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=========
This work is copyright 1989 metlay.
All persons, places and events in this story series are fictional.
=========
                           =====================
                                THE BANDIT
                              by Mike Metlay 
                             atomic@tesser.com


    

     
PART 3: 
Valentine's Day (just after midnight) 
Mid-February 1982 

     The Bandit and Zero kicked the dirty grey snow off of their boots and 
walked up the steps of the East Habitat.  A quick ping of a security card 
in the lock, and the door sighed open, brushing a warm breeze across their 
faces from inside.  They walked out of the dark and into the central 
lounge, gratefully unzipping their coats.  The usual late-night gang was 
there, Thud holding court like a king in the chair by the coffee machine 
and dealing a hand from his everpresent cribbage deck to Lanky and Plaids.  
Conan was sprawled out on the couch, reading a paperback, and the notes of 
an acoustic guitar wafted gently through the air as the Rainbow Wizard 
played a love song for Mary Magdalene on a nearby stretch of carpet.  

     "Hi, Zero, Bandit," Thud said pleasantly.  "Cribbage?" 

     "Nope," Zero smiled.  "Against my faith."  

     "What faith?" Thud sneered at him.  "You're an agnostic, a Crowleyite, 
or worse yet, a Satanist."  

     "True."  Zero collapsed on the couch with a sigh.  

     Thud gave up.  "Bandit?" 

     "No thanks, Thudlike.  I'm on a diet."  

     "Suit yourself.  I'm just worried about how long I can hold onto these 
two.  They just have no stamina!  I mean, we've only played--" 

     "Twenty-one games," Lanky groaned.  

     "Twenty-two," Plaids corrected him.  He got up, stretching, and 
stalked off toward his room.  "I quit."  Lanky took the opportunity to make 
his escape as well, leaving Thud alone, the cribbage hand half dealt to no 
one.  

     "See what you did? Now what am I going to do?" Thud said angrily.  

     The Bandit smiled innocently.  "Play Solitaire."  

     "You're the expert on games one plays alone," Thud replied 
caustically.  

     "Ouch.  I left myself wide open for that," The Bandit laughed.  He 
looked over at Conan, and asked, "Good book?" 

     Conan didn't look up.  "Yup."  

     "What's it about?" 

     "I'm reading it for my Twentieth Century Literature class as an 
elective," Conan said, eyes on the text.  "I think the professor will get a 
kick out of my report."  

     The Bandit leaned over and looked at the book cover.  His wide mouth 
split into a grin.  "Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor?" 

     Conan didn't say a word;  he only looked over at the Bandit and 
winked.  

     Meanwhile, Zero had wandered over to where the Rainbow Wizard was 
finishing another song for Mary Magdalene.  After the song had ended and 
Mary Magdalene was thanking the Rainbow Wizard with a kiss, he cleared his 
throat politely.  "Uh, c'n I borrow that for a moment, Wiz?" 

     "Mmmmmm," the Wizard said, pulling off the guitar awkwardly so as not 
to break the kiss.  He set the guitar down beside him, and threw both arms 
around Mary Magdalene, bearing her down to the carpet on her back.  

     "Thanks," Zero said.  

     "Mmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard said.  

     "Mmmmmm," Mary Magdalene agreed.  "Mmmm.  Mmmmmm, mm mmmm!" 

     "Mmmmmmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard managed with a muffled laugh.  "Mmmm 
mm mmm mmmmmm mm mmmmm mmmmmm, mm mmmmmmm...."  

     The conversation continued in that vein, broken by giggles on 
occasion.  Mary Magdalene rolled the Rainbow Wizard over onto his back, and 
began to slowly rub herself up and down against his thigh.  The others in 
the lounge watched in fascination as her movements grew more and more 
obvious in their intent.  

     Thud gaped.  "Public fornication!  That's DISGUSTING!" 

     Conan laughed quietly to himself.  "Mary Magdalene in heat again? Now 
THAT'S disgusting!" 

