Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 36
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: rom nosex

Keywords for full story:  rom, mf, MF, mmf, MFF, M+F, mm, F-solo, ir, D/s,
bdsm, mdom, spank, oral, anal, 1st, reluc, nc, voy

Strange Relationships

Copyright © Thinking Horndog, 2006 im_a_thinker@yahoo.com

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit
is forbidden.  Any distribution must include this note and the author's
email address. Don’t be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment!  Be warned!  If you’re not into graphic
depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you!  If you’re too young to
be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction.  It is not intended to reflect any particular
person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form
solely in the writer’s imagination.  You get the idea.

Chapter 36
Erin Proves to be a Distraction and Tabitha Goes on Display

	"You want to tell me what THAT was all about?"

	Helene Bryant was standing in the entryway with her hands on her
hips.

	"I went to the basketball game, and got a ride home." Louise said
carefully.

	"From a boy."  It wasn't a question.

	"Yes."

	"And all that flopping around before you got out?"

	"I was putting on my sweatpants."

	Helene's eyes bugged.  "You were NAKED in a pickup with a boy?"

	"No, silly!  I had on shorts!"  Louise slipped down the waistband to
her sweatpants to a point low enough to expose the gym shorts beneath, but
not enough to reveal damning details like the fact that there were no
panties beneath them.

	"What were you doing that you suddenly had to put on pants, then?"
Helene accused.

	"It was easier to put them on than to stuff them in my bag.
Besides, I was HOPING to avoid THIS!" Louise retorted.

	"Watch that smart mouth, Young Lady!  I saw you kiss him!  Do you go
around kissing boys, then?  How many boys have you been out kissing?" Helene
demanded.

	"One, counting this one.  Mama, how am I ever going to meet someone
and get married at this rate?  What do you expect, lightning to strike?"
Louise retorted.

	"Marriage isn't all it's cracked up to be," Helene grunted.

	"So you DON'T want me to be married?"

	"I do, but I want you to find a NICE boy, not someone who cops
kisses from you for a ride home and feels you up in your gym clothes!"

	"Mama!"  Louise stamped her foot.  "Dwayne IS a nice boy!  He's on
the basketball team!  I like him!  And we didn't do anything sordid, for
God's sake!"

	"Watch your mouth!"  Helene took a swing at Louise, one which Louise
ducked with the ease of long practice.  "You'll not take the Lord's name in
vain in MY house!"

	"Yes, Mama."  Louise moved to defuse the situation.

	"Acting like a slut in cars with boys.  With a jock, no less!  If
you get pregnant, you're on the street, you hear me?"

	"Yes, Mama."

	"And this boy, Dwayne.  If he darkens our door, he'd better keep his
hands to himself!  I suppose he'll be back -- you've probably promised him
sex!"

	"I DID NOT!" Louise screeched hotly.

	Helene produced a sarcastic smile.  "Then I needn't worry about him
coming back, I guess..."

	Louise opened her mouth to contradict her mother with information on
the planned date, but grew sense at the last moment and shut it.  Better
that she cross THAT bridge later, when the movie outing hopefully wouldn't
become connected in her mother's mind with Dwayne...

	Helene took this as victory and stalked off, glorying in the fact
that once again she'd had the last word.

                         --------------------

	"We got trouble, Randall," Teddy announced, hovering over Randall's
chess game.  "Toby says he's coming."

	"Shit!  HE'S not in the know!  And I don't want him to be!"  Randall
fumed.  Technically, Toby Brillsteen was a member of the Astronomy Club, but
he only attended when it suited him -- usually when there was entertainment
NOT involving astronomy.  "Has he sniffed anything?"

	Teddy shrugged.  "I don't think so.  But we're attracting girls..."

	"Yeah."  Randall's brain went into overdrive.  "We're gonna need a
girl to distract him..."

	"You're the one with hot and cold running women, Man.  I'm sharing
one."

	"Yeah."  There was an obvious answer, but would it work?  "Where's
Mary?  I could take a run at this, but having a girl around would help..."

	"She and Stick are goofing off in the parking lot," Teddy replied.
"I just got this, or I'd be gone."  He flicked his eyes across the room,
where Toby was playing another member of the chess club.

	"Go get her.  Stick, too, if necessary."

	"Okay."  Teddy's look said that Randall's tolerance level for Stick
was going to have to go up.  Randall couldn't figure out why for the life of
him, but...

	Addressing his current opponent, a somewhat nervous freshman,
Randall said, "We're going to need to finish this fairly quickly, or I'm
going to have to forfeit.  Get ready..."  Three minutes later, the game was
over, and Randall was advising, "You need to use other pieces besides your
queen.  You've got tunnel vision, and you're missing moves."

	The trio arrived, and Mary opened up with, "Teddy says there's
trouble."

	Randall nodded.  "Yeah, let's go outside."  He flicked a glance at
Toby.  Once in the hall, he amplified, "Toby's invited himself to Astronomy
Club.  Since we won't be doing much astronomy, and Toby has a big mouth,
that's bad.  We need a distraction.  I have an idea, but I'm not sure I can
carry it off..."

	"Oh?"  Mary raised her eyebrows.

	"Yeah.  Tell me if this will work; Erin is probably going to want
some more practice on her technique, and Toby is more in her league,
anyway..."

	Mary pondered this, nodded.  Toby wasn't really a hothouse brain --
he was a step down, and he had other interests and distractions -- one of
which, supposedly un-dealt with, being sex.  Toby wasn't a huge guy, either,
being a bit taller than Teddy, freckled, with brown hair and eyes.  He spent
a lot of time pretending to be experienced, but everybody saw right through
it.  He'd want to exercise a little authority when the time came, to boost
his ego a bit; Erin was airheaded enough to be a good choice, as she
wouldn't even try to compete if he handled it properly.  "What about the
physical part?  You've had Erin..."  Erin had told the world that Randall
was good -- but Randall had kept his mouth shut.  "And you've seen Toby..."

	Randall had to think about it, but Teddy didn't.  "Six inches or so,
a little thicker than Stick, circumcized..."  Randall blinked and eyed Teddy
with a look that said 'You're looking?'  Teddy blushed and shrugged.

	Mary put a positive face on it, "Good.  He ever had any?"

	"Not that I know of," Randall grunted.  He flicked a glance at
Teddy, since he seemed to know so much...

	Teddy shrugged.  "Not that I'm aware of.  He just talks a lot."

	Mary eyed Randall.  "What makes you think this will work?"

