Chapter 33 - Bermuda VI

   That night? We went from thinking we were surely all in the doghouse, to one degree or another... to a pleasantly surprising, slightly elevated position. This comfort level, came later. We were immediately afterwards? I suppose much like teenagers caught with beer and stolen hard corn by the local cops. Cops near Halloween... who laughed, took the beer, and said to get the hell out of here for the night. I remember going from sitting there quiet, figuring my goose was lightly cooked. To two smiling local cops. The one only "confiscated" half of our beer, and let us keep the rest. The other? Gave us pointers on getting better at throwing corn.

   He counted on his fingers. Staying on foot, and hitting from the woods. With a stick and move mentality? It was harder to put a stop to. Multiple vehicles was another coordinated strategy. Off road vehicles only, was yet another. We ended up quickly, with a dirt bike raiding mentality. One young cop more or less joined us? By suggesting we initiate a fun field trip. He called it the "delinquent exchange program". We all cased another town for hard corn, and their teenagers cased ours.

   We got over our post lecture jitters quick, and went with one worm each. Panic reminded me I was still on the hook, for our sexy bet. I was stuck in permanent truth or dare mode. I had to answer any question, no matter how embarrassing. Tell any story asked, in as much detail as required of me. And naturally, accept without any question... any dare, be it embarrassing or sexual in nature.

   I'm naturally sexually dominant, and its my fun novelty to switch out. Little Lightning sneaking her bet in, was a double whammy. They ganged up on me, and used me for an embarrassed and humiliated... well, anything they demanded. This game, would have been way less fun to have me in this prolonged and compromised position... before I got my emotions back.

   When Wizzy died? Yeah, we were both shot by the same hunting rifle round. But his injuries were way more severe. I wasn't the one with blood that would squirt up in the air over your head and in your eyes and mouth, when you tried to hold things shut, to try as gamely as you could, to win this game.

   Target, the FBI agent who ironically, Wiz had saved his life some years back when he got shot in the face as an FBI on a routine late night call that ended up anything but. Target barked out instructions. It was a game of time and blood. The time game, had two stages. How long to get the ambulance here, and how long to get him to the emergency room. The blood game? Started immediately. It had three stages. On scene, how much blood could we keep in him. The ambulance crew? Would be better at this blood retention game. The final stage of the blood game? Handing him over to emergency room pros, and he still had a pulse or a brain wave.

   We lost that game, obviously. Some littler guy in the ambulance tried working on me. I vaguely remember choke slamming him with adrenaline, and telling him to get working on this guy, now. He took a deep breath, blew it out, and immediately went to work. I tried to apologize to him later? He laughed it off. Told me I made a good decision.

   I remember the ambulance driver. This guy had nerves of steel. His job? Drive fast. If the vehicle is still moving at full speed? Keep it that way, don't stop. He mounted curbs, we mowed things down that were inanimate objects. Parking meters, garbage cans, whatever. He even moved one small car. he put it in low 1, touched the bumper, and shoved a highly agitated driver out into an intersection then went around and was back on his merry way. Apparently with an FBI agent coordinating temporary friendships over the radio? He had a blank check as long as he didn't kill anyone. We weren't long into the wild ambulance ride, before cops were holding honking heavy traffic back, and waving us on. Cops with lights and sirens weren't trying to pull us over, they were clearing a path.

   I remember his very last words, near the bitter end. Honey? I'm going now. Real soon. Now, when I'm gone? I'm going to be in here for a couple minutes. I'll still be able to hear and see things. Do me a favor. I don't want my last memories? To be hearing you screaming and hitting me. Why, why, why. All I need, just give me a couple minutes. So I did. I stayed quiet. I kept talking to him. I listed off the things he told me he wanted me to do, promising.

   You have no sense of time, under adrenaline like that. His couple minutes of brain function? Were long gone. I was just kissing and clutching and talking to cold meat, at some point. He was a macabre teddy bear they used, to get me as calmly as they could, into the emergency room. It was prying me off the dead body so they could now work on the living injured, me. That, was the new problem.

   If you ever wondered? When asking polite doesn't work, to get you off the dead person so you can be worked on. Ordering you, less and less polite each time, is the next step. Dragging you physically off and away is next, and if they have any substantial trouble with that? They do this for a living. They have a procedure. More and more people tackle you and try to control you, while someone comes with what is essentially the tranquilizer dart you bring the zoo animal down with, so you can let the veterinarian work on the lion's bad tooth.