     The Bandit looked over at the two lovers cavorting at Zero's feet 
while he nonchalantly tuned the guitar, and found his mouth going dry.  Oh, 
man, he thought.  That lucky bastard.  If only it could have been me....  

     He forced boredom into his voice.  "Here we go again."  

     "No, dear boy," Thud corrected him with a sepulchural grin, "There 
THEY go again.  You, alas, have no place in the matter."  

     "Thanks for nothing."  The Bandit looked away with an effort, picked 
up the cards, and dealt himself a hand of Solotaire.  

     "Remember that playing with oneself is a sin, dear boy," Thud smiled.  

     "I just wish you'd make up your mind, Thud," the Bandit muttered.  
"Either join the Priesthood, or decide you're gay.  But don't sit on the 
fence, you're driving us all crazy!" 

     "I promise I'll make up my mind before I leave school," Thud said with 
a placid, pious smile.  He turned to watch Zero play, and the Bandit risked 
looking in the direction of the two thrashing bodies on the floor to better 
hear the music.  

     Zero was shy by nature, and rarely played in public, but his little 
concerts drew more than their share of gossip.  Every rock band on the 
campus wanted him as a lead guitarist, for his blinding speed and perfect 
articulation had become legendary.  "If Mr.  Spock played guitar," the 
Bandit was fond of saying, "He'd sound like Zero."  Doing his best to 
ignore the moans of Mary Magdalene, who was obviously doing HER best to 
come as quietly as possible on the Rainbow Wizard's thigh, Zero torched his 
way through seven songs in seven minutes, including two famous pop tunes, a 
Villa-Lobos guitar concerto excerpt, two songs by the Bandit, one of his 
own tunes, and just to finish things with a flourish, a raunched-up version 
of one of the Wiz's love ballads.  Thud and the Bandit applauded as he 
bowed and took off the guitar, and Conan tore himself away from the Bitch 
Goddesses of Thamazor long enough to make clapping motions with the 
paperback and his free hand.  Zero, grinning with pride, looked down at the 
people on the floor beside him.  

     His smile died.  The Rainbow Wizard was cradling Mary Magdalene in his 
arms, whispering in her ear as she sighed in the glow of post-orgasmic 
peace and snuggled against his shoulder.  They hadn't even looked at him.  

     Zero looked outraged for the barest fraction of a second.  Then he saw 
the Bandit's wide grin out of the corner of his eye, and smiled sheepishly, 
putting down the guitar next to Mary Magdalene.  

     "That was wonderful!" 

     He looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, low and alluring.  
Every other man in the room turned around as well;  there was something in 
that voice that demanded attention.  

    She was standing behind Zero, carrying a battered old guitar case in 
one hand and brushing her hair back from her eyes with the other.  She was 
small, perhaps five feet two, with the lithe curves of a gymnast ill-
disguised by the flimsy blouse she wore.  The Bandit's gaze flicked over 
her in a practiced instant: tight, well-worn jeans with a patch over the 
crotch, strong legs, light from the window behind her outlining her torso 
through the shirt, and the particular jiggle and barely noticable tenting 
of the fabric that bespoke small, slightly pointed breasts and no bra to 
hide the nipples.  Her eyes were blue and wide like a child's, and her 
freckled face was scrubbed clean of makeup.  She tucked a wayward strand of 
wavy brown hair behind one ear, and continued, "I wish I could play like 
that...."  

    Zero looked into her eyes, and came to an instant decision.  "A lot of 
people do," he said pleasantly, and turned away from her, walking out of 
the lounge.  She watched him go, her eyes puzzled.  

    "Oh, don't mind him," the Bandit said hurriedly, getting up from the 
couch and striding over to her.  "He just gets nervous when people 
compliment him, that's all.  Say, I haven't seen you around here before.  
Did you just move in?" 

    She smiled at him, revealing tiny dimples.  "Yes.  I just transferred 
here from Crystal City.  This is my first semester.  I'm called Flower."  

    "I'll just bet you are," the Bandit grinned.  "And I am the one and 
only Bandit.  At your service, madam!" He took her proffered hand and 
kissed it.  

