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Tuck And Sired -*- Copyright 2008 by Ellen Hayes.

Any resemblance between the writings in this work, and any actual
persons or places, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except when
used for satirical purposes.

This work contains adult situations, adult language, adult concepts, and
possibly sex.  If you are legally not allowed to read materials
containing such things, then you will be breaking the law by reading
this.  I am not responsible.
Continuing to read this document, or storing it or reproducing it
in any format means that you explicitly affirm that you are legally
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state, and country.

All rights reserved.  See the bottom for distribution rights.


Tuck And Sired


***
15:06 17 Nov

     "Hey!" Ricky said as he got into the car.  "How are you?"
     "Huh?"
     He impatiently poked himself in the side several places, at me.
"What happened Friday night at bowling?  Are you okay?"
     "Oh!  Yeah, that."  He was pointing where I'd been apparently
injured, I belatedly realized.  "Yeah, I'm okay now.  Actually, I
would've been okay then, just as long as I didn't try doing any
bowling."
     "Oh."  He belatedly shut the door and strapped himself in; and then
I had to try and get out of the afterschool frenzy without damage.  I
didn't know exactly what a new Mercedes 500SEL fender or bumper cost,
but I suspected it was a lot more than my car was worth.

***
15:09 17 Nov

     "Did you like it?"
     "Huh?"  *Did I like getting cut off by some fucking bus who timed
things so I'd personally get stuck at the red light I couldn't see
because of-*  "Oh, bowling?"
     "Duh!"
     "Um...  No, I didn't; it hurt," I pointed out.
     "BESIDES that," he complained.
     "I dunno!  I can tell you this much though; sitting there and doing
the scoring is not the way to have lots of fun there."  Well, I guess I
did know; and it was 'no'.  "Do you think you might want to go again?" I
asked, hoping this was also 'no'.
     "I dunno...  What do you like to do on like Friday nights and
things?"
     I snorted.  "Uh, well, Saturday, I went out to the ballet..."  He
made a face, which did not surprise me in the least.  "So some of it
you'd HATE," I told him.
     "Do you ever do anything FUN though?"
     I had this urge to slap- well, punch him in the head a few times
because the angle was wrong for slapping, and then expose him to the
glories of the last three or four centuries of Western music; and then
hand his battered brain over to Pam, for dance appreciation, and then
Julia, for theatre appreciation (you had to spell it the British way for
this application), and then I'd see who else I could find.  Maybe Mike
for the Eastern, though he really had very little experience of the
actual arts except anime.
     I just said, "_I_ thought it was fun to go to the ballet."
     He humphed and turned away from me and mumbled something under his
breath, which I carefully didn't catch.

***
15:14 17 Nov

     The idea also occurred to me, that I could 'accidentally' douse the
two of them in gasoline from the pump and then somehow arrange an
ignition event.  But that would undoubtedly get me into severe trouble.
*Though maybe skip the burning part, use it as a THREAT...*  That might
work.  On Ricky, at least.
     The gas handle thunked at me, notifying me that the pump was once
again trying to give up prematurely.  "FILL D-  You!"

***
16:17 17 Nov

     I thought about calling Jack, but decided I didn't want him to have
this number, just in case he had Caller ID.
     As if I'd summoned him, the phone rang.
     "Ahh!" I mentioned, which caused Stella to make pre-detonation
noises, but I managed to calm her down as I checked the Caller ID box.
Luckily, it was Mike; I hadn't accidentally been telepathic or
precognitive or something.
     And, since it was Mike, I picked the phone up, put it down on the
table, and then calmed Stella down; he should be able to hear it, and
figure out why I wasn't talking to him at the moment.

***
16:19 17 Nov

     "Wednesday," Mike said, "is the day you're taking off for health
and recuperation reas-"
     "What the-"  I managed to shut myself off before I screamed the
word 'fuck' at the top of my lungs, but Stella still detonated in my
arms.  "Call you back!" I said to the phone, loud enough I hoped, and
hung up on his chink ass.  I had to breathe for a while, and not look at
Stella as I cuddled her, but I finally got myself under control.  "He IS
a jerk, isn't he?" I asked her rhetorically.

***
16:26 17 Nov

     "Why are you doing this to me?" I asked immediately, after I called
back, after I'd locked Stella into her crate, after I'd calmed her down.
Ricky was now earning off a buck or so of his debt by keeping his sister
from being assassinated while I tried to deal with Mike.
     "Because you need more rest and sleep than you've been getting.
You fuckwit," Mike complained.  "I thought if you were skipping
breakfast Sunday that you'd be sleeping, an-"
     "I WAS!  I slept like ten hours!"
     "You what?"
     "Ask Pam, she was there," I sneered at him, because apparently he
hadn't checked his facts.  Except I hadn't told him this before or
something.  Er.  *Oh, fuck it.*
     "How much did you sleep last night?"
     "Fuck OFF!"
     "Tuck, if you don't get some down time to sleep and-"
     "I'm fine!"
     "You're a liar, AND THE OTHER THING," he yelled, or maybe he'd
attached an amp to his phone mike, "is, you need some downtime.  Not
work, or school, or social shit, or cooking, or trying to sleep."
     "I do that in the mornings!"
     "When you should be sleeping," he finished my thought, which I wish
I'd finished thinking before I said it, so I wouldn't have said it.  "I
called your dad, and he called your Mom and Doc Treble, an-"
     "You-"  I choked at that point.
     "-And Dobson," he repeated.  "And I called Debbie.  And everyone's
agreed.  Wednesday, you show up for cosmetology class, and then you get
your ass home, or you will - and he'll do it too - you WILL be
suspended for the day."
     "Gahkk!"  I was incoherent.
     "Because I'll get in a fight with you at homeroom, or if you skip
that you'll get busted for skipping.  And if I have to get in a fight
with you, I get to go home too, heheheheheh," he added.
     I carefully hung up the phone, then managed to unplug it without
accidentally ripping it out and throwing it through a wall.

