Author's Note: This story takes place on the Plateau, about a year after Finn's arrival. Ned Malone has returned from his trek of self discovery, and is at last succeeding in his dream of a closer relationship with Veronica. And Marguerite has made it clear that she and John Roxton are finally committed to one another. They are just tiptoeing around when she will finally tell him that she will marry him, although both know that the day is fast coming. She has been coy with him long enough, and no one doubts that she is the future Countess of Avebury, as soon as she and Lord Roxton can reach a vicar to unite them in marriage. The women are holding a secret discussion on the balcony of the Treehouse, near the kitchen. They are curious about a project that the men are involved in, but which they refuse to reveal to their mates. And now, our story,which is rated about TV-14.(Some scenes may slightly exceed that classification, but there is no violence or actual sex.)
As ever, thanks to the copyright holders of the intellectual property of, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World syndicated TV show for the characters and the Treehouse setting. The author is grateful for their permisson to use these in fan fiction.
"The Pedestal"
by
Explorer
The Treehouse, Spring, 1923
"I swear, Vee, if you put some pressure on Ned, he'll tell you what they're up to." Finn was emphatic. "Hell, if you have to, look admiringly at him and kiss him really well a time or two. That's usually all that it takes to get guys to tell you what they know, especially if they think it'll impress you. So, go for it! Cozy up to Ned the Nerd and get me that answer. I'm, like, dying to know what's so damned mysterious that the Genius won't even discuss it with me."
Veronica Layton bristled slightly as she turned to face her close friend, the girl from New Amazonia, the woman of a century yet to come. "Finny, Ned is not a nerd, whatever that is! He's a swell fellow, and I like him better all the time. I think I was a fool to treat him like a brother or a friend, although he's sort of those to me, too. But he's more now that he's back from his little jaunt of discovery, and I'm not going to risk our relationship by getting too nosy about something that the other men have made him swear not to discuss."
Veronica brightened and swiveled, putting her back to the fence on the balcony outside the kitchen, where the three Treehouse women were holding a secret discussion in addition to their usual gossip session. "Marguerite, you were a spy, a double agent, in this war that you all say was so big. You're an international woman of mystery. You're even almost as seductive as you think you are. Men are probably usually putty in your hands. Why don't you get it out of John what they're building? Or, Challenger, himself! He thinks highly of you. He seems to consider you as almost an intellectual peer, which is rare for a mere human."
"Hey!" exclaimed Finn. "I'm a human, and he likes me!"
The other women laughed, and Marguerite Krux drawled, "Yes, I daresay that he does, Finnykins. He'd hardly share his bed and his brilliant mind, not to mention that powerful body if he wasn't quite taken with you. Not that I haven't seen it before: the barely postadolescent blonde bimbo, the seductive ingenue, and the older, distinguished, well-to-do gentleman of means. I was puzzled at first when you two moved in together. But I think I've figured it out. I know what appeals to each of you about the other." She tried to look blase, the other women knowing her well enough to realize that she was pretending boredom while hoping that she'd be asked to tell them more.
"Well?" asked an exasperated Finn."If you know so damned much, Marguerite, tell us just how I squirmed my way into the Genius's affection! I'm probably the first woman in decades to get his mind out of the lab some of the time and onto me. Hell, even his wife couldn't do that, not that I'm not ashamed that I'm intruding onto her rightful territory. George and I are going to have a big decision to make if we ever get off of this Plateau and he has to choose between me and Jessie." (She could not then have known that her rival had already died of flu in London in the winter of 1921, freeing Finn and George Challenger to marry before they would someday take ship for England, as we have seen in prior fics.)
Marguerite looked shrewdly at the younger blonde. "Nicole," she said, using Finn's real first name, "I think you summed it up rather well when you admitted that you 'squirmed' your way into his affection. I'm quite sure that you manipulate that superb body as skillfully as you have manipulated a man's sentiments. He'd have to be homosexual or asexual or just plain dead to ignore what you blatantly offered him a few months ago, and I don't doubt that much of your appeal to The Great Man is physical. But there's more. Don't snap at me yet; I'm not done. And I'm not really trying to insult you. I'm just being analytical. For one thing, I think he found it fulfilling to teach you to read. I feel sure that you can even write a real letter to him now, if you want. Ned told me last week that you've been pestering him to teach you to write a book, as laughable as that would have seemed when you arrived. I must say, your quaint, limited vocabulary has improved." She smirked, enjoying the effect that it had on the younger girl.
Finn looked coolly at Marguerite and said, "Yeah, my vocabulary is better. I even know the words to describe you now, Kruxlahoo. How about 'succubus' or 'termigant' ? They fit you like that 21st Century underwear that I taught you to design. Hey! There's another good word for you: 'seamstress.' " She pouted, her eyes sparking like a dry Zippo cigarette lighter, had such a thing existed in that day. (Zippo began making lighters about 10 years after the fic is set, in the 1930's.)
Marguerite stood with her arms crossed over her desirable bosom and was obviously about to reply in kind when Veronica stepped between the other women. "Ladies, this isn't getting us anywhere," she pointed out. "Let's make some tea. We can take some down to the men and see if it'll help us pry their precious secret out of them. Truth be told, I wonder too what they're up to. Seldom have they ever been so silent. They usually share their lives with us more than any other men whom I've known or heard about. Actually, they're really nice guys, and they must have some reason to be so private about their little woodcraft project."
"Tea does seem a civilized thought," conceded Marguerite. "Nicole, I'll apologize if you will. I was a bit tart, although I'm really just trying to tell you girls what it is about Finn other than your incandescent loins that attracted George to you. Do you want to hear this? I think I'm quite right, and the issue is a mildly complex one. I say, Veronica, have we any of the Darjeeling tea left?"
Finn subsided, asking, " Does, 'incandescent' mean what I think it does? Like, I'm Miss Hot Pants?"