   They yank the covers off of ready to go syringes with their teeth, and plunge and push. I got two or three of the damn things. Me and Target had a laugh years later over it. He's the next room over, but can see this going on. I guess there's a couple little girly girl nurses all trying the everyone grab an arm and a leg trick. Some little girl gamely tried to get my legs. He said they hauled me back on a counter, stuff's just scattering everywhere. Little girl's yelling triumphantly. I got her legs, I got her legs. Next thing he knows? You just see this little girl go flying across the doorway he's watching through. She flies up onto a spare gurney and goes crashing off behind it. He said she yelled out... I guess I don't got her legs.

   He said an intern or doctor comes out, after they brought me down and hauled me off to work on the shoulder. Said the guy asked. We got her down, she looks like she'll be fine. Who the hell is she? Target said he told him. You just met? The Hurricane. She plays college sports, a couple states over. Sweet girl, under normal circumstances. Her friends? Call her Hurry.

   He said the guy's nodding. No, I'm sure. Guy was being a wise ass, all emergency workers develop a sense of humor. So, she plays college ball, huh? Target says, yeah. Guys joking. So, she's what. A linebacker... Target said you don't wanna laugh in that situation, but. Somehow it helps.

   But? This situation. The whole crazy situation. It reminded me of that. Next day, I woke up. Shoulder hurts, but whatever. I knew I should feel... embarrassed. Sheepish. Want to apologize to the people I'd no doubt injured trying to drag me off to work on me. But, when I apologized... everyone laughed it off. No big deal, we do this all the time.

   And that's what this was like. Vladimir wasn't pissed, he was impressed with Elise. He must have explained his unique viewpoint of the situation? Because a couple days later, Elise reported Francois drawing more figures in the sand, with his toe. Telling her to think about it. Female bodyguards are rare. Most resort to a gun, quickly. And like a muscular bouncer, they stick out like sore thumbs. Elise, has the magical ability to blend in. Her weird balance of a lifetime of close quarter combat, both unarmed and armed... combined with her ability to be effective rape bait? Dolled up, not looking that dangerous. It made her rare and desirable. The fact that her personality obviously meshed well with the wife, was a cherry on that sundae. Vlad pointed out, as well. She's not just protecting a client, for bragging rights. She's protecting her lover.

   Vladimir would end up wanting to engage in some playtime with Panic. He explained. It wasn't to see how good he was, or to see who the better man was. It was professional curiosity. The better Panic was, the more capability he viewed Elise with. And her element of surprise she brought to the table? Was priceless.

   The jokes were priceless. Panic ribbed Elise for all it was worth, with the whole... you turned me on jokes. Another, was he started asking Elise if she'd walk on his back again, it really helped his sore back out. He told her he intended to sue her. For sexual harassment. He asked her how much she charged. When Elise asked what? He shrugged. You know. Rough sex? Costs extra.

   But? That all came later. I live in the here, and the now. And right now? I've got a topped up dose of... well, the worm. Sex on the beach might be a fantastic drink, but the real thing? Is yummy. The water is warm. I can float on my back, and relax. When I'm positioned at just the right depth of water? Panic can... move me at will with no effort. Soft, slow. Hard, frantic. And I'm on the hook to be an all night truth and dare taker, no questions asked.

   When I woke up with a sore shoulder in the hospital? I felt funny. Took me a while to figure out, it wasn't shock or surgery shots wearing off. I couldn't feel anything. I had no emotions. Took me a long time to realize, that I still had them? They were just turned down so low, that only the strongest emotional moments barely registered.

   It was the circumstances I met Panic under. When I realized I was feeling... weak in the knees, dizzy, silly. Even anger and jealousy. I was hooked so deep, there was no way I was going to ever give this up. It was my only ticket to anything approaching love and normal intimacy in my cold sterile world. Sexual excitement, I could feel. The fleeting feelings of real emotional love, though? I knew I was a deaf person, who could only hear explosions and sirens. The fact I was "hearing", anything at all? Told me this was the real thing, come back to me.