***
16:43 17 Nov

     I was sort of beyond pissed that I'd had the beginning ghost of an
asthma attack while kicking the shit out of the Parker's fence, and so
had to come back inside and gas myself.  Plus my feet hurt.  As did my
hands.  And ribs.  And elbows, though they were comparatively weak, or
at least low-endurance.

***
16:51 17 Nov

     "Hello, this is Debbie.  I'm not available right now, so please
leave your message and number and I'll call you back ASAP."
     "This is-  This is Valerie."  I'd almost said 'Tuck'.  "This
Wednesday, I am going to pick up the Parker kids, at the usual time, and
if I find someone else has done that I'm going to hunt them down and
kill them.  If you want to fire me, fire me, but don't go behind my back
like this.  No matter what Mike tells you.  Out."
     When I hung up, Ricky was right there.  "They don't want you to
come Wednesday?"
     "They want me to stay home and take a nap or something," I sighed.
     "What about school?"
     "They want me to skip that too."
     "Oh cool!"
     "W-"
     "And then you can come over here in the morning and we can do stuff
like all day!"
     There was a flaw in his plan.  Unfortunately.  But I sort of hated
to break it to him.  "Um, Ricky..."

***
16:54 17 Nov

     Ricky had had to go to his room for a while, because he REALLY
hadn't wanted this particular bubble to get burst.  But I'd popped it
anyway, because I doubted Mike thought he'd be restful.  Besides, he
might want to go bowling again.  "Maybe HE should do homeschooling.  You
think?"
     "No!"
     "And then you could teach him things, right?"
     "Noo-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
     "'Zactly," I nodded at her.
     "No!" Stella said sharply, but sort of grinning at me, like 'Are
you gonna keep playing?'
     "And then you could teach him how to say things, right?"
     "NOOOOOOOO!"
     I was glad I didn't wear glasses; they might have shattered.  "And
he could teach you to be quiet, right?"
     "NOOOOO!"
     Well, I'd known what that answer was going to be.

***
17:06 17 Nov

     "Just slit your throat right there, and put in a quick-lock
fitting, with a valve, an-"  She spat lamb goo at me, again, which is
why I was thinking about alternate feeding methods.
     The doorbell rang, and Stella and I looked at each other.
     "Nuf?" Hangover said, and I looked at him in time to catch him
looking at me.  'I could get that except I don't have hands, so you do
it,' he said.
     "You're just lazy."
     'You say that like it's a bad thing?'
     "Foo bee!" Stella said, and gestured at her mouth.
     "Right, right..."  If it was important, they'd come back around
seven when people were home.  I stuck the spoon in the jar of warm lamb
goo and collected a gob, then inserted it into what I'd been assured was
the correct orifice.  She swallowed, amen.
     The doorbell rang again.  Hangover said "Nuff," again, and ambled
off to go see what was going on.
     "No!" Stella complained, and banged both hands on her tray for
emphasis.  I was very glad Miz Parker was supplying towels, and not
complaining about how I used at least one a day.
     "Don't talk with your mouth full," I mentioned, just as a formality
because it certainly wasn't going to do any good.
     I got in a spoonful, which went down, and was trying for two in a
row when the phone rang.
     "Noooooooo!" Stella complained as she turned to look at the phone,
which was mine, not the Parkers'.  And sprayed lamb goo in an impressive
arc as she did.
     "D-d-d-d-d-sh-"  I couldn't get anything out by the second ring.
"I hate you," I said to everyone as I started to switch seats, noticed
the goo had made it to this seat too, and started to wipe it off the
seat before I decided to hell with it and looked at the Caller ID box.
     I didn't recognize the number.
     The doorbell rang a third time.
     "Someone is gonna die today," I decided.
     "No!"
     "Don't try to talk m-"  The phone rang a fourth time.  "Oh god I
hate you hello?"
     "Val, it's Debbie, I'm outside the Parkers, could you answer the
door please?  It's cold."
     "Wh-"  I looked towards the front of the house, which I couldn't
see from here, and then looked at my pack.  "Okay.  I was feeding
Stella," I explained.
     "Okay, if you can let me in you can go back to doing that.  I need
to talk to you about work for a minute or two," she said, which made me
twitch.
     *But if it's work... she's been professional about work.  It's just
biz.  It's just biz.*  "Okay, bye," and hung up before she could.  *It's
just biz.*
     I got my knife out and clipped it to my bra anyway.  It made me
feel better.  A little.
     I managed to get Stella unstrapped - because she might tip the
chair over if I wasn't there stepping on the lower rungs occasionally,
and brain damage from a fall like that would probably make her worse -
and to the front door by repeating that.
     I did check the peephole in the hopes that I could tell if anyone
else was outside waiting; but I couldn't tell.  I could identify Debbie.
*I want my pistol!* I wailed inside, because I did, but I opened the
door.
     "Come on, it's cold," she said as she advanced on me.  I backed
away and she walked in, not stabbing me or shooting me or anything, so I
made sure there was no one else coming in behind her - there wasn't  -
and shut the door, because it WAS cold.  "What happ-  Are you feeding
her or throwing it at her?"
     "Wh-  Oh.  I'M feeding her; SHE's throwing it EVERYWHERE."
     "Oh god," Debbie sighed.
     "Habarana da mo tabalaaaaa," Stella said before she discovered her
tongue and mouth, again.  "AaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaa-aaaa-
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-"
     When she took a breath, I offered, "Earplugs?" since I'd restocked
myself on Sunday.
     "-Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa-yaaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooooooooooooo-"
     Debbie nodded, looking pained.
     *Except-*  "Hey, do you have any more of those makeup remover
wipes?" I yelled over Stella.  I hadn't been able to find those on
Sunday before I got chased out of the makeup section by what seemed like
three hundred junior-high girls swirling around like a flock of
sparrows.
     "Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya..."
     'See I knew this was going to happen...'