Marguerite smiled like a cat that has just consumed a particuarly succulent canary. "Well, I wasn't factoring in your little black shorts, as brief as they are. But you otherwise have the right definition in mind."
Veronica failed to suppress a snorting laugh. "You girls kill me, figuratively speaking. Ned said last week that you two could do what he called a stand-up comedy routine at something called a vaudeville show. Some kind of stage performance. He said that you're funny enough for it. Look, Marguerite, we do have a little of that vacuum-packed Darjeeling left. I know you favor it. But George and John like a fuller tea, like the stuff we grow here, so similar to the best Ceylon tea. In fact, it was Ceylon tea plants that my parents found growing here so many years ago. Poor Dr. Summerlee analyzed them and concluded that they were the right sort, real tea, and the taste confirmed that the soil is similar to Ceylon's. So, do you want me to open that last sealed tin of Darjeeling, or will you settle for the Ceylon flavor?
They heard the clatter of a man's boots on the stairs and a moment later, Lord John Roxton strode into the kitchen. "Come out, wherever you are, girls. I know that you're lurking here, somewhere."
Finn's face lit up, brilliantly, if not quite incandescently. Roxton was her favorite man, other than his best friend, Challenger. She was close to him, having entered into an arrangement where she was much like an adoring little sister to the hunter and adventurer. They shared a love of fine firearms, and Finn hung on his every word as Roxton described his adventures on several continents. They were now the accepted primary hunting team when it was time to fill the meat larder, and Finn had quickly learned to stalk quietly, to wait patiently, and to shoot with precision markswomanship under his patient tutelage. She had also shown a great aptitude in learning jungle lore and the ways of wild animals. Frankly, their closeness worried Marguerite, although she had decided that Roxton probably saw her in different terms than he did the lithe blonde huntress whom he had grown to love in another way. Or, so Marguerite hoped, fervently. And, in truth, she had herself grown quite fond of the irreverent Finn. They had much in common.
They had talked about the matter of Roxton just once. Marguerite had decided that the right approach was to tell Finn that she trusted her with her man, and that if Finn was wise, she would prove worthy of that trust. "I make a good friend, but an awful enemy, Finnykins. Do I make myself clear? John is the world to me, and you can tempt any other man you want, probably successfully. But leave this one to me. Understand?"
Finn had regarded her carefully for a few seconds, then flashed that urchin grin that illuminated her face so delightfully. "Sure, Margie. But I 've already staked out a claim on the guy that I want that way. Johnny is like my brother or favorite, tolerant uncle. And my best male buddy. And he belongs with you, the way that you mean. And as much as it may astound you, I want you as my best friend. Except for Vee. She's my other best friend! I wouldn't poach a man off of either of you, unless you were maybe with the Genius. So, be cool in school, Marguerite. I'm not after Johnny. I love both of you. Shake?" She playfully extended a hand, and Marguerite, unable to avoid smiling, took the hand and squeezed it.
As the black-clad jungle vixen turned to go, Marguerite had called out to her. "Finn? Don't call me Margie. All right?"
Finn grinned. "Maybe. Promise not to call me an illiterate slut again? I heard you do that a couple of months ago when you were talking to Johnny about me moving in with the Genius. I didn't much like it. He calmed me down and I didn't say anything, but it fucking HURT! You'd go after the man who meant the world to you; why can't I?"
"Well, he is married, for one thing," observed Marguerite. "But I'll leave that to you, Jessie, and George to sort out. I suppose that Fate will determine the successful woman. But you told George what I said about you?" She flushed with shame.
Finn nodded. "He took it pretty well. Said not to confront you about it and that you'd get to know me better and you'd probably regret having said that. Marguerite, he is the most insightful, kind man..."
"Yes," said a subdued brunette Briton. "Finn, I most sincerely apologize, to you and to your lover and my best male friend. Sometimes, I speak in haste. And he was probably right: I do know you better now, and there is more to you than I thought. I expect that that explains why he was so cold to me for several days after I made that remark. He wouldn't even play chess with me. I thought he was just too intent on some project in the lab or merely tired. I'm glad that you told me that you overheard and repeated that comment. It explains much. And I do regret making it. If I can atone to you in some way, or to George..."
Finn grinned again. "You can sew me some sexy new lingerie. I'll be glad to get it and I'll wear it for the Genius. We'll both be happy and forgive you. Just from now on, needle fabric, and not me. Okay, girlfriend?" She looked meaningfully at the future Countess.
A blushing heiress nodded. And she and Finn had gotten along since, until her instincts had prompted her to needle Finn a little today...
'Hi, Johnny! We're out here, indulging in naughty girl talk. Hey: want tea? We're about to brew some." Finn went into the kitchen and hugged Roxton lightly as he ruffled her hair.
The other girls said hello as they, too, trickled into the kitchen, where Veronica drew water from the reservoir and lit a fire in the iron stove.
"I made cookies earlier," she told Roxton. "Oatmeal raisin, your and George's favorite. I think Ned's favorite is anything I bake." She blushed a little, feeling a warmth surge through her veins at the thought of the blond American reporter. I think I've fallen for Ned, and am silly to keep pretending that things aren't going to happen between us, real soon. Most things short of the main event have happened, and Neddy knows his way around a woman better than I'd realized. I wonder what he got up to on that journey of discovery?
Aloud, she said. "By the way, what are you guys making downstairs? I heard some sawing and nailing, and you seemed to be turning some wood to get it round on the improvised lathe. You aren't making a new table, are you? We could use one." She tried not to seem too curious. The other women looked at one another. Was the answer forthcoming? No man had yet told their hostess that the project was a secret. Finn and Marguerite busied themselves with pouring lemonade and setting out cookies, pointedly ignoring the conversation between Roxton and Veronica. Would the Earl of Avebury tell their friend what he had smugly hidden from them?
