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Quite a lot of loose ends get taken care of in this chapter, and some new twists come up. It's been our custom to avoid explicit depictions of sex unless they're necessary to the plot line. Well, in this case an extended series of sex scenes, including one straight sex scene, was required by the evolving story line. Those who might be offended by it are welcome to skip the paragraphs in which it occurs.
Timothy Ailuropoli sat on his bed, trying and failing to keep his attention on Harry Potter and the Left-Handed Monkey Wrench of Doom, or whatever it was called. This whole thing was just plain unfair. Not only was he suspended from school for a week, 'for fighting', but he was grounded for the whole week too. And all he'd done was raise his arms to fend off the punches when the three guys had jumped him. He still didn't know why they had – supposedly, for some slight he'd given to the girlfriend of one of them, but he'd never seen the girl before the fight, at least that he could remember.
He looked out the window. The last few nice days, before it got too cold, and he was stuck inside. His father had been firm: "Nobody from this family has ever gotten a school suspension before you. I am very disappointed in you. You may watch TV one hour a night; otherwise you study or read."
He sighed, and turned back to his book.
Gertrude Weatherby turned back to her class. The two empty seats annoyed her more than they should. Timothy was a good student, interested and active. And the other boy, Joe – he had been coming around, she'd swear it, before he got in with that self-styled tough guy. And he was too much of a follower, too easily swayed by somebody with swagger or bravado.
It wasn't just, she thought. The three boys had picked a fight with Timothy, and she'd stopped it, as was her duty, and sent them all to the principal. What she had not expected was the application of the 'zero tolerance' policy, not only to the boys who'd picked the fight, but to the boy they'd attacked. But it would do no good to object to the principal – a more stubborn man she had never met in all her sixty years. And the superintendent and school board would never listen to a mere teacher, even one with over 30 years experience, over a Professional Administrator – when the principal described himself as that, you could hear the capital letters.
At least they weren't killed, like those poor kids up in Montana last weekend, she mused. If only there were something she could do...!
From Chapter 32:
What he saw made him wonder if there was anything to the Bigfoot legends. It stood about five feet tall, much more slender than Logan the wolverine, shaped much like one of the ferrets though larger and heavier. It had a long torso, legs and arms not out of place on a human though slightly on the short side for its size, covered all over in reddish-brown fur, slightly lighter on the chest and belly than elsewhere. A white blaze covered the top of its breastbone. Its head looked fairly human, narrow with a slight muzzle.
The most interesting thing about it to Tommy, however, was that it had his service weapon and was standing, aiming it at him, in a close approximation of a marksman's stance. "If I wanted to shoot you," it said, "you'd be dead now."
"Put down the shotgun," the creature commanded. Tommy of course did no such thing. "Put it down," it repeated patiently, "and I will lay down this handgun. But be aware I'm agile enough to take up my weapon before you can bring that shotgun to bear on me."
Feeling stalemated, Tommy said, "I'm the arm of the law here; you aren't exactly in a position to give orders."
"True," the creature conceded. "But I can't trust you, and you can't trust me. So the best we can get is a Mexican standoff. Lay the shotgun down and we'll talk."
Tommy reached for his mobile radio's mike, at his belt. "Not so fast," the creature said. "You can call for backup – once we have had a chance to talk. Until then, don't think about it."
Clearly this was not your average nightmare, Tommy thought; whatever this thing is, it's sharp and knows procedure. Slowly he set his shotgun down on the ground in front of himself. "Now you," he said, keeping his knees bent and one hand on the long gun.
The creature bent lithely and placed the handgun on the ground at its own feet, which Tommy noticed were digitigrade, like a dog or fox, or maybe a weasel.
"Okay," Tommy said, "I got dispatched up here because of reports that Bigfoot was stealing chickens from old man Freeman. He saw you heading up the trail to the old Kirby place." Tommy gestured back towards the house. "You know anything about that?"
He wasn't prepared for the response. The creature broke into deep, heartfelt laughter. "Well, Elvis was coming for dinner," it wheezed out. "I had to put on a good spread!"
Tommy laughed at that. "What do I call you, anyway?" he asked. "I'll be damned if I put 'Bigfoot' in my police report."
"Well, the damn doctors referred to me by my non-human species, the one they took my genes from to mix with human: Marten. That's as close as I've ever come to having a name, or needing one. It'll do." The creature's tone was somewhere between desolate and philosophical ... resigned to its fate, might be the right way to describe it.
"Okay, Martin," Tommy said. "You made it clear when you took my service weapon that you could have evaded capture. I'm not the brightest light bulb in the ceiling, but even I can see that much. So you wanted this encounter. Why?"
"Look at me!" Martin replied with heat. "Who can I trust? And here I am, in the middle of backwoods Maine, reduced to stealing chickens to survive."
"So you're admitting you stole the chickens?" Tommy asked, his police instincts coming through even in this bizarre situation.
"Oh, hell, what difference does it make? I'd be glad to pay for them if I could. If you know someone who needs electronics work done by a freak, I'll do it, and pay your chicken farmer for what I took."
Despite himself, Tommy was beginning to warm to this Martin. But he did have a job to do. "So what do you want of me?" he asked.
"I don't know!" Martin's voice was anguished. "Anywhere I go I'll be considered a freak. Those damn Genesis doctors made me something that won't fit in anywhere. And what they did with their damn gene re-sequencing hurt like hell! When the firebug kid set the whole place on fire, I bugged out. I thought I could make a life for myself. But I can't! And I had to steal that old man's chickens to stay alive, but that was wrong, and somehow, sometime I'll pay him for them. You're the guy who knows the law. Where can a freak like me go to stay alive?"
Tommy's head was reeling. He knew his job was to take in this dangerous monster that stole fowl from farmers like some kind of vermin would, but at the same time, Martin's impassioned plea was hitting him hard. And with it, there was sympathy for someone, or something, who had been abused as he had been. He started rapidly skimming through his memories to try to come up with the right answer, the right course of action.
What came to him was the image of Amur Khan and Vishnu standing at Adam Casey's side as he made his report to Cory, televised a week ago from Charleston. That reminded him of Sheriff Carlson's briefings to him and his fellow deputies about the Safe Haven Act, Clan Short, and the U.N.I.T. That was his answer: Clan Short! "I know what to do for you," he said to Martin.
In point of fact, his plan was to get Martin into the rear seat of his patrol vehicle, which was modified for transporting prisoners: doors that would not open from the inside, a sturdy wire grille separating rear seat from driver's area, and so on. Once he'd gotten Martin safely locked up at the jail, he'd call in Jonas. But being a good cop, he didn't explain this part of it to his prisoner-to-be.
"Come with me," Tommy said to Martin. "I can take you to people who have the answers you need." Then, as he began to bend to pick up his shotgun, he hastily added, "We need to get our weapons."
Martin looked skeptical. "Explain," he said curtly.
