 03-16, 2007

* * * *

Friday June 08, 2007

I helped my friends get ready for school, then dressed in what I figured was appropriate for a school visit; I put on this form-fitting, cropped polo shirt and these skin-tight low rise jean cutoffs, more like Daisy Dukes but with all that excess fabric cut away. They revealed my cute, sexy tummy, firm creamy thighs and slender waist. ~~Oh-oh, I need a bikini wax.~~

Ha! Gotcha again. As much as I'd like to walk around half naked for Eric, or naked for that matter -- hey, if you've got it flaunt it -- I wore a fashionable and attractive tailored woman’s suit, summer weight. It projected an air of respectability and class, yet showed off my curves in a way something far skimpier might not -- the power of imagination and all that. Think of that old movie cliché’ with the mousy secretary who when she takes of her glasses and lets down her hair is suddenly a major hottie. I did this one better by skipping the glasses and hair bun. What's scary is I LIKE showing off; I LIKE looking hot; shy is NOT in Joanie's vocabulary. I gave Bob a kiss on the cheek, Babs a gentle hug and drove off.

I arrived a half hour after Eric's school started; by then, the press had left. I went to the school office and was escorted around the building by the principal. I visited a band class -- they were pretty good for middle schoolers; the orchestra on the other hand ... Oh the PAIN! -- and dropped in on a couple history classes as well. I set up in the cafeteria shortly before the lunch periods began.

The principal made a PA announcement. "Some of you may already know we have a visitor here today. She has agreed to meet with anyone who wishes. She is willing and eager to sign autographs and take photos together. I remind you to be on your best behavior and show her what fine young people you are. Remember this is a closed campus, so no phoning your friends or the press. You must stick to your set class schedules but are welcome, during your lunch and any study or free periods, to come down to the cafeteria and meet with her. Joanie brought her guitar and amp and will sing a few songs as well. Did I forget to mention Ms Brown's name? Now behave!”

I heard kids shrieking -- that or a freight train locking it's brakes. It's been claimed that the Saturn V moon rocket and a nuclear explosion are the two loudest man made sounds. They never heard teenage girls.

I had a great time. Most of the kids and staff liked me; if anyone didn’t, they hid it well. There had to be a few seriously anti-mutant types given the size of the school, but then I had saved the daughter of their popular state governor, so I guess that tempered any ill feelings. I was surprised by how many girls wanted their pictures taken with me; guys I could understand, they're walking/talking bags of testosterone, but girls? It hit me eventually. It was not just one cause but a combination of causes: hero worship -- I was a girl after all, despite my past -- fandom, and a kind of preemptive strike; if they had their picture taken first, they felt more in control, when any boys they were interested in had their turn with me. Or maybe it was the *wingman* and the *wounded duck* theory dating. Any of the boys whose overtures I turned down would have crushed egos and raging libidos, a target-rich environment for any enterprising girl, i.e. my self-appointed pseudo wing-women.

The lunch periods were busy for me, talking with the kids, signing autographs and singing. Much of what they said was just polite chatter or even inane, but several asked intelligent questions. The best was: "It must be great to be young, good looking and famous, but if you could choose to be who you are now, but without the fame, versus as your life is now, would you do so?"

”I must admit being famous is often a nuisance, but the price for not having become famous would have been the lives of several wonderful people. I have gained far more from being *outed* as a mutant than it has cost me in lost privacy and such. And I have met others because of the fame; several are special to me, Eric. that was a good question and not just because you are a friend."

~~Friend. Right. The kind of friend that has you so hot and bothered you'd *do him* here and now if you could; admit it. Eighteen, wait for it, girl. If he has you creaming your panties now, imagine what he will be like as an adult.~~

I'd made a mistake mentioning Eric, as I could see the gears turning in their heads. I could imagine them reasoning, 'girl is friends with boy and family, goes to dance with boy, visits from way across the country several times in a few months. Now girl visits boy in his school, despite being so rich and beautiful she could have any man she wants. ...'

I needed to squash any speculation about Eric and me and fast. "To be honest, girls, Eric is kinda hunky, don't you think?” Several girls snickered, more blushed. Apparently, I wasn't the only girl who noticed his charms. "But then your principal is quite the stud muffin, if you like old men like your grandfathers." I swear, the class laughed so hard, I think a couple wet themselves. Yeah, I know Eric's principal is a gal, and it's Mel's that is a man. It simply reinforces my image of being a blonde and not the brightest banana in the chandelier. Misdirection; it works every time.

I managed to escort Mel and Eric home without any serious complications, though my first act upon returning to Terrace Hill was to take a very long, very cold shower. It helped some. I still nearly jumped Eric during dinner, I was so ... pick your favorite word or phrase, I was all of them.

" *Sister*. do you want me to distract everyone while you, um, get some, er, relief for your *urges*?" Babs whispered to me after dinner. I turned beet-red and rushed off to my guest room. She knew how to push my buttons, just as my biological sister did. I loved her for it and planned on getting revenge at a date of my choosing. Muwah-ha-ha-ha!

While Babs called an impromptu family *meeting,* I had a meeting of my own with a couple of my favorite adult *toys* ... ooh, yeah baby!

* * * *

I showered, washed my hair and changed all my clothes; I even put on some perfume, something I didn't always do -- anything to hide the evidence of my carnal activities. I found Mel, and we talked about a sleepover. She called her friends, one after the other, and proposed a sleepover for Friday after Eric's graduation. Unfortunately, many had holiday plans in place and several were leaving town the day after classes ended. We could have some time together Friday afternoon -- her last day was a half day -- but with Eric graduating middle school that didn't leave much free time. We agreed to keep in touch, and maybe later in summer an opportunity would arise. I was disappointed, but this meant more time with Eric, so I wasn't too put out.

Friday June 09, 2007

I got up extra early in preparation for the mini-vacation I was taking Mel and Eric on, starting Saturday. I did my run, showered and dressed. I did a quick check on my emails. I was right on Miki; British customs would have been a nightmare for her. Even familiars had to go through months of quarantine, like dogs, cats, cattle or any other imported animal. The Sabers sent their regards. They were having fun with the *old bag* gone, -- they'd been boning up on their 60/70's slang in self-defense -- and that I would be pleased with their progress as a band when I returned.

Operations informed me that the farmhouse and barn conversion were ahead of schedule, and both would be ready for occupancy, before I returned from England, um Wales.

Suzy emailed from a WiFi hotspot in Steven's Point, the nearest sizable city to my uncle's lake cabin. She'd had a great time reuniting with her family. Later, they planned to go to my cousin's lake cottage near Tomahawk to spend time with her cousins who were anxious to hear all about her famous mutant friend. My cousin, a.k.a. her uncle -- this is confusing even to me -- the service station *mogul* -- snicker -- sent a brief email thanking me for being so kind to his niece, and that I was much more pleasing to the eye than I used to be. Oh, there was something about if I wanted to play touch football, like we used to do at our Thanksgiving family get-togethers, he was all for it .. so long as we didn't tell his wife. Here I thought his dad, my uncle, was the kidder in the family.

I had a private e-mail from Pinky. I won't divulge the contents, but it made me cry; she loved me so much. That her birth mother could turn her back on ... I had to stop thinking about it before I got mad.

* * * *

Both Eric and Mel had short days, this last day of school. Mel's graduation from grade school would be informal, but family were welcome to attend. Eric’s more formal graduation ceremony would start at seven o’clock, so I had ample time to pack for the mini-vacation and ready myself for the ceremony. Babs helped me pack for the kids; we'd let them veto our choices and make their own later that day ... right. No, really; she, I, we, trusted them to make intelligent choices; we simply made them in their place.

"Sis, I know mother knows best and all that, but Mel's a pretty girl and these clothes are so ... dull shall I say?"

Babs gave me a dirty look then broke out laughing. "Duh! I want to see how she reacts. If I know my daughter she'll voice her opinion politely, but firmly, and pack a few items she wants along. I don't mind her dressing her age, so long as it's respectable."

"So not a slutty wannabe prostitute like me?"

"I wouldn't call you a wannabe."

"But I wanna sooo bad!"

It was some minutes before either of us could speak without breaking up with the giggles.

"Joanie, when you talk like that, I wonder if you are bad influence on my children, but then I talk that way too. God, we're both sluts!"

"And loving it!" A Maxwell Smartism is so satisfying.

* * * *

Mel's graduation was low-key. A brief ceremony in the school gym then a picnic out on the grounds. The school had a buffet lunch laid out that a local caterer had donated; their daughter was in Mel's grade. There was plenty to eat for students and guests. Babs was recognized at once. She was active in the PTA, among other organizations; then there were the little facts of her being a US Senator's daughter and the current governor's wife. We became the center of attention, once lunch was over.

"Ms Johnson, you're looking radiant. When are you due?" seemed the flavor-of-the-day among the parents and well wishers.

"Mid-August, but with twins I'm told an early delivery is common. I'm doing well and looking forward to it as is the whole family."

"It will be fun to have a baby brother and sister; I already have an older brother and sister."

That raised a few eyebrows. "But there's only you and your brother Eric?"

Mel giggled, "There's my big sister Joanie; well, she's not really my sister, but I wish she was." Then she gave me a hug.

I tried not to cry, but a few tears leaked out.

Most of the kids were friendly, often to the point of hero worship, but then Mel was well liked and I had ... you know the rest.

I was particularly pleased to see Megan and her dad again. She showed off for their friends by taking more than a few steps from her wheelchair to one of the cafeteria tables they'd set up for the graduation picnic. She had crunches just in case but didn't use them. The squeals of joy and surprise from her friends was electric. They so mobbed her we couldn't speak but I saw her mouth 'Thank You Joanie' and I almost lost it.

I did note a couple parents who seemed upset I was there, but if it was due to anti-mutant bias or fears for their child's safety, given my track record of attracting trouble, I don't know.

* * * *

Eric's graduation was more elaborate -- a ceremony in the school auditorium. It reminded me of when I graduated junior high. They had a salutatorian and valedictorian and all that -- thankfully none of those silly robes and mortar-board hats we wore at my high school graduation. Yuck! Though with a gown like that, opened up the front , shortened to mid thigh and pulled-in the waist I could ... Never mind, plus wearing that commando would be begging to get laid ... I'll file that away for future reference.

Eric introduced several of his classmates to us, that's Mel, Babs and Governor Bob. We had several teachers stop by and comment on how Eric was one of their favorite students and complimenting him on how he'd improved of late. I was surprised, I thought Eric had always been good in school. His parents looked confused too.

"I said that badly; what I meant was Eric has always been a good student, it's just he's become even more so of late.

"Eric, if you keep this up, I expect you will graduate on top of your class in high school and even college.. I don't know what has gotten into you, but keep it up; your hard work made this last semester a joy to teach."

We all knew what had gotten into Eric, and I couldn't be happier. Okay, I could be, but that had to wait for Eric to turn eighteen.