   But, now? I have my emotions back for a while now. I can feel things, like... shame and humiliation. I can blush deep red, and get apprehensive about a dirty sex act proposed to me. When they had done all they could think of floating me in the water, they dragged me to the water's edge. That wet sand the surf just washes and recedes on? Doesn't stick to you and get all kinds of places you don't need or want sand in. I offered myself to both of them in turns and at the same time. They accepted it, and did what they wanted with me.

   The shame, the humiliation, the sexual excitement... mixed with the topping up of the worms and that intense body rock. Pulsating warmth and rhythmic goodness. The dares I had to accept, were one thing. They had to get creative on the truths I had to tell. They searched, poked, prodded. They finally found one. I was actually embarrassed. I hid my hands, they made me tell, laughing.

   Had I never checked out another girl, outside of me, Light, Wiz... or me, Light, Panic. No wondering, no fantasizing. Somehow, me and Lightning don't think of ourselves as gay or even bisexual. It only "works", when we shared first Wiz and now Panic.

   I was in college. Wizzy had called in the MP's, and it was late in that case. Elise had been brought in. These former MP's now in law enforcement all coming in to work their private shared case, before cracking it open enough it would go legit? They stayed in our townhouse. Me and Elise would naturally share the bathroom getting ready and dressing.

   I knew who and what she was. Me and Wiz and Little Lightning? We were already... a trio in all ways possible. Which had me and Light, in constant sexual fun. But, only with Wiz. Yes, it entertained us but it entertained him, too. We had an extended kissing time once, with him out of the townhouse, just to see. It wasn't the same. We kissed and even passionately a little here and there alone, but... we never went solo. And neither of us, did what we did, in any other relationship.

   So, there I am. Alone getting dressed with Elise in our big bathroom at the townhouse. I'm a lifelong female athlete. Girls undress and dress and shower together in the locker rooms all the time. But, because of the trio sex with Wiz and especially Little Lightning. I didn't "want" Elise. I just glanced over, and found myself wondering. What if this woman had been the one into this with us, instead of Light. What would that have been like.

   Technically? I'm checking her out. Elise, has a magic gut. She knows when she's being watched. She just mentioned, bent over getting dressed. You having fun checking my ass out? Its fine. I had emotions then. I stammered, I froze. I shook. I was scared, embarrassed, excited. She stood right in front of me, nose to nose. She's a big girl like me, athletic. Plain, but pretty. And the athletic body makes up for any plain Jane on her part.

   She's right there, I'm trapped up against the sink and mirror. I admitted, I was frozen. I babbled and stammered, she was smiling. She could have just... grabbed me and kissed me. Touched me... it probably would have went, well... wherever she took it. I was frozen in shame and fear, I couldn't talk or run. Light had touched and licked me and made me climax how many times. I knew my body would respond if she grabbed me, kissed me, and touched me. She's a lesbian. She damn sure knows, how to flick me and get me off quick.

   She strong enough she could hold me and if not force me, hold me just long enough. For a few touches that would start... my reaction that couldn't be stopped. I knew, I couldn't physically resist her, if she tried. I had to admit it. If we had been alone, and she grabbed me and kissed me, touched me? She could have dragged me into the bedroom. It was all my six one, six two muscular kick-boxer dirty wrestler mister MP boyfriend could do, to hold her off. Play fighting practicing with her.

   I'd be helpless. Once touched enough, once I responded, that would be it. I could be dragged off, ravished. I knew she was a former MP and now a cop. She'd have handcuffs, just like I owned handcuffs. She'd be comfortable using them. As an experienced lesbian? She'd know all the tricks sexually with me, too. If I was dominant and domineering in my bedroom? I'd now get treated the same way, by her. And I'd end up liking it, too.

   But she let the moment pass. She told me, I just know. You're not like that. It only works? With Light and Wizzy. She didn't take full advantage of me? And she easily could have. The cat? Let that mouse go. And after that moment? We were all down in the kitchen. She stole up behind me, and hugged me. I jumped out of my skin, and she whispered in my ear.

   See? I knew. If you were? You'd have just... melted back into me. You jumped. But I'm flattered. Thanks for the compliment. After that? We were just... sisters. She'd hug and kiss my cheek. The MP's would tease Wiz, hey watch out. That guy makes six figures a year, as a detective in the big city. Looks like you got competition, buddy.

   I even told them the funniest joke. Me, Elise and Wiz... would make runs into the target town. Setup work. We stayed in cheap motel rooms, a couple towns away. We were all three in bed, and Elise made a joke. So. We all going to fuck now, or what. We all cracked up. Wizzy said, no offense Elise. Having you in bed with me and her? Is about as much fun as having Target sleeping in our bed. And, we all laughed more.