"Didn't the other girls tell you? That's a major secret." Roxton looked mildly amused, as if he knew full well that Veronica was trying to trick him into exposing the male plan.
"Well, I tried, girls," said the jungle princess with a wry smile. "Sorry, John. I had to make the attempt. It's inbred in women to try to ferret out male secrets. Look, do you want lemonade or tea? The latter will be ready in a few minutes. Marguerite, why don't you saunter down and tell the boys that this is on the table? They'll want to wash up before they eat."
"Me?" Marguerite was startled. "I was planning on talking to the Earl here."
Veronica took her friend by the arm and steered her to the stairs. "Because, Marguerite, you're more subtle. And because Finn is probably the one they're mainly keeping this from. It started with George and he looks craftily at Finny when the subject comes up. If anyone can get those men to talk, it's you. Be a good spy again and see what they'll let slip. But don't take too long; the tea will on the table soon. And John probably does want you by his side."
"Yes, all through life, or so he says. Dare I take a man at his word?" Marguerite winked at Veronica's rolled eyes and dashed down the stairs to notify the men of the impending refreshments.
Veronica sent Finn to the kitchen to check on the tea and asked Roxton if he could hone the edge of her favorite knife on his boot.
She passed him the Remington RH-36 that she had taken from the supplies left by a perished expedition that had been slain by a demon. (In the TV episode, "Suspicion".)
Roxton tested the edge with a thumb, and said, "Seems quite sharp now, but I'll see what I can do." He sat in a chair, leaned over, and stropped the blade carefully a few times on his tall boot and checked again.
"That should be quite satisfactory, I think. It's certainly as keen as my own knives, and I take great care to hone them right."
"It's terrific," agreed Veronica, testing the blade with a careful thumb. "John, what is all of this secrecy about what what you guys are making? It's not like you to be so unforthcoming. Is this about Finn? George looks at her and smiles when the subject comes up."
"George always smiles when he looks at Finny," teased the nobleman. "Most men would, I daresay. But especially him!" He laughed at her expression, then Finn was back.
"I poured the water in the kettle. We can serve in a few minutes. Hey, what are you doing with your knife out, Vee? Did you get Johnny to strop that blade on his boot? I want the same thing. Please, Johnny?" She looked at Roxton so admiringly that he sighed and reached for Finn's knife.
It was a Marble's Ideal model with a stag antler handle and a contoured Duralumin pommel/butt cap. Like Veronica's knife, it had a six-inch blade, and had come from the same source. When she had arrived, Finn had owned only a Swiss Army pocketknife, which she kept in a pouch riveted to her crossbow holster. Now that she had replaced the crossbow with a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver, she wore the Swiss knife in a hand tooled leather pouch on her gunbelt, along with the Marble's American-made hunting knife. Both the pouch for the pocketknife and the sturdy sheath for the Ideal were the skilled work of a certain Earl, her favorite hunting partner and surrogate big brother. Roxton had also sewn a little pouch for a whetstone onto the front of the Ideal's sheath, a nice touch and a way to keep a hone within easy reach.
As Roxton swiped the blade skilfully across his boot, both girls watched intently. "Why can't I do that on my boots?" wondered Veronica.
"The suede leather is too soft to work well," advised the gentleman adventurer. "And it takes skill and practice. I can probably teach Finn to do this. Her boots should be okay for it. When she wears them." He winked at Finn's bare legs, she being in sandals, as she often was while in the Treehouse. That just made her long, shapely legs more obvious, and Roxton reflected that it was hardly astonishing that those legs had caught Challenger's eye. He was impressed with them himself, if loyal to Marguerite. But it didn't hurt a man to admire pulchritude where he found it, as long as he kept his hands on his own woman. All three of the Treehouse women drew his eye; they were beautiful animate sculpture on the hoof!
"I'd better get the tea, or it'll steep too long," observed Veronica, and dashed for the kitchen.
"Uh, Johnny...how many 'c's' are there in 'succubus'?" Finn fidgeted a little, looking uneasy.
The Earl glanced sharply at her. "Two, but why do you want to know that? Where did you hear that word, anyway?" He was intrigued, and often fielded such requests from his "little sister" as she tried to become more sophisticated.
"Er, I sort of made a fool of myself earlier when I thought that Marguerite was insulting me, and I kind of called her that. Well, hell, I did say it. I want to write her a letter to apologize. But I want her to know that I can spell the word." She flushed crimson in her embarrassment, and Roxton thought that she was even more feminine and lovely than usual.
"I see," he said , trying to hide his amusement. "Well, the letter seems a good idea. I'll proofread it for you before you give it to her, or one of the other men will. You want it to be perfect. If anyone will carp about an error, that would be Marguerite." He winked at her and Finn grinned in relief.
Then, Marguerite led the other men into the dining room and Veronica arrived with the cookies. Finn took her knife back from John and thanked him as she tested the edge. It was sharper than one of the brunette's cutting remarks, but Finn decided not to use that analogy as she thanked Roxton, sheathed the knife, and began serving, beginning with the tall scientist whose love and patience lit her heart from within, an internal Bessemer furnace of the soul. But why wouldn't her hero tell her about that blasted wood project? Had she done something wrong? Were the men laughing at her behind her back?
But when Challenger took her hand briefly and kissed it as she poured his tea, Finn knew that he was not angry with her, and her heart beat faster and felt full. Gad, I have got it so bad for this man, she mused. I need to cut his hair again tomorrow. Maybe he'll feel like telling me something then.
CHAPTER TWO:
That night, Marguerite lay next to Roxton, talking, running their hands over one another affectionately, but not in raw passion, for they had already exhausted their lust some minutes before, and now looked forward to sleep.