* * * *

Saturday June 09, 2007

We woke early Saturday morning -- well, Mel did. She got me up at 5 o’clock with an ice cube down my back. I have to admit it was effective.

"Aaaaiieee! Who did that?”

I heard someone try to stifle a giggle, most unsuccessfully too.

"You said to get you up at five if you weren’t up already. Eric is making sandwiches, and I have our bags by the door ready to load.”

"That’s great, Mel. I’ll shower quickly, dress and meet you in the kitchen.”

Fifteen minutes later I was in the private kitchen in Terrace Hill, fairly awake and oh, so happy. ~~ Eric is looking better every time. Behave yourself this time, Joanie, and the next few years will fly by. Then you can ...~~ I was having a delicious daydream complete with a generous helping of ... ~~Ooooh, Eric, is that all for me?~~ ... never you mind. I was having a great time. Unfortunately my imagination was having an even better one and delighted in, ah ... Thus my alibi for the following Freudian slip,

"Joanie, do you want anything more?”

"Another helping of you, lover.”

"Huh? Joanie, are you awake?”

"Whoa! Sorry, Eric, I was daydreaming.”

"About you, brother,” Mel said and giggled.

"I don’t mind. If you’re too tired, we can wait until you’re rested.”

"I’m fine, Eric; just seeing you triggered all sorts of delightful dreams. Good morning, Babs! I hope we didn’t wake you?”

"No, the twins did; all that weight pressing on my bladder. Thanks for taking my children on a vacation. I hated to think of them cooped up here all summer while Mommy waddled around.”

"Mom, it’s fine. We have lots of friends, and I want to be with you when my baby brother and sister enter the world. It will be kewl.”

"Wait until you’re a mother, my child; giving birth hurts like hell. Sorry, kids. It’s worth it; look how you two turned out.”

"I’m happy and surprised you let me travel with Eric and no escort. I mean, after Easter I ...”

"You do have Mel with you; that should cool your ardor. Plus, you both know how incendiary your feelings are, so you’re better prepared to control them. I think the two room idea will work. You and Mel in one, Eric in the other. You said some of your MSG pals would help if I recall." Bab's looked me square in the eyes. "I trust you, Joanie, and it’s a good test. If you can survive this trip, the demon is tamed. You all know the consequences of failure, so I’m confident.”

"I promise not to violate that trust. I don’t want to lose your friendship or Eric’s.”

"Have a nice time. Bring back lots of photos and stories”

"I will, Mom, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure they behave.”

"I’ll be good. I don’t want to lose Joanie, Mom. You call us if anything happens. We each have a cell, so no excuses.”

"Joanie, thanks for getting phones for my kids.”

"It made good sense, and we can use them like walkie-talkies in crowds if we get separated. Take care, lovely lady.”

"I look like a fat cow, but I’ll accept your compliment.”

She gave us all hugs and kisses. I was amazed Eric didn’t object, but then she was letting him time spend time with me. We loaded and drove off.

Oh, yeah, nearly forgot. You all, dear d/j//whatever readers, are wondering 'Why no escort, no guards, no State Patrol officer playing babysitter to us?' Because one no one knew our itinerary, not even me, except for part of day one, and that was a well kept secret. This was a follow-your-nose vacation. Second, they were with ME, with my semi-phenomenal cosmic ... my mutant gifts plus police training, riding in an armored, uber fast vehicle. I knew a bunch of supers level mutants -- members of MSG -- intimately. I mean that in the *biblical* sense, in Wisconsin, our destination. Anyone trying to harm Mel or Eric would get more than a can of whop-ass dumped on them, they'd get the whole cannery. And that's not including what *I* would do to the bastar ... fool(s). Armageddon would be the least of their worries if someone dared to harm my friends. Not that I'm the least bit vindictive ... much.

* * * *

"Where are we going?”

"I plan to take you to some of my favorite places in Wisconsin and Iowa. If either of you want to do something, let me know.”

"I’d like to go to a theme park.”

"Mel, there’s Great America just south of the Wisconsin state line and all sort of stuff in the Wisconsin Dells, particularly water parks. You'd enjoy both. ”

"I vote for the Dells and a water park.”

"You would, too, brother. You want to see Joanie in a wet, clinging swimsuit.”

"Oh yeah, but it'd be fun to see her in a swimsuit too.”

~~O...M...G! He loves me ... Don't cry, Joanie, don't cry ...~~

"Okay, we’ll work that in, but today is special. I need you both to be on your best behavior, and be careful what you say. We're going to see a professional baseball game with some people I know. The problem is they don’t know me as Joanie; they knew me as John, and it’s not safe to let them know that.”

"Joanie, that makes no sense.”

"Eric, let me try again. A group of employees from the bank I worked at, and some of their friends, are going to see the Brewers play. So is my sister and her husband. I want you to meet my family, and this is a good opportunity.

"Sis got us tickets. She told them some out of town friends were visiting, and she needed three more tickets. It’s safe to talk about Joanie, how we met and are all friends, but don’t tell them we are boyfriend and girlfriend. And never ever tell them who I used to be. We are acquaintances only, not formerly brother and sister, now sister and sister. She is simply a nice lady who helped me at the bank after my transformation; end of story . Got it?”

"So telling your sister that we are lovers is a no-no?”

"Eric! That isn’t true ... yet. If you can joke about it, you understand. It’s fine to tell my sister you are attracted to me, but be honest and discreet. If the wrong person overhears, our relationship is down the toilet ... permanently.

"This is a long drive, nearly seven hours. If you need a bathroom break or want to stop for a quick look at something let me know. We don’t need to be at the meeting place until two-thirty.”

* * * *

We made excellent time with our early start. My huge pickup was surprisingly quiet -- the armor and electric motors, probably -- so it was easy to speak. They caught me up on the news of Iowa, not that I was totally out of the loop. Eric and I had maintained our Friday evening calls, so I was familiar with much that had happened. I tried to be a good girl and listen -- a strength my mother had. Though I am not her, I’m a much better listener than John was.

"Joanie, what do I call your sister?” Eric asked me.

"By her first name, when we are clearly alone; she’ll like that. In public, you'll have to ask, like you were meeting a stranger, and then she’ll tell you. She's a bright lady and in some ways smarter than I am, though in some ways she’s not as smart as me. That didn't come out too clear, did it?"

"Like you said, Joanie."

"Me too," Mel added.

"Thanks a lot, gang!" I snarled or tried to. It's hard to sound angry when you are laughing. "I should have said my sister had things she was better at than the old me, and the old me had things he was better at. Even with my mutant makeover, I consider her my equal mentally, if not physically, okay? I hope you’ll get along. I want you to know my family. If we are going to be together, you need to make an informed decision, Eric.

"Does anyone want a soda? There are some in the cooler in the rear console.” Ah, the advantages of being blonde. You can change the subject without warning, and nobody suspects a thing.

We pulled off the main highway, once, onto a side road to stretch our legs and to grab a soda ... and to kiss. Okay, I’m trying to be a good girl, but after several hours in the same vehicle it got to me being that close to Eric, and I HAD to; so did he. I think it might be pheromones, or maybe we just have the hots for each other. I was a guy for nearly fifty years, and I know he was in distress -- a great deal of distress from the size of the bulge in his trousers. It was no more than a kiss but ... WOW!

"That will have to hold us for a while, *lover*”

"No problem,” he said with a very silly grin on his face. Mel gave us a disapproving pout then giggled. She’s tickled that her brother and I are a couple and does everything she can to see we stay that way AND celibate -- curse her black heart.

We drove in relative quiet, my friends, -- my future husband and sister-in-law I hoped -- soaking up the scenery. We got near to the Mississippi River and I noticed Mel acting odd. She was getting more tense and nervous by the second.

"What’s wrong, Mel?”

"We’re not going near that tourism information place in Prairie Du Chein, are we?” There was fear in her voice.

"We’re crossing way downstream from there, so don’t worry. Your brother and I will make sure nothing bad happens. There is a tourism building on the Wisconsin side, but it’s off the main highway, so there are no vehicles driving by at 40 to 50 miles an hour. I don’t think you are weak for being afraid, hon. I’d be scared, too, after what happened last year.”

I heard Mel take a sharp, deep breath. "Joanie, take us into the tourism place. I need to get over this, and a potty break would be nice.”

"You’re very brave.”

"And I drank too much soda; I need to go to the bathroom, bad!”

* * * *

I was proud of Mel; though the building was different, it was similar enough it had to trigger memories of that awful day. We did our business, then Mel and I did each other’s makeup.

"Joanie, your lipstick is smudged. I wonder how that happened?” We broke into giggles.

"You little minx!”

She touched up mine, and I put some on her. It’s amazing what a little lip-gloss and a touch of eyeliner will do to dress up a woman. And don’t give me that 'she’s too young for makeup’ nonsense. Many of her classmates I’d seen just days before wore some makeup and had pierced ears, some with multiple piercings, and a couple bolder gals showed off bellybutton rings whenever their blouses rode up. Mel was positively conservative by comparison, given she appeared to me one of the more ... developed girls in her class. Did I just say that? I meant, okay, Mel is *well-built* for a girl her age. It’s not like she’s built like me, who is, but she’s going to be a hottie -- a tall hottie -- I can tell.

Mel noted the resemblance. She looked at us in the mirror and smiled. ”We look like sisters, but then someday we will be.” That had me smiling too.

We caught up with Eric, and I let them browse through the brochures in case something caught their fancy. They did want a tour of a cheese factory, and the army DUWK rides at the Dells interested Eric.

"Make sure to grab a state road map so you can mark the route we follow,” I suggested.

The attendant noticed us and asked if we needed any help. I was blocked from her view by an info kiosk in the center of the room, so she must have been talking to Eric or Mel. "Morning, Miss. Is there anything I can help you find? Any particular activity you are most interested in?"

"My best friend is taking us to visit her favorite places in the state. She used to live here, so she’s pretty familiar with Wisconsin. I need a state map though."

"There are some new attractions. You look like a young lady who follows the music scene; I know I did at your age. Ever hear of Joanie?’

"She’s my absolute favorite!” Mel practically screamed.

"She's mine too,” Eric added. His tone suggested it wasn’t just my singing that interested him.

"Well, you would, brother. She’s very pretty.”

"I wouldn’t disagree with that too strenuously,” I called out, still obscured.

"They are putting up a monument and a safety fence at a sister tourism facility in Prairie Du Chein. It’s in memory of her bravery in saving that young lady’s life, Melissa Johnson. The ground breaking ceremony is this Wednesday, at noon, if you want to see it.”

"It is? I might want to see it; I was there when it happened.”

That statement surprised me, but then lots of things Mel did surprised me. If it helped to calm any remaining fears she had from that day, I was game.

"Actually, Ms. Johnson prefers to be called Mel, don’t you Mel,” I called out again from my concealment. This was fun.