	Randall shrugged.  "Erin makes our... encounter seem like something
wonderful, but she needs a lot of work.  She likes the feel of a cock, but
she needs to have her clit worked on to get off, and she's not any too
demonstrative."

	"Meaning she's a dead lay." Mary grunted.

	Randall nodded.  "She doesn't have to be -- I'm Superman,
supposedly, because I managed to find the combination and get her off...
She says she CAN move, and she did put it in gear some when she was hitting
her peak.  She said a couple of things that make me think she thought she
was just supposed to lay there, not move, and enjoy it.  I think she's going
to want to practice her new tricks."  He shrugged.  "Last, but not least,
she's easy, once she sets her mind to it.  If we point her at Toby, she'll
probably do what we want her to do -- chase him down, right away, and drag
him home with her."  He sighed.  "I'm a little embarrassed, telling tales
like this."

	"I won't spread rumors, Hon, and I needed to know," Mary replied.
"Okay, you guys can stay here; I'll handle this.  Stick, you can stay here,
or you can watch some basketball..."

	"I don' see me learnin' chess," Stick replied, so Mary crooked a
finger for him to follow her as she departed.

	Randall stood there, watching them depart, then turned a thoughtful
glance on Teddy.  Teddy sighed.  "Maybe I'll explain it all during the true
confessions hour tonight.  Do you have another scheduled match?"

	"No."

	"Let's play, then, while we wait."

                         --------------------

	Erin hadn't messed with the top of the bleachers like Louise and
Mary Eikenberry -- it wasn't her style.  She was one row back from the
bench, scoping buns.  Maybe Dwayne, or Bobby...  Stick took a seat a ways
over, and Mary made shift to wedge herself in beside Erin, drawing a couple
of glares from people who got crowded by the insertion.  "Hey, Erin.
Scoping buns?"

	"Yeah."

	"You really want to saddle yourself with a jock?"  Mary jumped right
off.

	"Sure, why?" Erin asked, puzzled.

	"Well, they're big now, but high school basketball don't pay the
bills.  Besides, fame makes 'em fickle; something better comes along and
poof!"  Mary shook her head, "I figured after Randall, you'd look at guys
with other skills..."

	"Brains?  I can't talk to 'em..."

	"Look for something a bit lower in the stratosphere, then.  Ummm,
Toby, for instance..."

	"Brillsteen?"

	"Yeah.  Toby runs with the hothouse brains, but he's a step or two
down the ladder.  On the other hand, he's looking, and he's a better all-
around long-term prospect.  Not that bad looking, either."  Theoretically
apropos of nothing, Mary changed the subject, "Everybody has Randall's
report card, but he's been mum..."

	Erin colored.  "What he did for me was a lot better than what I did
for him..."

	"Oh?"

	"Uh huh.  I, uh, it's embarrassing..."

	"Tell Mama and she'll help you fix it.  Us girls have to stick
together!" Mary cajoled.

	"I'm... kinda dry, and I love having a dick sliding in and out of
me, but it's not enough..."

	Mary nodded sagely.  "Need a little clitty work to make it all
happen?  That's not unusual..."

	"Really?  I thought I was a lesbian or something..."

	"I doubt it."  Mary waited until the roar accompanying a goal
settled a bit, and asked, "How is the combination?"

	"Huh?"

	"Clit work and a dick?"

	"OH!  Heavenly!  Four or five times better than just diddling..."
Erin grinned enthusiastically.

	"I wouldn't worry about girls, then," Mary counseled.  "So what
happened?"

	"Well, Randall's HUGE, and I'm kinda dry, so it took a while to get
in.  Then he got going, and it was wonderful, so I held still...  Anyway, it
went on FOREVER, and Randall started getting tired and red in the face; I
knew he was doing his best, but I was missing something.  Then he suggested
that I diddle myself a little, and that's when things took off; once my
clitty got a little direct action -- and it was a LOT less than usual! --
things started multiplying...  I actually STOPPED diddling, but Randall had
it all going and I couldn't stop -- I got a BIG one -- STUPENDOUS!"  She
looked away, embarrassed.  "I can't wait to do it again..."

	"Okay, so what did you learn?"

	"I'm a dead lay," Erin replied.  "Lying still wasn't a good idea.
That's probably why nobody ever came back for seconds."

	Mary shrugged, "That and the fact that you didn't get off...  Boys
are a lot more vulnerable than you think -- especially about sex!  Climbing
on and having the girl not even react is a real blow to the ego."

	"Yeah, I see that.  But it FELT good..."

	"Well, 'it Felt good' is nowhere CLOSE to 'OMIGAWD, I got this HUGE
cum!' is it?" Mary chuckled.

	"Nope," Erin grinned, "Guess not.  I was pretty amazed that Randall
took me up on my offer -- the jocks just kinda smirk nowadays."

	Mary nodded.  "The word's out in that group, I'd bet.  Just another
reason to move on.  If you catch a guy and give him a good show, it'll make
them all look stupid, you know..."  She paused a moment.  "You're pretty up-
front," she murmured gently.

	"Well, I like it," Erin replied.  "I liked it even before Randall
showed me the top end!  But it got to be a struggle..."

	"So you got more and more obvious," Mary finished.  Erin nodded.
"You definitely need to fish in a different pond, Hon.  These fish have all
seen your lures."

	"Well, maybe," Erin sighed.  "Mom's working this weekend, and I was
hoping to try out the new stuff.  I guess I'll have to wait until Monday to
see if Toby knows all about me or not..."

	"No need," Mary replied.  "He's down the hall in Chess Club, playing
with Teddy.  Why do you think I'M here?"

	"KEWL!  Let's go!"  Erin was up and moving.

	"Easy!  Easy!" Mary panted.  The pair were immediately tied up,
trying to worm their way out of the bleachers.  Once on the floor, Erin made
to dash off, but then realized that the heavier girl was still in heavy
weather negotiating the benches behind her.  Mary cleared the bleachers and
Erin spun to take off, but Mary grabbed her arm, "Whoa!  He's not going
anywhere in the next couple of minutes, and I think you could use some
advice!"

	Erin shrugged.  "Okay, but..."

	"We can talk as we walk."  Mary stepped off beside her.  "Do you
have lube?"

	"Ummm, no."

	A light came on in Mary's brain.  "Rubbers?"

	"No."

	"Are you on the Pill or something?"

	"No."

	"Ever hear of pregnancy?  You know, babies?"

	"Well, yeah."

	"Are you in a rush to experience it?"

	"Well, no..."

	"You sure act like it!  If you get going and the boy doesn't have
any, what are you gonna do?"