"This Vulcan group that we've got a branch of in town, has some cat type people as members, from what I saw at their press conference," Tommy replied. "I'm thinking that they likely have the answers you're looking for, or can get them."
Martin seemed genuinely relieved, though still tinged with skepticism. "I'll do what you say. This better be good." He quickly bent and picked up Tommy's service revolver, holding it in the not-quite-directly-aimed-at-someone position that Tommy recognized. He squatted down, picked up his shotgun, and rose again, blinking as a slight touch of dizziness from the squat and rising and the stress of this contact heterodyned to give him a quick momentary dip in blood pressure.
With Martin, who stood only about shoulder high to Tommy, following him, they made their way back down the trail and around the abandoned Kirby homestead to Tommy's patrol car. "Anything you need to get from inside?" Tommy asked.
"No, it's all stuff I improvised here out of abandoned odds and ends," Martin answered. "We can take off anytime."
"Hop in, then," Tommy answered, gesturing at the police car's rear door. With a smile Martin did so, after a quick glance around that betrayed his lingering nervousness.
His tentative relaxation, however, was replaced by panic as he realized the car doors would not open from the inside. Tommy hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine. "Listen," he said, "I'm going to take you in to the Sheriff's office. The people I think can help you, Clan Short, can pick you up there. It's my job to protect the folks around here, and I judge it wisest if we detain you until they can take custody."
Martin had very tight control on his temper. "There's something you're forgetting," he growled.
"What's that?"
"You left me armed."
"Bryan?" Austin said. "I have a task for you."
The curly-haired freckled 13-year-old redhead looked up at his 17-year-old strike team commander. "What's up, Austin?"
"They're going to start interviews today where we're going to be stationed." Bryan nodded. "I want you to take two of the new guys, and make sure they're covered. Becky and I need to pack up our stuff, let Dani say good-bye to her friends, and we'll be along later. Malinda needs some time to disengage from her boy toy, and Ethan won't be back up to snuff until tomorrow."
"What about Claire?"
"She's staying here; she says she'd have no problem coming with us, but Uncle Amur is getting very protective of his brother's widow, and I agreed to leave her at Camp Bam Bam before he felt forced to come up with a rationale for ordering it. We'll still have a full team – the four guys we added in the TARDIS, and an Alexis Gomez who is a whiz at team intelligence. She goes by Lexi, and I know you'll like her attitude."
"OK. What's the sitch?"
"From what Daileass got, the base isn't ready by a long shot, and the Waynes are fit to be tied. Kurt and his boys are going to start interviewing for staff today; Starfleet will be plunking in what they identified as shortages, to the extent possible. They're still not on top of the resources they can draw on. You need to make sure they have security, but the secondary mission is to make sure they're thinking 'how' rather than 'can't do'. Got it?"
"Got it!" Bryan was smiling. Independent command, at least for a time! He felt ready for it.
Intent on the TV, Sylvia caught it out of the corner of her eye. She believed rather less than 20% of what she heard and saw on this Hollywood Exposed show, but she was the first to admit that she loved a good juicy piece of gossip as much as the next person. After a pause for what she'd caught in her peripheral vision to register, she called out, "Rina! Boys! They're back!" and was off the couch faster than would seem possible for someone of her age, wrapping the three boys back from Camp Bam Bam in a grandmotherly hug.
Jed winced as he said, "Easy on the ribs!"
Mickey started to fall; Jared caught him. "Just help me to a chair, and I'll be fine," he told his brother. Rina came running in, embraced him, and helped him to an easy chair, which she shared with him protectively. The other two followed her, C.J. quiet and sullen, Raffy's face alive with joy at his brothers' return and with hope.
Then it was time to tell the story: the training in the Tardis, the firefight at the last Genesis base, Mickey and Jed getting wounded, Jared's trial by fire defending them, their rescue by Skipper, Malinda, and the others, recovery in Camp Bam Bam's med bay, the news of what had happened to Joel, not to mention what had happened with Ralphie. The women were shocked, the eight-year-olds were eating it up. The attack that took out Strike Team Kilo had Rina clinging to Mickey and Sylvia wringing her hands; Jared describing how he felt when Jed and Mickey were shot was an emotional roller coaster for them.
Sylvia stepped over as Jared concluded the story and turned his face up to hers. "You've been changed, haven't you?" she said, with compassion mixing with what was really a search for understanding, of trying to grasp what it had meant to her newly-adopted grandson, who was finding the path to adulthood even more rocky than did most kids.
"When Jed got me out of the hospital, he said something about how things had changed, and he'd give anything if he could just go back to how it was before," Jared said. "I think I know now what he meant."
"Of course, the next morning brain boy here," Mickey interjected, gesturing at Jared, "got arrested and lost his right to a phaser, by trying to shoot Ralphie."
"What?!" Rina asked. "That punk kid you ran into at the Mall? What was he doing there?"
This of course led to a rather long explanation of how the boy they had stopped bullying Lee on the previous Wednesday had been, improbably, the one to save Joel from his attackers that morning.
"Speaking of Lee and Lonnie," Rina said, "wait until you hear what these two" – her gesture indicated Raffy and C.J. – "were up to while you were off on your little adventure." And with that she launched into recounting the events at the high school.
Mickey looked at Raffy, realizing that this was the make-or-break point on his being father figure to his little brothers. "Well," he said, not unkindly, "what have you got to say for yourself?"
C.J. and Raffy cringed. C.J. was expecting more discipline, losing privileges and the like. Raffy, though – he closed his eyes, thinking back to Sean recounting some of the stories at Clan meetings. He felt an unexpected sense of strength and calmness come over him, and knew what he had to do. He looked Mickey in the eyes. "Mick," he said, "why did you guys have to go help the U.N.I.T.?"
"Don't go changing the subject..." Rina started to say, but Mickey's gesture indicated that he was willing to see where Raffy was going with this.
"They asked for our help, and they are our sworn brothers in the Clan. We had to go and help them."
"I knew that," Raffy said, "but I had ta have ya say it." He put his hands on his hips, looked Mickey in the eyes again, and continued. "Just before ya called to let Sylvia know what you were gonna do, Lonnie called us on the Clan terminal. He'd heard that some of Ralphie's friends were gonna try an ambush, and asked for our help." Raffy's arm wave included everybody in the room. "So C.J. agreed that all five of us would show up, with you guys just having finished security training, and stop the bullies."
"Well, we hung up from that, and went out just in time for Sylvia to tell us you guys were going to Utah. Well, the Clan came into existence because grownups who were supposed to be protecting kids weren't doing it. It's kids helping kids. And we'd promised, as the Clan, to help. So we had to go keep that promise."
"Yeah, we made some big mistakes," Raffy finished. "But it did work out. And we did the important thing – we kept our word. Just like you. You're my big brother – what I see you do, I know's the right thing to do."