"You know *that*, Joanie. I told you last Labor Day in Prairie Du Chein,” Mel answered.

The slightly quavering tone in the attendant’s voice told all. "And your name, Miss, is?”

"I’m Melissa Johnson from Iowa and this is my brother Eric. And this is my best friend ever, Joanie,” she said proudly, as I walked into view.

"I’m surprised about the monument to me and Melissa. No one told me about it, but then I can be hard to get a hold of. I’ll see if we can make it to the ceremony, okay Ma’am? I can be reached through the Wisconsin Mutant and Paranormals facility in Madison. Ma’am, say something? Ma’am?” ~~Ghods, this is so much fun !~~

* * * *

After making sure the woman was okay, we walked to my truck and drove on toward Milwaukee.

"Do you really want to go there, I mean the tourism facility in Prairie Du Chein?”

"Mom and Dad told me to face my fears, and they won’t control me. I need to do this for myself.”

"Okay, we’ll go sometime during this trip, Mel -- even to the ceremony, if you like. You’re braver than I am, girl.”

* * * *

We made good time the rest of the way. I stopped by my dad’s home first, parking out front. He was out, but I had my old keys. I showed them 'round the house, and I wrote a note for dad. I helped Mel and Eric do a little light cleaning, as a favor to Dad. Our two old cats were sleeping on my sister’s old bed. I changed their litter-boxes and gave them fresh water. I sat down on the floor of the hallway and called to them.

"You probably don’t remember me, but I was John; I’m Joanie now. Want a scritch-scratch?”

They looked at me for a while, then the girl walked up and sniffed me. She looked confused then she sniffed again. She got very interested in me. After a minute or more of this, she hopped on my lap and curled up purring like she had found a lost friend. Her brother came over, sniffed me a little then flopped down on my legs. He purred like a chainsaw.

"You know who I am? I missed you so.” I rubbed and scratched their ears. They purred, licked me and generally acted goofy.

"Joanie, where are you?’

"I’m upstairs, Mel; come softly so as not to scare the cats.” I quickly wiped away my tears, before they saw them.

I spent several minutes introducing them to her and next to Eric, who wondered where we were. We were about to go when my Dad drove up in his Sable. He got out of the car and opened the trunk; he’d been grocery shopping.

"We’ll help, Dad.” I whispered that last word to him. He was surprised to see me but was smiling. We quickly had him unloaded and the cold and frozen stuff put away. In minutes, all the cans were downstairs, the boxes in the cabinets and only the meat needed re-wrapping for the freezer.

"Dad, this is Melissa, or Mel, and her brother Eric. I’m taking them on vacation this week, because their mom is very pregnant with twins, and she can’t travel.”

"You are the young lady my daughter saved last Labor Day. I remember you from the photos, though you have grown a lot since then. And you young man, what are your intentions towards my daughter? Can you support her and a family? ... Are you two using protection?”

"Daddy!” Dad laughed in response to my scream. Eric’s face looked like blanched cauliflower.

"Hon, the look on your face was priceless. I’m getting old, and you are my last unmarried daughter. When will I get an opportunity to say that to a young man again? Aaaah! I knew I forgot something, I should have been cleaning a shotgun as I asked that,” Dad said then laughed.

"Mr. Brown, I know I’m too young now, but I respect Joanie and I love her. I will wait if she will. My grandfather, the Senator, told me I’d be a fool to ever hurt her. I promise that when I’m old enough, I’ll be the best possible man you could ever want for a son-in-law.”

"Shake on it?”

"I’ll give you my solemn oath.”

"A hand shake will do. You seem an honorable young man.”

I looked at the time. "We have to go, Dad. We’re meeting Sis to go a Brewer’s game with her and her personal love-slave.”

"Can’t you call Tony by his name?”

"Sure, but where is the fun in that? ... Dad, how come you have the cats?”

"Tony and your sister are having their condo remodeled, so I’m cat sitting. I didn’t realize how much I missed the fur balls. Since your sister got married, and you moved out after your ... The house is too quiet.”

"Dad, you could move in with me. I’m nearly finished building a big house inside the shell of a barn. I have a guest house, though that may get rented out. I have 53 acres; I’ll build you a house if you prefer. It’s not like I can’t afford it.”

"I’ll think about it, but all my friends live here and my clubs.”

"Think about it; I worry about you.”

We said our goodbyes and drove off. Fortunately no one really noticed us leaving. Most fortunately, Dad did not notice my tears. He'd've had a hard time noticing mine though his own.

* * * *

We stopped at a supermarket and bought a couple large coolers, lots of ice, soda and bottled water. I got several pounds of various potato and pasta salads from the deli and iced those down too. Mel made a great suggestion, and we got plastic utensils, paper plates, napkins and trash bags just in case. We bought some cheap but serviceable folding chairs for tailgating.

We, well, *I*, got looks from fellow shoppers, but I think my presence was such a shock it held them back. Though there was this one school girl -- roughly Mel’s age -- shopping with her mom. I assumed it was her mom; they looked so alike. The girl kept looking at me and at this teen/music magazine. She did this a lot in the short time we were in the checkout. Apparently I was in it along with some list of up-and-coming teen stars, Mel told me later. I should have figured she had a copy in the shrine, um, her Joanie collection. The girl must have been intimidated by me, so she walked up to Mel, instead.

"Miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but is your friend, Joanie, the singer?”

"Sure is! She’s my very best friend. Do you want to meet her?”

"I can?”

"Joanie, want to say 'Hi' to a fan?”

"Why not? She asked politely.”

After my ears stopped ringing from the girl's excited shrieks, I signed her magazine -- I paid for it to save the clerk some grief. I was in a really good mood that morning, so I felt I should.

"Where do you go to school, Tameka?” She'd introduced herself after some coaching by me. I guess I intimidated her.

"I graduated from Jefferson Grade School and start at Longfellow Middle School this fall, Joanie.”

"Tameka, I went to Roosevelt, and later Longfellow, but it was a junior high then in the early 1970’s.

"You went to the school I’m going to?”

"And East High School.”

"My friends are gonna DIE when I tell them. Wait a minute, please!.”

She got out her cell phone. "Mom gave this to me for my safety; it has a built-in camera.

"Mom, can you take my picture with Joanie?”

We left a few minutes later before the crowd grew too big. Tameka was grinning and thanking her mom ecstatically, as we walked out the door.

* * * *

We got to the big-box retailer's parking lot where our directions for the tailgate and ballgame said to meet. I’m not saying which retailer, but their logo looks like a bull’s-eye, in red and white. It was an easy target Okay, who groaned? It wasn't that bad, was it?As I was about to say before I was ... interrupted, I recognized a few of the bank employees standing by their vehicles, as I had worked with them, or more correctly, John had. My sister drove up moments after us, so I shut off the truck and we got out.

I rushed over and gave her a big hug, lifting her into the air and spinning around. My former coworkers stared in utter disbelief. I set her down, and she handed me our game tickets.

"Did I spill something on myself or forget to cut off a price tag from my clothes?” I asked.

"If you haven’t guessed, this is Joanie, and her two younger friends are Eric and Melissa Johnson from Iowa. Joanie is a customer of ours. I met her last year after her transformation; she need help with her finances, what with her radically altered identity. We talked a bit, and we become friends. I invited her, and she asked if her two young friends from Iowa could come as well. Any questions?” Is my sister smart or what? And she's a natural blonde too!

"I heard rumors we had a big name celebrity as a depositor, but I never made the connection,” said a lovely twenty-something operations manager. I’d kind of fancied her when I was man, but she was happily married. Her ancestors had to be from Norway or Sweden, from her appearance. She has this oh-so creamy complexion with subtle freckles in the most delightful places. Two such places protruded tantalizingly from under her blouse. Did I say John fancied her? Joanie was spellbound. Thankfully or regrettably, take your pick, her handsome, well-muscled, Hispanic husband was with her, which spoiled THAT fantasy. Her smile still got to me despite the damper of her hubby. And those eyes of hers! ~~Damn but she's hot!~~ This hottie young mother was one of the event organizers. ~~You can organize me any time, Blondie.~~ I looked at Eric and felt unworthy. I pulled myself together and spoke.

"Oh, if you are wondering why the Johnsons are with me, I’m taking them on vacation for a week to give their parents a break. We met last fall and hit it off.” I giggled and so did Mel; Eric just looked at me and smiled. I felt even more guilty, yet oddly happy ... you know. My emotions and a yo-yo have too much in common.

"Joanie is my best friend ever. I trust her with my life," Mel giggled.

"M-mel, cut that out." I could barely speak; the apprentice had bested her mistress. I was impressed. She also snapped me out of my funk.

"My Mom is due to have twins in August. She and Joanie are like sisters now, so here we are,” Mel explained.

"I feel so stupid. I was told by our company president to keep an eye on this important new customer’s accounts. I never connected the name Joan Brown to Joanie. That makes you two the Governor of Iowa’s kids.” They nodded politely.

This gal ran our electronic banking department and was a major babe with a sexy wild streak. I, that is John, fancied her big time, but the age difference was too much -- or so I’d thought. Additionally, when I was working there, she was happily married. I should have said she was married, but unhappily, because it lasted four months, and she was single now and looking fine. She'd lost a few pounds, got seriously in shape, and generally was more upbeat and confident. That 13 year old boy in my mind wanted in her pants, like yesterday. ~~Just my luck, she’s single again, and I’m a woman. I wonder if she’s into girls. Oooh , a three-way with Blondie!~~ Did I mention she was the other organizer of this outing? In my defense, my libido was still a bit revved from kissing Eric earlier and was getting even for us not ... you know. I’m not a slave to it, but sometimes it tries to be my mistress ... and I LOVE IT.

I made her look ordinary by comparison; what a disappointment. I mean, she is a great looking young woman; she reminds me of Maureen O’Hara in her prime. That I made *her* look plain was a bitter blow to the tiny remnant of my male ego. He was having so much fun, until I thought that. My female ego enjoyed this immensely. It's one thing for people to tell you you're a knock out; it's another thing all together to realize you are better looking than someone YOU believe to be a hottie. I mean I fantasized more than a few times about this sexy woman. There was a down side to this *revelation*. Any woman near Eric triggered predatory emotions deep in my psyche. Little Miss Goody-two-shoes Joanie has a jealous streak, no doubt about it.

Where was I ? Right. A couple of the guys and one of the girls, the sexy e-banking specialist, marveled at my truck. Meanwhile I worked to push my jealous streak back in its adamantium steel cage. Hey, I'm super-powered evil mutant; I'm entitled to that level of bitchiness.

The rest of the gang arrived, and we took off for Miller Park. The line into the tailgate area was long, as the team was winning for the first time in ages. There was hope this year they might make the playoffs. The last time, the ONLY time we'd been in the World Series, Matlock was a new show. It was so long ago, it would be a dozen years before Miley Cyrus was born. We paid, parked where directed, and set up our stuff. I used my truck’s now-opened tailgate as a table.