***
17:19 17 Nov

     I shut the door behind Debbie, sighed, and locked it, because I
didn't want her coming back in.  I was taking Wednesday off, and she was
going to give me or Sabrina a couple of boxes of wipes and bill me for
them, and I'd agreed to get a haircut next week.  I'd managed to get rid
of her before I signed anything, though.
     I sighed.
     "Nabaraaanana," Stella commented as she fought to try and make me
drop her.
     "I've got a better idea," I told her.  "How about we clean you off
and then we can play, hmm?"
     She screamed in rage, either at the idea of waiting or the idea of
being cleaned, and fought harder.

***
19:33 17 Nov

     "Hello?"
     "Mike?  Tuck.  I need to beat the crap out of someone."  I'd
managed to be polite to the adult Parkers as they got home - Miz Parker
arriving unusually late today, but with a haul of groceries - but the
strain was getting to me.  Plus I'd been afraid I'd find pie makings
lurking.
     "Who ees dees?" he said in a bad accent.
     "Half an hour."
     "Your house," he said in a normal voice, before he hung up.
     *Good, that means I don't have to chase him.*  Which I could, but
cold air did bad things to my asthma so I'd have to carry things, which
would slow me down.

***
20:10 17 Nov

     Mike's car was out front, which suggested he was either here, or
being very clever indeed in tricking me.  I hoped for his sake he was
here, because the more trickery I had to wade through to pound on him,
the more I was gonna hurt him.
     I parked on the driveway in my spot, shut off the car, got out with
the laptop case, and then went to the trunk and got out my harness with
the oxy bottle on it and my pack.
     "Ah, Tuck-san," Mike said.  I looked up, and he'd come out.  "I had
a better idea."
     "Than what?"
     "Than you trying to hit me or kick me."
     "Fu-"
     "Ribs," he mentioned.
     I thought about it.  Then I got myself clear of the car, balanced,
and tried a high kick.  "Nahhh," I commented as I grabbed my side, which
suddenly hurt a lot.
     "I had a better idea," he reiterated.

***
20:32 17 Nov

     "What are you doing?!"
     "Knock it off," Mike called, so I backed away from the punching bag
before it could hit me back.  It was bigger than me, after all.  "Oh,
just one of those guy bonding things."
     Sabrina, standing on the basement steps, looked skeptical.  "I
thought you were having a real fight."
     "That's a guy bonding thing," Mike assured her as he nodded.
     "Yeah like fer shur!" I chirped at her.
     She just gave us a look - well, maybe that was aimed at me - and
then turned around, before Mike tried to slap me in the head.  I dodged,
which hurt, possibly more than the head slap would've, but at least HE
didn't connect.  When I looked again Sabrina was gone.
     "Back to the bag, roundeye!"
     "Fuck you GOOK!" I cursed and punched the surrogate Mike/Debbie/
everyone in the face, aiming for a broken nose, then followed with an
elbow strike and a sidestep to miss the bag recoil, then I punched it on
the side, moved back...

***
20:50 17 Nov

     The armor gave me support over my ribs from external impact, but
that didn't seem to do a damned thing about internal stretching.  Or
tearing, or whatever.  I thought about putting some nails through the
metal and into the ribs, to stabilize things, but decided that it would
be too much work.  At least I could make stomps, and low kicks to the
bottom of the bag.  Higher would be better, but I could still take out a
knee in combat.
     "Feel better?" Mike asked.
     "I hate you.  I hate all your kind, you fucking slant-eyed gook.  I
hate your country, I hate your government - all of them, I hate your
language, I HATE your writing system," because ideographs were just
stupid for a technical civilization, "and I hate your geography too.
And your art.  And your music."
     When it was obvious I'd run out of things to hate, he asked, "So
you wanna go upstairs?"
     "Yeah, I guess..."  I was pretty tired, now that I thought about
it.
     "How's your ribs?"
     "Fuck off."  They hurt.  "Ow."

***
20:52 17 Nov

     "Because I get really tired of people telling me what I have to do,
what I'm GOING to do, and Mike called me up and told- TOLD me," I
emphasized, "that I'm taking Wednesday off.  And then he sicced Debbie
on me."
     "So you're taking Wednesday off," Sabrina nodded.
     "Ye-  FUCK you!"
     "Eugene," Dad warned, as Sabrina just grinned.
     "Amazing how she can talk you into doing something you want to do
anyway, isn't it?" Sabrina asked, I think rhetorically.
     "No!  I didn't want to take the day off!"
     "Then why did you agree to it?"

***
20:55 17 Nov

     "Because if I take enough of these," shaking one out into my hand,
"you all go away."  Not that I knew that for sure; it was just a fond
hope.  Well, if I took enough I'd go into a coma, but that would just
make everything much much worse.
     "You really need-  What is that anyway?" Mike asked, predictably
enough at the instant I had water actually in my mouth.
     I threw the pill bottle at him, then realized I could do the same
thing with the water, but before I could decide if there were any vital
electronics in the splash zone behind him, he handed the bottle back.
"You really need one?"
     "I'd like one.  It hurts," I mentioned after I'd swallowed.
     "Like how bad?"
     "Like...  Like I'm continually sore, and it hurts more when I move
anything attached to the broken ribs, which is most every motion I make.
Not like a- not like I rebroke them or something," I said as he started
motioning me to undress, so he could check them himself.  It was still
too cold in here to do that at the moment.  "Like, haha, I haven't been
using the muscles much recently.  Or something like that."
     "Are you stretching and stuff?"
     "Not those."
     "What are you stretching, then?"
     In lieu of attempting to hit him, I decided to show him; the pants
I had on were wide-crotched enough.  So I pulled them up high before I
dropped to the floor and then spread my legs apart while holding myself
off the ground with my hands, one front one back.
     "Gahhhhhh, STOP IT," he ordered as he hid his eyes and turned away
and bent over slightly, as if to protect his own groin from what I was
doing.  He didn't quite grab himself, but I think he wanted to.
     I felt better.  "See, though?"
     He refused to look, while complaining bitterly, which made me feel
better still.