   I asked Wiz if he had ever Kissed Elise, once? He said no. Kissing a boy? That would be gay. Again, we all lost our shit laughing.

   I admitted it now, though. Elise had given me a knowing smile, as she made the joke. It was just an extra joke, shared between us.

   As immaculately fucked up as we were, laying in the warm surf's edge. Talking like schoolgirls, sleeping over. Panic had the presence of mind, to ask. Was it okay, to talk about anything that mentioned Wiz. I didn't have to, he didn't want me to get hurt. I told him, no. It was fine. I was once supposed to be a therapist at one time. I have to follow the advice I'd give others, for myself. I'm late stage recovery, or post recovery. If I can't talk about it, without pain that isn't just bittersweet? I'm not recovered.

   Panic cracked us up a few minutes later.

   "So. What you're saying is. You get twat tingles from Elise. And, if she just grabbed you and made you? We're talking, just token resistance at the gates. No, no no... oh okay, take me, big girl."

   I called him a bastard and a son of a bitch? But we were laughing our asses off. This whole thing? Reminded me of one of those, celebrity roasts. They do it to big stars. Ones that just hit the really big time, and... to well established life long big stars. The star gets his roast, he or she is the guest of honor. But, they go round robin, around the table time and again. For a solid hour or two. You don't just get made fun of? You get made fun of by professional comedians.

   Professionals, in the fine art of insult comedy. There is no sacred cow, nothing is off the table. You get both barrels, from everyone more than twice. They find that one comedian or actor? Who is reported to be able to imitate you so uncanny well, its scary. Then, they act out jokes given by the other professional comedians.

   You're a tough guy actor? You hear all the fag or lesbian jokes. You're gay? You get made fun of for that. If all your movies make millions, but... you were in that one flop? Oh, they all zero in on that movie. They act it out, the impersonator apes your performance, its rich humor of the highest caliber.

   If you're known for your ability to cry on camera, for dramatic performances? Oh, look at me. I can make sniffles. Where's my Oscar and Emmy. I put a little piece of onion in my eye. Oh, I'm such a great actor. One huge actor and director? Had a famous death scene in a blockbuster period action film. They played another famous action movie performance he made, younger. They played side by side, showing he used almost the exact same face, tears, and facial expressions.

   He busted a gut laughing, and couldn't barely sit let alone stand.

   That's how I felt. I wasn't ashamed and humiliated. I was actually the star for a night. I was having my roast. I must really be successful and some kind of important, or everyone wouldn't take such care, to make sure my ego doesn't get too big. Making sure I stay down to earth, and accessible.

   I had to describe what it was like. To be sexually dominant, and to switch out for a night or a few nights. Was it just a novelty? Or, was I curious the first time, then got to actually like it. I described how it felt. I admitted, that after I lost my emotions? It just became something else to provide physical sexual excitement. But, after my feelings finally returned? It was rich and rewarding. There's something warm and safe, about finally giving up, and going with it. Then, finally surrendering, and getting into it. Finally, offering yourself up, asking and finally begging for more.

   I also observed, asked about it all. Which was better. I said its a two part thing. I'm naturally one way. That? Feels most normal and the best fit. It comes easy. But? I spend all my time. Planning out what I'm doing to the person giving themselves to me. I have to be careful. Monitor the action. I'm in charge, I bear responsibility. If they're tied up, panties shoved in their mouth? I have to be aware if they might actually be in distress or getting hurt in a way that's not on the menu.

   I've been on both side of that coin, and in the middle ground many times, all sides. I have to say, because its truth or dare night, and its all me, all night. Being the submissive for the night? You're more or less the center of attention. No matter what's going on? Its being done, to you. They take turns, they team up. Whatever. But, you're the object of the entire night. Tonight? Panic or Light can take a break. But I can't. If I leave, its over and the music stops until I return. And maybe, that's what most women get out of it. Because most women are both naturally submissive and crave attention.

   Maybe I'm reaffirming, that I am a female, and there's nothing wrong with me. When I'm the bottom for the night. But? We're immaculately fucked up, and its a celebrity roast.

   Panic took his shot.

   "Maybe? You're just a huge slut, a complete whore."