	"Ummmm..."

	"You're gonna fuck now and worry later, aren't you?"  Mary shook her
head.  So THAT was how airheads reproduced...  Maybe Erin was lucky in her
sexual response, since once she had kids, she'd probably have to make her
living on her back...  "That's not smart, Honey.  Damn!"

	"What?"

	"Well, I'm not carrying.  I'm on the Pill, and besides, if I was,
it'd be big ones."

	"Do you REALLY have two boyfriends?  How do you handle them both?"
Erin asked.

	"Fortunately, they get along," Mary chuckled.  "My advice?  'Don't
try this at home!'  Besides, there's more of me to love...  Will your Mom
flip if you ask for the Pill?  Tell her your periods hurt or something..."

	"Huh!  They do!"

	"So much the better...  Okay, advice:  Birth control wins over
romance.  He'll understand, and he'll be prepared the second time.  Get some
lube.  If you can't or don't have anything to hand, have him use spit."

	"Huh?"

	"Get him to eat you.  You've done that, right?"

	"Uh, no..."

	"Well, try it!  It's great stuff, and it'll get your clit going AND
make you wet!  Oh, and blow him -- most guys haven't had it in a while, so
the first pass could be embarrassingly quick.  Swallow the first one --
he'll come back up.  If you're doin' it regularly, he might not be as
primed, but the first time?  Blow him.  You'll be doing yourselves both a
favor."

	"Suck his cock?"

	"Uh huh.  It's okay -- you'll like it.  And it's kind of a gift.
Besides, if he has his tongue in you, it's only fair...  Oh, and swallow."

	They had coasted to a stop.  There was a lot of information passing
here, and Erin needed to absorb it.  "Swallow?"

	"Yep.  Swallow his cum.  Swallow his cock if you can -- take it deep
and work it with your throat.  You know, 'deep throat' it!"

	"Ummm, I've never..."

	"He won't mind telling you what he wants.  It's another weapon you
can bring to bear.  Since you're not sure you can hold him with pussy..."

	"Uh huh."  Shit had gotten complicated.  But Mary was an expert...

	"Some girls don't like the taste, but, frankly, boys don't want to
hear that.  You might be able to negotiate getting him to shoot on your
face, after the first couple of times, but remember that a guy's instinct is
to shoot IN a girl, whatever hole he uses.  He will NOT be thrilled if you
spit it out, either!  Shooting on your face is another thing, anyway.  It
kinda says you're a slut and not worth his sperm.  It's an ego thing for
him, but it says bad things about you, long term, so I recommend that you
swallow."

	"Uh huh.  Okay..."  Erin was awash.

	"I wouldn't do it right away, and I DEFINITELY wouldn't do it
without lube, but if you get caught short for a rubber, you can always offer
him ass..."

	"WHAT?  My asshole?"  Erin was shocked.

	"Yeah, I know -- sounds yucky.  And it is, sometimes, if you're not
clean.  But it's a nice, tight, deep hole for him, and you'd be amazed how
it feels if he takes it easy at the start.  Best of all, you can't get
pregnant there..."

	"Right."  Getting dicked was sure complicated!  Erin had always
thought it was all pretty simple...

	"Where were we?  Lube.  In your case, it's very important!  Carry
some,"  Mary eyed her,.  "Along with rubbers.  Everywhere, if you like dick.
If you're hard up for lube, having him eat you will do wonders, but there
are other things -- butter, olive oil...  Not TOO much, though -- you just
want him to be able to get in, not make both of you so super-slick that you
can't feel each other..."

	"Okay."  Such a lot of things to think about...

	"You've already discovered that you need to move.  Diddle yourself
or get him to do it -- and make noises if it comes naturally.  Don't do
anything hokey, though -- you don't want to get caught faking it."  Mary
stepped back.  "Ready?"

	"Umm, I dunno.  How am I gonna start this?" Erin worried.

	Mary recognized the effects of information overload.  "Take it easy.
Drift in and wander over to him.  Get inside his personal space, but make it
worth it."

	"How?"

	"You KNOW how!  Just make it a little less obvious!"  Mary shook her
head.  "I know I saddled you with a bunch of stuff, but this is important!
If you want a shot at keeping him, you can't just fork it all over -- make
him work for it!  He'll appreciate it more, and that will work to your
advantage, believe me!"  Erin pouted, and Mary insisted, "Nobody says you
can't give it up tonight -- just make him think it's because he's a red hot
lover, and you couldn't control yourself, that's all..."

	"Oh, okay!"  Erin's enthusiasm level shot up.

	"Go lean on him, or 'accidentally' rub a tit on his arm -- nothing
too obvious -- and see what he does.  Even money says he asks you out," Mary
advised.

	"Kewl!  Let's go!"  Erin hit the door.

	Mary looked behind her, and Stick, who had been watching through the
gym doors, drifted through them headed her way.  "All set?"

	"I hope so," Mary worried.  "She's not exactly bright."

	Mary needn't have worried.  Erin drifted into the room and asked,
"Hey, what are you guys doing?"

	Toby couldn't resist sarcasm.  "Chess.  This is Chess Club.  So we,
like, play chess, ya know?"

	Erin homed on him, moving up on his right and murmuring, "Oh, look!
Little statues!"  She reached out.

	Toby grabbed her hand.  "The statues have different roles, and the
positions are important.  Don't touch!"

	Erin stopped, and Toby found himself with Erin's forearm in his
grip.  Erin shifted left, pressing her left hip to Toby's shoulder and
raised the arm until Toby found his forearm against her right breast.
"Really?  What does the horsey do?"

	"Umm..."  Did this silly girl know what she was doing?  "It has a
pretty fancy move.  Unfortunately, I can't show you right now, because if I
move it, I have to use it."

	"Kewl."  Erin dropped the arm, causing Toby to release it, but she
braced her left arm on Toby's shoulder.  "So which one are you going to
move?"

	"Dunno yet.  I have to think about it.  Shhh, now!"  Toby returned
his attention to the game, apparently, but his game deteriorated markedly.
Ten minutes later, his opponent announced "Checkmate!" and sat back,
thrilled to death at his win.

	"You lost..." Erin murmured.

	"Yeah.  I had a handicap."  Toby eyed Erin sidelong.

	"Sorry!"  Erin stood up.  "Are you done, then?"

	"Yeah."

	"Well, maybe I can make it up to you.  Are you doing anything
tonight?  Maybe we could do something..."  Erin tilted her head, and Mary
smiled.

	Toby blinked.  "I think, uh, yeah, maybe..."