"John, what is this silly secret that you men are hiding from the rest of us? We're a virtual family here, and the other girls and I are feeling left out of whatever this is. If you tell me, I can keep it to myself. This is something about Finn, isn't it? I see the sly, amused way that you chaps look at her when it comes up. She senses it and wonders if you're laughing at her. That's mean of you."
The Earl smiled and played with his love's hair. "I don't dare tell you, Marguerite. Do you know the three fastest forms of communication?"
"No, what the devil has that to do with this issue? But I suppose the radio and the telegraph. What else? The Indian drums that the Zanga signal with? The heliograph? The point is, you aren't communicating about this at all!"
Roxton chuckled and kissed her. "The three fastest forms of communication are the telephone, the telegraph and tell-a-woman. If I let you in on the secret, the other women will know almost at once."
"Well, that's pretty chauvinist! I suppose that's a joke, but one at which only men will laugh! Why is it important to have this silly secret at all?"
"For one thing, it makes you curious, and you're beautiful and intriguing when you want to worm something from me. Look, Marguerite: if I do tell you what's going on, will you swear to me that you wiil not tell anyone? Especially the other women? And don't let them know that you know, either. That will just cause problems all around. The lads will not trust me again, and the women will think less of both of us for putting you above the other girls. Do you understand?"
"Yes, John, but I have done a good job of keeping our nation's secrets and my own, have I not? Don't you think that I can keep a secret from two blondes?"
Roxton thought. "At one time, it would be natural for you to hide things. But those were serious issues for you. And now, you have become one of us. You have achieved a sense of sisterhood and loyalty to Veronica and to Finn. You may have even bet them that you can weasel the forbidden knowledge from me. Did you do that? That would be a definite violation of trust between us. It may be a game for you girls, but George and Ned will not see it that way. They will see me as having violated their trust. I'm quite sure that Veronica is trying her best to get Ned to talk, and if he won't, neither can I."
"John, I swear on my soul - what's left of it - that I will keep your confidence! And I will not let on that I know. But this is driving me crazy. What will you charge to tell me about this infernal male plot? I'm very open to suggestions. Maybe if I sew you a new shirt?" She decided not to tell him that the girls were already planning to sew in a few days. Why waste useful knowledge?
He rolled over and rubbed noses with her. "That's a good start. Make it another blue one like I usually wear. But I don't sell secrets so cheaply, even for a shirt sewn by the most glamorous woman on Earth. I demand more for such privileged information, in addition to your absolute oath to keep this between us."
"All right, John. You have my solemn oath. I already offered that. What else do you want?"
He pulled her next to him and whispered into her ear. Marguerite blushed, which she found herself still able to do on occasion. In fact, she was quite sure that the Earl delighted in trying to embarrass her to that degree. He had some ridiculous theory that she looked especially lovely when her cheeks were pink!
"I should have known!" she muttered. "Men are so predictable. You want this now? I thought you were tired."
"No, " said Roxton. "Wait until morning, then wake me and I'll tell you the mighty secret, upon receipt of which you will do what I asked, with consummate skill. It'll be a good way to get me going, to face the day. But Marguerite, I really mean it about no one but us knowing about this. It would violate our trust with all of our friends. Only for you would I even consider discussing the matter."
"Come to think of it, why me?" Marguerite was puzzled. "You are usually totally a man of your word, I must admit. It's one of the things that I admire about you. You're not doing this just to get, well, what you asked for. I often do that for you, anyway, if you keep me happy."
Marguerite had begun to wonder what Roxton's motive actually was. As a schemer herself, she was always suspicious of others' intentions.
"Well, I suppose the main reason that I'll tell is that I love you and I want this to be something that we alone share. It makes me feel closer to you, and I want that, even more than I want what I asked for. Mind you, I do expect your best efforts in that, too." He laughed and pulled her hair.
"Oh, John," she responded. "That is sweet of you. You can't possibly realize just how much it means to me to have someone who feels that way. To be able to share things with just you, and know that you will also keep my confidences. Thank you for saying that. And you will indeed find out just how well I can perform the intimate little service that you demanded. Not that you don't already know my talents in that area! But I'll make a special effort in the morning, just because you said what you did, and it means so much to me to share with you."
He kissed her tenderly and caressed her bare body, more to comfort her and tell her how much he cared than to arouse her. "Good night, Princess," he murmured. "I'll see you in the morning, and then you alone of the women here will know the truth about George's little wood shop project."
Marguerite had almost drifted off when she thought again of what it must have cost John to make this concession to her, that they might share his secret. She smiled as sleep took her. It was wonderful not to be spiritually alone, for the first time in her life!
Down the hall from the Roxtons, the Challengers lay quietly, until Finn decided that George had gone to sleep. She had not been able to wheedle the secret from him, and he was clearly amused by her attempts. She had hugged him goodnight, anyway, and snuggled next to him and pretended to sleep until she sensed that he was in dreamland.
Softly, she slipped from bed and dressed, picking up her gunbelt and boots before tiptoeing from their room. In the den, she sat in a big wicker chair and donned her boots, then stood to buckle the black leather belt with her .38 and hunting knife. Then, she stole quietly to the elevator.
She stood there, vacillating over whether she could ride it down without waking anyone. Then, something occurred to her and nagged at her conscience...
"Ahem!" said Veronica just loudly enough to make Finn jump and look at her in alarm. Veronica ran lightly downstairs and joined Finn at the elevator. She wore sandals and had thrown on a cornflower blue cotton robe when she'd heard Finn slipping down the hall.
Now, she folded her arms across her shapely bosom and tapped a foot, trying to create the right effect without indulging in excessive drama.
Trying not to smile openly, she asked, "Going somewhere, were we?"
"Oh, hi, Vee! I was just restless and thought I'd walk around downstairs. I'll stay inside the fence."