***
21:02 17 Nov

     "I can't believe you two were doing that," Sabrina mentioned.
She'd come up to my room - after I stopped splitting Mike's brain - and
now we were trying to find three places to sit.  Apparently not
screaming at her downstairs but leaving instead had been the correct
decision; I bet that if I'd said what I wanted to say, she wouldn't have
come up here.  Maybe ever again.
     "Why not?"
     "It's such a guy thing," she said disgustedly.
     Before I could say anything, Mike said, "Tuck has pretentions in
that direction," which was funny enough that I didn't yell at Sabrina.
     She looked at me for confirmation.
     "I really don't like people telling me what I need," I told her,
because that was more it than being told what to do.  I'd figured that
out during one of the pauses.
     "So if he needs it," Mike amplified, "I tell him, he has a hissy
fit, and he wants to beat me up, except he can't catch me now with his
remaining injuries, so he needs a substitute, and..."  He shrugged as I
hit his leg, which was all I could reach.  "It's good exercise, anyway."
     "Beats calisthenics," I agreed.  Most everything did, of course,
except team sports.
     "He also really resents it when someone tells him the obvious, when
he's been trying to ignore it," Mike said.
     "Hey!"
     "How much rest does a human need at this stage of life?" Mike
asked, I think rhetorically.  "Never mind, I'm too tired," he said,
waving his hand like he was erasing the question.
     Pause.
     "So did you get any pie to take home?" Mike asked Sabrina.
     "Hey!"  If I hurried...

***
21:05 17 Nov

     I was a little annoyed that Sabrina had been gifted with another
slice while she was here; and I was definitely annoyed that Mike helped
himself to one while I was getting one for me, because I KNEW he'd taken
some home.  But I wasn't annoyed enough to, say, chase him out into the
yard and beat on him again.  My ribs suggested that was a bad idea.
     "They were really good," Sabrina said.
     "Which ones did you have?"
     "I had a slice of each one," she grinned.  "Though I only got the
mincemeat pie tonight."
     "Oy," I said, because I'd been afraid Mom would make me grind the
meat for that.  Luckily, I'd already done that in the past, and Brian
hadn't, so he got the job while I was mostly out.  He had complained, a
LOT, but who listened to him?  Not me.  Because, I had complained that
no one made 'mincemeat' pies out of meat any more, AND I had complained
that there was perfectly good ground beef available for cheap; and no
one had listened to me either.  I had to admit, though, it did taste
a lot better Mom's way.
     "So are you-"
     "We have to boil the kitchen next weekend," I interrupted Mike.
"Sunday afternoon.  So no, I'm not cooking next weekend.  Or the weekend
after, which is Thanksgiving," I reminded everyone.  "They'll still be
here."  Or they might be if offered more food, like if I was required to
cook for them, the ungrateful assholes.
     "What if you sort of couldn't remember your way home to your
house," Mike mused, "and you stayed at my place for a couple of days?"
     I knew where he was going with this.  "I'd have to take some stuff
with me from the kitchen, and then they'd know it was deliberate.  And
if I take off with unauthorized kitchen equipment..."  I drew a finger
across my throat, which was actually much quieter and faster than what
Mom would do if I was ever that stupid again.
     "What about Wednesday?" Sabrina smiled.
     "NO," Mike stated before I could think of anything.  "Tuck needs to
take the day OFF.  No cooking, no school, no sitting, no nothing."  He
glared at me.  "Next step, you get sedated; wanna bet I can't talk Doc
Treble into it?"
     "Damnit!"
     "No, look, he's right," she said unexpectedly.  "You really could
use some rest.  You haven't looked quite right since..."
     "Since you got the shit beat out of you and your heart stopped and
they had to cut your chest open to repair the broken rib and the damage
to your lung, and the concussion and the skull fracture, an-"
     "Shut UP!" I complained at Mike.  "It only hurts when I remember
it."
     Sabrina was still sort of looking amazed at Mike.  "You are such an
asshole!"
     "Tuck has a tendency to forget what happened, and why he needs to
take it easy, and so on," Mike pontificated at her.
     "I didn't-"
     "So you'll take your day of rest, right?" he pushed me.
     "Yeah..."  I'd already promised Debbie, and then everything else
was already set up.
     And I was tired.  And I hurt.
     "Eat your pie," Mike suggested.
     "Eat your pie," Sabrina smiled at me.  "It's very good."
     I looked at it, because suddenly I was almost too tired to eat it,
but a spark of, not appetite, but 'I'd better eat it before anyone else
does,' made me fork some into my mouth.  Greed, I guess.
     It was tasty enough that I wanted another bite.
     "So what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?" Mike asked Sabrina.

***
21:11 17 Nov

     The pie had revived my interest in food, so I was now reheating
some of the leftover plates Mom had been saving.  I had been glad to see
that Brian, I guessed, had done all that remained of Sunday night's
cleanup; there had been a lot, and the more got washed now, the less
there would be this weekend.

***
21:59 17 Nov

     Freshly kissed (Sabrina and Mom, both on my cheek) and hugged (Dad)
and generally well-wished (Mike and Brian) and -washed (me), I was now
going to get some of that sleep everyone thought I should have.