Rina's jaw had dropped. Mickey was looking at his little eight-year-old brother with a new appreciation, and something like respect. "He's got a point, Rina," he said. They conferred in whispers for a few moments, then Mickey turned back to the two little boys. "You got grounded for your screw-ups, not taking your comm badge or any security. Let that be a lesson to you. Next time you go off to save the world, think it through first, and bring along help." He grabbed his little brother and hugged him tightly.
Jared spoke up. "During the battle I thought Jed and Mickey had got killed. It could just as easy have been you guys, going up against bigger guys in a gang. When you're headed into a fight, think ahead – I learned that the hard way."
"If we're about through with all this," Rina added, "I think it's about time we all did what Jed and C.J.'s grandfather asked, and transported up to visit him. You can finish your stories up there if you want to."
Realizing that this was Rina's way of giving in gracefully and saving face, Mickey gestured for everyone to go along with it, and shortly they were ready to call Starfleet and beam out.
The picnic lunch lived up to expectations, Malinda thought as she inspected it. She barked off a laugh as she looked at the rotisserie chicken breasts wrapped in foil, or, more exactly, the plastic condiment bottle that went with them, which was captioned CMK Brand **Guaranteed Virgin** Barbecue Sauce. Peanut butter, banana, and peach jam sandwiches for the two boys, prosciutto and turkey sandwiches for herself and Tony, foil-wrapped oblongs that proved to be hot dogs in toasted rolls with mayo, per her request. "It looks like a wiener that's covered in lube!" Little Pete giggled.
"Yeah, it does!" Dan got out as he joined in the giggles. The high spirits were infectious, and the two older teens joined in laughing. Potato salad, pickles, several varieties of chips, and an assortment of sodas rounded out the picnic. Malinda easily hefted the large basket.
"Here, let me get that," Tony told her.
"Go ahead," she said, and set it back down. Tony hefted it with some effort.
"Tony, you know the bastards re-engineered me to give me enhanced strength," Malinda said gently. "From everything I've read about normals, the boy is usually stronger than the girl, and carries stuff for her to show he likes her and wants her. Well, with us I'm the stronger one, but remember: you give me what I need." Her smoldering glance at his crotch as she said this made Tony blush and Little Pete giggle. Dan's expression was closed, though.
"It just doesn't feel right!" Tony said with an effort at a smile.
"Don't sweat it," she said. "I never hoped to meet a squishy as hot as you. Think of it as kind of role reversal – I carry the heavy stuff for you, and you put out for me, instead of the other way around." She grinned.
Tony laughed, a bit more heart feltly this time. "If you put it that way, I guess I can put up with it!" He picked up a blanket as she resumed carrying the bulky picnic basket.
"Got your commbadges?" she asked. All three boys gestured at the ones they were wearing. "Daileass, do your thing!"
"Okay, sis!" the positronic brain that had been a boy replied, and transported them to the canyon floor outside the underground Camp.
By gradual stages they hiked up the canyon to a side canyon sheltered from the wind, pacing the walk to Dan's recuperation. Pete ran ahead, fascinated by the drylands country they were in.
As they found a nice spot, sheltered from the north and warm in the autumn sunshine, Tony spread out the blanket, they all flopped down onto it, and Malinda and Dan set out the food. They dug in, with Tony reminding Dan to pace himself and not eat too much too fast. Without any prior arrangement they limited conversation to how good the meal was and what the others ought to try.
After eating their lunch, they relaxed. In the warm sun, Tony stripped off his shirt and lay back. Malinda and Dan both looked on with barely disguised hunger. She lay on her side next to him.
Pete meanwhile had rested enough. "C'mon, Dan, let's go 'splorin'!" Looking a little torn, Dan agreed, and the two younger boys vanished over the rise that was sheltering them.
Malinda reached over and ran her hand over Tony's pecs, then brought it down to his waist and unbuckled and unzipped his pants. By the time she had pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles, he was fully ready. She stripped rapidly, squatted over him and fed him into herself, and began riding him. Getting into the flow of things, he began thrusting up to meet her. Quite soon she found her climax coming, threw her head back and moaned rhythmically. As she came down from her orgasm, she was pleasantly surprised to find him still erect; he tentatively thrust his hips upward and grinned. With a matching grin she dug in again and rode him to another set of back-to-back orgasms – her second, his first. Both had heads thrown back and were grunting in time with their heavy breathing.
On the hillside behind and above them, Pete called to Dan, "Did you hear that?" as the love-makers' sound effects became loud. They scouted around for the sound, realized it was Tony and Malinda, and hunkered down on a rock outcrop to watch. Pete was boned up and giggling. "Wow, they're really doing it!" Dan too was transfixed by what he was seeing, achingly hard, and unconsciously rubbing himself though his pants. His expression, however, was haunted, lonely, and ineffably sad.
As Malinda came down from her orgasmic high, draped half across Tony's body, she glanced down to see his dick still at half staff. With an inward sense of thankfulness for his high libido and quick recovery time, she slid down his body and began to stimulate him, gently massaging the shaft and kissing the glans and frenum. Predictably his body responded. With an impish leer she smiled up at him.
Tony again had a sense of 'too good to be true' come over him. This girl, with a figure from his best fantasies, wanted sex as badly as he did. He imagined bringing her home to meet his parents, when this was all over. He wouldn't make the same mistake he had with Lisa and Pen, that's for sure! He reached down, pulled her up to him, kissed her, and rolled them over so he was on top. Malinda raised and spread her legs, guided him into herself, and wrapped her legs around the small of his back. They began the age-old motions.
On the hill, Pete and Dan were watching them intently, Pete giggling uncontrollably. Dan had increased his hand motions against the crotch of his pants. As the couple down below approached the point of no return, so did he. But his facial expression was that of yearning, and tears were streaming down his cheeks.
As the three of them – Malinda, Tony, and Dan – came, their commbadges began beeping. Malinda finished coming, made a long arm, and fetched her tee-shirt with attached commbadge. "What, Daileass?" she asked exasperatedly.
"Austin's been looking for you, sis," Daileass said. "He's got orders for your team."
"Oh, shit," she said. "Well, put him through."
"Hey, I at least gave you a chance to finish before I 'found' you!" Daileass said ingratiatingly.
"Yeah, you did. Thanks, little bro," she replied.
"M'linda?" came Austin's voice from the commbadge.
"Yeah, boss."
"We got orders. PCS ASAP; we're to provide security for the new base they're remodeling back East. How long will it take you to say goodbye to your new boy-toy – Tony, was it? – and be ready to ship out?"
"Um, Austin, Tony's right here – as in about six inches deep in me right this minute."
The sound of embarrassment came across the commbadge.
"Well, let me talk to him, then we can pick up from this picnic and come back to base," she went on. She stood up, still nude, and called out, "Boys! We need to be heading back very soon!" She then handed Tony his clothes and began to put on her own.
Dan and Pete came climbing down the hillside, spending more time looking at the two teens getting dressed than where their feet were going, and slipping as they climbed as a result.
"What's going on?" asked a shocked Tony. "What was that all about?"