    She withdrew the hand gently, smiling.  "Pleased," she said.  

    The Bandit's grin grew even wider, if that were possible.  He waved to 
the assemblage in the lounge.  "My merry men," he said.  "Thud, Conan on 
the couch there with the Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor, and, uh, oh, yes!  
These two shameless exhibitionists at your feet are our very own Do-it-
Yourself Messiah, the Rainbow Wizard, and HIS very own Mary Magdalene."  

    "Messiah?" She looked over as the Rainbow Wizard got to his feet, 
drawing up Mary Magdalene beside him with one strong arm around her waist.  
She smiled up at him.  "I've never met a real Messiah before.  Do you work 
miracles?" 

    "When I'm not being trodden down by the unfaithful," the Rainbow Wizard 
smiled, "I can do almost anything.  Welcome to the East Habitat."  He bowed 
to her.  She dimpled prettily and gave him a mock curtsy, and the Bandit 
suddenly felt like the fifth wheel on a Continental: not good for much, and 
hanging on for the ride.  It's that goddamned Wizard thing again, he 
thought disgustedly.  Why the hell does HE have to attract the pretty ones 
all the damn time? 

    Flower turned to Mary Magdalene, and said, "it must be terribly 
exciting, having your own Messiah.  How did you manage to do it?" 

    Mary Magdalene smiled, but there was something in that smile that 
wasn't the orgasm.  "I was," she said archly, "In the right place at the 
right time."  

    There was silence for a few moments as several different thoughts went 
through several different heads.  

    MY tits never look that good without a bra on, Mary Magdalene thought 
worriedly, and how the hell does she keep her hips so slim? It's a good 
thing I know the Wizard, or I'd be really worried....  

    This, thought the Rainbow Wizard, is a woman to get to know better.  

    Nice hair, thought Flower.  Seriously good smile, too.  But she's too 
heavy and she doesn't take care of herself.  And not only does she know it, 
but he knows it, too!  Oh, mama, Crystal City was NOTHING compared to what 
I'm gonna do to Arcadia!  

    Wow, man, serious tit action here, Conan thought.  Wonder if the Wiz'll 
let me tear off a piece once he adds her to his little harem? 

    Thud was watching Mary Magdalene's eyes.  This is going to be very 
ugly, he thought to himself.  I wonder how stable MaryMag is these days? If 
she gets too iffy, then POW!  Catfight!  Break out the body oil and the video 
camera!  

    The Bandit, forgotten in an instant, decided that sterner measures were 
necessary.  "Uh, listen," he said, "We'll be getting together tomorrow to 
do some playing.  Zero and I, I mean.  Would you like to join us?" 

    Flower had obviously come to the conclusion that the Rainbow Wizard was 
more worth knowing than Zero.  "Maybe later," she said, scarcely looking at 
the Bandit.  "I want to play some guitar duets right now."  She looked over 
at the Rainbow Wizard and smiled.  "If you don't mind, that is."  

    "Not at all," he said.  "Will you teach me some new songs?" 

    "If you'll teach me a couple," she replied guilelessly.  

    "Great!  We can take turns playing," Mary Magdalene said brightly.  "I 
love playing duets."  She smiled pleasantly at Flower, her eyes hard as 
flint.  Flower gave her the sort of smile one gives an adorable young child 
who's just brought home a live snake as a pet.  

    "We'll make it a trio, then," the Rainbow Wizard said, fishing in his 
pocket for his room key.  "Why don't you go get my other guitar from my 
room, dear?" 

    "Okay!" Mary Magdalene's desire to please the Wizard overruled her 
suspicions, and she skipped off toward their room.  The Bandit watched her 
go, thinking, too trusting to live.  Jesus!  

    "Well, I guess I'll be leaving," the Bandit said uncomfortably.  "You 
should stop by our place when you get a chance...."  

    "Oh, I'd love to," Flower said hastily, remembering her manners.  "I'd 
love to hear what you and, er, Zero do."  