***
01:17 18 Nov

     "Fuckers!  Fuckers!  Fuckers!"  *Just a dream.  Just a dream.  JUST
a dream.  Had to be a dream.*
     It wasn't helping.  I'd made it into the attic before I woke up
this time, and while I knew it was insanely unlikely that anyone hostile
would be in my bedroom - I mean, I should be dead by now, if that was
the case, because I HAD been asleep - I still couldn't go back down.

***
01:20 18 Nov

     I had just intended to touch some iron, like some guy in a book I'd
read once; but as soon as I opened the locker, the basement lights went
out and the gong noises played over the speakers as the house went to
General Quarters.
     *This is new,* I thought in a daze, before I had three sudden
realizations, all in a row: *What if it was THEM?  That's bullshit, it
was just a dream.  Yeah but.*  All in an instant.
     And then I was scrabbling for my war gear and into it, no radio or
anything just hanging the harness on me, then the Springfield and loaded
it and racked it and holstered it and then I went after the 870 and
grabbed that but didn't cock it yet, and crouched down and put it on the
floor so I could do up my harness and everything else I'd skipped.
     When I had that done, everything was really quiet.  I moved, very
cautiously, towards the locker keypad, slowly - and VERY quietly -
opened the door, and keyed in a special three-digit number.  A red LED
came on, steady, which said I'd done it right; 'armed at this location'.
     I was about to shut the locker door and move towards the stairs,
just in case, when a red flasher grabbed my attention.  *Intercom, on
silent,* I identified before I shot something.  Dad had mounted LEDs on
the intercoms and set up another ringer circuit to flash them, when one
ill-timed call had almost caused him to assassinate some kitchen
equipment and/or have a heart attack.  Which I could completely
understand right now; a ringing phone bell would have died.
     I moved over to it and picked up the handset.  "Two."
     "Six.  Challenge."
     *Oh, shit...  What was the card...*  I looked at my memory,
remembered pie and Sabrina smiling at me over it, and-  "Twelve."
     *And he should-*  "Four."
     Positive, and un-coerced, identification.
     He continued, "What are you doing?"
     "Uh, I had a nightmare, came down to, uh, say the rosary," which is
what he called 'touching iron', "and, uh, it went off."
     "I sent you email ab-  Yes I did," he said in muted tones.  "Ye-
Sarah, I-"  There was some talk I couldn't hear, then Dad said clearly,
"Tuck, unlock and unload and go back to your room.  Through the ground
floor; it's clear, no hits on the sensors."
     "Aye-aye sir," I said.
     "Out."
     Before I could do more than take the helmet off, the speakers
mumbled, "Secure from General Quarters," and the small basement night-
light came back on.

***
01:40 18 Nov

     I'd decided some bubbly would help my mood, and maybe make it
easier to breathe, so I'd plugged myself in to the O2 equipment and
filled the big water trap with hot water and plugged in the immersion
heater.  It was sort of cold in here, I thought, but that might have
been me cooling off or something.

***
01:42 18 Nov

     "Ow!  Damnit!"  According to the weather sensors, it was not just
me; it was cold out.  And, it being dark out, it was only going to get
colder before I went to school.  "Bugger," I said as I shivered.  Which
suggested that long underwear was a good idea I should implement
immediately.

***
01:53 18 Nov

     I really needed to call Jack back, but I thought now would be a bad
time, so I made a note on my computer, and refreshed my memory of how to
dial out of here once I'd dialed in.
     *And I ought to be stretching the rest of me too, damnit.*  That
was gonna hurt.

***
06:00 18 Nov

     "Wha-  Oh, right," I sighed.  I loved school, I really did.
Especially when it interrupted what I was doing, which was practicing
synth and stuff.  "Damnit."  And now I was going to have to take OFF my
long johns to go shower.  "I don't really need to wash my hair, do I?"
I hurt too, from the stretching.

***
06:09 18 Nov

     "Oh hey..."  A hat like Nicole had worn a few days ago, or whenever
it was, would be a good idea.  Except I didn't have one.  And there
wasn't a good way I could get one, at least in the immediate future.
*Maybe I could ask Sabrina?  She might think it was stupid, though.  But
if she does,* I realized, *then I'd find out before I spent money on
it.*  I tried to remember if I'd ever seen Sabrina wearing something
like that, or Debbie, and couldn't remember anything like that.  "Hmmm."

***
06:39 18 Nov

     At least my ski parka had a hood on it.  And those idiotic cheap
generic hooded jackets with the dork zipper in front, were tolerably
warm if you wore other layers.  You looked even more like a dork if you
put the hood up and snugged it around your head, because anything
practical and sane was a fashion no-no, but I was definitely warm.
     Well, sort of.

***
06:57 18 Nov

     "Oh, hey," I said as I nearly ran into Jennie.  As she turned
around, I said, "Wasn't the wedding thing this weekend?  How'd it go?"
     "Oh goddamnit."
     "That good?"
     "That COW!  I swear to GOD if I never talk to her again..."  She
kicked the wall, which luckily was made of cement bricks.

***
06:58 18 Nov

     "What was that?" Jill asked me.  Kim glared around, at me for a
second or so before she glared at something else.
     "What?  It's my laptop, Jill, y-"
     "Not that, dork," she complained.  "What did you ask that girl?"
     "Oh, that's Jennie, one of the girls on the weekend?  She wasn't
here last weekend, and Nicole said she was at a wedding.  I forget
whose, but she had to be in the wedding party.  Apparently whoever it
was, was totally insane."
     "My sister's not married yet," Kim croaked.
     "Maybe she was a maid of honor," Jill said to her.  "Or dishonor,"
she added.  Kim barked, or coughed, or something, and then had some more
of her coffee.  Then, finally, my parser worked it out.
     "You know, you really ought to get a thermos for that; it's cheaper
than buying it every day," I mentioned, because the humorous moment was
lost.
     "Fuck you," she said, and smiled, painfully, for a few moments.
     "Jeez, if you were any happier to get up in the morning-"
     I interrupted Jill with, "She'd kill us both."
     Kim nodded and had some more coffee.