"Finish getting your stuff on, sit down, and I'll explain," she replied, as the boys came into sight. "C'mon over here," she called.
With the other three sitting and listening, Malinda began, "To make this as short as possible, the Strike Team I'm part of has been reassigned to provide security to the new facility up in New York State. I need to get back to base and get ready for my new assignment."
"But what about us?" Tony said.
"It was a lot of fun," Malinda said, "and I'm really glad to have met you and slept with you. I'll always remember the past few days."
"But... but... I wanted to take you back to Maine, make a life with you!" Tony got out, in a voice that he was trying to keep less than a wail.
"Are you kidding?" Malinda said. "Look at me!" This caused the two younger boys to laugh, and she caught herself. "Yeah, it doesn't show on the surface, But you know what they did with me. General Adams impersonated a kind old military retiree looking to adopt a little girl to get me. They put me through Hell, resequenced my genes, did surgery, fed me supplements, to make me into a girl super-soldier. I'm six times as strong as a normal girl my age, five times as fast and agile, heal four times as fast. And because they were the spawn of the Devil, they thought it would be fun to give me a libido eleven times the normal."
"I lost my virginity the month before my ninth birthday," she continued. "For the next five years I was the fuck toy for the troops. When they told me we were getting someone who loved casual sex and had an above-average sex drive on a community service assignment, I jumped for joy. You were just barely able to keep me satisfied, Tony, and that's no putdown ... you're the only unenhanced guy I know, and tied with only three G-kids, who can keep up with me. Usually it takes three guys to keep me satisfied. And when we escaped the Genesis base, I made up my mind that no man was ever going to tell me what I could do or not do with my body."
"I can just see me in your high school," she scoffed. "Put me on the football team – I'd break through the opposing line, and outdistance them for touchdowns, every time I got the ball. And then I'd be so worked up, I'd want to fuck the entire rest of the team." She looked haunted. "There's no way I'd ever fit in."
Dan, Tony, and Pete sat there transfixed, not saying a word. The first few references to sex, Pete had been giggling, but he'd turned serious as she went on.
"This is my family, here at Camp Bam Bam," she finished. "They're the people who have been through what I have; they're the ones who accept me. A lot of people regard Daileass as a computer who used to be a kid – to me, he's the little brother I never had, the one who spies on you and teases you and loves you no matter what."
"And what we're doing is important, something that actually matters to me. We're cleaning out the sons of bitches who think it's fun to use kids for their own purposes, whether it be a madman like General Adams or a bog-standard pedophile like Jerome." Pete and Dan looked up, startled, at this. "It all ties together, Pete. The first time I saw you, you were sitting and listening to Jerome prove what a total bastard he was. Your Max was my boss Austin's foster dad. It was my teammates Bryan and Becky who rescued you, Dan. It's something that matters, a way I can fight back, and help my family – my only family, the guys and girls who've been through it. You've seen the G-cats, Chang's wolf pack. Logan and his badgers... you haven't seen the guys that are scars head to foot from their experiments, or Logan's brothers that they thought it'd be a cool idea to image their brains and then flush them out and replace them with android brains in boys' bodies ... or sometimes not even with bodies, like my little brother."
Daileass's voice over the commbadges shocked them: it was a flat unmodulated computer-generated voice. But what he said was full of emotion: "I love you, sis! If I had eyes, they'd be crying now."
"He's hurting; he only loses his 'human' voice when it gets really bad," she explained. "Someday, little bro! How d'ya throw a forward pass?"
"Fingers on the lacing," he answered, sounding a bit more like his normal voice.
"I promised him I'd teach him to throw a football someday. You want to know what heads up his Christmas wish list? A body, that's what!" Malinda was a little vehement. "They fucked us over in ways you can't begin to imagine, and now we can get revenge!"
With that she finally wound down. And none of the other three could say anything to respond. At Malinda's command Daileass beamed them back to Camp Bam Bam.
Malinda split off as soon as they were inside, going to the explosives storage area. Tony took Pete back to Max's pod, then took Dan down to the Med Bay.
Dr. Gordan had a surprise for them: Dan was deemed sufficiently recovered to move into outpatient status. They'd arranged a room for him in a pod near the Med Bay. Dan had very little to move; Tony helped him with it, and one of the little Quartermaster kids showed up with a supply of clothes and toiletries for him.
After getting Dan settled, Tony hurried to the room he had been sharing with Malinda, to find all her personal touches gone. The fluffy pink bedspread was replaced by a maroon coverlet, the jaunty little stuffed raccoon was nowhere to be seen, the posters were down. Tony looked around, desolate, then threw himself on the bed and wept.
Dan was bored. More, he was worried. His old friends from Jerome's were making a new life with Max, one he knew he wouldn't fit into. That left � Tony. And Tony had dropped him off here in his new room, to run off and probably pack to go away with his girlfriend. If it's possible to bite off a word viciously in thought, that's what Dan did.
His commbadge chirped, and a voice he didn't recognize made an announcement that dinner service was starting in the big mess hall. Dan wasn't hungry; he was � he decided he didn't know what he was, but whatever it was, it was something that made sitting around in this room one more minute totally intolerable.
He keyed his commbadge to what should connect to Tony. No answer. It figured. He thought. "Daileass, where are Tony and Malinda?"
"Malinda is down on level six, pulling together the ordnance she thinks she'll need at her new assignment. Um, you don't have access to down there, Dan." Daileass sounded almost apologetic.
"She's not in their room?"
"Nope. She had me port all her personal things down to her so she could focus on what she'll need for this mission."
"Tony's with her?"
"No." Daileass's answer was quiet.
"Where's he, then?"
"He's in his room, the one he and Malinda used to share."
"What's he doing there?"
"Um, Dan, he seems to be lying on his bed sobbing." Daileass was violating privacy here, and it showed in his tone of voice.
"Sobbing?!" This startled Dan; he thought fast. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I don't know, Dan. What I do know is that if anybody can, it's you. With Malinda leaving, you're the only person here he cares about."
"I thought he'd be leaving with Malinda. Besides, she's his girlfriend; I'm just the sick kid he helped."
'You're wrong, Dan. When he was with Malinda, he was always talking about you. I think he thinks of you about like Malinda thinks about me ... the little brother they never had in real life.'
"Really?!"
"Yeah."
"Well, then, can you show me how to get there?"
"I can do better than that. Stand up."
When Dan stood, Daileass transported him into Tony's room. He stepped over to the bed, and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Tony?"
Tony was woozy – cried out and still half asleep. "Dan? What are you doing here?"
As he tried to figure out how to answer that, a sense of certainty and confidence came over Dan. Now he needed to be the strong one, because... "You needed me," he said simply.
He grabbed a handful of Kleenex and handed them to Tony, gesturing for him to blow his nose.