Veronica didn't smile now. "Finny, were you just possibly going to lift the tarpaulin from that wood sculpture and see what the fellows have been making? What would George think of you if you do that? Wouldn't he feel that you'd violated his confidence? Is your curiosity so overpowering that it's worth making George think that he can't trust you? If you want to be Mrs. Challenger someday, you'd better think about that. He is a critical man in some respects and he loves you more than he ever felt that he could care for a woman. Don't waste the relationship that you've worked so hard to have!"
Finn nodded. "You're right, Vee. I was just thinking about that when you came down. Look, do you want a cup of cocoa? I could use one, then I think I'd better get my cute little butt back in bed before I'm missed." She look imploringly at her friend.
Veronica thought, then nodded. "Come on, Finny. Let's make the cocoa and talk. I want to discuss some other things with you, too, and ask more about how you got by in New Amazonia. Maybe I can learn something useful from you, although I hope that what happened there won't ever happen if we find a way to prevent it."
Finn nodded and they were soon boiling water and getting the cocoa powder ready. It was as they got down cups that Challenger walked into the kitchen. He was dressed and his Colt .45 revolver was stuffed in his belt. He held his rechargable flashlight, one of his favorite inventions. He stood looking at the blondes and began to tap his palm with the flashlight, looking speculatively at the girls.
Veronica rose to the interruption adroitly, looking only mildly surprised. "Oh, hello, George. Couldn't you sleep, either? We're making hot chocolate. Want some?"
Challenger regarded them thoughtfully and said, "I missed Finn. Is everything well, Darling? Why the boots? Have you been down
to see my little sculpture?" He looked disappointed and a bit drawn.
Finn looked guilty. "I thought about it but decided that it wasn't worth risking your faith in me. I've worked hard to gain that, and it hit me at the elevator that it isn't worth upsetting you by sneaking around to do something that would disappoint or anger you if I'd done it. I swear, Genius, I changed my mind. I don't want to ever have you doubt me if you say not to do something. And frankly, my conscience jabbed me pretty hard when I thought about it. Then Vee came down and we decided to have cocoa and go back to bed. Please forgive me for even thinking about this. I've just got the usual female curiosity and it almost got the better of me. But I swear to you that I changed my mind and I definitely haven't gone down to look. Believe me?" She looked sad, contrite and a little desperate.
Veronica felt a wave of sympathy sweep over her and added, "George, she's telling the truth. I came down right after her and she was already turning away from the elevator. Cut her a little slack, as Ned says. We women just have urges like that. I'm proud of her for deciding to do the right thing. That was hard for a girl. Our genes are wired to do stuff lke that; we're natural snoops. Really."
She looked embarrassed but sincere, decided the tall scientist. "Might I share the cocoa?" he asked. "If I've been gotten up to worry about Finn, I may as well get something for my effort in rising and coming down to investigate. Of course, if you girls were about to indulge in a women -only converation, I can fend for myself and take my cup to another room."
"No!" exclaimed Finn. "I mean, is it okay if George stays, Vee? We were mainly going to talk about my time in New Amazonia and how I did some things to get by. You've heard most of it anyway, and I want to share. Telling you and my best female friend helps me to get some of the past out of my system. Please stay, Vee, and you, Genius. I kind of need my friends tonight. I was headed toward another nightmare when I got up and came down here." She shuffled her feet self-conciously and looked anxious.
"Well, if you need to talk and want a female ear, too, I'll happily join you girls and be happy if Veronica remains, too. Is my favorite blue cup clean?" The resident genius looked carefully at his love and sensed that she was desperate to have him hear her out. And to have him accept that she had not gone down to see what he was crafting for her!
"If it isn't, I'll wash it," said Finn, springing gracefully to look in the cupboard. She found the cup, showed Challenger with a smile, and found spoons as Veronica poured the hot chocolate into the three cups and took them to the nearby table on a silver tray. She added some cornmeal cupcakes that she had baked earlier.
And they talked for an hour and all learned more than expected about the others. Finn unburdened herself of some secrets that she had harbored, things that haunted her and some of which she was ashamed. She found not scorn, but love and support from both her man and her best friend, and felt better for it.
Finally, they took the cups and saucers to the sink and Veronica hugged both Challengers and bade them get back to bed. "I'll clean up here and see you in the morning," she promised and shoved them toward the stairs. "Hey!" she called. "I love you two. Take care of each other!"
Challenger smiled, nodded, took Finn's hand and led her up to their room.
When they arrived, they undressed and were getting back into bed when a nervous Finn asked, "So, Genius, how mad at me are you? I swear that I had really changed my mind just before Vee came down and told me to. She guessed what I was planning. And she's right about female curiosity. But one thing you've taught me is to grow a conscience. Mine was kind on vacation for a lot of my life. You guys here, especially you, have brought my conscience out of hibernation. You've given me a new set of values, and I'm thankful. I just wish that I had the words to tell you how grateful I am for being able to know you and to learn from you, George. You probably saved my life in more than one way. So, I'm like, having major guilt issues right now. But I did decide not to go look."
"You brat!" he answered. He sounded half exasperated, half amused. "Finn, I should have known that you'd be naughty about this. I probably ought to spank you, young lady. You nearly did betray my trust. And it scared me to find you missing when I woke, and not just in the loo."
Finn, startled, hesitated as she considered the matter. Then she touched his arm, looked into his eyes, and said, "If that's what you think I deserve, put me over your knee and let me have as many strokes as you think I should get. I mean that, Genius. It'd be a cheap price to pay to get your forgiveness and your love back. I want you to keep me, and I promise I'll never again do anything to endanger your faith in me. I can't stand the thought that I might lose you over my being so dumb tonight! Please, Lover?"
Challenger considered. "Well, perhaps it doesn't quite deserve a spanking, but don't worry me that way again, or sneak around on me. And you have certainly not lost my love. Love must be able to endure such things as this, or far worse. But I would like it if you'd cut my hair again this afternoon. It's getting to the point that that's indicated. I was rather scruffy until you began barbering me. Probably had the mad scientist look about me."