	"Kewl."  Erin grinned.  "I'll be out front..."

	"I'll be along in a minute.  I have to talk to someone..."

	Erin nodded and swept out.

	Toby wandered over to where Randall and Teddy sat watching.  "Guess
I'm not coming tonight."

	Randall nodded, chuckling.  The shoe was on the other foot...  "Got
any rubbers?"

	"Yeah..."  The possibility that the rubber that Toby undoubtedly had
moldering in his wallet might not be intact was clearly written on his face.

	"Want some advice?" Randall asked.

	"You think she's really gonna?"

	"If you handle things right."

	"What do YOU know about it?" Toby sneered.

	"You'd be surprised," Randall replied.  "Look, Man, if you get
there, diddle her clit and eat her pussy.  Drives 'em wild!"

	Toby rolled his eyes, "The wisdom of the ancients!"

	Teddy laughed.  "If you use that ancient rubber in your wallet,
you'll be a daddy!  Better find a way to fix that!"

	"Yeah, whatever."  Toby couldn't take any more heat; he got the Hell
out of there.

                         --------------------

	"Nora," Nate complained when she met him on the steps, "Mama ain't
in the hospital any more.  You know where she is?"

	"Daddy does, I bet.  They were talking about moving her -- she
wanted it.  I'll call."  She snatched her cell from her purse, "Daddy?"

	""Daughter?"

	"Where is Nate's Mama?"

	"Hold on."  Armand punched Charlotte up on the intercom.  "Get me
Witherspoon.  I need to know where Tabitha Adams is being sequestered.  If
possible, I need someone to take her son and my daughter to her."

	"Yessir." Charlotte got on it.

	"I don't know, exactly, but I'm finding out," Armand related.
"She's at a safe house, so you can be sure she's fine."

	"Thanks, Daddy -- Nate just wants to visit," Nora replied.  Turning
to Nate, she relayed, "She's somewhere safe, and she's fine.  Daddy's
getting the location."

	"Cool."  It wasn't, quite.  Nate trusted Mr. Wilson -- sort of.
He'd been doing all the right things, but Nate was pretty amazed that he'd
bother with all this shit -- even for his daughter!  That unease
communicated itself to Nora, but she understood.  It wasn't as if Daddy had
that long of a track record with HER...

	Three minutes later Charlotte's voice came over the intercom.
"They're sending Mr. Matheson.  Ten minutes."

	"Mr. Matheson will arrive in ten minutes," Armand relayed.  "If Nate
wants, he can leave his car to the security detail to bring here."

	Nora turned to Nate.  "Daddy says they'll be here in ten minutes,
and that you can get one of the security people to take your car home."

	"Awright."  The arrangements bothered him somewhat, but again, he
had no reason to think that Mr. Wilson was pulling anything.  "How?"

	"Charlotte, have someone in Nate and Nora's detail pick up his car."
Armand directed.

	"Yessir."

	"Someone will pick up the keys momentarily," Armand amplified.
"Anything else?"

	"Somebody will get the keys," Nora relayed.  "No, Daddy, I think
we're set."

	"Goodbye, then."  The phone went dead.

	Moments later, Scott surfaced, seemingly out of nowhere.  "I'm
playing valet, I guess."

	"Oh, sorry, Man," Nate mumbled.

	"No sweat -- I'll hand it off," the big black grinned.  "Tell your
Mama I said 'Hi'."  He collected Nate's keys and strode off, whistling.

	"Fuckin' scary."  Nate shook his head.  "I bet if I ran outta toilet
paper, somebody would show up and hand me a roll..."  Nora shrieked
laughter.

	Matheson arrived several minutes ahead of schedule.  "I was close
by," he muttered, as he handed the pair into an SUV.

	"Why all the secrecy?" Nora asked.

	"We're keeping Tabitha at one of our safe houses," Paul replied.
"It's both for her protection and to keep the location secure for the
future."

	Nate grunted.  THAT made sense.  The worries receded.

                         --------------------

	Ten minutes later, the SUV pulled into the driveway of a nice but
nondescript place that Nora figured was ten or twelve blocks from what she
was learning to think of as 'Mom's house' or perhaps 'Mom's old house.'  The
garage door opened and Paul parked the vehicle inside, denying any
information about the occupants from prying eyes.  "We're pretty clear,
since we're being tailed by our own security detachment, but you never
know..." Paul muttered.  They entered the house at the kitchen -- but the
room had clearly been truncated to make room for a monitoring center.  Up
the stairs and down the hall they went, to a room whose door was already
ajar.

	Tabitha was sitting in a chair, watching TV.  She glanced up and
nodded at Nate and Nora, then eyed Matheson sidelong, "So, where the fuck
YOU been?"

	Paul froze, pondered a moment, and grunted, "Hiding."

	Tabitha cocked her head and batted her eyes comically, "From li'l
old me?"

	Paul nodded.  "I wouldn't duck a football team with baseball bats,
but YOU'RE SCARY!"

	Nate blinked.  "Mama?"

	"I axed him to help me check an' see if the equipment works,"
Tabitha amplified.  She eyed Paul, sighing.  "An' he got all shy.  Cute
ain't he?"

	"Ain't it a little early?" Nate asked.

	"Mebbe," his mother shrugged, "mebbe not.  Dunno 'til ya try..."
Fact was, with the possible exception of her 'money maker', Tabitha was
feeling better than she had in years -- and she was bored to tears...
Shrugging, she turned to Nate.  "How y'all been?"

	"Okay," Nate shrugged.  "Worked last night.  Gettin' fed regular,
just like you.  Stayin' outta trouble to keep the ol' lady happy..."  Nora
gasped and swatted him reflexively, and everyone laughed.  "What 'bout you?"

	"Shit this place is the Ritz!" Tabitha grinned.  "Got my own cable
TV, all the food I can eat, an' it don't hafta be healthy shit.  Ain't
buzzin', but I ain't really hurtin' either.  Shit, I could probly take on a
plumber's convention!"  Tabitha was still on an IV, but had been told by the
medic watching her that it would come out in the morning, and could be
disconnected any time.  "They're pumpin' me fulla water; I think they're
tryin' ta inflate my tits.  I gotta pee alla time..."  She grinned.  "They'd
be smarter bringin' me a bicycle pump..."  Everybody laughed.  "Dunno when
I'm gonna get out, though."

	"Mr. Wilson isn't through with Rodday, but he hasn't decided what to
do with him,"  Paul replied.  "If we sent you home, Rodday might be tempted
to do something stupid.  Besides, you're eating and gaining weight, getting
rest, healing..."