    The Bandit managed a weak grin.  "Well, we--" 

    "YO!  BANDIT!  HEY, WIZ my MAIN MAN!  Whuss happening, people?" 

    The Bandit winced.  Please, he thought, O merciful God, not now, not 
while there's some faint shred of hope....  

    Livewire threw a corded arm about the Bandit's shoulders and squeezed 
hard enough to dislocate his collarbone.  "Howya DOIN' my MAN!" He caught 
sight of Flower for the first time, and his eyes nearly popped out of his 
head.  "Well, hell-LO there, pretty lady," he said in his best Rhett Butler 
imitation, which was terrible, "I don't believe we've been introduced...."  

    "Flower, this is Livewire.  Livewire, this is Flower.  She's a 
transfer," the Bandit said in a rush.  "Now as I was saying--" 

    Flower gave Livewire the barest nod, and said to the Rainbow Wizard, 
"You have a lot of interesting followers."  

    Any thoughts that the Bandit had in Flower's direction were chopped 
brutally short.  His eyes burned as he whirled to face her.  "You watch 
your mouth, missy," he gritted.  "Livewire's my drummer, and neither he nor 
Zero buys into this crock of shit that old Glow-in-the-Dark here shovels 
out for the faithful.  And what goes for them goes double, triple, for me.  
Understand?" 

    Flower took a half step back from him, her eyes widening fearfully.  
"Don't you talk to me that way," she said feebly.  "I can make mistakes, 
can't I? I thought he was your friend...."  She looked from the Rainbow 
Wizard, who was regarding the Bandit sourly, back to the Bandit again.  

    "He is my friend."  The Bandit's voice was soft.  "I just wish he'd see 
a shrink before he gets somebody hurt."  He turned on his heel and left, 
tossing angrily over his shoulder, "Particularly himself!" 

    "Oo, bad scene," Livewire said, watching him go.  Then he shrugged and 
said to Flower, "But he's right, you know.  This guy is like a TOTAL 
fuckhead.  Thinks he can create trees!" Laughing uproariously, he did a 
back handspring away from them, bounded to his feet and charged off with a 
wave.  "Later!" 

    The Rainbow Wizard smiled and shook his head with the weariness of a 
patient parent.  He said, "It isn't easy, being me."  

    "Awwwww...."  Flower smiled at him, her eyes at once teasing and 
promising.  

    "Awwwww...."  mimicked Conan, his eyes still on the book.  

    Mary Magdalene was walking down the narrow hallway, the guitar case 
bumping against her legs, when the Bandit came striding toward her like a 
juggernaut.  He brushed past her roughly, bumping the case from her hand 
with a jerk.  

    "Hey!" Mary Magdalene's voice carried a lot more ire than people were 
used to hearing from her.  "Why don't you watch where you're going?" 

    "I could say the same for you, sweetheart," the Bandit snarled, not 
even turning around.  "Better get out there in a hurry, or you're going to 
be out of a job."  He slammed the door of his room behind him.  Mary 
Magdalene looked at the shut door, then back down the hall toward the 
lounge.  Her eyes narrowed into cruel slits, and her jaw set into a grim 
line.  She marched down the hallway toward the lounge, rolling up her 
sleeves as she went.  

    The Bandit pulled open the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, opened it 
with his teeth, and downed a third of it in one swig.  He sat down wearily 
on the couch and sighed, running a thumb over his aching teeth.  Why do I 
keep doing that, he wondered wearily.  One of these days I'll break a 
tooth.  

    It's just not goddamned fair!  He reads a book on the theory of miracle 
working, convinces himself and everyone else within earshot that he's got 
something special, and all of a sudden he's up to his eyeballs in devoted 
female followers!  It's enough to make you sick....  I should have been a 
Psych major.  Then I could get into people's heads and make them do 
whatever I wanted them to, just like him!  Bells!  Love songs!  Give me a 
break, for shit's sake!  

    There was a soft knock on the door.  