We soon had the charcoal and propane grills going, and the food cooking. The group was a little unsure as to how to treat me, but I put them at ease.

"I’m just another Midwestern kid. I lived most of my life -- until this last year -- about five miles away; a little less as the crow flies. Other than Mel and Eric being underage, treat us like anybody else here, okay? Oh, and I am a touchy-feely kind of girl, so you don’t have to treat me like fine china,” I added then stood up, grabbed Tony and kissed him.” ~~I see why Sis likes Tony; not bad. Um, tight buns, guy~~ My sister looked ready to kill. So I kissed her, too, then dragged the two of them together. "Okay, now that you each have the general idea, try it together and keep practicing.” They practiced and practiced diligently. If we had been in private, I think they would have done *it* there and then.

After that, the group opened up to me and told me about themselves and such. Someone had burned several discs, but the boom box wouldn't play them. It must have been an older model.

"My truck’s sound system could play them.”

"Or she could play for you.”

"What?” someone asked.

"Joanie has her guitar and an amplifier along with her. The truck has lots of power outlets. I've heard her in person, and she's really good.

"Want to do it, Joanie?” Eric asked.

"I will if you want me to, Eric.” ~~Nothing in the rules says I can’t flirt with him, within reason. And if he keeps talking about me that way I'll be beyond reasoning with. Fourteen. He's ONLY fourteen ... crap, crap, crap!~~

I had this inspiration, insight, call it what you will, ~~Maybe that's why I'm so successful as a singer. I have all this pent up lus ... desire and music is a safe outlet -- that and running. A round-trip to Key West ought to do it,~~

Eric's suggestion was a good one. I had numerous songs recorded on a hard drive built into the amplifier. And why not? It made for a great practice tool. The guitar was wireless as was the pair of microphones that came with the amplifier. The electronics for what amounted to a mini-portable recording studio, and the simple receiver for the guitar and microphone signals, easily fit in the amplifier. I could play and amplify just the guitar and my voice or play along with a previously recorded piece. I even had wireless effects pedals.

I plugged into my truck and fired up the amplifier, at a moderate volume -- have to be neighborly, after all. Soon, I was happily in the groove, playing some of my favorites much to the delight of Mel and Eric. My sister looked at me and was crying; her husband comforted her. Fortunately, the others didn’t notice it, they were too busy enjoying my impromptu concert. I stopped so we could eat, to applause from a considerable crowd of fellow tailgaters. A few asked for autographs, but for the most part they behaved themselves. My sister whispered in my ear, "I started crying when I realized Mom never will hear you. You are great, Sis.” I broke down sobbing in her arms.

"What's the matter, Joanie, are you okay?" the youngest woman present asked.

"I ... I ... She told me that her late mother would have loved my singing, and it made me think of mine. Ghod, I miss her!"

My sister did her best to comfort me, given the limitations concealing our real relationship imposed on us. Several of the ladies escorted me to the nearest women's room, where they helped me clean up the mess I'd made of myself. They were all so kind it, made me all the more guilty I couldn't tell them who I'd been. This was one of the worst aspects of my new life, hiding who I was from so many I once knew.

They walked me back to our vehicles where a relieved brother and sister from Iowa were waiting. "I wanted to come with you, but they said no, I should keep an eye on your stuff, and that they'd make sure you were alright. I'm so sorry. I should have done something!" Mel was quite distressed. Eric's frustration at not being able to publicly console me was evident.

"It's okay, Mel. The gals were right. It's a big crowd. They know the layout here; you don't. It was safer for you this way. I know you wanted to, dear. That's all that matters and thanks." I gave her a warm hug, and she cheered-up. "Give your brother a hug for me." I whispered. The smile on his face after was almost as good as hug ... almost.

* * * *

A security utility cart came up minutes later. "Are you Ms. Joan Brown, better known as Joanie the singer?”

"Yes.”

"Come with us please?”

"I’m responsible for Mel and Eric here. I can’t just leave them. Have I done something wrong, officer?”

The officers looked confused. They called into their radios for instructions. "You’ve done nothing wrong. We’re instructed to bring you to the Team offices. Your two young friends are welcome.”

"What about our seats and our tailgating friends?”

"This shouldn’t take long, and we’ll escort you to your seats when necessary. Bring your guitar and amp please.”

I gave my sister a set of spare keys to my truck so she could lock it, if I didn’t get back in time.

* * * *

We were driven to the ball park and led to a VIP elevator, one of those you need a key for. Security guarded my instrument. We got to the executive level and were escorted inside.

"Ms. Brown this is an unexpected pleasure. Given the controversy with Summerfest, I am surprised you are in town. If you're wondering why you are up here, one of the security cameras in the parking lot caught your impromptu concert, and we sent the officers to check it out....”

I recognized the man, the former majority owner, and current Commissioner of Baseball.

"I’m from the area and was visiting an old friend. I was invited to the tailgate, because I have accounts at the bank, and I am friends with one of the tellers.”

"Would you like to perform for us tonight?’

"No. I’m here to watch game with two of my best friends in the world. I do love performing, but this is their vacation *you* are interrupting, and it bothers me. I’m sorry to seem cross, but I feel like you’ve imposed on them. This is their vacation as much as it is mine. If it was just me, it would be different.”

"Mister, what do you want Joanie to do?” Mel asked, the little politician-in-training that she is.

"There is the Star Spangled Banner, and we often have a celebrity first pitch.”

"Joanie wouldn’t miss any of the game, would she, and would we have help finding our seats?”

"You could sit in the owner’s box.”

"It's a generous offer, but I think Joanie would want to sit with her friends from the bank. Cutting out on them would be rude,” Mel added.

~~ You are the daughter of a politician, Mel. That was a slick move and nicely done too.~~ If it had been up to me I would have castrated the man for spoiling my day -- either that or fucked him to death. The close proximity of Eric had me so wound up. having the object of my desires at my fingertips, yet unable to act on those desires, had me very high strung. I think I know how a drug addict feels. Eric was my drug, and I so needed a *fix.* I forced myself to remain calm.

"Eric, what do you think? This is your and your sister's vacation after all.”

"I think you should sing. You’ll sit with us after, right, Joanie?”

"I’ll do it so long as someone will let the tailgaters know we’ll meet them in our seats.”

"We can do that. Anything else?”

"We’re missing out on a tailgate.”

"We can get you a variety of our best concessions food.”

"That will do. My friends here are teenagers, and you know how they eat."

"We'll make sure they are well taken care of, Joanie"

"I’d like to practice a bit, both the song and the pitching? I know singing in a stadium is very different than in a theater, for instance. Plus I throw like a girl!”

Mel giggled; Eric tried not to laugh but failed miserably.

"That can be arranged,” the Commissioner added, then made a few phone calls.

* * * *

Eric and Mel were offered a choice to tag along with me or go on a VIP tour of the place, then be escorted to their seats shortly before game time. They chose the tour; hey, it was with the Commissioner.

One of the pitching coaches took me to the bullpen and showed me how to throw. They didn’t expect anything hard and fast. I doubt they expected me to get it to the plate on one hop. A catcher got in position. I noticed they had a radar setup and readout for training purposes. There were several video cameras as well. But then baseball is big business these days. Anything that gave the team an edge was a potential money maker.

"It's a lot further to the plate in the pros than most realize," the catcher said as he handed me the ball. "Think you're up to it?"

"I’ll give it a try.”

I threw a simple, overhand fastball, but not all out. I wanted accuracy and to shock them. Okay, I wanted to show off, satisfied? After a few tries I was getting it to the catcher with ease.

"How fast was that?”

They smiled at me thinking probably 'Let’s humor the pretty gal'; that and 'Look at the rack on her.'

"Try again. We have the radar on."

"How was that?” I saw the readout; 70mph, a nice speed ... for a change-up. A fastball it was not.

"You're not bad, Ms Brown. Try a few more.”

I was getting used to it, so I started throwing harder. That and their humoring me had rubbed me a little raw.

"That was excellent! 85 miles an hour.” He sounded impressed.

"Can I do a couple more?”

I threw one hard. They looked at the readout, then me, then at the readout again.

"Was that any good?”

"We’re not sure the radar was working right. Try one again, as hard as you feel comfortable with.”

I threw as hard as I could. -- THWACK -- The catcher's mitt emitted an audible *pop*. He shook his hand afterwards; I think it stung a bit. Part of me wanted to shout "Hard enough for you?" I could see their shocked expressions, as they looked at the readout.

"Well, how did I do?”

"Have you ever considered pro ball, Joanie?” the pitching coach asked.

"Huh?”

"That last pitch was 116 miles an hour and in the strike zone.” He was dead serious.

"But I’m a mutant and a girl; there must be rules about it.” Their change in attitude had me off balance.

"I’m not telling anyone; you’re not telling anyone, are you?” the coach asked the catcher who shook his head and grinned. I gave them hugs for being sweet and only staring at my breasts for a little while. So they weren't perfect gentlemen, but who cares? Plus the catcher had a really tight ass. Probably from all that ... crouching. Hands up everyone who thought I'd say something like "ball handling"?

* * * *

As the game was about to start, the PA came on. "Welcome to Miller Park. Tonight, we have a former local girl who in less than one year has make a big name for herself. Please join with Joanie in singing our national anthem.”

I walked out onto the field to solid applause; when they flashed my name and image on the fiber optic screens, the applause became much louder. There were a few boos, but that’s to be expected, with my being a mutant and their being ass-holes -- I mean misinformed individuals. They had equipped me with a pair of radio ear buds and a wireless mic, so the echo from the sound system wouldn’t confuse me.

"In the key of G everybody. Please sing with me. Don't be shy!"

I sang, ignoring the reflected sound and that of the forty-thousand plus fans in the stands singing in forty-thousand different keys. I concentrated on the music in my ear buds. I stopped to the sounds of ”Play ball!” and deafening cheers. It was a warm day, and I was dressed with a lot of skin showing, but I think they were applauding my performance. I do have a nice figure, but at that distance you can’t see much *detail*. We skipped doing the first pitch, but they kept it in mind for another time. I was escorted to my friends in the bleachers, to the astonishment of people we passed. A few extra police hung around to discourage people crowding us. I noticed they were all female.

"Where did you get the caps and team jackets?” Eric and Mel each had a Brewers cap and were holding team warm-up jackets -- real ones, not the cheap printed Tyvek shells.

"The equipment manager got us these,” Mel said grinning. I noticed all the tailgaters had caps.

"They gave us caps and coupons for free beverages, in apology for disturbing us,” my sister explained.

"All I had time for was a plate of waffle fries with nacho cheese sauce and a Coke. I feel deprived,” I giggled ... "Where is my guitar?”

I was getting worried. Oh, I knew they’d return it but when? ~~ Sit back and watch the game. Worry about that later. It’s not like you can’t replace it, except for all those unreleased music tracks on the ... ~~ Now I was worried.