	"An' backin' off on the shit," Tabitha finished, eyeing Paul.
"Somehow, they allus manage not ta say that, like I don' know 'bout it or
sumpthin'."  Switching tracks, she said, "Best thing we can do now ta fuck
Rodday is get me seen out in the 'hood.  Let the gals know I ain't dead."
She scratched her ribs reflectively.  "After that, hittin' him in his pocket
would hurt worst.  I wanted ta ride his tired ass wit' a strap-on, but it'd
be better fuckin' him outta some money than it would jus' fuckin' him."  She
turned to Nora, "How awful bad does your Daddy consider prostitution?"

	Nora grimaced, shrugged.  "I don't know, really.  I bet he considers
it minor, at worst..."

	Matheson grinned, "Based upon his lunch conversation with Rodday,
the other day, he considers it a business, with a product that fulfills a
basic need -- and he considers Rodday to be a poor businessman.  From what I
heard, he considers ALL pimps to be poor businessmen."

	"Never seen a good one," Tabitha grunted.

	"It comes from making servicing a basic human need illegal," Paul
opined.  "There are places where prostitution is legal -- even taxed by the
government.  Civilized places.  Works just fine.  But you make it a criminal
activity, and it gets run by criminals..."

	"Yeh," Tabitha agreed.  "Pimps, girls who figure that since it ain't
legal in the first place, it's okay to rip off johns, johns that want to get
something for free for the same reason..."  She eyed Paul sidelong,
"Speakin' of basic human needs..."

	"... You have to pee?" Paul guessed, eyes laughing.  Tabitha's look
started shifting toward a glare, so he held up his hands.  "We'll talk about
it after I take the kids home.  Handle them first, will you?"

	"You gonna BE back?" Tabitha wanted to know.

	"Yeah.  I'll come back.  I can only stay stupid so long."  Paul
started shading toward red again.

	"Awright."  Tabitha's head swiveled to regard Nora.  "What 'bout
you?  Dickhead here treatin' you right?  He ain't off diddlin' old women
again, is he?"

	"Hey!  I didn't..." Nate started hotly, but a smiling Nora quelled
him with a hand on his arm. "No, he's been fine," she replied.  "Once he
understood that what he did wasn't that innocent, everything was cool.
Actually, I was the bad one yesterday -- I had to meet the woman."

	"Bet you thought she was a strange duck," Tabitha guessed..

	"Well, I guess.  Then again, I kind of felt sorry for her.  From
what she said, she discovered sex at thirty and was trying to catch up,"
Nora replied.

	"Goin' at it hard, then, is she?" Tabitha chuckled.

	"Uh huh.  Probably should have started at twelve, but she was
waiting for Mr. Right."

	"Lemme guess -- he ain't showed up YET!" Tabitha hazarded,
chuckling.

	Nora shook her head.  "Not that I can see.  Her boss is her primary
sex partner -- and he's married.  She's kind of doing a slave thing, and
apparently doesn't care..."

	"Hon, for a lotta folk, it's git the crumbs ya can.  The whole cake
just ain't happenin'.  Hell, that's how I pay the bills..." Tabitha advised.
"Love an' marriage ain't as closely tied as folk will tell ya -- an' sex
lotsa times don't fit either."

	"How are the piercings?"  The men might as well not have been there.
To a certain extent, both had fulfilled their function.  Nate was there;
he'd proven his concern for his Mama merely by showing up -- it wasn't as if
they talked that much.  Paul's situation was a bit more vague, but he was
done for now, too.  On to girl talk.

	"Tongue is only sore when I fuck with it," Tabitha replied.  "Nips
are sore, but it's that healing sore -- the one you wanna pick at.  Ain't no
infections, or anything.  I'm gettin' that antiseptic stuff poured on 'em a
couple times a day."

	"Do you need anything?"

	"Nuthin' I cain't chase down myself, or ask one of these guys around
here ta chase down.  Coupla days, it'll be time ta hit the street -- 'til
then, I'm good."  Tabitha shrugged.  The only question in her mind was how
in Hell she was gonna pay back Nora's daddy; she had NO ideas about that...
"Y'all run along -- enjoy your Friday night.  Me an' your Daddy gonna have
to have a sit-down talk 'bout all this, but I don't think either one o' us
knows what ta say yet -- so I'm gonna sit here on my ass an' watch some TV,
an' mebbe see if my equipment all works later.  Go on, I'm fine.  Hit the
door!  Thanks fer checking, though, botha ya..."  Tabitha started hustling
the kids out.

	"Bye, Mama."  Nate kissed his mother's cheek.

	The two were out the door, and gathering themselves in the hallway
when Tabitha's hand closed on Paul Matheson's bicep, "YOU git yer ass back
here!" Tabitha hissed quietly, locking eyes with the big man.  "You hear?"

	Paul nodded and moved on, disengaging himself.

                         --------------------

	In the car, Nora asked, "So, you and Draper had some plan?"

	"Yeh," Nate replied.  "He figures if we doubled again, and Tenisha
gets grabby, you and I won't freak.  I was thinkin' that the drive-in would
be nice, but I can't think of a way to get it to pan out..."

	"What's the problem?"

	"If we go together, it's seats.  My car's tiny, an' if we go in
Draper's somebody hasta put up with the center console...  Mine has that
problem, too, actually."

	"Oh."  Bucket seats got in the way of necking, never mind
lovemaking; if the four of them went together, what were they going to do,
take turns?

	Paul interjected, "Nora, why don't you talk to your folks?  There is
probably another solution lurking in your father's garage..."

	"What?  A limo?" Nate cracked up.  "Can't watch the movie through
that window between the driver and passengers...  Does it have a sunroof?
We could all hang out...  Mebbe I could borrow Jorge's little hat..."

	Nora laughed, too, but she didn't share the thought that occurred to
her; the limo was wired for sound, and undoubtedly for video, too!  They
could all go out and have fun, then come home and watch themselves on
Daddy's TV...  No, that wasn't smart -- kind of funny, but not smart...

	Paul shrugged.  "Mr. Wilson undoubtedly either has or can get other
vehicles.  I'm betting he has something."

	Nora glanced at Nate and shrugged.  It wouldn't hurt to ask...

	Nate changed the subject, "So, Mama's messing with you?"

	"Just my head, thus far," Paul replied.  "I really don't know how to
handle it."

	"Never seen her take a shine to a guy like that..." Nate offered.
"Maybe she's just payin' up?"