    The Bandit took another long pull on the beer, finishing the bottle.  
I'm not going to answer it, he decided.  I'm going to sit here very quietly 
and wait for whoever it is to go the fuck away.  Then I'm going to crawl 
into bed and try to sleep while the Wiz is probably conniving BOTH of them 
into bed with him across the room.  What the hell's so special about cum 
that glows in the dark, anyway? Hell, if I'd been irradiated as badly as he 
was, MY cum would probably glow, too!  

    The knock was louder the second time.  

    Go away, the Bandit willed.  Go away and leave me alone.  I don't want 
to be comforted, I don't want pity and understanding.  I just want to be 
left alone.  Please!  

    "Bandit? Please open the door...."  

    The Bandit's eyes went as wide as Frisbees, then contracted shut in 
pain.  No, anyone but her, he begged.  Please? 

    There was a long silence.  

    Finally, with a ragged sigh, the Bandit got up and walked across the 
living room, setting the bottle down with a clank.  He pulled the door 
open, and snapped, "What?" 

    Twink was obviously a bit taken aback by his tone, but she smiled 
tremulously and managed to struggle onward.  "Can I come in?" 

    "If you must," sighed the Bandit.  He motioned for her to enter, and 
she glided past him and sat down demurely on the beanbag chair, her legs 
curled under her.  He resisted the impulse to get another beer, shut the 
door, and returned to his chair.  "So what do you want?" 

    She smiled, the faintest hint of a kiss-me pout on her lips.  "I ran 
into Livewire," she said.  "He told me you'd had a run-in with the Wiz over 
this new transfer kid."  

    The Bandit sighed again.  "I'm just a little bit tired of seeing him do 
the old hoodoo and having women drop their drawers for him," he muttered.  

    Twink frowned slightly.  "Drawers? What kind of drawers?" 

    The Bandit slapped his forehead.  "DRAWERS, Twink!  Panties!  Underwear, 
y'know?" 

    "Oh," Twink said, blushing.  "No, I've never heard that word for them 
before.  Drawers? What a funny word for underwear!  I wonder where it came 
from? Shut up, Twink."  The last three words were spoken in the same 
conversational tone as the rest of her speech, and the Bandit almost missed 
them.  

    He raised an eyebrow.  "'Shut up, Twink'?" 

    "I've started ending all of my sentences with it," she said proudly.  
"It saves time."  

    Somewhere in the Bandit's gut, a small cold something tied itself in a 
knot.  "Aw, Twink, that's a terrible thing to say!" 

    "Well, it's the truth," she replied, shrugging.  "People have been 
telling me to shut up ever since I got here.  I can't ask what the words 
mean in the movies--" 

    "Well, you've gotta admit not knowing the jargon in a movie that's 
rated 'R' is a little bit flaky for a modern teenager," the Bandit said 
drily.  

    "I wasn't raised with it," she said wistfully.  "My mummy and daddy 
never used curse words around the house, and neither did anyone else in the 
school."  

    "I guess you didn't miss much," he smiled.  The knot in his stomach was 
slowly unwinding, and he took a moment to appraise the figure Twink cut 
critically.  She was wearing that awful shapeless nightgown again, the 
polyester one that zipped up to her chin with the little lace collar, and 
furry bunny slippers in matching powder blue.  Bunny slippers, he thought 
to himself.  I mean, really!  

    For a brief moment, he found himself wondering what she would look like 
in real clothes, as opposed to the Godawful things her parents sent with 
her from wherever the hell in North Dakota she'd come from.  All he knew 
was that she was no lightweight, and he wondered just how much fat she was 
hiding under those shapeless sweaters she wore.  For a brief instant, he 
had a brief mental vision of Diva, her heavy breasts and wide hips as 
appealing as a Rubens in their way.  The Bandit had always gone for short, 
willowy girls, but maybe there was something to Zero's taste for ladies 
closer to Diva's size....  He shook his head slightly.  Get real, Bandit.  
You're never going to get closer than ten feet away from Diva, and Twink 
ain't no Diva!  