* * * *

The game went well. We won, though our best pitcher went out with yet another injury. A hang nail or was it rising damp... something serious. An officer returned my guitar and amp to me and apologized for not doing so earlier, She got a hug and a kiss; she was cute. Most of the bank gang were going to a sports tavern after the game, so we said our goodbyes and headed off for our motel -- well to find one. I mean, how hard is it to find a motel at nine-thirty at night on a Saturday? We ended up at my dad's. He was glad for the company and was leaving early the next morning for my uncle's cabin up north, so it was no big deal, We promised to lock up for him, and that was that. I slept in my old bed dreaming of when I was a little girl and this yucky boy Eric kept teasing me, until I suddenly got older and I started teasing him. I have weird dreams. You want to hear about the one with Sigmund Freud holding this huge banana? Or am I remembering an old comedy skit?

* * * *

To be contiued soon.

Chapter 12 should be complete in three more posts.

Please comment. It's the only way I'll learn.

-- GRIN --

John in Wauwatosa

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction, Chapter 12 part 6 of 8

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?

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)."
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, 2005-201208.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4, part 6 of 8

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Homonymphone herding by Holly Hart
Um, that means they proofed it &/or otherwise saved you from me.

Chapter 12, Sitting Pretty, V a c a t i o n

Various locations in Iowa and Wisconsin, June 03-16, 2007

Sunday June 10, 2007

Dad left quietly in the pre-dawn. I never woke, though I think he kissed me goodbye. Let's see, it was wet, warm, possibly furry, but it didn't purr, so it wasn't one of the cats waking me to be fed. It was Dad. Dad left a note saying we could have all the eggs and stuff we wanted, and not to worry; he'd eaten before he left. Mel and Eric expressed interest in attending church. Their parents had exposed them to many faiths, not trying to force them one way or another. Plus it was good politics.

"My Boy Scout troop was the same when we went on weekend camp-outs. I’m not a terribly religious person, but I don’t deny there is something out there. My last year tells me something beyond the world I knew must exist, so sure, I’ll take you.”

They decided the nearest church was fine so we went to the early service at ... I won’t name them, but they are a small yet important branch within the greater Lutheran church. I used to be friends with kids who went there; some were my neighbors, in fact.

I explained to an usher my friends and I were visiting and wanted to attend. We were welcomed and took seats towards the rear, so as not to be too obvious, but far enough to the front to see and hear well. The service was fairly standard; I recognized a couple of the hymns though the hymnals made that easy. I noted the nods and smiles from many of the worshipers, when they heard my singing. Everything went well, until the minister got into his sermon; the subject was temptation and sin; a classic, right? The problem was mutants featured prominently among the latest sins of man, in the pastor’s view. I was increasingly uncomfortable.

Mel kept her cool but was upset. She held my hand and whispered in my ear, "If you want to leave, I understand. This must hurt.”

"It’s okay so long as it’s only words,” I whispered back. I noticed Eric’s hand touching my other hand as if to say "I won’t let them hurt you.” This not being able to express our attraction openly was hard on both of us. I gave his hand an appreciative squeeze back.

The service ended, and we waited for the crowd to thin. I suspected a few recognized me, but they said nothing. But think of it from their perspective, what were the odds of my being in their church? We got up to go, and I thanked several people.

"I was impressed by your singing. You could be a professional with that voice and good looks.” I struggled not to react. "Are you from the area? We are always looking for new members.”

"I used to live in town but moved to New England last year. I’m visiting friends and family with my best friends Eric and Melissa. They wanted to attend services, so here we are.”

" It’s nice that you came. I must compliment you on how well behaved you all were; many teenagers are not.”

Mel giggled. "I’m not a teenager, yet, though my brother is. As to my friend, I’m not sure what age she is sometimes. She is a high school teacher, really, and my best friend ever.”

The pastor asked what we thought of the sermon. I found it hard to comment.

"Ah ... I understand the concept of Man and sin but some of it I ... I have a hard time with labeling people; surely life is more complex than that.”

"I’ll answer that if I can; what do you mean by labeling people?”

I couldn’t speak.

"She thinks it’s not fair to lump people together under a label and assume they are all good or all bad.”

"Like my sister says, grouping or stereotyping isn’t fair. I was taught everyone is their own person, with free will and all that. It is how you act in life that determines if you are good or bad and not whether you are a certain race or faith.”

"Yeah, that’s it, brother. How can anyone say all mutants are sinners? I’ve met several, and they were normal, decent people.”

"Ah, so it's the bit about mutants that confuses you? I assure you mutants are, like many sinners, skilled at deception, at lying, but a godly person can see through the deception.”

"So if I were to tell you I am a mutant…” I said trying not to knee him one in the happy sacks. Not that *I* would ever....

"You a mutant? Hardly! I can’t imagine you as one of those.” At that, Eric laughed, and Mel got furious.

"A mutant saved my life. I’d be dead if not for her. Joanie, let's go, I don’t like it here.”

"I was there. My sister would have died, if not for a mutant.

"Let’s go,” Eric said, barely concealing his displeasure at the man.

"We’d best be going. My friends have strong opinions, but then they are from a family of politicians. Thanks for your hospitality, but like my friends, I have to differ with you on the mutant issue. There are some bad mutants, even some evil ones, but no more so than in the general population. There are also many decent mutants, and *I* know this for a fact.” I leaned in close. "I teach at a school for mutants. Some of my closest friends are mutants," 'but ... then, so am I.' I completed in my mind.
We walked away, and I thought I heard some insults aimed at us. I ignored it, until someone muttered "mutant lovers”. I could take an insult, but they’d insulted my friends.

"Oh, what the heck.” I ran back, did my time stop, and left the man standing in public with his pants over his head. Okay, it was his suit coat but 'in my heart' it was his pants. Now if he had said anything to insult my friends ...

* * * *

"Remind me never to get you angry,” Eric said as Mel laughed. We did take a round-about way back to Dad's house, just in case.

* * * *

I wanted to take my friends bike riding on some of the state rails-to-trails routes. These are former railway and inter-urban lines that were abandoned but saved as recreational corridors. My 20-year-old mountain bike needed a tune-up and new tires but otherwise was fine; the frame size would fit my female body well. The kids needed bikes, though; something modern. Eric helped load my bike in the truck, and we drove out to Brookfield, where my former neighbor worked. They opened Sunday mornings during the summer, so I was confident we’d be ready to ride by later that day.

We walked in the shop; several obvious regulars were at the parts counter eying the latest accessories, pedals or whatever. Computer geeks, gaming geeks, bicycle geeks, same deal.

"Can I help you, ma’am?” a very tall muscular man in his early fifties asked. It was my former neighbor.

"I need my Cannondale tuned up. I’ve not ridden it in several years, so if it needs new brake pads, tires, tubes, whatever, do it. I’ll trust you to know what is needed. Oh, and a battery for the odometer, a new emergency repair kit and pump, and I want to buy a good bike for each of my dear friends.”

"Your bike, ma’am?” he asked.

"Eric has it.

"Eric, over here.” I waved, and Eric wheeled it over.

He looked at the bike. He looked hard at it, then he looked at me.

”Do you know John? ... I recognize his old mountain bike. The custom speedometer sensor mount is unmistakable. He made the mount, and I remember him showing me. How is he? I haven't seen him in some time.”

"I got it from him after his illness. You’d never recognize him, he’s changed so much.” Then I whispered, "But you haven’t, except maybe an extra gray hair or two. You're everything he says you were,” and I kissed him. "Not bad at all. I don’t know why some woman hasn’t snapped you up. You’re built like a Nordic god ... and everywhere too,” I said as I glanced downward. "If you want, maybe someday we can go out dancing, show the local babes what they are missing?”

"I-I-have a girlfriend.”

"About time, congrats! You tell her, for me, she’s made a good choice. Sorry to kid you like that, but John said you were a good sport. So how about fixing up Eric and Mel with some decent bikes? Something similar to mine but modern, not this antique ... the bike I mean.”

I had him totally flustered, but he recovered, and in little over an hour we had bikes selected and adjusted to fit. He needed to mount the lights, speedometers and other accessories I wanted. Bringing my old bike up to spec would take the most work, but then I was fond of the *old* Cannondale.

"When will they be ready?”

"I can have them ready tomorrow.”

"Can you do it before you close today? I’ll pay extra for rush service, if it helps.”

"There are only the two of us here.”

"I’ll give you a bunch of autographed photos you can use to promote the shop. You can honestly claim I am a *satisfied* customer." I licked my lips, slowly. "I’ve got my digital camera along; I’ll pose for photos with you in the shop. I bet the drugstore on the other end of the mall can make huge blowups in an hour or so, my treat? Pretty please?” I was acting totally shameless: doe eyes, fluttering lashes, voice dripping with lust. It was so much fun, too. Poor Eric and Mel could hardly contain themselves.

"I'll have them done by two PM; you have my word, ma'am."

He got to work on our bikes immediately, while his coworker called in one of their off-duty mechanics to help out. Eric snapped our pictures. I took them to the drugstore; it was part of a nationwide drugstore chain with 'Wal' as part of the name ... NOT ending in 'mart'. They downloaded the photos I wanted and said the posters would be ready in just over an hour.

Back at the bike shop, we tried on helmets, riding gloves and the like. We added them to the total, along with several day bags to carry tools, water-bottles/holders, a first-aid kit and such. I got a set of saddlebags for each bike to carry our spare clothes, cyclist's raincoats, lunches and the like, plus the needed racks to mount them on. Overkill, I know, but it pays to be prepared. They assured me those would be ready, as well, in the time available. I noticed two extra workers come in, and three were now working nonstop prepping our bikes. After this we left for lunch. I had to sign a few dozen autographs for the modest crowd that had gathered, but it was a joy.

* * * *

We drove the few miles east to Mayfair Mall where we window-shopped and got some lunch. Mel got a hot bathing suit at a women's shop, and I bought these sexy ankle boots. I already had a hot bathing suit; any hotter and I'd start a fire. The crowd let us be for the most part, though there was this incident when I bent over to tie a loose boot lace. Just because I had changed into these cute running shorts Mel had spotted and a matching Daisy Duke top was no reason to act like they were struck blind. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured in the pile-up. Thank Ghod I didn't do that by the escalator.

We drove back to the bike shop around one o'clock. Fifteen minutes later, they had finished. By two, we were on our way. I gave them a big tip and several wet kisses for their hard work. They even helped mount a carrier rack in my truck bed and secured the bikes for us.

* * * *

We made a quick call to reserve a motel suite for the night then stopped at my sister's. Dad would not have minded, but two nights in a row might have outed him as my dad and all the danger that would entail. My sister's condo was far too small to impose.

"I wish we had more time to talk, but at the ball park, we had to be careful.”