	"I TOLD her that wasn't necessary, and that in any case, I was only
one of several guys on the case.  That didn't seem to be the issue..."

	"Well, it won't hurt nuthin'," Nate shrugged.  "Why don't you just
give her what she wants?"

	"Maybe I will..." Paul mused.

	The remainder of the ride passed pretty much in silence.  Paul
delivered the young couple to the mansion, waved, and drove off.  "I got to
talk to Draper soon," Nate grunted.  "Do you wanna talk to your Mama first?"

	"Yeah, let's go find her," Nora agreed.  "Daddy, too, probably.  I
want to know if I can invite them over..."  Going to the nearest wall
intercom unit, she punched the button.

	"Yes?" a voice answered.

	"This is Nora.  Is my father home?"

	"Yes, Miss -- he's in his study."

	"Can you patch me through?"

	"One moment, Miss."

	"Daughter?"  Armand's voice came on the line.

	"Daddy, I need to talk to you about a couple of things -- like
having guests." Nora announced.

	"Come to my study, then -- I'll send for your mother, too."  The
intercom shut off and the pair set out for the study.

	On arrival, Armand waved them to the couch while he continued with
whatever was occupying him at his desk.  Moments later, Sharon walked in,
"Yes, Armand?"

	"Nora apparently requires parental input.  I sent for you so that
you may also have a voice."  Turning to Nora, Armand continued, "Go ahead."

	"I have, uh, two issues," Nora kicked off.  "Nate and I want to go
to the drive-in with another couple."

	Armand glanced at Sharon and shrugged.  This was small potatoes...
Sharon handled it, "So?  Given the current situation, this doesn't seem
major..."

	"Well, there is more to it than that," Nora replied.  "Neither of
the guy's cars is particularly comfortable for, uh..."

	"Necking," Nate supplied, flicking his eyes back and forth between
his girlfriend's parents.  "Both of our cars got buckets.  My car wouldn't
be too good even in the back..."

	"Ah," Armand nodded.  "Bench seats.  My cars tend toward those,
too."  Turning to Sharon, he asked, "What about your minivan?"

	"Buckets in front," Sharon replied.  "Captain's chairs."

	"Um, it's got two rows behind, though, Mom," Nora noted.

	"Yes..." Sharon pondered a moment.  "Tell me again why I'm
conspiring to allow you and another girl to be felt up?"

	"MOM!"

	"Oh, all right," Sharon grinned.  "Come see me in my rooms.  Jorge
will probably have to dig it out, once I get you the key.  I don't know if
it will really suit your purposes, but I don't guess I'm any too worried.
Who are the other couple?"

	"Draper and Tenisha," Nora replied.  "You've met them."

	"If memory serves," added Armand, "Sex between them would not be a
new thing, and her parents are aware of the situation."

	"Well, yeah," Nora agreed.

	"And the second issue?" Armand pressed.

	"What if I want to invite them back here?" Nora asked.

	"You may use this room, the media room, and other more public areas,
such as the kitchen and dining room," Armand replied.  "That would be the
normal state of affairs.  Also the pool and patio.  We're private, here --
you can even skinny dip, if you're unconcerned about the staff.  If you use
the pool, Pete is your best choice for a lifeguard, if he's about, and young
Bianca would probably enjoy the company."  Armand thought for a moment.  "If
you require a place for them to sleep, brief your mother and she can have
the staff prepare a room near yours.  Keep them out of the playroom."

	"Yes, Daddy."

	"In the normal course of events, a bit of warning would be all I'd
expect.  But if they get an eyeful of something, tough..." Armand added.

	"Yes, Daddy."

	"Very well, then.  Sharon, I leave this to you..." Armand added a
wave of dismissal.

	Out in the hall, Sharon said, "I'll get the keys.  Have Jorge meet
us at the garage."  She held up her hand, stopping their departure.  "I
think I'd warn Tenisha, at least..."

	"Okay, Mom.  I will," Nora promised.

	The van turned out to suit their purposes nicely.  The front seats
could be folded down, allowing both rows of rear seating visual access to
the movie through the windshield.  Jorge started prepping the vehicle, and
Nate got on the phone.  "Draper?"

	"Yeh.  Hey, we still goin' out?  I gotta tell 'Nisha somethin', ya
fuck."

	"Yeah, yeah -- I got us a ride with bench seats in it so we won't be
all fucked up at the movie. Awright?"

	"Cool."

	"Well, it ain't -- it's a fuckin' minivan -- but we're lookin' for
comfort, here..." Nate grunted.  "Why don't y'all come to Nora's, and we'll
jump off from there?"

	"Cool.  I know where that is."

	"Well, no, you don't, Man.  Nora and her Momma moved back in with
her Daddy last Sunday.  You know where the country club is?"  Nate went on
to give complete directions.

	"Man, that's a helluva neighborhood up there," Draper grunted.

	"You ain't seen shit, yet.  Don't be surprised at the house -- it's
fuckin' HUGE!"

	"Awright.  Movie don't start 'til eight-thirty, so we gonna eat
first?" Draper asked.

	"Sounds good.  We can hit Gino's.  I'll line it up."

	"This shit's gonna suck me dry," Draper complained.

	"I'll shoot you some back -- I'm workin' now." Nate replied.

	"No shit?  Any money in it?" Draper asked.  The job market wasn't
anything incredible in the 'hood.

	"Twelve-fifty, plus bennies."

	"Shit, what d'ya hafta do, kill people?"

	"Nah.  It's cool.  Get 'Nisha and I'll tell you about it when you
get here." Nate laughed.

                         --------------------

	It was a tad after seven p.m., and Toby found himself high up in the
back of a movie theater with Erin McGrath.  They'd grabbed burgers, sitting
in the fast food joint and eating while Erin alternately prattled on about
this and that and asked the odd weird question.  Why on Earth would a girl
want to know whether he wore boxers or briefs?  On the other hand, Erin was
(sometimes unintentionally) funny, and she'd been very... approachable --
even doing crazy things like playing footsie, slipping her foot out of her
flip-flop and going after his crotch.  He'd caught her bare ankle in his
hand and tickled her a bit and she'd squealed and gasped and begged...

	Now he was trying the old, 'cop a feel with a hand casually draped
over the back of her seat' gambit.  Frankly, he was glad he'd let her pick
the flick, because he wasn't watching it.  He was wondering how long he
needed to wait before going over her shoulder...  A couple on-screen waxed
romantic, and Erin sighed, settled a bit, and dropped her head on his
shoulder, accelerating his timeline by several minutes.  Should he back off,
or move on?  Decisions, decisions...