***
09:14 18 Nov

     *Now why does this stuff specifically not stink?* I asked myself,
because I'd specifically noticed that today while I was taking the
practice polish off, for some reason.  I had to think before I
remembered going home with Pam and the horrible stench in the car, which
had left me with the options of leaving the windows up and suffocating,
or rolling them down and freezing.  We'd compromised and half-suffocated
and half-froze.
     This stuff still smelled, but not quite so much, or so offensively,
or so damned LONG.  "So like..."  The bottle looked like industrial
stuff.  "Damnit."  They wouldn't sell this in normal stores.

***
09:44 18 Nov

     "Oh wait...  I need to ask her something before we leave," I told
Kim and Jill.
     "What?"
     "Did you hear about what Mike and everyone else did to me?"  They
shook their heads.  "They MADE me stay home from school and work
tomorrow"
     "Oh, okay," Kim said.  "Yeah, Debbie asked me to sit for the Parker
kids tomorrow.  I sort of wondered what was up."  If she had wondered,
she hadn't been doing it here, or at least not out loud.
     "Bitch," Jill mentioned, before the bell rang.
     "Yep," I agreed as I got up.  Most of the class had taking to
packing a little early and not actually sitting down, I guess in the
hopes they could save the extra ten seconds necessary to get out of a
desk and beat the crowd at the door; but with most of them doing that,
of course, the advantage was lost.  But there was plenty of room to get
up to Ms. Singley's desk and ask her, "Um, Miz Singley?  I'm supposed to
be missing most of school tomorrow; what happens if I miss this class
too?"
     "Why are you missing it?  Medical..." she didn't finish.
     "Yeah," I lied, to keep things simple.  It was even sort of true,
if 'medically advised rest' counted in her irregular expression.  "I'm
gonna be out the whole day, and miss work too, after school, so it's
sort of dumb to just come in for the one class.  And I can get the notes
or whatever from Jill or Kim, or Nicole I guess," I realized.
     "Well, of c- tomorrow's not a lab day," she mentioned.  "I guess
there won't be much of a problem.  You'll still have to make the time
up, though," she warned.
     "I know, but then I can sleep in a little more.  The doctor wants
me to sleep as much as I can, still," I said, which was sort of true,
though not specifically ordered for me tomorrow.
     "Well, alright.  Good luck tomorrow," she said.
     "Oh, thanks," I said back, smiling in relief.  It was kind of
stupid to come to school just for the one class, if I could make it up.
And it was only another hour; I had dozens to make up already, so one
more hardly made a difference.

***
10:43 18 Nov

     "Yo yo yo," Mike said to me for some reason when he saw me.
     "Yo ho," I said back, raising a hand.
     "And a bottle of rum!" Amanda added.  That sounded good, at least a
couple of drinks out of it.  I still ached from this morning.

***
11:31 18 Nov

     "Hey, I had a question," I asked Sabrina.  "What...  I mean,
Valerie was thinking about getting one of those knit hats, like the big
ones that sort of look like berets except larger?  Knitted?  Do you
think that would look good on her?"
     "Um, like...  Not with that coat.  Her coat," she said, thankfully
apparently catching what I was talking about.  I didn't know what the
proper name of the silly thing was.  "With like a wool coat or something
it'd work.  Gloves should match, if you wear 'em."
     "Oh."  I already had some cheap warm gloves, synthetic ski-type
goves, because knitted gloves didn't do a damned thing to keep my hands
warm.
     "What are you talking about?" Mike demanded.
     Sabrina gave him a 'drop dead' look and sneered, "Fashion."
     Mike deliberately dropped his pack on the floor and recoiled in
horror.  "No!" he proclaimed, "Not THAT!  ANYthing but THAT!"
     Amanda slapped Mike's back, and as he turned around I yelled, "Yes!
Now's he's infected too!"
     Mike obligingly screamed in terror and clawed at his head.
     "So like would I have to match the color of the coat?" I asked
Sabrina.
     "What?" she asked as she turned back around to look at me.
     "Jeez, pay attention for a minute!" I complained.

***
11:36 18 Nov

     "What do you MEAN you don't have any more pie," George complained,
trying to be threatening.
     "No more pie!" I repeated.  "No more, none.  It's all gone," I lied
somewhat; for all I knew, Mom and Dad had had the rest for breakfast.
*Or Brian took it,* which was incredibly likely once I thought of it.
*Bitch!*
     "You need to make some more."
     I rubbed my fingers at him.  "Ingredients plus time and skill
costs," I told him.  "Equipment depreciation."
     "Like how much," he asked warily.
     "I'll think about it."  Baking was a lot more fun in the winter,
especially when you opened the door and several hundred degree air
blasted you in the face.  This time of year, it felt good.  And despite
what Dad had warned me about, I'd never heard of anyone's hair catching
on fire.
     "Think about it," George said.
     "Bite my ass," I insisted.
     "Think about THAT before you do it," Mike suggested, RIGHT before
he rang the play bell.  "SO!  There are alarms going off outside and
there are lights on all over the place-"
     "Anything moving?" George asked, all - metaphorically - ears for
the game now.  He could be manipulated, but you had to have a game and a
combat or potential combat situation set up to do it.