"And I had all these embarrassing stories about you to tell your friends, particularly to Eric. You know, I have copies of your baby pictures.”

"Sis, that’s not fair!”

"No, it isn’t. Tell me, tell me, please?” whined Mel.

"Do you want to have to call your dad to come and pick you up, Mel? Eric, I’m glad to see you stayed quiet.”

"I was in trouble either way, so I figured I’d better shut up. If it comes down to it, Mel, I’d have to side with Joanie, sorry.”

"He is besotted with you, isn’t he,” my sister replied.

"You have extraordinarily good taste and a strong sense of self preservation ... right, Eric?”

"Oh! Joanie, you are my world! I worship the ground you walk on. ...”

"That will do for now, slave. You may lick my boots later ... and *other things* if you are very good." I couldn’t help myself and giggled. Eric fixed that by hugging me until I calmed down. How he behaves himself after all my teasing amazes me.

We spent a couple hours talking back and forth. It was like old times but even better.

"I missed you so, Joanie, and I am enjoying this immensely, but we’re scheduled to man pledge phones down at MATC in a hour.”

"Channels 10 and 36 studios?” She nodded yes. "I’ll ... I mean we’ll come. I know Mel and Eric are too young to work the phones, but seeing the studio will be fun, and they know how to behave. They’ve been on TV often, what with their dad’s and grandfather’s campaigns.”

"My brother and I are used to press conferences and all. We know not to talk when we shouldn’t or run around when ... I know I messed up on *that* one last Labor Day, but you know what I mean.”

"It would freak the PBS people, Hon,” Tony said.

"Get dressed in something nice, but casual -- NORMAL casual, not YOUR kind of casual, Miss July -- and come along. I just know I’ll regret this, but I can’t resist my husband and his puppy dog eyes.”

* * * *

It took under fifteen minutes to get to the downtown studios. They are located in a sprawling Milwaukee Area Technical College campus -- they have several -- near the heart of everything, the County Court House, City of Milwaukee Safety Building, the Bradley Center and the Wisconsin Center convention complex. I let my sister drive my baby as there was major freeway construction, um reconstruction, okay let's be honest, destruction ongoing near the campus, and the usual route to the studios was blocked. My New Hampshire plates surprised the woman at the entrance to the secure parking, but my sister told her why we were there, and we parked.

"Follow me closely; this building is confusing if you turn wrong.” The Johnsons kept close to my heels.

We walked to the elevators and rode to the top floor where the TV studios were located.

My sister spotted the volunteers’ coordinator.

"I brought an extra hand along for the phones. She did have to bring her traveling companions with her. They are too young for the phones but are used to being on TV and willing to help or just watch quietly.”

"And they are?”

"Hi, I’m Eric Johnson and this is my sister Melissa, or Mel as she prefers to be called.”

"Our dad is the Governor of Iowa. We’re here on vacation with our dearest friend. We promise to stay out of the way and not get in any trouble. We're used to being around television cameras.”

"Thank you, Mel. I recognize you and your brother from the media. Maybe we can arrange a tour of the studio later, if you’d like.”

"I’d like that and so would my brother ... I’m sorry; I forgot to introduce my friend, I mean OUR dearest friend.” Mel giggled.

"That’s okay, Mel, it’s been a long day; I’ll introduce myself. Hi! I’m Joan, but everyone calls me Joanie. I’ve been a pledge phone operator before, so I’m looking forward to this ... You can roll up your tongue, and press your eyeballs back in their sockets, if you like. You look like you’ve seen some big celebrity. Is there a place where my friends can watch where they won’t be in the way?”

Mel and Eric were snickering. My sister and her husband struggled valiantly not to laugh.

"I ... I’ll l-let the f-floor director know.”

The now glassy-eyed volunteer coordinator walked off, more like stumbled off as she almost tripped on a camera cable. My old sci-fi club members crowded around me.

"What are you doing here, Joanie?”

"Answering pledge phones, duh, and for the free food. You?”

"Joanie, that was mean,” Mel said.

"Well, it's true! And I’m here to say 'Hi' again to my Doctor Who friends. Still geeky as ever? Hands up everyone who owes a "sonic screwdriver".” I laughed, and they knew I was kidding. FYI, they ALL owned at least one. My sister has two if you must know.

We chatted a little then were called into the studio as a pledge break was due shortly. For those who don’t know, public broadcasting gets almost no government aid in the US anymore and relies on memberships and corporate donations for the vast bulk of its operating expenses. I've been to too many of these pledge drives, haven't I?

"Who of you have done this before?” All of us raised our hands, and the coordinator smiled.

"Good. The first break is around a cooking show and the premiums are ...” She described the premiums offered to encourage the listeners to pledge at certain levels. "After this break, our next is at 6:43 and is the first of three during NOVA.”

I struggled not to giggle. The on-air talent took their marks, and we were on. I did note both looking in my direction, just before we went live.

"Wasn’t that great? We bring these programs to you, our viewers, because of your pledges of support....” the typical spiel if you watch PBS with any regularity. The talent was a host of a locally-produced outdoors/sporting show and was aided by one of the show’s on-air correspondents. They switched back and forth, describing the need for donations and the benefits of joining the local PBS volunteers association.

"This evening we have something you can only see on Public Television. Commercial television simply doesn’t do the kind of in-depth documentaries you can see on public television. We are privileged to preview this fall's big NOVA landmark special on mutants ...”

I admit my life seems to be this string of incredible coincidences, but this happened. I’m not joking. I broke into a smile and fought to stop from laughing, not easy with this body and the giggly over-the-top teenage emotions I am saddled ... I mean blessed with.

The on-air talent described the benefits of being a member of The Friends of Public Television and so on, doing their best to guilt you into pledging. The break was nearly over when....

"We are particularly privileged to present this NOVA preview to you, as it is hosted and narrated by a former Milwaukee-area native, now prominent mutant, Joanie. This show is a must see. Please enjoy tonight’s programming, and please consider pledging at one of the thank you gift levels.”

We went off air and the *talent* discussed with the floor director what to do for a later break. One of the video crew asked, "Do any of you want to watch this? We can feed the sound down here to the monitors. Word is this NOVA is exceptionally good.”

"Not me! I can’t stand to watch her. Frankly, her acting sucks, and she’s an airhead. She'd need a personality transplant just to tell her apart from a manikin.”

Mel and Eric who had been perfect angels up to now started laughing uncontrollably. My poor sister and brother-in-law looked apoplectic, and the sci-fi club people near me -- Joanie that is -- weren’t much better off.

One of the *talent* overheard and had to see what was going on.

"Could you please keep it down? We’re trying t .. to ... You’re her!?”

"Last time I looked, I was me. I’m Joan, but you can call me Joanie. Sorry I got so loud, but I do have a hard time watching myself. I am glad I narrated the NOVA. From what I’ve learned in the last year, it’s accurate and balanced, unlike a certain other network that uses that catchphrase.

"I’m so rude; Eric, Mel? This handsome young man is Eric Johnson and the lovely heart-breaker, standing next to him, is his sister Melissa or Mel. We met last Labor Day.”

* * * *

The next pledge break *I* was *talent*, rigged with a mic and everything. We’d worked out a *deal* during the intervening time. The PBS station manager was pleased and then some.

"Hi, I’m Joan; many of you know me as Joanie. I’m a long time viewer of public television and a sometimes volunteer phone operator like the good gals and guys behind me. I looked a little different, back then.” I was amazed my sister and brother-in-law didn’t have seizures.

"I had the great pleasure of narrating the NOVA miniseries on mutants. They seemed to think I was recognizable as one.” I giggled; I do it at the strangest times, too. "Whatever your personal beliefs towards mutants, from positive to negative, I urge you to watch this NOVA miniseries. It is remarkably informative, given the limited time they have. And if you are a young man, you get to see and hear me a lot; so even if you can’t stand documentaries, it will be a treat.” That had Eric, off in the wings, blushing, and Mel struggling not to laugh.

"This public station needs your help. Government funding is essentially non-existent. They can’t use advertising dollars like commercial TV. We get no funds from the cable or satellite systems so don't think your subscription helps to support us, as it doesn't. As generous as the corporate and foundation donations are, would you want that to be their sole source of funds? PBS thrives as an independent voice because of you, the donating viewers, who insist on their impartiality in serving the public interest.

"I have a special incentive to encourage your pledge.' I remembered this idea from the radio side of public broadcasting. "Any pledge made and paid to this station during this year's June pledge drive, and I am including those already pledged, will be matched, by me, dollar-for-dollar until they reach their funding goal. Any pledges beyond that I will match three dollars to every one dollar pledged and paid. The sales of my music have gone very well, and I can afford this gesture. Please be generous, and make me regret this rash act.” I giggled.

"I'll turn the mic over to the Station Manager, and he will tell you how to pledge.”

The phones, which had been all but dead, all rang. There were a lot of crank calls and anti-mutant protesters, but the bulk were legitimate. The response was amazing. We extended the break an extra ten minutes to handle them all, and I took as many calls as I could. A number of people called in to up their previous pledges, when they learned of the matching grant. We were so busy, the station let Eric handle a line and Mel was a runner, picking up complete pledge forms as soon as they were done. They had a great time.

Half an hour later, the pledge coordinator had a tally for the break. She looked exhausted but happy. "This is one for the record books...." I cringed. I made arrangements for them to contact me via email, when the pledge drive was over and the pledges verified. I ended up writing a very big check. Me and my big sexy mouth!

* * * *

Monday June 11, 2007

Monday, we took a early ride to get used to our bikes. Everything went well. They'd done an excellent prep job on the bikes, so we were ready for our big ride on Tuesday. It was still morning, so I took them on a quick sightseeing tour of town. We stopped at UW-Milwaukee, and I led them on a walking tour of the main campus. Lots had changed since I’d last been there but much was familiar. The early summer session was on -- the twelve week, late May through mid August session, not the shorter, eight week main summer session -- so the campus was relatively quiet. BTW if you understood what I just wrote, please explain it to me. Thanks.

We bought a few souvenirs in the Student Union Book Store -- T-shirts and mugs mostly. I sorely wanted to buy some of the more, um adult items like the classic bikini bottoms -- AKA panties --with the smirking UWM Panther mascot on it, but that would have been tempting fate what with how I feel about you know who.

They have this small, but well equipped, athletic wear/sporting goods store in the same building, where we got additional padded cycling shorts and windbreakers/rain jackets to supplement what we’d purchased at the bicycle shop. Money IS money. You don't need to be a student or an alumni to make a purchase.

We stopped at one of the Student Union's outdoor food booths, as the weather was nice, and got a light early lunch. I’d gotten a few looks as we walked around, but on a college campus, I was a pretty girl in a sea of pretty young woman, albeit I was one of the taller ones and ... alright I’m drop-dead gorgeous. I admit it, does that make you feel better? As we ate, I got a lot of looks, and the sharks started circling.