Dan took charge. He cajoled Tony to sit up, manhandled him into the bathroom, flipped down the toilet-seat lid, sat him down on it, soaked a washcloth in hot water, and washed Tony's face with it. For his part, Tony was emotionally drained and exhausted by the picnic and the crying jag, and such attention as he could bring to bear was bemused by this new, more assertive Dan. He cooperated with Dan without demur.
When Tony had collapsed in tears on the bed, he had still been wearing the sweatshirt and heavy jeans he'd worn on the hike to and from the picnic site. Now Dan felt of them. What wasn't soaked in tears was soaked through with sweat. He turned on the shower.
"Lift your arms," Dan instructed, and when Tony did, he pulled off the older boy's sweatshirt, and then the tee-shirt underneath. The sight of Tony's chest triggered Dan's libido. His heart began to beat faster, he involuntarily drew in a breath, and he felt a swelling in his groin.
Dan removed Tony's shoes and socks, stood him up, and unfastened and unzipped his pants. The treasure trail leading down into his briefs and how they bulged started him sweating. He kicked off his own loafers and stripped off his tee-shirt and shorts, leaving his own underpants on.
Dan stood Tony up and, making an effort not to look, slid down his underpants and guided Tony into the shower, which was roomy enough for two, as Malinda had specified when her room was first built. Stepping into the shower, he soaped up the washcloth and began to wash Tony's back.
Next he washed Tony's butt. Noticing it was firm, rounded, and dimpled which did absolutely nothing to calm Dan; in fact, he was feeling quite turned on.
He slid around Tony and began washing his chest. The hot water hitting Tony's lower regions had caused a certain amount of engorging already. As Dan began gently washing Tony's nipples, he drew in a breath involuntarily, and the swelling increased.
As Dan's soapy hands moved down Tony's body, his dick continued to engorge, and by the time Dan was working on his loins, Tony was fully erect (as was Dan, inside his sopping-wet underwear). Dan looked, and was lost: six and a half inches, thicker at the base but fairly thick for its entire length, with an 'arrowhead' glans. Throwing discretion to the winds, he dropped to his knees and took it into his mouth.
It's hard to explain Tony's mental state in rational terms. Too many changes, too fast, over the past three days, culminating in the emotional catastrophe of Malinda breaking it off and leaving, fatigue from the work he'd been doing and his crying jag: suffice it to say he was not thinking at all clearly. He knew, somewhere deep down inside, that what was happening was for some reason wrong, but why this was so was a concept he wasn't up to grappling with. And a big part of his motivations the last few years had been sexual gratification. And this blowjob sure felt good! And, of course, Dan did know what he was doing in giving it; Jerome had made sure of that!
Tony moaned, gently thrust his hips forward, and began to caress and press on Dan's head.
Dan was elated! Not only did Tony not reject him, but he was showing signs he wanted it, that what Dan had to give was the sure medicine for what she had done to the boy he looked up to and lusted after. Now he was in his element; from his days with Jerome he knew just what to do next.
First Dan enjoyed for a few more minutes the oral pleasure of at long last having Tony's cock to suck, devoting the time to bringing him to full hardness ... not a difficult task. Then he stood up, turned off the shower, and grabbed a large fluffy white towel. With it he dried Tony thoroughly, from hair to ankles, and if he spent a little extra time making sure that Tony's cock, balls, and butt were adequately dried, who could blame him?
Then he led Tony back out to the bed, laid him down on his stomach, and expertly gave him a shoulder, back, and butt massage, in that order. Next he rolled Tony over onto his back, and experienced a moment's panic. When he said, "Where's the damn lube?" under his breath, however, it triggered Daileass's attention, and he said, "Hold out your hand." Dan did, and was rewarded with a large tube of KY appearing in it.
Squeezing out generous portions of jelly, he liberally anointed his own butt hole and then Tony's cock, taking a few strokes to be sure he was fully hard. Then he knelt with one knee on either side of Tony's waist, reached behind him and grasped Tony's cock firmly, and slowly lowered himself onto it, gasping as the head entered him – Tony was, after all, a bit thicker than Jerome had been, and though he was used to this, he felt momentary pain on the entry, which soon went away. When the greater part of Tony's shaft was inside him, he began to slowly ride the older boy.
Although Dan was fully erect, he did not play with himself as he rode up and down on Tony – this was, after all, for Tony, not for him. The sense of it bouncing rhythmically as he moved up and down was itself erotic, deliciously perverse, to Dan. He did. however, shift position so that Tony's cock rubbed up against his prostate on every stroke – no harm in getting a little pleasure out of it!
Tony began moaning in time with Dan's grunts, and shortly thereafter began thrusting his own hips upward to meet Dan's as they descended. They began picking up the pace, and shortly Tony grabbed Dan's waist, forced him down as he thrust up, and came inside him. Dan could feel the dick swelling and the rhythmic pulses moving along the shaft. Contrary to what the stories said, however, he'd never been able to feel the actual ejaculations ... which was understandable, as both the semen and its receptacle were body temperature.
Dan was pleased to find that Tony's cock, confined as it was within his tight butt hole, remained more or less hard. He tightened his sphincter and hip muscles, and began to slo-o-o-wly ride him again. After a few minutes Tony came back to full hardness. Dan knew this one would last longer, and he made the most of it, shifting around and testing various positions to see what brought them both the most pleasure, leaning back and stroking his own dick – somewhat smaller than Tony's but at five inches not too little either.
There's a slang expression, "thinking with the little head," meaning more or less to make bad or shortsighted decisions for the sake of sexual gratification. In Tony's case, however, that was much more nearly literally true. The emotional impacts of the last few days, especially falling for and then losing Malinda, had combined to cause an emotional parallel to being shell-shocked. He was, so to speak, "running on autopilot"; his normal alertness to his surroundings (though sometimes tempered by single-minded seeking after a goal) was on stand-down. For example, he was dimly aware that it was Dan, not Malinda, whom he was having sex with, but the ramifications of that, how it impacted his life, had not registered. What he was aware of was that there was something tight, moist, and warm clasping his cock and moving it rhythmically, and he was reacting to that in a way he'd conditioned himself to react: dig in and enjoy, thrusting to meet the rhythm his partner was setting.
As Tony again began his hip thrusts, Dan again took charge, picking up the speed and intentionally trying to bring Tony off. As he felt Tony's cock swell again, that pushed Dan over the edge, and he shot a stream of cum that landed alongside Tony's treasure trail, dampening the edge of it. followed by two smaller spurts that landed on and started soaking into Tony's pubes.
Dan collapsed at Tony's side.
Itches and twitches roused Dan. Tony was lying alongside him, eyes closed and breathing softly, seemingly either asleep or zoned out. He investigated himself. The itches were some sweat built up around his groin, and some lube/semen mix that was drying on his thigh after leaking out. His anal sphincter was swollen, puffy, and tender though not painful to the touch. He felt around, then slid a finger inside, and was pleased to know all was well. In fact, inserting the finger was a bit of a turn-on for him. He felt fulfilled ... he'd given Tony, whom he loved and had the hots for, what Jerome had taught him to do, and both Tony and he himself had certainly enjoyed it.