    "Penny for your thoughts," Twink asked, twirling the tip of her 
nightgown's collar drawstring between her chubby fingers.  The Bandit's 
gorge rose into his throat at her pitiful attempt at flirtatiousness, and 
he suddenly was feeling about as amorous as a retread on the Interstate.  

    "I was thinking," he drawled, "About what an incredible pain in the ass 
some women can be...."  

    "Oh, you mean Flower? Yes, she's a live one, I'll say," Twink smiled.  
For the briefest instant, the Bandit could've sworn that she'd actually 
dodged an insult and delivered a comeback.  Then he realized, as she 
continued talking, that she'd just missed the reference completely.  
Merciful God, he thought, how did a woman like this ever get into college? 

    "I've been talking with her, she lives in my hall.  She's kind of 
weird, always wearing old tiedyes and beads and and talking about how her 
parents used to walk around naked so she wouldn't have any hangups and 
stuff like that.  After I saw Livewire, I decided to breeze through the 
lounge and see what was going on.  I thought it was really pretty funny, 
well, actually kind of sad, to tell the truth, I mean there's the Rainbow 
Wizard playing away, and there's Flower matching him note for note, and 
poor Mary Magdalene struggling along on the chords just to keep up!  
Everyone tells me that the two of them have been together just forever and 
they always will be, but it doesn't seem to me that that's a terribly 
healthy way to go, you know? Shut up, Twink."  

    "Oh, stop that," The Bandit scowled.  He'd heard about enough for one 
night.  Somebody was leaving.  Soon!  

    "Why?" Twink smiled at him again, standing up and stretching.  "Do you 
have something better for me to do?" 

    Oh, Lord God, the Bandit thought.  That's the last straw!  

    He was on his feet in an instant, pulling open the door to the room he 
shared with Zero.  It was empty;  Zero had already gone to Diva's for the 
night.  He strode inside, growling, "Leave, Twink.  Just...leave.  Shut the 
door on your way out."  

    He reached behind him to shut the door but Twink was there, pulling it 
shut behind her.  "Are you sure you want me to leave, so soon?" Her voice 
was low and liquid, teasing.  

    The Bandit wasn't having any of it, tonight, though.  A woman like 
Flower ending up on the Wiz's hit list, and Twink, for God's sake, TWINK as 
a consolation prize? No, Goddammit, NO!  

    He whirled on her and hissed, "I have had enough of your stupid 
insinuations and your ridiculaous attempts at flirting!  You're making a 
complete and utter fool of yourself, and you're not impressing anyone!  You 
love the attention I give you and you have absolutely no intention of 
following through on ANY of your little hints, so why don't you just put up 
or shut up!" 

    Twink stared at him, her eyes wide and bright.  He returned her stare, 
his eyes burning black in the dimlight through the Venetian blinds.  

    Then, quite suddenly, she smiled.  

    "All right," she whispered.  

    And in a single smooth motion, she unzipped her nightgown from her 
collar to her waist and let it fall to the floor.  

    The Bandit, master of the quick comeback, the left-handed compliment, 
and the subtle jab, the most dangerous verbal assassin in Arcadia, dimly 
heard his higher reasoning faculties shut down.  His blood roared in his 
ears and he barely registered the fact that she was stepping forward and 
putting her soft arms about his neck.  Instinctively his hands came up and 
grasped her waist, and her soft lips met his as the last remnants of his 
reasoning abilities surrendered with a fading crackle of static.  Her lips 
were gentle, soft, and caressing, and she broke the kiss after a moment and 
held him tightly, whispering in his ear, "You're trembling.  What's the 
matter?" 

    "Oh, God, Twink," he managed to get out somehow.  "You mustn't.  I 
treat you like dirt!  Worse than dirt!  You deserve better than me, for God's 
sake, find yourself someone who'll give you a fair shake, don't do this--" 

    She placed a cool fingertip on his lips.  "Shut up, Bandit," she said 
in a tone of mock sternness.  She giggled at the turnabout, and he found 
himself laughing with her.  Suddenly, with a roar of released emotion, he 
threw his arms around her waist and hugged her as hard as he could.  She 
squealed as he lifted her up off the ground, thought better of it, and 
quickly set her down again.  She met his gaze, her eyes mischevious, and 
suddenly lowered her arms to encircle his waist.  His breath whooshed out 
of him as she returned the lift, laughing.  She set him down on his feet 
again, giggling, "You shouldn't hurt yourself.  I'm a pretty big girl!" 