"Morning, good looking! Are you a new student? I don’t remember seeing you before, and I’d remember a woman like you.”

He was tall, athletic and confident; a bit too confident for my taste. I stood up and found I was nearly as tall as him, so I was not intimidated.

"I’m flattered; though let’s face it, that is a terrible chat-up line.”

He seemed pleased, until I dropped the bomb on him. "I’d consider going out with you, if it weren’t for a few things. I already have someone I’m seeing exclusively. It would cut him to his soul, if I cheated on him, and I’d hurt even worse. I’m not a student here, I’m visiting from the East coast and don’t want any complications. And to be a bit rude, there is no way you could keep up with me.”

"My, are you full of yourself.” He lost his cool.

"Just stating the facts. I’m a mutant, an exemplar and a regen, technically. You’d die from exhaustion, before I was even sore down there.”

"You’re joking.”

"She’s not. I played a friendly game of one on one basketball with her, and she wore me out. I’m one of the best athletes in my school. She could have mopped the floor with me, if she wanted to, and she’s a family friend.”

A student who’d run my purchase in the bookstore walked by, on break I assumed. "Move on; you're not in her league. Not even close." He left, tail between his legs.

She walked to our table. "Ms Brown, um ... can I have your autograph? I recognized you at once, and I assume this lovely young woman is the one you rescued last Labor Day.

"You will be very beautiful by the time you are my age. You're already a head turner; Melissa, is it?”

Mel blushed.

"I'm a journalism major, so I follow the news.

"And you must be her brother, um, Eric?”

She came closer and whispered in Eric’s ear. "I noticed how you look at Joanie, and though she hides it well, how she looks at you. You are a very lucky man to have gained her favor; don’t you ever make her regret that.”

"N-n-no, ma’am,” he whispered back.

I didn't mean to listen in, but I'm glad I did. I resolved to be more discreet in the future, or our future, Eric's and mine, was a bleak one.

The rest of our lunch went well, except for the occasional collision between students who were paying attention to me and not where they were walking. We left and drove a couple miles south, so I could do some banking. You're all going, "Huh?" aren't you? Hang in there, it will make sense in a minute.

* * * *

We parked, and the three of us entered the early sixties building. The lobby was quiet at the moment, with only a couple customers at the teller windows.

"You two wait over in the customer lounge, while I take care of this. I shouldn’t be long.”

I walked up to the first window and was greeted by a blond woman who nearly bit her tongue in surprise.

"Good afternoon, and how can I ... Oh my god!” That got the attention of her coworkers. They couldn’t see me from where they were, what with the high counter dividers and the bulletproof glass, but their customers noticed. They began ignoring what they had come in to do to watch me instead.

I broke the silence. "I got this bonus check from one of my employers. I don’t need the money anytime soon, so I’d like to open a CD. I saw your rate board and was thinking an 18 month sounded decent.”

"F-f-or how much?” Her sudden stuttering -- she NEVER stutters -- got more attention drawn my way.

"Sorry, here’s the check and my ID; I'm sure you’ll need that. I used to work in a bank myself. Make the CD out for the full amount. I'm in the system, so you shouldn't need my Social.”

She looked at the check and almost fainted. This was pure Heaven.

"A-a-ah, s-s-sure; let me get an ac-c-ccount packet, and I'll g-get you taken care of.”

Her supervisor came over and talked to her softly. The average person would not have overheard their conversation, but then I'm not average.

"What’s the matter? You’re never like this.”

"I-it’s who the CD is for, and who much, how much.”

"A celebrity, I take it?”

"Yeah, and I am certain it’s her. We’ve met before.”

"How much?”

"Yeah."

She handed her the check, the supervisor looked at it, saw my ID and the amount of the check and did this great dry spit take. I got really good service for some reason. And the branch manager took us to lunch, on her. Strange that. The fact that the poor rattled teller was my sister had absolutely nothing to do with the fun I had in the least. Like *I* would tease my baby sister!

* * * *

There was one last thing I need to do today. I stopped at a west side florist and bought three bunches each of a dozen long-stemmed red roses. We drove to my father's, parked, and I went in the house.

"Dad.”

"Joanie! I didn’t expect you back so soon.” Hearing dad call me Joanie almost had me in tears.

"Grab your keys and wallet. I have something I want to do for you, and I need you along. I think you’ll approve.”

Once we were in my truck, I drove to Brookfield and Wisconsin Memorial Park, Dad following in his sedan. He tried to keep a brave face on, but I could see the tears rising when we parked near a familiar evergreen hedge and red maple. I’d bought some florist’s foam and took out a water bottle from my built-in cooler. I handed Dad one of the bunches of roses.

"Dad, these are for Mom. I have stuff to make sure they stay in place and fresh for a while. Mel, Eric, help him, please?”

My two friends helped Dad to the grave site; his arthritis had flared up. It had to be weird to look at your own grave just waiting for you to be buried and the year screwed onto the bronze marker. Eric worked the vase free from its storage well and set it upright. Mel helped him put the flowers in it, using lots of foam to wedge them in place, followed by a good watering. We added a few tablespoons of that hygroscopic gel florists sell to retain water. We did the same, in turn, with my older sister’s grave and my maternal grandparents. I had a hard time not bawling at the gravesides, I missed them so. I bucked it up for my Dad. The florist had thrown in a couple spares as it was a nice sale, and those went on my stillborn cousins’ plot, as they had no formal marker.

"Dad, one last task. Tell me again how you and Mom met.”

I saw Dad tear up, so I knew this might take awhile.

"Mel, Eric, I’m not sure how long this will be. You can wait in the truck or walk around the grounds here. As cemeteries go, this one has a lot of wildlife. It was laid out to be as much a park as a cemetery.” I didn't want him to see me cry.

"We’ll stay with you. I'd like to hear about your mom. Death is part of life, after all,” Mel said.

"You are mature for your age, aren’t you, Mel,” my dad said, shocking me.

"Thank you, Mr. Brown; that was most kind.”

"Mel, that was sweet,” I said, giving her a hug.

Dad looked surprised for a moment then smiled. "I still marvel at how much like your mother you are. You sound like her; it's uncanny. You move and act like she used to. Don’t ever lose that, Joan.”

"I hope not, Dad.”

* * * *

Dad left first; it was chancy enough our being around him as it was. I knew what the consequences could be, if my male past was revealed -- for my family, that is. I suspected the press knew I was in town and had their eyes out for me. I offered to pay for a hedge of roses to be perpetually maintained near her grave, if the cemetery allowed it, but he said no, that my very presence was enough. I made a note to plant some roses at the farm to remember her, perhaps a semi-wild or old fashioned climbing-type to slowly weave it's way along a fence line. She would have liked that.

"Promise to remember us, when we are gone; that is all I ask. Your mother would have been so proud of you.” He hugged me then made his way painfully back to his car -- the years were catching up with him fast.

We tidied up the graves for a bit, and I got melancholy. My friends noticed it too and got down next to me and hugged me.

"I wish you could have met my mom."

I started to cry, and they both wrapped their arms around me. I felt this odd sensation; I'd not felt it since those tests with Sergi. I opened my eyes and the place had changed. The trees were much smaller and most of the buildings were gone. There were cultivated fields in several directions, where there should have been houses and businesses.

"Joanie, what happened?"

I knew but was embarrassed to say. "I, um, we are ... I mean ... I time traveled us back to June in 1941."

I saw three young women and two middle-aged folks, likely their parents. The youngest, the others looked five or ten years older, was leaning against a tree posing for her dad for a photo. She turned this way and that trying to get the perfect pose. She wore a smart looking skirt and top and two-tone shoes like a bobby-soxer might. She had this happy, confident look on her face, like she was eager for whatever the future would bring. She couldn't have been more than fifteen but had the figure of a college gal. I mean this girl was stacked, not that she was Rubensesque, far from it. I guessed her to be about 5 ft 5 and 100 pounds dripping wet if that. I mean she was hot even by our *Barbie Doll,* 21st-century standards.

I saw her face for a moment, as she turned. I don't think she noticed me, but I noticed her ... how could I not? She was holding the very pose from the color touched-up photo that was a feature in my grandparents' home. I did the only thing my overwhelmed mind could think of: I walked, holding my friends' hands tight, for a short distance until we were out of sight, then I fainted.

I woke in the present, my two friends clutching on to me like I was a life ring, and they were adrift at sea. We were back in the present.

"What was that?"

"The girl .. by the tree..." I gasped.

"The one in the blue skirt? She was pretty; she reminded me of you a little, Joanie."

"She should! That teenager was my mom!"

"Could you be wrong?"

"Eric, that photo Grandpa was taking was in their living room for years, then we had it in our home. Then there was that early forties, four-door Mercury parked nearby. That was their car; I rode in it as a little kid. Grandpa was so proud of it, he kept it almost twenty-five years."

"No wonder you were crying, seeing your mom again."

"I wish I could have introduced you to her, but who would have believed I was her future son/daughter? Ghod! I'm such a worthless freak!"

Eric turned my head and looked me in the eyes. "I'll tell you this, Joanie, as pretty as your mom was, she has nothing on you." He kept looking at me, determination and love in his face. I caught a glimpse of the man he would become and ... Ghods! I wanted him, but I loved him too much to ruin it. I composed myself and smiled.

"Words like that will get you in a lot of trouble."

"How?"

"Fending me off! En Garde!" I gave a quick look around, kissed him, then tickled him until he cried uncle. Mel wisely stayed out of it, giggling all the while. I couldn't stay melancholy, with those two around.

* * * *

After calling to make sure Dad was home safe, we drove to Madison and our motel rooms for the night. Our bikes were secure in my truck bed. We stopped at the University of Wisconsin Medical Center to pay a courtesy call to Dr Sara. With my passes and face, we were soon inside the high security *mutant wing*. A number of the staff called out to me and smiled as they remembered me from my initial convalescence after my burnout. I got to the main nurses’ station for Sara’s department and was greeted by a young woman working reception. She looked at me, and her face lit with joy.

"Joanie, it’s so good to see you again!”

"I apologize, but I don’t remember you.” This shocked me, for reasons you will soon understand.

"I’m not surprised; I’ve changed considerably since we last met. Take a look, and tell me what you think.” She positively radiated enthusiasm, and her sultry voice was a perfect complement.

She got out from behind the counter, walked towards us and turned slowly so we could see her. I saw an utterly enchanting young woman of mixed ancestry. Picture Tia Carrere at eighteen, twenty tops -- the Hawaiian actress/model -- blended in equal parts with Nicole Kidman, J-Lo and Jeri Ryan of Seven-of-Nine/Star Trek fame. The woman had Tia’s dark, lustrous hair, caramel skin, athleticism and mixed Asian features tempered with Ms. Kidman’s height, slender limbs and angelic face. Add to that a booty J-Lo would die for and a chest that compared favorably to Jeri’s and with mine.