	Erin smiled to herself.  She was tempted to reach out and start
playing with his leg and see what his boner was like, but Mary's admonition
to not give up too much for free made sense.  But, Jeez, why was he so slow?

	Toby did the big stretch, and casually draped his hand over Erin's
shoulder, then froze, eyeing her to check for reactions.  Erin CERTAINLY
detected the hand, but she ALSO detected his rigidity -- a sure sign HE knew
what he'd done.  Well, at least things were clear; Toby was working on it --
he was just nervous that she'd go totally bitchy on him, that's all...  Erin
reached up and grabbed the offending hand, toying with his fingers idly and
intertwining hers -- which fucked him ALL up!  Confusion reigned.  Was this
a good thing, or a bad thing?  She'd pretty much deflected him away from her
tit, but she wasn't throwing his hand off and raising Hell, either...
Should he work across with the other hand, then?  Nah -- too obvious...

	Erin then blew Toby's mind by grabbing his wrist and holding it --
effectively placing his hand over her tit!  Jeezus!  'Okay, don't get grabby
-- it's right there...'  Mere relaxation would cup his hand over the
swelling -- she couldn't blame him for that...

	Erin smiled gently.  Mary was right about the vagaries of
protection, and no doubt she was right about playing it cool -- but getting
a boy hooked wasn't so difficult...  Toby was DEFINITELY hooked -- the fact
that he wasn't pushing things despite the opportunities, yet was doing
NOTHING but pay attention to his 'seduction' said she could turn this into a
steady thing by playing her cards properly.  And if Toby was any good, that
would be VERY nice...

	In the meantime, Toby relaxed his hand against the soft cone jutting
from her chest, then held still while the rubbery tip stiffened in his palm.

                         --------------------

	On his return, Paul appeared perfectly calm and in control as he
braced Tabitha with, "You're right -- you need to get seen.  Let's go to
someplace in your neighborhood and have dinner."

	"Awright.  Then?" Tabitha eyed him archly.

	"Then we'll, uh, go to my place and see if we can scratch your
itch."

	"NOW you're talkin', Honey!"  Tabitha collected Paul's arm and
leered up at him.

	"Well, not so fast -- we need to get you into some clothes," Paul
murmured, adding, "and then we'll need to take some precautions.  We're
going to ruin a couple of guys' evening around here, but I just can't be,
uh..."

	"...Pokin' pussy?" Tabitha supplied helpfully.

	"Uh, yeah.  I just can't be doing that here..." Paul finished
lamely.

	Fortunately, someone had been thinking, and a female operative had
chased Tabitha down some clothing -- not down to her usual slutty standards,
but perfectly wearable, nonetheless.  The black brassiere was more or less
the same -- a push-up model -- but the white satin blouse over it covered a
good deal more real estate than usual while still displaying Tabitha's
cleavage.  The dark skirt was a bit longer that Tabitha habitually sported,
and the short stiletto sandals were a good deal lower than Tabitha's
habitual four inch 'fuck me' shoes, but as Tabitha noted, "Hell, I ain't
goin' ta work, am I?"  Panties, however, were something Tabitha was adamant
about.  "I gotta give the poor thing some air!  Gimme some nylons and a
garter belt!"  At the medic's warnings of possible drainage, Tabitha
scoffed, "One o' two colors gonna be runnin' down my leg, Honey -- red or
white -- mebbe both!  Got any pink stockings?"  Even the female operative in
charge of acquiring her wardrobe had thrown up her hands at this; Tabitha
got her stockings and garter belt, but the color was less daunting than
pink.

	Since the supplied makeup kit didn't include eyelash extensions,
sequins, or garish colors, Tabitha looked more publicly presentable than she
had in some time as Paul handed her a small device, "This is a tracker,"
Paul explained.  "Both of us will be wearing them, just in case.  We'll have
a couple of shadows, but they're going to stay out of sight as much as
possible.  I imagine that down your way, I'm going to be a lightning rod for
attention, but we'll just deal with it; getting seen is high on the agenda,
anyway."

	"Where do I put it?"

	"Ummm, on you, somewhere.  Bra strap?  Somewhere comfortable and no
too visible?"

	"Gotta idea."  Tabitha proceeded to ruck up her skirt and attach the
bug to garter belt at the hollow of her right hip.  "How's that?" she asked,
grinning at having thoroughly embarrassed the big man by exposing her
pudenda to him.

	"Well," Paul cleared his throat, "that works pretty well."

	"They ain't gonna hafta listen to my stomach rumble, are they?"
Tabith inquired.

	"Ummm, no.  It's purely a tracker, not a sound bug.  But there IS a
panic button, here."  Paul demonstrated on his bug.  "That'll bring the
cavalry, in short order."

	"Kewl."

	"Ready?"

	"Lead on, Big Boy!"  Tabitha hugged Paul's arm and batted her
eyelashes theatrically.

	As he escorted her to the SUV, Paul asked, "Why do you do that?"

	"What?"

	"Spout all of those clichés?"

	"Well, I get a kick outta embarrassing the shit outta ya for one
thing," Tabitha grinned.  "And girls in my line o' work get used to laying
it on a little thick."

	"You're not working."

	Tabitha was silent a moment.  "Rodday don't need ta know that."

	"That how you want to play it?" Paul asked.  "You're chasing johns
again already?"

	"For Rodday, an' for the girls, yeah.  Higher class work, if I can
pull it off." She eyed Paul as he handed her into the passenger seat, "
'Tween us, though, it's diff'rent.  I'm lookin' ta land yo' big hunky ass."

	"That's subtle."  Paul grinned as he closed the door and circled the
SUV.  "Why still isn't clear."

	"Dunno, myself," Tabitha replied, matter-of-factly.  "If I did, it'd
probly be easier on both 'a us."

	Izzy's Grill wasn't Paul's perfect place; the neighborhood left a
lot to be desired.  But it was the perfect place for Tabitha to get seen;
several colleagues, if not friends, wandered by to say hi and check out
whether she was still in one piece or not.  Tabitha talked shop, groused
about this and that, and even displayed her piercings a couple of times,
usually while hinting broadly that the visitor was interfering with her
efforts to get the big white john with her to pony up for an all-nighter.
In general, the indications that Tabitha was back to work already had their
desired effect, undermining Rodday's little ploy; waving the picture of
Flood & Company displaying their vegetable butt plugs caused a few envious
comments regarding Tabitha's 'insurance' coverage.  At one girl's inquiry as
to whether it was all over yet, Tabitha replied, "I dunno.  Rodday ain't
been hurt personal, yet."  Paul just sat there and pretended the whole thing
was irrelevant to him; when he got the come-on from the competition, he
grinned and offered, "She's famous," as an explanation for why Tabitha held
his interest.