    "No kidding," he whispered reverently, stepping back a pace to admire 
her.  In all of my life, he thought, I have never dreamed that someone like 
this could exist outside of Playboy.  I was right, Twink's no Diva.  Poor 
Zero, stuck with Diva....  

    She wasn't a classic beauty by any means, but her body was the stuff of 
Bandit's dreams.  She was ever so slightly overweight, just enough to give 
a softness to her joints and her lines, smoothing away the angles of bone 
beneath the skin.  Her oval face and long, aristocratic neck swept 
uninterrupted into gently sloping shoulders, strong arms, and the most 
beautiful breasts the Bandit had ever seen.  He'd only really slept with a 
couple of women in his life, and all of them had been, by choice or chance, 
short and slender, with tiny A-cup breasts that suited their small frames.  
In that instant, at his first sight of a woman with an average-sized 
bustline, the Bandit became a lifelong and firmly committed breast man.  

    "You're beautiful," he moaned, fingering her swelling nipples in 
disbelief.  Twink's breasts weren't unduly large, but her nipples were 
something to see.  As she sighed at his touch, they grew and swelled to the 
size of pencil erasers.  He let his hands slide down her wide, flaring 
ribcage, and across her her washboard-flat stomach, pausing for a moment 
with his thumb in her navel and one questing finger curling about a tendril 
of downy, honey-blonde hair.  "You're also a natural blonde," he noted with 
a grin, his sense of humor slowly returning.  

    "Of course," Twink giggled.  She reached up and began to undo the 
buttons of his shirt, whispering, "I want to see you naked, Bandit...."  

    Suddenly he gripped her hands with his, looking hard into her eyes.  
"Twink," he said, "You don't have to do this.  I don't know why you picked 
me, but I'm giving you the chance to back out now, before we go any 
further."  

    She smiled up at him, her eyes bright with tears and her smile almost 
aglow.  "I picked you," she whispered, "Because I love you.  I forgive you 
the way you've treated me in the past, because I know you were all broken 
up over Teenie and how she dumped you.  I want you, and I'd like for you to 
learn to love me, but all I really want to ask for are two things.  Will 
you promise them to me?" 

    He frowned.  "I will, if I honestly can."  

    "Okay.  First, will you be a litle nicer to me from now on?" Her gaze 
was wistful, and so full of pain that that the Bandit had to swallow to 
keep from crying.  

    He shook his head.  "I can't promise you that, not until I get to know 
you better.  You and I need to talk, really talk, to one another, and right 
now I'm in no condition to make conversation.  But I will promise to give 
you the common courtesy I've maybe been denying you, and to help you learn 
to defend yourself a little better when people start picking on you...."  

    "I'll settle for that, for a start," Twink whispered, a tear rolling 
down one cheek.  

    "Hey, hey, don't cry.  I want to see you laugh!" He smiled 
encouragingly at her, then on a sudden impulse tried tickling her ribs.  
She pulled away with a sharp laugh, and wiped her eyes.  He found himself 
staring at her again, entranced by the way her breasts swung as she moved.  

    She smiled and slipped her arms around his neck, and whispered into his 
lips, "My second request is as follows.  If I were to tell you that I want 
to stay a virgin, would you be upset?" 

    "Not at all," the Bandit said instantly.  "It's your body, you have the 
right to control what happens to it."  And to his surprise, he realized 
that he meant it.  Mom, you raised me right, he thought to himself, but the 
fact that there's so much else of her to enjoy is gonna make keeping this 
promise a lot easier!  