This woman was stacked, but tastefully so -- you get the idea. She moved with hypnotic grace, and her age defied my guessing. There was not a wrinkle or sag on her that I noticed, and with puppies like hers, you’d expect some. Then again I defy gravity too, so who am I to judge? That suggested she was in her mid-to-upper teens, but she was far too *fleshed-out* to be a teen, but so am I. With no obvious traces of puppy fat and her abundant adult curves, she had to be, say, at least 25. Her confident manner and movement suggested someone maybe late-20s to 30-something. She was almost too perfect, but it worked; whoa, momma! This was one hot babe.

~~It’s like a much older woman has been placed in a brand new custom-built body ... No!? But it’s the only answer that makes sense.~~

"Donna, is that you?”

"There’s no fooling you is there, Joanie? Yes it’s me. I think the breasts are a bit over-the-top, but Gin and her thaumatologist friends insist this body is designed for them, and they will defy time and gravity, or so they claim. I admit they do defy men not to stare at them; it’s embarrassing at times. I mean just look at them.”

And I did. "Smokin’, Donna. You sure aren’t a member of the itty-bitty-titty club with those on your chest. I’m jealous! Woof!

"I have a hard time not staring at them myself.” She gave them a gentle lift, and we both started laughing.

"Welcome to my world, Donna. Honestly, you may be a *big* girl now, but they are in proportion to your figure given your height and all. What are you, five foot ten, eleven?” We both laughed.

"I’m just over six feet tall; nearly as tall as you, Stretch.”

"Okay, your figure is a bit extreme, granted, but I mean, this only makes up for a fraction of what you lost. Sorry, I didn't mean to." She smiled back so i knew I was forgiven my blonde moment. "I knew from Gin that they could help you, but ... Wow! I never expected this, you’re so HOT! Are you seeing anyone? I think I’m in l-l-l-love.” That broke us up again.

"They told me that this combination of my ancestry gives me the healthiest possible set of my own genes, yet I’m still me, essentially. I can’t say one way or another, but I do know this body is far more athletic than my old one, and I was a gymnast and cheerleader. I didn’t think a woman this tall or *built* could move like I can. This body is amazing; I can’t thank you and your friends enough for what you did for me.”

"Now I feel silly, but keep heaping on the praise; I love it.”

Donna laughed this glorious, sexy laugh. It was a joy to hear.

This was not the battered, sad, young widow lying in that hospital bed a few short months ago. Damn, but she was a resilient soul. I wondered if I'd have the courage to come back from all she'd experienced. I smiled back. " Have you told Tom or Tina yet?”

"I told them I would be undergoing the treatments, but I wanted to be fully recovered before we saw or talked each other again. We have kept in touch with email in the mean time.”

She was well satisfied with the outcome, I could tell. That new lower register voice of hers was charming and oh-so sexy sounding. ~~Come to think of it, I sound a lot like that ... Gin!~~

"They haven't noticed the changes in your voice? I mean, you had a pleasant voice before but now, hubba hubba, woof, zowie!" that got a laugh out everybody. Okay, yet another blonde moment. In my defense the new Donna was devastatingly distracting.

"Joanie dear, my children have not spoken to me or seen me since the treatments began." She smiled and it wasn't a 'You stupid blonde!' kind of smile. This was a smile of love and gratitude. "I told them I would not be as I was, that your friends would change me in significant ways. They know I could no longer look as I did for our safety. I just wanted them to hold off until they could see the whole picture, as it were. I’m visiting Whateley during the summer session, and I will have a long talk with Tom and Tina. The experts here say they can transform my children to what they would have been like if I was this way when they were conceived. They have offered to optimize my husband’s contributions to their genes just as they optimized mine. I’m assured their age can remain as it is or regressed to as little as to age seven, without any loss of their memories or skills. I love them as they are, but they will be even better, if they agree. It’s their choice. I had to do this for me. I couldn't go on as I was. I'm so sorry.”

"Don't blame yourself, Donna. Under similar circumstances I hope I would have your courage to embrace change. And it's not completely selfish. This way you help protect your kids, as no one can connect the new you to them.

"From my observations I can tell you Tom will not want to be much younger, unless a certain Mzzz Suzy gets the same treatment. The two of them are very close, Donna. I’m half afraid they’ll come to me one day and say she’s pregnant, but they are too responsible for that -- just. We're blood relatives and believe me I *know* what she's going through ... oh GHOD do I." I said and giggled nervously.

"Tom emails me often, now that I’m getting better; so does Tina. I think we’ll work something out. I want them as my children again, to hold and cherish, but they are nearly adults so I have to start letting go. If I have to play *big sister* to them so be it. Being a mom is not easy, Joanie, but it’s worth it. I wish their dad had survived, that’s all.” She began to cry, and we hugged each other.

She noticed Eric and Mel standing off to the side. They hadn’t wanted to interfere with our reunion. I could see they wanted to join in but didn’t know how.

"I’m sorry I didn’t say hello; please join us. I’m Donna, Tom and Tina’s mom. I know I look too young, but I am their mom, really. You must be Eric and Mel; my children have talked often about you. You’re going to be a beauty in a few years, Mel; I can see it.” Mel blushed. "And you young man, if you ever hurt my friend Joanie, I’ll make your life a living hell, understand?” He nodded. "Now give me a hug, so I can see what all the fuss is about.”

Eric gave her a tentative hug. Donna hugged him back, and he hugged her more firmly. After a few moments she gave him a tender kiss on the cheek.

"I see why you like him. Eric, do you want to dump this generic blond for a more exotic model?’ She cooed then laughed. Poor Eric blushed. "You’re safe from me, Eric; I like my men a bit older and unattached. You don’t have any single male cousins say twenty to thirty-five years of age? Your dad have a younger single brother ... hum?" She laughed then continued.

"I’m not kidding, Joanie, not totally. Eric is impressive for a teen; the man will be magnificent. I’m not ready to jump in the dating pool yet, but I will someday and Eric here has the potential to be a fine catch in a few years.” She looked at my Eric more than a little bit wistfully. I noticed the not so subtle signs of physical arousal in her but chose not to say anything. I wondered if he resembled her late husband in some way. I'd never met him. I only knew him from a few photographs their Tom and Susy showed me. Her subconscious but obvious reaction to Eric got my own body going. We might both be responsible adults in our minds, but our bodies had their own agenda.

"Hands off, Donna, this one is mine.” There was more hostility in my tone than I'd like to admit. What I did next worried me more. Anger, desire, and a frightening dose of jealousy fueled it. I gave Eric a hug and kiss, rather more intense than I intended... okay a LOT more intense. Ghod it was glorious! If it hadn't been for Mel rolling her eyes at us hormone-crazed creatures...

"Oh, pu-lease!”

We broke it up, reluctantly. "Mel, I can guarantee you in a very few years you will be as sex obsessed as we are. You’re going to drive your parents and the boys crazy.” I half-panted.

"No way! I’m a responsible person, I’ll never let my emotions rule me ... Oooh!... who is that walking over there?” She pointed down a corridor at a retreating figure. Her gaze was locked on him in a way I recognized, but then he has a nice ass... Scratch that, a great ass.

"That was Badger Boy, one of the MSG mutant supers. He’s been helping with my physical therapy. He’s very fit and rather sweet.”

"Um, how old is he?”

"He’s in college, and, yes, he’s single. At least he was when I lived here. He still unattached, Donna?"

"Absolutely, he's just a good friend. I have no designs on him."

"Mel, want me to set up a date?” I asked.

"Noooo, Joanie, I just, well...” She turned beet-red, but I could see all the signs in her; I knew them too well in myself.

"Scrap that, Donna. I’d say puberty has arrived early and in full force. The saints preserve us!” I broke into giggles and gave Mel a sisterly hug. "He is kinda cute for an older boy, isn’t he, Mel,” I whispered. "Don’t be embarrassed to notice a hot boy, but take your time to finish growing up. You are so very young. Hell, *I'm* too young for this.” Mel smiled back.

"Badger Boy!” I shouted out. "Please come here.”

He spun and ran down the long hall to us.

"Yes, Joanie? Great to see you by the way. Who are your guests?”

"These are Eric and Mel Johnson of Iowa, my good friends.”

"I should have known."

"Hi, I'm Badger Boy. Got to stick to my super secret code name you know." Then he laughed.

He shook Eric’s hand and turned to Mel.

"Welcome to Madison, Mel. Is that short for Mellisa?"

Mel looked at her feet nervously. I broke the impasse.

"Mel thinks you’re hot. She’s a state governor’s oldest daughter and a US Senator’s only granddaughter. She's young, beautiful, politically contected and loaded wink, wink.”

He grabbed her hand and knelt. He kissed the back of it and asked, "Will you marry me?”

"Joanie! That is not funny!” Mel shouted, but it was more like a stifled laugh. Then she gave Badger Boy a big hug and kissed him on the cheek lightly, many times; butterfly kisses, I think they are called. She giggled and backed away like she was dancing.

Ghods, she’s discovered boys. Babs will kill me.~~

"Ask me again a few years and I might say yes. Um ... can I write you?”

"Joanie?” Badger Boy looked near panic. Pre-teens lusting for his body was not something he was comfortable with.

"I’ll have to ask her mom; she’s not quite eleven. Let me call her.” I started dialing on my cell. They both looked panicked, so I stopped.

"Mel, Badger boy is a decent man, but he is an adult. It might not be seen as proper, your corresponding with an adult ... Yes, I know that I sound like a hypocrite. I mean with your brother and me, but remember we are both women and have the most to lose in a relationship, however platonic it starts out.”

"But Joanie, I just want to write him. A male pen-pal would give me another perspective. And it’s safe; it’s not like we’re dating. I just want to understand what boys think, and he is cute for an older boy.”

Damn, she was using logic on me.

"I was afraid this might happen. Mel, you don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t trust you. Badger Boy is an honorable young man, so I’m not worried, but remember you can get pregnant now; so can I. Society tries to protect girls and to a lesser extent boys from becoming parents when they are not ready.

"I have a hard time with my relationship to Eric, and I’m much older, mentally. I know not to have relations with him, until he is an adult -- when we will both be adults -- but it’s so hard not to give in to my feelings. You don’t have the experience to have that extra control. You might be fine with it or you might be a mother at thirteen. I trust you, Mel, but do you trust yourself when the stakes are so high? It only takes one slip up, one sperm to make you a mom. I came dangerously close to that a while back, and you know it.”

"I understand, Joanie, but it isn’t fair; I don’t know why, but it isn’t.”

I hugged her for a while, as Eric and Badger Boy spoke with Donna. "Mel, life is seldom fair; I mean I meet a wonderful girl who will blossom into an outstanding woman, and I’m a woman. I have to settle for your scruffy older brother -- boy cooties, yuck!” She giggled a little which made me feel better. The innocent little girl was back, for now.

* * * *

To be continued soon.

John in Wauwatosa