Speaking of Tony... he turned his head to look at him, and was thrilled again by the muscular, masculine body alongside him. Despite Tony's kindness while he was in the Med Bay, in his heart Dan 'knew' that all he himself was good for was pleasing somebody like this, being there when he needed to get his rocks off, being the second-choice substitute for somebody like Malinda. He wasn't happy about it, but he was resigned to it. Jerome had certainly made it clear to him!
Then his gaze drifted down. Tony's cock was draped across his hip where it joined his torso, and while it wasn't hard, it had engorged some as he lay there. To Dan it was a beautiful sight, one that triggered his lust. He scooted down the bed and began sucking. Slowly it inflated and stiffened once again. Dan was pleased and felt fulfilled; this was what he was there for.
Tony was only partly awake after the workout earlier. He felt the delicious sensations of a good blowjob, and reached down, caressing the hair of the head giving him head.
Dan knew what to do now. All thoughts of his tender bottom consumed by his desire, he lifted his face from Tony's cock. "Fuck me!" he said. He intended it to come out sultry, but his voice broke at the worst possible time, and to his horror he heard it come out in a girlish high-pitched voice.
Still only half awake but definitely horny now, Tony boosted himself up into a position halfway between leaning on his side and on hands and knees. Dan grinned with pleasure, grabbed a pillow and rolled onto his back, tucking the pillow under his buttocks, raising and spreading his legs, and lubing himself up.
Tony pressed forward and entered Dan in one steady motion. Dan was ready, after the sex earlier. As Tony began rhythmic hip motions, still mostly on autopilot and acting by learned reflex, Dan wrapped his legs around the small of Tony's back, and began bucking up to meet him. When Tony called out, "Oh Malinda," it was a twist of the knife to Dan, but he took it – he knew he was only second best to Tony – or at least that's how he saw himself.
It took them a while to reach orgasm, thanks to their earlier sex, and it was one of those times where it just keeps building and building and takes a long time to reach the top. Dan had raised his hips high so that Tony would rub against his prostate with each stroke, and he was nearing climax himself when Tony came. Now totally exhausted, Tony rolled over and was asleep within seconds. It took Dan only a couple of strokes by hand to come; while there was only one small squirt of semen, the orgasm itself, having built up for so long, was profound. Lying there in the afterglow, Dan felt good about himself for the first time in a long time: he'd given his friend Tony what he needed and wanted, and gratified his own desires at the same time. He drifted off to sleep happily.
Jaycee hopped easily from the late bus into the twilight, and trotted up the driveway. Tall and well built for barely sixteen, he was happy: Junior Varsity practice had gone very well, he had almost no homework, and was looking forward to the weekend.
Disliking either the original French Canadian ("zhahn-cloud") or Anglicized ("gene-clawed") versions of his double-barreled name Jean-Claude, he'd insisted everyone call him by his initials. He just hoped there were no more questions about what had happened Monday – he'd gotten tired of telling people that after Jonas and Harry had taken the two kids they'd found in the bushes home, he and Mickey had called it a night and left for their own homes.
He was surprised not to find his mother in the kitchen cooking as he came in through the back door. "Mom, I'm home!" he called out.
What he heard back, though, was his father's voice from the parlor. "Jean-Claude, come in here, please." The tone sounded like it was something serious, but he didn't sound angry. He dropped his books on the counter, poured himself a glass of apple juice, and headed in for the parlor.
His parents had company – official company from the looks. He steeled himself to tell the story again. But what he saw when he walked in gave him pause: someone clad neck to toes in solid black. Taller than Jaycee and easily as physically fit as he. And he was a Vulcan!
Tommy tensed, ready to jump from the car. Martin's voice came to him: "I wouldn't try it, not unless you think you can move faster than a bullet." He drew a breath. "Now tell me, and be honest if it's in you, what you thought you were going to accomplish by tricking me into here?"
"What difference would it make?"
"We're at another Mexican standoff," Martin said. "I'm stuck in here until I get let out. You're stuck in that seat unless you feel lucky and decide to beat the bullet. Any information has got to be an improvement. And I just want to know."
Tommy drew a breath. "I'm a cop. I was dispatched here to find out what was stealing chickens. When I found out there was a person responsible, well, my job is to arrest them and take them in. I think you were justified, considering what you were up against, but it's not my job to judge you; that's what the courts are for. So I did what I was supposed to, and got you into a position where I could take you in. If I know the judge and the sheriff, they'll make sure you get the help you wanted, from Clan Short – but it's not my job to excuse away the chicken theft, no matter how I personally feel about it."
Martin was taken aback. "You see me as a person?"
"Of course. We've been talking, haven't we? You could have been a Tellarite or a Rigellian. They aren't human beings but they're still people. And from what you said. you're a helluva lot more human than they are."
Martin's situation assessment was changing fast. Fortunately, part of his training as a soldier had been to deal with rapid tactical changes. "You're really sure these Clan Short people will help?"
"Positive of it. I've seen them at work."
"All right then." Martin had reached a decision. "Start your car. You're going to drive me to these Clan Short people."
Tommy drew out his keys, started the car, and went through his usual checklist of bringing a police car into service. Then he stopped short. "As soon as we go into motion, the G.P.S. will let the office know. I'll need to radio in what we're doing, or they'll wonder why I'm silent, possibly send vehicles to check out why we're not in contact."
Martin thought about this. "All right. But be very careful what you say."
"Check." Tommy picked up his mike and keyed it. "Unit F5 to Base."
"Go ahead, Tommy."
"I'm 10-8 with one passenger and en route to High Street in Arkham, to connect with Jonas McConnaghay on a Clan Short issue." He paused. "Request you call ahead for them to meet us at the car." He paused again. "Better forewarn him that my passenger is 10-140-CS."
"Say again: 10-140-CS?"
"Copy that, 10-4" Tommy said. This was the 10-code for someone who is not a Terran human being; the -CS suffix flagged him as related to Clan Short in some way. Martin was nodding.
"10-4. Did you resolve the 'Bigfoot siting'?"
"Yes. I'll turn in my report after my passenger is safe with the Clan."
"10-4"
"F5 out."
"Thanks," Martin said. "You kind of stuck your neck out for me there, didn't you?"
"Yeah, a bit," Tommy said. "I just figure you deserve a break for a change. Besides, if I get too much grief, I can blame it on you holding me at gunpoint." He glanced back and smiled.
Martin flashed him a smile back. Though he definitely didn't trust Tommy, he was beginning to grasp how he thought, and appreciate it.
The radio came to life again. "Base to F5.
"F5 here," Tommy responded.