***
12:16 18 Nov

     "Well, Tuck, enjoy your day off tomorrow," Mike mentioned.
     "Oh, right."  That might've been why he made my character fall into
a trance, now that I considered it.  Which I hadn't before, I'd just
been pissed.
     "Why do you get a day off tomorrow?" Kelly asked me.
     "Medical tests, another MRI, physical therapy check to make sure he
hasn't lost any mobility or anything," Mike lied with amazing aplomb.
     I hoped he was lying.
     "Dude!" George complained.
     "What the hell are you bitching about?!  You're not the one that's
going to be stuck with needles!  Or irradiated!"  I was scared Mike
wasn't lying, because there were all these things that COULD be done to
me on a day I wasn't in school...
     "Maybe you'll get super powers," George grinned.
     "I tried that already, it didn't work."
     "Did you try a massive overdose?"
     "Uh, no; how about you try that one, tell us how it goes?"
     George shook his head.  "Dan!"
     "No fucking way," Dan replied sideways from his conversation with
Matt.
     "Paul!"
     "Huh?"
     "Say 'no'," I advised him.
     He looked confused, but agreeably said, "No?"
     "Say it like you mean it!" I said over George's attempt to
fast-talk him into radiation overexposure.

***
12:21 18 Nov

     "Sabrina said you had the day off tomorrow?" Kathy asked me as we
trudged along towards our classes.  I was beginning to hate towing the
cart with my books and stuff, a lot; but it was nice the way people got
out of Kathy's way.  They wouldn't get out of mine.
     "Wh-  Oh, yeah, Debbie did her Debbie-fu on me, an- Mike thought I
needed an extra day off, like to rest, so he called like everyone exce-
well, he called everybody like my parents and Dobson and D- my doctor,
and got them to agree to me having a day off, and THEN called ME and
told me about it, and I got pissed that he's doing this shit to my life
without asking me, and then he sicced Debbie on me and I ended up
agreeing to it.  So I'm taking tomorrow off," I summarized.
     "Man," she sighed at me.  "Need someone to help you tomorrow?  I'm
Red Cross certified in a lot of stuff, you know."
     "Um...  damn.  You shoulda asked Mike before he set it up," I
sighed.  Though I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to be around her; I did
have the chance to be away from EVERYONE tomorrow.  That was rare.
     She commented, "Damnit."
     "You need a day off too?"
     She sighed.  "It'd just be something different, you know?  I get so
bored here."
     "Yeah, well..." I nodded at her.  "Maybe you should've taken
calculus with me."
     "Heh," she said.  "I think I need the algebra 2 first, though,
right?"
     "Oh, it's pretty much..."  Although, thinking about it, she really
did.  I had it, but then I'd had it.  "Never mind; you do."

***
13:11 18 Nov

     "Oh, uh, medical tests," I lied to Mr. Ortega.  "I don't remember
what, just- there's like a couple of different places I gotta go, like
four," I elaborated.  I didn't want to tell him I was just taking a day
off, because then he might want one too.
     "Mr. Dobson said to save you the homework, is why I asked," he told
me.
     "Ah.  Well, if you can give it to me now, it'd give me something to
do in the waiting rooms," I said.  Then I realized I wasn't actually
going to be IN waiting rooms tomorrow, but it was too late.
     This lie was starting to take on a life of its own.  I hoped I
wasn't going to inadvertently summon some kind of appointment or
something at the last minute with the psychic energy.

***
14:01 18 Nov

     "Free at last, free at last," I said to myself as I began carting
myself out to the parking lot.  Maybe I DID need a day off.
     Not, I realized as I unlocked the trunk, that I had one, yet.

***
15:06 18 Nov

     "I have some-"  *No, that's the lie,* I remembered.  "Oh, uh, no,
this is the day off everyone was talking about yesterday and stuff."  I
recalled this had been going on for a while, like a month.  "I'm
supposed to rest and stuff before I get sick again."
     "Man...  I asked last night and my parents said I couldn't go with
you," Ricky grumbled.  "How come you get one?"
     "Uh," I had to think of a reason, and QUICK.  "'Cause I was in the
hospital, remember?"  I hoped that would work.  "REALLY sick."
     He sighed again.  "I hate school."
     "Yeah, well..."

***
15:14 18 Nov

     "Man, it is so COLD out there!" Ricky mentioned as he came back in.
Even Hangover seemed to agree with him, without the usual psychic
backtalk.
     "Warmer than this morning, though," I mentioned.
     "Yeah, I thought I was gonna die," he said.  "An' I dunno how...
Is there any way to train a dog to like... do- to go to the bathroom
inside?  Like a person?"
     I had an un-ignorable image of Hangover sitting on a toilet and
doing his thing, which was complaining morosely about everything that
was going on.  Which made me snort.  "Um..."

***
15:21 18 Nov

     I couldn't find anything via the Internet, which pissed me off.
*Everything SHOULD be there...*  But this wasn't.

***
15:26 18 Nov

     Some hot chocolate not only hit the spot and provided some
transitory warmth and some bonus calories, but helped with my sense of
loss or whatever.  It SHOULD'VE been on the Internet.
     Stella grabbed for my mug, which I managed to parry without making
a mess.  "Hah!"

***
16:17 18 Nov

     "Hey!"
     "What?" Ricky asked.
     "Uh... nothing."
     "Aw come on!"
     I sighed.  "I need a haircut, so I could get one tomorrow."
     "Man..."
     "Or, I could go some other time, and take you, and then you get to
sit around and read women's magazines and 'be on your best behavior' and
things for an hour.  Oh, and watch Stella," I added, sure that would be
the final stake in the chest.
     "Ugh!  No way!"  It was.
     "So let me get to the phone and call for an appointment..."  Except
I didn't know John's number.  Aw shit.

***
16:19 18 Nov

     Nor did I know the name of the salon.

***
16:24 18 Nov

     Or the address.  However, I could figure out where it was once I
had the street map from my car, and then I could scan the addresses in
the yellow pages ads.