   We laughed our asses off.

   It was Light's turn.

   "Hell. Maybe we're just that fucked up."

   We all agreed. We were. The gentle surf washing over my skin? Had its own time and rhythm. The pulsations that emanated out over me, had their own timing. Those two timing systems, were different. But sometimes, on a set period... they coincided. And that? When the little surf wave exactly coincided with a big pulsation... was the greatest. It left little vibrations, little echoes. And just as the echoes from it disappeared? The next coincidental one hit. Like, a gong ringing. And the next gong hit came just as the last ring had died out from the last. Light observed on it.

   "Two things. Yeah, its like that. And? We're fucking wrecked!"

   We were like children at play. They made me pee in front of them. They pointed and laughed and made jokes. I laughed with them. Its my celebrity roast. I'm the star for a night. Light threw her head back and laughed, I was wrapped around her in the water. She got the fun of being able to carry me around, kissing me, weightless. She made me do it to her, then laughed her ass off when I felt the extra warmth in the water coming from between her legs. Yeah. She peed on me. But, were in the ocean, who cares. Panic got behind me while I was standing talking to Light in the knee deep, and hosed me down on my thigh. Like little toddlers, no shame and no sense of anything resembling propriety.

   They buried me in the sand. Go figure, things went in or around my mouth. Not like I didn't know what was expected of me for that. We decided this was going to be called... the roast. Panic and Light agreed to either flip a coin, or play a card game to see which of them went next.

   We've taken turns, being the submissive one for the night. But? Never with the added component of the big truth or dare game. The constant stream of the truth, combined with these... worm pulsations? Incredible. We all agreed. We have to find out where the hell they get these damn things from.

   We fell into our reverie, a little quicker. Its normal. You go without a bag of weed for a while. You finally get one, and good stuff. What do you do. You take a puff or two. Wow. By the end of your ounce of score? You're smoking pipes or joints. No different than anything else.

   We just moved up through the laughter, the intense body rock fun period, then the falling back down through laughter and... into laying in the surf's edge? The four hour trip, if you want to call it that... became, what. A three and a half hour trip. Now on our second trip, we know to watch our childish behavior a little bit, when we go back. Although Panic jokes, he wouldn't mind getting wrestled to the ground by Elise, handcuffed, and... he admits that's the big problem there. I asked what.

   "Honey? Its not much of a fantasy. Everything's perfect, then... the gay girl walks away. Not only can't she do anything for me? I can't even get a proper fantasy going about it! How in the hell do you beat off? To that!"

   Me and Lightning are holding our tummies, giggling our asses off.

   "Yeah. Some porno, that would be, huh? The action starts ramping up. There's that patented porn music. Boom, chick a wow wow..."

   We're about crying laughing, listening to this funny rant.

   "The female athlete? Wrestles him down. He fights, he actually can't get away, or stop her. Its not like before, with his girlfriend. Where, he has to let her take him. Oh no, this is the real deal. He's trapped, he's helpless, she's got him now... he's wondering. What, is she going to do with me? Oh god..."

   I'm pumping my legs, slapping the wet sand and the warm water.

   "And then? Music suddenly stops. The girl? Walks away. Screen goes black. I mean, I don't buy porn and watch it? But, if I did. And I bought this one? There I am... yeah, yeah... get him, you dirty little girl, get him good. Oh, this is so hot... and... what the fuck!"

   Oh, lord.

   "Who made this shit. Is, this some sort of joke? Well. That's, what any fantasy I could come up with about that? Would be like. I can't even beat off to that!"

   I'm going to piss the sand, laughing.

   "What. I'm going to sit down, when you're at work. Time? To beat off, to my fantasy about Elise. What the hell. How would that even work. I'm supposed to stroke it, to what end. Oh yeah... oh yeah... she's just about to quit, and do nothing."

   "So. You're saying I don't need to be worried, or jealous."

   "Well. If its doing something for you? To worry, to be jealous. That, gets you going. Then? Fine. But... otherwise, no."

   Eventually, we fade into our reveries. Little Lightning seems to be having a quiet lover's heart to heart with Teddy ball. Until Panic admits otherwise? He's probably ruminating on... the mysteries of what el sombrero de copa, and copa sombrero... actually mean. Or, could mean.