"Be advised... oh, hell. Strangest call in years. I called up Maureen's to let Jonas know what you'd asked. It rang twice, then this boy's voice came on the line and advised that they were in Hawaii for the day, and that calls concerning Clan Short should be directed to Pen Throxton. Then he giggled. I have no idea who it was or why." (In fact, it was Daileass, whose auto-processing scanning of police-band radio across the U.S. had been triggered to his conscious awareness by the mention of Clan Short, and who had gotten the relevant information across the Logan-clones link from Nathan and Todd.)
"Thank you, dispatch. Proceeding to Throxton estate, as per previous transmission." Tommy caught the eye of Martin, who smiled and nodded.
As Tommy and Martin made their way down the back roads to the secondary highway south from Freeman township into Arkham township and down to the urbanized area of Arkham proper, Daileass, now alerted to the situation by the radio calls referencing Clan Short, moved into action. He first called Pen and Doug, letting them know to expect Tommy's car and also a special U.N.I.T. detachment, then made a private call to one hex of pods in the area of Camp Bam Bam which had been chosen for their own by most of the hybrids. "Task Group A3L1," he sent. "I've got a situation that calls for your special characteristics."
"What you got?" John rumbled. Quickly Daileass outlined what he knew. "We can handle that," John replied with a toothy smile."Hey, Con, put down that Journal of Primate Medicine; we're on a mission!" His brother and Larry had grabbed the task group's equipment, making them into a mini-strike team; moments later he was able to tell Daileass "Ready to beam out."
As Tommy pulled up in front of the Throxton mansion, Doug motioned Pen protectively to stay back, and walked up to the driver's window. Pen's father hung back, observing, ready to help if needed.
Tommy rolled the window down and said, "Let him out first." Doug took one step to his right and opened the door. Martin climbed out and stood, gun in hand but not aimed at anyone, tensed up and unsure what would happen next. Tommy wiped his forehead, drew a deep breath, and exited the driver's seat.
Off to the side, a flicker resolved into the task group beaming in: two large gorillas, a chimpanzee carrying a traditional doctor's medical bag, and a leopard wearing a special forces beret jauntily between his two clearly feline ears, all of them dressed in fatigues. Seeing Martin armed, the two gorillas and the leopard moved their hands to their own weapons.
"You're not human!" Martin said. The gun slipped from his grasp and he began to tremble.
"Given some of the human beings we've encountered, that would be nice," one of the gorillas said, "but no, we're part human along with ape genes, or in Larry's case big-cat ones. As, unless I miss my guess, is true for you too, right?"
"Let me introduce us," Larry said. "We are Task Group A3L1 of Clan Short's special forces division, proudly known as The U.N.I.T. This is our C.O., First Sergeant John Little, his brother Sergeant Timothy Cratchett, Medical Captain Dr. Constantine Boulle, and yours truly, Corporal Larry LePard. We owe our names to one of Dr. Rosenthal's assistants who had a sick sense of humor, and I guarantee you that whatever joke about them you may think of, we've already heard it."
"I'm Doug Murdock, and this is my boyfriend Pen Throxton, both of Clan Short, and up there on the steps is Pen's father, also Pen."
"I'm Deputy Hezekiah Thomas of the Franklin County Sheriff's Department," Tommy volunteered, "and this," gesturing, "is Martin."
"What does A3L1 stand for?" Doug asked curiously.
"Three apes and a leopard," John replied with a grin.
"Let that wait, John," Dr. Constantine said, hurrying to Martin's side. "The man is ill, can't you see that?" He had his tricorder out by the time he got there, and quickly scanned Martin. "Marten, eh? And badly malnourished, along with the usual Genesis mistreatment." He looked up. "Let's get this fellow inside where he can get off his feet. Have you got some food for him?"
In the kitchen of the mansion, Pen asked, "You're a carnivore, right? Does that mean we need to give you raw meat?"
"No," Martin replied. "Just like primates, a big part of martens' diets consist of fruits and nuts. What I really like, and nearly never got, is red meat that's just barely cooked, but the guards said that that kind of meat is rare, so if you don't have any, I can make do with chicken or rabbit or squirrel meat."
The rest of those present were trying manfully to resist laughter. "Rare in that context means how much the meat's been cooked, Martin," Dr. Constantine explained, "not how scarce it is."
"Oh," Martin said sheepishly.
Shortly, a steak was being prepared – rare – while the others relaxed with coffee and sweet cakes. The three apes, however, joined Martin in snacking on apples and pears.
Tommy judged it was time to bring up his issue. "Um, you guys can supersede local law enforcement, right?" he said to the Clan members. Tim and Pen responded that yes, they could. "Well, technically I'm supposed to arrest Martin because he stole a couple of chickens to eat in order to survive."
Pen looked at his father. "I think perhaps Throxton Industries can probably afford to cover that, don't you?"
"No problem," said the elder Throxton. "I think perhaps $500 might convince them to drop the charges entirely, don't you? Pen, can you transfer the money to their account, please?"
"Of course, ... as soon as I can get my Windows machine to recognize the fact it has a modem connected to it again," Pen groused.
Martin looked up with a smile. "I can fix that!" he said.
Jed awoke with a start, covered in sweat. Used by now to these sorts of dreams, he suppressed the urge to cry out. He and Jared had lain awake for quite a long while, talking about what Jared had been through and what it meant for them, and he figured the dream related to that.
Jared roused. "Pmphp," he commented blearily. Then, "What's wrong?"
"Another bad dream ... and it felt like the premonition kind."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Jed replied. "I was a disembodied presence, like sometimes happens in them, watching ... you know Marky?"
"C.J.'s friend? Yeah."
"Well, watching Marky's Uncle Kurt having an argument with some dude with a clipboard. Something about a safety inspection."
"You want to tell Dan about that in the morning." Jared brushed back Jed's hair from his forehead. "You're sweaty." He got up, slipped into the bathroom across the hall, and drew a little water. Bringing back a warm washcloth, he began to sponge Jed down.
Playing surprised, he asked, "What's this?" with a devilish grin.
Jed played along. "It wasn't like that until you started sponging me down, and it's demanding attention. Think you can help?"
"I'll see what I can do," Jared said. "Looks swollen, like something bit you. Maybe I need to drain off what's making it swell up?"
"Yeah, that'd help ... oh, yeah, that's working quite well!"
Abbie wandered into the C.I.C. dining room shortly before 9:00 am. She gladly accepted a coffee from the chefs on duty, and was joined shortly thereafter by Josiah, Maureen, Grace, and George. As they began their breakfast of pancakes and sausage, Jonas and Harry came in, and gleefully collected their own breakfasts. Andy, Brandon, and the twins came running in and immediately hit the food lines, followed a little later by Calvin and the fourteen rescued kids, and then a few minutes later by a yawning Philip, Skipper, and Bobby.
"Ready to go home?" a voice came from overhead. Startled, they looked up, to see Peter hanging by his knees from one of the lighting fixtures. He giggled.
"Hadn't we better say good-bye to our hosts?" Josiah said in a tone that implied Peter needed to learn politeness.