Finn smiled. "I was going to suggest cutting your hair, anyway. So, I can trade a spanking for a haircut and we're okay again? If you're upset enough, you can always spank me and get a haircut, too. I want to be totally your woman, and not be in the doghouse over this. Vee says that Ned sulks if she gets him mad, and that she'd rather he just paddle her or yell at her if she really has it coming, which isn't often. She's so smart and so sweet! Sometimes, I wish that I was more like her. I know that I've improved since I got here, though."
Challenger chuckled. "Indeed you have, Finn. And you have brought out a more human side of me that was for too long repressed. Consider the matter in the past. You have apologized and I know how strong the urge to snoop is among women. I have had some experience of it, and John Roxton warned me to expect that on your part and probably, that of the other ladies here. If any man knows women, it is surely John. Now, roll over and let's try to sleep. It's two in the morning!"
Finn squirmed close to him and snuggled along his front. "G'night, Lover. And thanks for being so reasonable about this."
Challenger leaned forward slightly, raised her hair, and kissed her neck. He had nearly fallen asleep again when he felt Finn lift his right arm and place it around her waist. She adjusted her position slightly and sighed softly as she slipped into slumber.
But Challenger lay awake a bit longer, marvelling at Finn's insecurity in thinking that he might actually withdraw his love over this girlish prank. He had not really meant it when he threatened to spank her. But she was so desperate to have his acceptance that she had offered to go over his lap, and seemed relieved that he had not enforced that option, admittedly one not uncommon for men to exercise in marriage in those days. Still, it would take more provocation than this for him to really spank the girl, although he was considerably disappointed to think that she might violate his order to stay away from his little construction project. He was glad that she had reconsidered. He wondered what would have happened had Veronica not surprised Finn, then decided that he didn't want to know. Still, having discovered how fragile her ego was on this level, he resolved to build her trust in him and in their love until Finn finally accepted herself as being worthy of him, distinguished scientific icon and all. Fate had brought him this lovely girl and her infectious, wry, sometimes ribald pesonality and her zest for life. He had gradually realized just how insecure she was inside, despite being very self confident in other ways. He smiled as he thought how much his project might mean to her, and hoped that it would warm her heart and her soul, as she so warmed his own.
CHAPTER THREE:
Morning dawned clear and cooler than usual, with no haze to spoil the view from the Treehouse. Finn looked out, opening the wooden door that secured their room against night predators. They had to be ever vigilant, lest a snake or some flying or creeping creature reach them even in the boughs of this massive tree. She was so overjoyed at the view that she got out the Carl Zeiss 8X30 binocular that she had claimed from the extra supplies left by perished expeditions and surveyed the landscape from the balcony as Challenger rose and brushed his hair.
She followed a harpy eagle as it glided past, probably seeking a careless monkey for breakfast. These large avian predators enchanted her, as did the even larger pterodactyls and the dinosaurs on the ground. She had found the latter to be far more real than she had expected when intially told on leaving New Amazonia that the Plateau still hosted an array of them. She heard the throaty rattle of an angry jaguar that had likely missed a pounce at a deer or encountered traces of a rival cat on its turf. She shuddered and resolved to take a rifle when she and the other girls swam that afteroon. She stepped onto the balcony to get a wider view, the binocular strap now around her neck.
"Finn, get back in here and put on some clothes before someone steps out of their room and sees you," called her scientist mentor. Finn wore just black bikini panties, styled in the manner of a more advanced century. The couple had met in the year 2033, and each was still adjusting to the differences in their times. Challenger was still intrigued and baffled as to how he and the Roxtons had gotten briefly into New Amazonia, and Finn was thankful to have regressed to 1922 with the others, narrowly evading the slavers pursuing her. But the secret of time travel in that cave, for that one occasion, was lost with the cave, probably still hurtling back into primeval eons. He mentally blessed their having been able to get off into their own day, near the Treehouse!
"You already see me, " she teased. "and you seem to kinda like it." She posed and preened for his viewing pleasure as he shook his head in mock dismay and laughed at her antics. She moved a shoulder abruptly, a practiced gesture that caused her pert breasts to twitch in a way that fascinated and aroused any man lucky enough to see it.
Then she set aside the expensive German binocular, carefully secured it in its russet leather case, and came into his arms. "I love holding you this way," she murmured, "and feeling so engulfed in your arms. If I had to be frozen in time in any one posture, I think I'd choose this one. Or, maybe the way I curl up next to you at night. One or the other."
Challenger laughed. "I should have guessed that you'd prefer to be frozen for all time while shooting a gun or cleaning it or while fishing or using that binocular. Or perhaps learning to write or reading a book, now that you can! When I think of you, you often come to mind in one or another of those situations."
"Hey," she teased, "at least, I have identifiable passions. But unlax, Lover. One of my main passions is you, and what you do to me here in this room when we're alone."
The tall, ginger-bearded man laughed. "I should hope that we might be alone! I have no intention of doing such things before an audience, however much Marguerite taunts you for being what she calls an exhibitionist."
Finn smiled wickedly. "If she was blonde and as fancy free as I am, she might be more of an exhibitionist, herself. She plays prissy, but she's loosening up. She sometimes forgets to be reserved and really enjoys herself. I think that admitting that she and Johnny are really together instead of dancing around it has helped her to relax and live life in a fuller way. Am I saying that right? I'm trying to tend toward more perfect and refined speech, per Ned's instructions. So, like, I have to use less slang from my time. It mostly just confuses everyone, anyway." She made a face.
Challenger assured her that her unique expressions had come to be part of what he loved about her. "Indeed, it is intriguing to reflect on how speech will change in the hundred or so years between us."