   I naturally, or couldn't you just guess. Like its a real stump-er, huh. I had another council. Young Napoleon started this one, which was odd. Joan? Sort of chairs my councils. How the hell is my imagination subverted to what it wants me to see, instead of the other way around. Napoleon is in different clothes, but he's staring at the same chess game. He looks up. I get his... oh, its you again. That look. Damn it, dance around and entertain me, you arrogant little prick. I created you, you know. You exist? Because I want or need you to be here.

   I get the glance up. Not quite an eye roll, but a little shake of the head. His, I can't believe this, that look. Back to his chess board. But, he's the twisted and brilliant tactical genius. You have to be patient with Napoleon. You wait on him. What else can you do after all. Its more than enough I have him. If not at my disposal, then at least around.

   But maybe, that's the point. Little children are impatient. They demand things now. Parents, even ones that want to give the kid what it wants? Have to patiently explain. I can't make your birthday come sooner. A little older? I learned I couldn't make my one "friend" like me. Funny, though I was really young. I had no trouble with the concept, when another girl liked me, and I couldn't stand her.

   When the situation reversed itself? I saw what it was like. For her. I felt my Catholic guilt. Pretty bad, for a little kid. My mom wanted to know why I was moping. While we had our talk in my tub bath time, and as mom was carefully brushing and arranging my hair? For bed. So, as I'm watching Napoleon stare at his board, and ignore me, I can remember this.

   Mom had tried, with the girl that liked me and I didn't like her back. Honey, at least see. The best of friends? Don't always like each other at all, the first time you lay eyes on each other. In fact? Some of the greatest friendships, can come out of those things. You one day realize, even if its just because you're forced to. That you do share more than you realize.

   Mom said, it not all that bad, to have a little fan club. Kind of an ego boost, to have someone that worships the ground you walk on. I was too young to understand what an ego or a boost to it was. She tried to explain that? Then said it would come when I was older, or ask once a year. Mom was sure it wouldn't be long, I'd grasp that one.

   But no. Then? When it was me. Mom said, maybe that was god showing me what it was like. To like someone, and you can't make them like you back. No matter how hard you try. Catholic guilt. What could I do?

   Mom's suggestion. Why sit around the barn when its not raining and schools out, and you're too young for all the big animals yet. You should be playing. But, the girl I like doesn't like me. Well? Maybe, you should at least try. Try what, mom. If you're that bored, go and see the girl you didn't like. Try. It sort of did work out. I mean, we didn't become best friends for all time, but... she stayed with her grandparents in the summers. The second summer? I was actually kind of excited to have her back. My mom smiled. See? Yeah mom. Thanks.

   That friend, her parents moved and the summers at my town quit. Still though. Lesson learned. God's plan, huh? Years later. There's me at college. Coach's adult. Coach was as excited as a little girl, to tell me. You got that western all stars wing? Yeah! And? Even better. Guess who just... shows up? Expressing interest. Who, coach. The... even bigger one! The big wing, on the Eastern all stars. Little Lightning? Want to come here! Man, I can't believe it. I got the biggest wing, one each side of the national all stars team. I got... bookends! We had a young big star center, and coach can give her the two best wings in the country.

   And just like that? It started. I was already den mother to the young star freshman center. My job? Try to keep her out of trouble. I was a coach's wet dream. I study, I don't run around boy crazy, I don't party my ass off. I don't mind my fullback position. Coach was gaga though. He basically courted and landed the number two draft pick, and here comes the number one draft pick? Picks his school, and out of the blue. Normally you ask, what other schools are you considering? So you can argue against them. No other considerations. She wants to go here.

   Now? I got handed den mother position to not just the moody brooding star center. I now got the more normal number two, and yeah. The Pride of the Mid-West herself.

   Not normal. At all. But once you saw her practice? Oh, fine. She was that damn good. First time I drove her into town for a pizza chat? She brings her soccer ball, and sits him with her on her side of the booth. His name's Teddy. Its her... Teddy Ball. Her reasoning. If other girls can have a Teddy Bear? Why in the hell can't I have a Teddy Ball. Hey. I couldn't argue the logic of that. Got a boyfriend at home? Nope. Best friend you miss? Nope. Miss your mom? Not at all. Hate her. What's your major? Don't know. Coach says he'll pick something I can get a degree in. Favorite movie? Wizard of Oz. Got any hobbies? Soccer. Other than soccer? I used to dance, ice skate and roller skate. And I like boys.