"Naah, they're gonna be busy with their kids, and you'll see them again real soon!" Peter replied.
Josiah looked skeptical. "I think we can trust Peter on this, dear," Maureen interjected, realizing the little Mikyvis probably knew things they didn't.
Josiah gave in and nodded. George summoned his kids from where they were talking with some of the Rimmers, and hid a smile as Drew Hundser reacted startledly to his calling his own Drew and Randy.
Skipper spoke up. "We need to stop off in Utah and collect our helicopter."
"I'll take care of that," came Daileass's voice. "You guys ready?"
"Yep," Bobby said. Moments later Grace, Skipper, Bobby, Brandon and Andy were gone.
"Okay, off to Arkham," Peter grinned, and they too vanished.
The travelers materialized in Maureen's living room and the adjacent dining room. Harry took one look at the clock and said, "That's not right. It ought to be a lot later here."
Peter giggled. "I hate jet lag," he smiled. "It's easier to do a time jump and keep it the same time body language than to keep things simultaneous and be your natural body time shift." He paused, then looked at the Wentworth twins. "Besides, you guys got a job to do this morning, for Grampa Sarek."
"Yeah, we do," Philip recalled. "C'mon, you two; we gotta get into our monkey suits for this."
Harry got a sense of foreboding. "Clan cloaks and weapons, for all five of us," he directed.
Jonas nodded. "Harry's right. We don't know what's coming, so be prepared."
Terry whispered to Trent, then to Jacky, who spoke up. "Um, Mr. Jonas, sir?"
Jonas grimaced. "Keep the sirs down to one an hour, bud. We're supposed to be brothers; you should be sassing me, not treating me like I'm some kind of general or something."
Jacky gave him a smile, one of his first. "Okay! But listen, Terry thinks the twins might need him ... just based on how they 'feel' mentally. They're more scareder of this than they're letting on."
"I thought as much," Philip spoke up. "Terry, stick with me, and don't be afraid to speak up if you think it's needed."
Trent's eyes were on Jacky, and speaking volumes of unvoiced concern. "Can we ... Trent and me ... come along on this?" Jacky asked.
Jonas paused in thought. "I don't have any reason why not, but I'm worried about how you guys are going to react. Remember, these are the same sorts of people as your High Pastors were."
"That's why we need to be there," Jacky said quietly. Trent looked at the same time terrified and resolute; he nodded agreement.
"You know any weapons?" Jonas asked.
"Nope," Jacky answered. "But I could hold my own in school fights before I got picked for the High Pastors' harem."
"All right then," Jonas said. "Follow our lead, mine and Harry's." Jacky nodded agreement.
"You two stick with me," George said to Randy and Drew.
"Um, no, sir," Jonas said to him, firmness and diffidence mixed in his tone. "They're your boys and you need to protect them as a father, I get that. But this is a Clan intervention, by direct orders of Grandfather Sarek, so while they're with us, it's my job, and Philip's and Harry's, to ensure their safety." He thought briefly. "Since we don't have instant transport other than Peter, you and Dad could provide us with a ride over to the FCC chapel, then stand by to call in the Sheriff or Starfleet for backup, if you like."
"I don't like it," George said, "but I suppose I'll have to go along with it."
"We're doing what we need to, father," Philip said, "and that includes the twins using their special skills, and me, Harry, and Jonas making sure they don't get hurt."
"Let's get rolling, then," Josiah put in. "Jacky, why don't you ride with George and his boys, and Terry and Trent, you're with me, Jonas, and Harry."
Linda stepped forward. She drew Philip into a tight embrace, and planted a firm kiss on his lips. "Go do what you need to do," she breathed, "but come back safe." As she pulled away, blushing slightly, Philip's pants were noticeably tented, and he was blushing deeply.
"It's fine," George told him. "That's how things are supposed to work." He dropped his arm across Philip's shoulders as they walked out.
"Come on, Linda, let's get the girls' rooms fixed up," Abbie said to her. "Calv... u, Gilroy, why don't you take the littler boys and give them a hand with theirs?"
"Sure," the young redhead said with a smile.
"Manuel took Calvin down to his room with him," giggled Randy as he and Drew followed their father and brother out.
"I'll be in my office," Maureen told Abbie.
Skipper looked on as Bobby and Brandon followed Ronnie through the Medevac helicopter, checking out what he had done to restock it after the battle they had been in. Andy followed them, finicky as only an eight-year-old who's been given a responsibility can be.
Skipper's view is that it's a good idea to have everything you might need on hand, but it's easier to improvise in a pinch than to try to second-guess everything that might happen. So while remaining alert to what Ronnie had provided, he was amused at the boys' seriousness. Grace was speaking with Doctor Gordan about her R.N.P. credentials.
Todd came bouncing into the ship. "Can I hitch a ride back with you guys?"
"I don't see why not," Skipper replied. "Daileass, can you transport this bird, or will we need to fly it back?"
There was a rather long pause, and Todd got a concerned look on his face. Then, "Um, Skipper, I may need you guys' help."
"Sure, Dail'; what's up?"
"I'll explain...."
Dan awoke happy and content, and enjoying the unusual-to-him feeling immensely. He was cuddled up against Tony's side as Tony continued to sleep, feeling secure and, to be honest, a trifle lustful at the muscular, masculine naked body next to him. Dan's self-image had always been focused on what he could do to make someone else happy – first his parents, then Jerome, and now Tony. His small-for-a-teen body would have been considered cute by an unbiased observer, but to him it was just a source of low self-esteem.
He boned up a bit as he admired the musculature of Tony's relaxed body. Then his gaze drifted down to Tony's cock. Either the onset of morning wood or an erotic dream had served to engorge Tony's equipment, and it lay at an angle across the right side of his abdomen, swollen and to Dan an enticing sight.
He reached out and caressed Tony's side. The cock twitched and swelled a bit more. There was now a definite delighted grin on Dan's face; he lowered his head and took it in his mouth. Moments later it was fully hard. Tony roused slightly and moaned.
Emboldened, Dan got up onto his knees, spreading them widely, one on either side of Tony's hips, and slowly brought his buttocks down, guiding Tony's cock into his sphincter. Dan was horny, to be sure, but harmonizing with that was the desire that, if Tony enjoyed sex with him as much as the previous night had proven he did, Dan was going to make him as happy as possible.
As Tony penetrated him, Dan sucked in his breath, then began a slow, steady up-and-down riding motion.
Tony's eyes flew open. A full night of restful sleep had restored his full awareness, which had been dulled by the stresses of the previous day. "oh, God, Dan, NO!" he shouted. "You don't deserve to be treated like this!"
Dan was crushed. He jumped up and ran for the door, slapped the palm lock, and ran out blindly, stark naked and not caring about it, or even where he went. What Tony had meant, of course, is that Dan deserved better than to be a fuck toy ... but that is not how he had phrased it, and with Dan's low self-image, he'd heard what he dreaded to hear. Tony stared after him, shocked.