She grinned that luminous smile that ignited her entire face, as if a powerful incandescent bulb was within her graceful skull. "There may be about a hundred years between us, Genius, or there was. But there's not gonna be much space. I'm clinging to you from now on like we were bonded with that Super Glue stuff that I told you about. When I'm not with you, I feel incomplete, however much I love walking in the jungle with the girls or Johnny. I always find myself wondering what you're doing, and if Vee or Marguerite is taking good care of you while I'm gone."
"Oh, balderdash!" he exclaimed. "I don't need those girls to tend to me. I got along fine here without a woman to nurture me, other than when Marguerite absolutely insisted that I sit still long enough for her to cut my hair before I looked like some Yankee graybeard that Ned says was called Rip van Winkle in some absurd American folk yarn. Blasted chap was supposed to have slept under a tree for a hundred years, as I recall. But I must say, having been exposed to your tender ministerations, I have become quite accustomed to them. I should deeply miss what you do for me, now that I have come to appreciate your attentions. They make me feel more full, as you say, more complete. You know what would make me feel even more complete? Breakast! Here, put these on, and your top and sandals. I'm famished."
He handed her her a lace-trimmed bra and the brief black shorts that exposed her well toned legs so well while displaying them for the visual delight of himself and any other man within viewing range. He had grown quite fond of seeing them, having gradually gotten over his Victorian reluctance to see a respectable woman so revealed. Well, Queen Victoria had been gone since 1902 and he needed to accustom himself to a new era, if not on the whole as modern as that which had produced his bedmate and lab companion.
"Good idea, George," she agreed, stepping into the hot pants (as such shorts were called by fashion writers in the late 20th Century), holding onto his arm to avoid stumbling. "I'm starved, too. Let's beat feet down to the table. With luck, Vee and Ned have already got eggs frying. You can't imagine how much that means to me, to know that we have eggs and toast and orange juice and that devine coffee here instead of just dreaming that we had it so good." She shivered, not from cold in the humid tropical day. "I never want to be back in New Amazonia again in my life, with the running nightmare that I lived there most of the time. Here, hand me my top. If we don't get down there, Vee will yell that she's throwing breakfast to the raptors. I don't even want to joke about that!"
CHAPTER FOUR:
Moments later, the couple strolled hand-in-hand down the stairs.
Marguerite saw them coming and called to the Malones in the kitchen, "Here they come now, Veronica. Two more for scrambled.
At least, they like their eggs the same way. I never know whether Roxton is going to want poached, boiled, or over easy."
She sipped coffee as her man smiled smugly and said, "I like keeping you on your toes, madam. It doesn't do, letting a woman take me for granted."
She set down the cup and looked frankly at him, no longer smiling. "No, John. I don't do that. I have my faults, but I swear that I will never take you for granted. You have become almost miraculous for me to have, and you will not need to fear being taken lightly. Just stay around and I will make you the most appreciated man in history, the one least taken for granted. "
"No, you won't," razzed Finn as she passed, jerking the brunette's hair. "That's my job, to make the Genius feel the most appreciated man in history. And I'm going to do it, however close you come with Johnny. But give it your best effort, Kruxlahoo. He's a cool guy and he deserves your full talents, such as they may be."
Marguerite responded tartly: "Finn, I rather think that my feeble talents must surely eclipse anything that a mere blonde can manage for her man! Brunettes are highly underrated! If you doubt that, ask John. On second thought, don't ask him. I'd blush for a week if he revealed what I do to entertain him, and you'd relish hearing about it too much. Besides, your childish ears would burn from shame!" Marguerite was sensitive about the 22-year-old Finn being her junior by a decade. She tried to think of herself as matured and perfected. And she was pretty sure that Lord John Roxton would agree, if he considered the matter. He better had, if he knew what was good for him!
Veronica threw Marguerite an exasperated look. "Give it a rest, Kruxlahoo. Come on, Finny, let's get breakfast out here before it's time for supper. Ned and I have some things to do today before we swim. George, are you and the Earl going to work on your little mystery project that's verboten for female ears?"
"Even for really great-looking female ears like ours?" teased Finn. "Hey, what's 'verboten' mean, anyway?"
"It means 'forbidden', in English," drawled Miss Krux. "But don't worry it about it, Finny. You need to master proper English before you worry about German." She leaned forward on the table and stuck out her tongue tauntingly at the young blonde. She looked pleased with herself.
"Marguerite, that will be enough for now, please," said Challenger. He cut his eyes at Roxton, who nodded and took Marguerite's hand to let her know that it was time to ease off on the blondes.
"What are you doing today?" he asked, and Marguerite stammered and decided that she'd help the other girls to clean house and make lunch. "But I'll sew your shirt too," she promised.
And so the morning went, and lunch was past and the ladies got towels and shanghied Ned Malone into accompanying them on their bi-weekly swimming expedition. Ned was good natured about it, telling Veronica that he wanted some private time with her while they were gone.
Finn grinned at Roxton and quipped, "Oh, good. That will give me some private time with Marguerite, too. Don't worry, Johnny; I won't drown her. Probably..."
Roxton shook his head in feigned frustration and told the girls to play nice. "Take a rifle, Finn. I trust Ned to protect you ladies, but he may need help if circumstances require it."
Finn nodded, went to the gun rack in the living room, and returned with her Mannlicher-Schoenauer 6.5mm carbine and a leather bandolier of cartridges slung over her chest. She picked up the satchel with her spare clothes, towel, a snack, her canteen, and some suntan oil that Challenger wanted them to try, to protect them against the tropical glare. She already wore her gunbelt and boots.
She said, "All set, Vee". Then, she looked mischievously at Marguerite and whistled, as if summoning a dog. "Come, Marguerite. Good girl!"
And they were off, Marguerite giving John a look that said she that was too impressed with Finn's barb to strike back. For now... "Bow, wow," she said dryly, kissed Roxton, and stepped into the elevator with Veronica, leaving Finn and Ned to take it down on the next trip.