   But? I remembered mom. This girl looks up to you? Try. Now, all these years later. We're not only still together? We're on our second guy we share and share alike. She picked up some of my good girl traits. I got mentored by her? In how to be a little bit of a bad girl. If only with my guy.

   I wouldn't have even met Wizzy, if not for her. Wiz? Was asking her out for coffee, a lot. She knows I have a long standing crush on this one guy. She finds a rumor, that mister major general of the geek squad? Is actually some kind of commando or something. She actually liked him, it came out in the end. But, she can score guys. I'm a stay at home, waiting on mister right. All she would do, and that's in her own words? Get a month if that out of him, then on to the next one. Might as well let you have him, you stay with a guy as long as you can.

   Wow. That kind of loyalty. That? Is rare. Mom primed me for this. And? She inadvertently leads me to Wiz. Which? Leads to Panic, years later. Because nothing except another Wiz, come back reincarnated? Will quite do. Without Panic? The smiley face killer is never brought down. Which, puts him near me. And? I'm assassinated in my bed, at zero dark thirty by a dirty fed. Except? Surprise. Another commando in sheep's clothing is sleeping over with me.

   And? The dirty dozen gets taken out. The DC police force, gets overhauled. Now? Where are we. This, is what the universe really had in mind to get done. And what part we play in this? I guess we'll find out, if anything. I mean, this could all be just... our just reward, for having done everything else the universe wanted.

   But, it struck me hard. Because Napoleon was ignoring me. Because I had to wait, on him. Where does this all start? Go back, to the beginning. The very beginning.

   My mom. God's plan. Honey, sometimes that person you don't like? Will end up your best friend for life. Then? God punished me. Showed me what it was like on the other end. So, I went back and tried. It worked, if it was brief. But? I was primed. Then, Little Lightning. Which brings me Wiz. Then, it leads to her big case, for Wizzy and his crew. It leads to his death, like it led to my friend moving away. But... the whole big chain? And anything important we ever did, me and Panic. Anything important we have left to do.

   It all starts? With mom telling me one of those boring, bath time, hair brushing stories. And what did mom say. Maybe, honey. Its all part of god's big plan. Why don't you at least try that girl that likes you so much.

   God's big plan. Led me to... her, then Light, and Wiz. Then... wow. Here. I'm not here, with Panic, unless... Man, I gotta get mom some kind of huge present, one of these days. This? Is really all her doing, and she doesn't even know it. How many times, did I ever sit and moan. Why did I have to have a mom, that wanted to arrange my hair so pretty, just for bed. What's the point.

   So? Now I get it. I need this council. It, doesn't need me. I must need the patience. And? Napoleon, is always demonstrating it for me. He sits, and stares at the board. Trying to see it all. All right. Go with that. What is he teaching me? To, just sit and study it all. He even told me, hints, what needed to be done. So I won't win the battle, but lose the war. So I won't win the war, but lose that one big battle, that means so much. He wants me? To find it, whatever it is. So, I can win the battle and the war, both. Traitor, must be located. No, traitors. At least two.

   Joan, he said it. She was showing me what he was, I just don't get it. And whatever it is? Its staring me right in the face, I just don't see it. And Joan? Was doing magic tricks, like Panic does? But way better.

   Shit. What did Panic always say. Honey. Its usually the same trick, every time? It just looks more impressive. Its the same little trick. And? The trick, the best ones? Are all done, before the trick even starts. As far as you, the audience sees it.

   The bishop is already gone. And... the queen? The biggest, most important piece on the board. It needs to be moved a long ways away, from all the other pieces. I gotta figure out what those moves mean, but... I got a chance now.

   What did Panic say, on his hunches I made him spout and spurt. Little Robbie does well on hunches. Target? Works on hunches, instincts and gut feelings. Elise? Basically works magic, with nothing other than a finely honed radar of a gut. I've seen that shit work like a magic wand? Way too may times to discount that. You got Elise with you? You know when you're being watched. Before they strike? You know something's coming, because her early warning radar went off.

   Joan was doing magic tricks. Better than Panic's versions of the same tricks. But, Panic says they're all the same basic trick. So, he can figure out those huge tricks, by knowing how the basic one is performed.