***
16:27 18 Nov

     "Okay, thanks," I said.  "Bye."
     Or, as a late inspiraton hit, I could call Debbie and ask her.
     *Nah.*  Plus I already had everything.
     "All that just for a haircut?" Ricky asked.

***
17:11 18 Nov

     "Huh?  What's hard about it?  I made like... almost two dozen pies
this weekend.  Just don't make mincemeat, that takes FOREVER."
     Miz Parker gave me a 'oh come on, you expect me to believe THAT?'
look.
     Before she could say anything, I pointed at the phone and
challenged, "Call my dad if you don't believe me.  He was there.  And he
ate a lot of pie, too."  So had everyone else in town, I thought.
*Surprised she wasn't there; everyone ELSE was.*
     "Really?"
     "Sure.  Just... If you're going to be making your own crusts, you
need like a slab of marble to really do it well.  Or granite or
something.  As a heat sink," I explained.  "That's what Mom said,
anyway.  And it worked..."  The pie crusts I'd made had been at least as
good as the ones I'd bought, though of course they were cheaper in
dollars and more expensive in time and effort.  If I had a real job like
Dad's (so to speak), or maybe I meant 'real income', the dollars would
be cheaper than the time, but right now the reverse was sort of true.
Actually, both resources were pretty limited...
     I shook my head and came back, and added, "Uh, anyway, it's not
that hard for the rest of it."
     She looked at me like I my hair was slowly falling out, or I had
snot on my face, or something; then slowly started shaking her head.
"And you... you like doing this?  Baking, I mean?"
     I shrugged.  "It's not that bad... and this time of year, warm is a
really nice thing, right?"

***
19:37 18 Nov

     "Ricky, I'll be back Thursday," I said quietly into his ear.  He'd
demanded a hug, as if I was going away for a long time or something.
"Really."
     "Promise?" he demanded as he let go and stared into my face at
close range.
     "Promise!" I lied.  Well, I crossed some fingers.  I was PLANNING
to be here, but sometimes I had to wonder if planning did any good at
all or was just sort of a dare to the fate gods.

***
21:02 18 Nov

     "Do I need to bring your homework tomorrow?" Sabrina asked me.
     "Wha-  Oh, no, I'm getting it Thursday.  I already got the
calculus, and did that."  Ricky had skipped a chess match in favor of
some cartoon or something he wanted to watch, and Stella had sort of
half-napped after the hot chocolate and the rest of the snack I'd shared
with her, so I'd had nothing better to do while the chicken was cooking.
"Hey, um," I remembered belatedly, "did I thank you for letting me
borrow that dress and stuff last weekend?"
     She smiled, and said, "I don't remember.  You're welcome.  How'd it
all work out?"
     "Oh man!" I grinned.  "I think I looked great!  Pam did too," I
mentioned, and Sabrina nodded at that.
     "Did you take pictures?"
     "Huh?  No, I didn't..."
     "Eh," she shrugged.
     "Do you normally take pic-"
     "With Kathy around you can't avoid it," she pointed out, and I
nodded.  "And, y'know, sometimes you want a picture to remember
something, or if you looked really good or something."
     "Maybe I should borrow it- the dress again and let Kathy take some
shots," I grinned.
     She grinned back and nodded, but then warned, "Yeah, but if you do
that, she might keep 'em, or the negatives, and then who knows.  I mean,
she wouldn't do anything like really BAD with 'em, but- we've seen some
funny pictures of people, like each other, with the shots that didn't
work.  Like one where someone... I dunno, but like Kathy managed to cut
off their head in the photograph?"  She showed the framing mistake with
her hands in front of herself.  "So someone said they were- it was
Debbie, I think, Amanda said like Debbie must've been wearing a bag over
her head, and it sort of went on from there."  She ended up chuckling as
she talked, I guess at the memory of it.  
     "Oh, right," I said.  That would be kind of annoying.  Well, 'kind
of annoying' squared or so, since they tended to do that anyway, even
without props like amusing photographs.
     "And, y'know, if you do something and then a few years later think
it was really stupid...  Like Debbie dyed her hair blonde one summer."
     "What?!"  The idea of Debbie, who was dark enough of hair and eye
to make you think she was Italian-descended, as a BLONDE...  "No WAY!"
     "That's what she said a couple weeks later, but it was too late,"
Sabrina mentioned.  Then laughed.

***
21:33 18 Nov

     "Aw, mannnn..."  I missed Sabrina already, and she'd only been gone
a few minutes.
     Still, maybe I could get a quick shower to heat up and clear out my
lungs (just in case), and then go to bed before I got cold.

***
21:53 18 Nov

     Drying off was a great time to check your email, especially if you
had some plastic over the keyboard to prevent shorts, and weren't stupid
enough to put the computer(s) where drips could fall on them.
     I was notified, belatedly, that I was taking tomorrow off, except
for cosmetology - I sent a correction out - and that there was a change
in house wiring and procedure, that opening of the arms or heavy gear
lockers after house lockdown would change the house state to GQ.  "Mmm,
thanks for warning me..."  I checked, and while the message said it had
been written a couple of weeks ago, it had only gotten into MY email
system tonight.  "Ya huh.  Mail forgery is a crime, bubba."  Or it
should be.  If someone else did it.

***
22:07 18 Nov

     "Oooh, and I'm off tomorrow," I remembered as I was burrowing into
my bedsheets.  That almost seemed like a good thing at the moment.
     Sleep, however, seemed like a better thing.

***


The man for me is the cherry on the pie. But I'm the pie and my pie is
good all by itself. Even if I don't have a cherry. -- Halle Berry


Distribution:
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the entirety of the work (from the BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE header to
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+ @>--,--'-----   Ellen Hayes   o===[--------      __      vicki .sig  +
                  -=[1990]=-                       \/      virus 13.6
+      http://www.barkingduck.net/ehayes     PGP key: EFC9 5D55 (1996) +



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