    "Thanks," she breathed, starting to unbutton his shirt again.  "Now, 
where were we?" She peeled the shirt back from his chest, and leaned 
forward to kiss his nipples as she pulled the sleeves off of his arms.  She 
dropped to her knees before him on Zero's Persian rug, and giggled as she 
hastily undid his belt and the snap of his jeans.  Slowly, tantalizingly, 
she lowered his zipper and pulled his pants down to his knees.  His 
underwear, bulging and already stained, were next, and she laughed as his 
penis sprang free and gently swatted her on the cheek, leaving a sticky 
stain.  She reached up and grasped it with both hands, stroking it gently.  
She looked up at him, and said, "You'll have to excuse me if I'm a little 
awkward at this, I've only done it once before."  She frowned at the 
memory.  The Bandit caught the frown.  

    "Really," he said, "With who? Anyone I know?" 

    She released his penis.  "Conan," she whispered.  

    The Bandit stared aghast at her.  "CO--WHY, for God's sake?" 

    Her eyes filled with tears.  "It seemed like the only way I could get 
close to you was to get in with one of your friends...."  

    "Oh, Twink...."  The Bandit's erection wilted.  He dropped to his knees 
and held her tightly as she began to cry.  

    "He, he stuck it in my mouth and started pushing it in and, and out," 
Twink sobbed, "And I, I wanted to run away but I was afraid he'd stop me 
and maybe if I made him feel good he wouldn't, wouldn't...."  She broke 
down.  

    The Bandit rocked her in his arms, tears in his eyes.  "That son of a 
bitch," he whispered.  "That dirty son of a bitch, I'll kill him!" 

    "NO!" She looked up at him and grasped the sides of his face with both 
hands.  "I don't ever want you to mention any of this to anyone.  He's 
never tried anything since, and I just want to put it behind me.  I don't 
want to forget that it happened.  But I do want to forget enough of the 
hurt so I won't go through the rest of my life afraid...."  She sniffled a 
bit.  

    "Twinkles, how the hell'd I ever underestimate you? You're braver and 
more mature than anyone I know!" A tear rolled down the Bandit's face.  

    "Oh, I love you...."  She hugged him hard.  After a long moment, they 
heaved a simultaneous sigh, and helped each other up.  Twink giggled as the 
Bandit waddled comically over to the bed and sat down, his pants still 
around his ankles.  "Gotta get these shoes off before I kill myself," he 
laughed.  

    He quickly undid the laces and divested himself of shoes, socks, and 
pants, as Twink came over and sat down on the bed beside him.  She started 
at the scratchiness of the blanket on her bare bottom.  "Hey, this is wool!  
No wonder you're never cold at night," she marveled, running a hand over 
the expanse of blanket.  "It's beautiful."  

    "You're beautiful, too," he whispered, running a hand down the 
exquisite curve of her spine and watching her arch her back in pleasure 
like a cat.  "And tonight, you won't be cold."  

    Twink looked up at him, her expression suddenly pensive.  "It's funny," 
she said softly.  "I've never spent the night with anyone before."  

    "That's okay," he smiled, running a hand through her long golden hair.  
"You can get used to it really easily."  He drew back the covers, saying, 
"Hey, I just had a thought.  Let's just sleep together tonight, nothing 
else.  It'll give us a chance to get to know one another better, with no 
pressure."  

    "Are you sure?" Twink looked askance at his penis, which was already 
erect again.  "I don't want to leave you like that.  Won't you burst?" 

    "Wha-at? No, of course not!  You really do have a lot to learn, don't 
you?" The Bandit grinned at her crestfallen expression.  "Come into bed."  

     She smiled uncertainly, and slid under the covers beside him.  The 
Bandit sighed as Twink spread her warm body out over his like a blanket and 
cuddled against him with a happy smile.  She's kinda heavy, he noted, but 
as long as she doesn't stop my breathing I guess I don't mind....  

     One of her hands, wandering down his belly, found and gently held his 
penis.  "Good night, my love," she whispered.  

     "Good night, Twink," he replied, kissing her hair.  

                           =====================
                                THE BANDIT
                              by Mike Metlay 
                                  Part 3
                                   -30-


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