	Rodday got the word fairly quickly.  "Gotta call from Stretch,"
Flood grunted.  "The Adams bitch is out on the street, workin'."

	"Already?" Rodday grunted, surprised.

	"Well, she's hangin' out at Izzy's, talkin' shit, anyway.  Got some
white cop-lookin' bastid with her.  Sez she's puttin' the make on him, but I
bet he's the bodyguard."

	"One white dick?" Rodday wondered aloud.  "Wilson's overconfident."
He pondered a moment.  "Maybe something a bit more traditional is in order.
Take a couple of boys, go through the bodyguard, and break her arm, or
something.  We want her back on the street, but with a long-lasting reminder
-- a cast should do it."

	"Okay, Boss."  Flood picked up a couple of his usual support group
and headed for Izzy's.

	He was sloppy, though.  Paul had made Stretch, wandered off to the
Men's Room and made a phone call.  Scott was on site when Flood arrived,
'Thud' Thompson in tow.  Scott watched the ambush set up in the parking lot
and called Paul, "Flood and a couple of backups are in the parking lot."

	Paul sipped his coffee, washing down a piece of pretty good apple
pie.  "Stretch'll probably play, too.  That's four on three.  Any guns?"

	"Nope."

	"Okay, but one of you hang back in case one comes out."

	"I'll send Thud in to head-bang," Scott agreed.

	"None too gentle," Paul murmured.  "We don't have any cucumbers with
us.  Time they learned."

	"Right."

	"Whazzat?" Tabitha asked, having shut herself of a somewhat shopworn
bleached-blonde colleague.

	"We might get some entertainment," Paul replied.  "You gonna eat
that pie?"

	Tabitha cackled.  "I see you're all worried."  She shoved her plate
at him.  "Why don'tcha feed me a bite?  Heavy on the ice cream."  Paul did
so, then forked some pie into his own mouth while Tabitha asked, "Anythin'
in particular you want me ta do?"

	"Looks like we might dance a little in the parking lot," Paul
murmured dryly.  "I suggest that you sit this one out, but not wander too
far for me to get a hand on, in case somebody has two left feet."

	"Awright.  I seen a tall skinny gink that looked familiar awhile
ago..."

	"I did, too.  He's still around.  Don't worry about it, and don't go
looking for him, but keep an eye out behind us when the shit starts, and if
I don't seem to be paying enough attention, remind me, okay?"

	"Sure, Baby," Tabitha agreed.  "If I was wearin' my 'fuck me' shoes,
I could probly take him, but in these..."  She extended a leg to examine her
open-toed sandals, "I don't think so."

	"Is that why you wear those awful clunky things?" Paul chuckled.
"Because they're lethal weapons?"

	"Nah," Tabitha replied.  "Some damn fool decided they was sexy.
Probly a white boy."  Her eyes laughed.

	Paul grinned back.  "You about finished with that?" he asked nudging
the pie with a fork.

	"Gimme the ice cream.  Y'all can have the pie."

	Paul forked up a big glob of ice cream and poked it toward her face,
deliberately missing a bit, grinning and listening to her squawk while he
finished the pie, then made a production of paying the bill so Stretch could
get the boys set.  He wanted everyone focused on himself and Tabitha, not
glancing around bored and detecting the second team.  He didn't bother
calling Scott; Scott was a pro -- he'd see the others making like hound dogs
and know it was time...  As they hit the door, Tabitha made to take his arm,
and he whispered, "Left side, Darlin'..."

	"Darlin'!  How sweet!" Tabitha simpered and did as she was told as
they turned the corner.  As they approached the SUV, Flood stepped out from
behind and menaced them, attempting to draw Paul's attention as one of his
support people charged around the right side of the vehicle.  It was a
mistake; Paul ignored him, turning to take on the real threat as Thud
Thompson appeared behind Flood and promptly broke his right leg with a well-
placed kick.  Flood screamed, distracting Paul's assailant long enough to
throw off the timing of his swing with a tire iron -- but Paul wasn't there,
anyway.  He stepped back inside as the big hunk of hired muscle passed and
tripped him, turning to engage both him and the third assailant, who was
trying to close while ducking his companion's sprawl.

	Paul tossed Tabitha the truck keys.  "We'll be along in a sec,
Darlin'.  Why don't you listen to the stereo or something?"  Tabitha caught
them and headed for the SUV, prompting a momentary shift of attention in the
attackers.  By then, Thud had arrived and, surprise lost, the odds were
even.

	Scott, eyes scanning the area for further threats, closed on Flood,
kicking his other leg from under him and starting to pat him down, "Hey,
Tabitha."

	"Hey."  Tabitha nodded and climbed into the SUV, turning to sit
where she could view the action.

	Meanwhile, the third assailant, suffering somewhat for his
hesitation when his partner with the tire iron missed his first pass, was
taking a beating while covering his partner's recovery.  Mr. Tire Iron got
up, confident in his superior weaponry, and took another wild swing at Paul,
who sidestepped it and kidney-punched him, jumped back at the wild return
swing, and kicked him in the stomach.  Mr. Tire Iron bent double obligingly,
and Paul clocked him.

	Assailant Number Three tried to rush in and intervene at the tail
end of this, only to be clotheslined by Thud Thompson's left arm.  Thud then
proceeded to break his jaw while putting him down for the count.

	Scott looked up at Stretch, who was hovering in the shadows at the
corner of the restaurant, and said, "You need to tell Rodday that this was
ill-advised."  He took out a taser and shocked Flood into unconsciousness.
"Oh, and get some medical help for your buddies -- there are a couple of
broken bones, here."

	Paul nodded, and added, "Tell him that if he wants to continue to
escalate this, Mr. Wilson is likely to get angry.  Ultimately, he won't be
pleased with the result.  You got that?"  Stretch gulped and nodded.  Paul
got into the truck, and Scott and Thompson faded into the darkness.

	"C'mere, Baby!  You okay?" Tabitha asked as Paul climbed into the
SUV.

	"Scraped knuckles is about it.  Nothing to worry about," Paul
replied.

	"Rodday's a damned fool," Tabitha ranted, releasing fear as anger.
"I might hafta leave town..."

	"Or he might," Paul replied.  "I had him pegged as a faster
learner."  He carefully backed the SUV out around the bodies littering the
parking lot.  "Well, let's go to my place."