   This... is all, some giant magic trick? But, its no more complicated, than one of Panic's very basic, entertain the boys, little tricks. Little Lightning. Her favorite movie? Wizard of Oz. There's this huge scary voice, all the flame and smoke, but... Panic knows the truth. Wiz knew it too.

   You peek behind the right curtain. Not so scary at all. Just some pussy somewhere. You just have to be able to isolate him, get him alone. Then? He's not very scary at all.

   Panic's early lesson. The outsider? Takes one look, at the big scary bully. This ain't scary. This whole place? Is a fucking cartoon. Punch the bully right in the mouth? Folds like a house of cards.

   Napoleon's big lesson. Its not about taking more pieces. Its about mating the king. Period. I took France, one of the biggest and most influential countries of the time. With nothing more than 12 good men, armed with sharp pointed sticks. And? They didn't even have to use them.

   Within minutes? I took an entire country, without a single drop of blood shed.

   Its about piece position, and timing.

   Napoleon is chuckling. He's not even looking up.

   I'm getting polite little claps from him.

   "Bravo, mademoiselle. You're finally starting to get it. I told you. You're up against? A bigger, more powerful army. But? An army, of brilliant imbeciles. You have everything you need? To put it all together. And remember. Position and timing? Mean more than all the power in the world."

   "But... this is a huge puzzle, I---"

   He went back to studying his chess board. He sighed. Dramatically loud.

   "I guess I'll go back to ignoring you, and studying the board. You were doing so much better, that way. I was almost impressed there, for a minute. And where, will you ever find a puzzle master. Mm."

   What a dick. But? I need this. I needed mom brushing my hair, just to get bed head hair. Or? I ended up with nothing.

   He spoke without looking up.

   "I took France? With 12 good men. Armed with essentially pointed sticks. You? Don't have to take and hold a whole country, or lead it afterwards. How hard do you really have it. You have everything, and everyone you need. Figure out the puzzle. Then? Its just position, and timing."

   He studied the board, I got ignored a little bit. Again, without looking up.

   "But? You've improved. I guess you need a performance, to be entertained. Enjoy."

   I shook my head, closed my eyes, and let my head sort of bonk down onto the table. When I picked my head up a moment later? It was just Joan. She was leaning, on her sword. Hilt supporting her chin. It was her bloody, golden sword. She was in her armor and cloak. Her hilt of her golden sword? Made a sign of the cross, just below her face. She winked at me. Touched her right eye, with her right index finger.

   After a while, she suddenly looked around, fearfully. Men came, and grabbed at her. Someone read something, off of a long scroll. They held the scroll out at to her, pointing at it. Someone held out a quill and ink for her. I guess to sign, to admit something. Some lie, no doubt.

   I couldn't hear. But there was no mistaking her response. She spit on the scroll, and seemed to be cussing them out. The men all had those big, I call them inquisition cloaks. The dark robes, with the big hoods. The seized her, and led her off. To the background, where there was a raised, something... oh, Christ no.

   Looked like town square, and this was going on at night. They took her back, around, and... yeah. She's got several winds of rope around her chest and arms, securing her to a big wooden post. There's already a thick pile of... oh, shit. The assholes in cloaks, tossed the torches onto the pile of... fuck me, there we go.

   I have to watch. Its a train wreck. What did Wizzy always say? Heard Panic say it too. And that's like Wizzy two point oh, just saying it over again. No good deed, goes unpunished. Yeah. I watch her burn, alive. It takes some time. Its not a pretty sight.

   Eventually? They're satisfied. The assholes in their big hooded cloaks file out, around and back down again. The fire? Is down to embers now. She's... cooked. They assemble, back in front where this all started, and... one steps forward.

   Fucker points right at me. Just stands there, indicating me.

   Then? He rips the hood and cloak off, and...

   Holy shit.

   Its Joan.

   Then? She sits down again. Just like she started. Napoleon is long gone, but his chessboard is there. She studies the board, musing. Her head, goes on her golden sword. A big cross under her face, from the hilt up into her chin again.

   She looks up, at me. She points at that piece she had moved. Smiles. Nods. Then, just to surprise the ever loving shit out of me, I guess... her hand disappears and she whips out, of all things. A handgun. Its the old fashioned kind. Looks like a tiny hand held revolutionary war musket, that kind. She cocks it, and...

   Points it right at me. Smiles. Winks. All I see is a puff of smoke, some yellow flame in it.

   My shoulder suddenly hurts.