CHAPTER FIVE:
When the swimmers returned that afternoon, they were exhuberant, happily talking of the fun they'd had and a run-in with a 12-foot long black caiman that had chased them for several yards before Ned's .450 Nitro Express rifle had put a stop to the reptile's pursuit. (Caimans, unique to South America, are intermediate between crocodiles and alligators. In Brazil, they are often called, "jacare.")
Roxton suggested that they sit down to cookies and tea and share how their day had gone. He noticed that Finn and Marguerite were talking happily, and Finn told the brunette to be seated by her man while she and Veronica served.
Marguerite looked surprised, but thanked her and joined John Roxton and George Challenger at the table. The men looked rather smug, and Marguerite asked why.
"Be patient, and all knowledge shall come to you," joked Roxton.
"It never has," she replied, "not all knowledge comes even to George!"
But as they talked about the swimming trip and what the two older men had done, it was revealed that the surprise had been completed.
"If you'll all join Finn and me in our room as soon as we finish, I'll reveal what we've been making," announced Challenger.
Finn's face lit up and she urged everyone to finish their tea. "This better be good," she warned. "You guys have about used up my curiosity quota for this week."
Soon, the whole crew gathered in the Challenger room and George pointed out a pedestal about 18 inches high, of well finished tropical hardwood with a beautiful color, with darker streaks on a lighter orange-toned background. The late Dr. Arthur Summerlee, their botantist, had once told them that the wood was known scientifcally as Goncala alves.
There was an inlaid rubber pad in the top, salvaged from an old mat that they'd found in a storage shed on the Treehouse grounds. The new furniture looked very tasteful, but Finn gazed at it uncomprehendingly.
"What's it for, Genius?" she wanted to know. "Are we going to put a potted plant in here, or what?"
"Not quite," smiled the scientist. He picked up his lady and set the astonished blonde atop the pedestal as Roxton and Malone smiled tolerantly. Finn saw Marguerite grinning like a Cheshire cat, too, and wondered what was going on.
"Okay, why exactly am I up here? " demanded Finn. "Not that my nose is bleeding from the altitude or anything, but I'd appreciate it if you guys would shed some light on this."
"My dear," announced Challenger, " I have been distressed at times when you had nightmares or doubted your worth, especially after you realized that you were lacking in sophistication compared to the rest of us. But you are coming along nicely, and I wanted to show you that I have you ever on a pedestal in my heart, and now, when you do something that makes me especially proud of you, or just doubt yourself, I can place you on this literal pedestal to show how much I love you. And some nights, I plan to put you up there just to remind you that you are forever cherished, every day."
He beamed with such pride that Finn's heart felt swollen with emotion as she wiped a tear from an eye and leaned over and hugged George as if she wanted to pull herself into him.
After a moment, he lifted her down gently and held her tightly as he stroked her hair and she cried into his chest. "George, you dope, this is ridiculous! Whatever got into you? I'm so embarrassed..."
Marguerite stepped forward and patted Finn on the shoulder. "No worries, Finny. This is a lovely expression of a man's love and you deserve it. If Veronica and I had known about this, I think we'd both have helped to make this silly thing. It's so well made, and it so much expresses how George feels about you! Don't be embarrassed. Be proud and happy. He was looking for a way to tell you how much he cares, and now, he can just set you up there and smile at you and say more than most men ever try to tell their women! How nice of you, George! Why has that man Roxton not done this for me?"
Roxton laughed. "You already have enough self esteem, Marguerite. If I put you on a pedestal, your nose would be so high in the air that you might suffer oxygen deprivation. But really, Darling, I do have you on a pedestal in my heart and in my mind. Otherwise, I'd never have proposed to you."
"Proposed what to her?" teased Veronica. "Do you mean proposed or propositioned?"
"Oh he has offered both," drawled the brunette beauty. "I may give him an answer soon about the proposal. His propositions have already fallen on fertile ground, which is why he smiles so much of late. But Finny, honestly, this was a truly sweet gesture from George. He must think even more of you than I'd realized."
"Exactly right, Marguerite," conceded the tall scientist. "I am an articulate man, but despaired of a way to tell Finn how much I cherish her. Now, I need only lift her up there and she'll know that I always have her on a pedestal!"
"I don't know what to say," murmured Finn, leaning into her mate's powerful body. "This just sweeps me off of my feet, Lover. You silly man! I love you so much!" And she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.
"I could get to like this," Finn conceded. "Thanks, guys! I feel pretty good up there, if a little funny. Maybe I'll get used to it, and Johnny and Ned, if your girls do something that you think is really cool, you can put them up there, too. I don't know what to say about this except thanks. I feel really good, especially that the Genius thought of it."
"I am a genius, literally," admitted Challenger modestly, "but I have you to thank for the inspiration, Finn. Enjoy your visits up there, and may they be many."
CHAPTER SIX:
In bed that night, Finn, who had been placed again on the pedestal in private, told George that she still thought the new item in their room was a bit silly. "But girls are silly, too, Lover, and I kind of like it. Maybe a whole lot. What got to me was the look on Marguerite's face, like she was really glad for me to have this, to know that you cared enough to make it for me. Really, everyone else seemed to like it, too, and Vee told me later that it was really romantic. I think so, too. So, thanks for thinking of this, and I love it. I just hope I deserve to be placed up there pretty often. You deserve to get some use out of me on it." She giggled, delighted at the way her friends had congratulated her on winning Challenger's love and his expression of it.
The Challengers slept well that night, and Finn insisted on making George's breakfast the next morning. Later, they went fishing and Finn caught a peacock pavon so large that it earned her a place on the pedestal, Roxton especially congratulating her on her angling skill and luck.
The idea must have been worth the effort involved in the project, for years later, in their homes in Kent and in London, the professor had similar pedestals made for Finn, by then his wife. And now you know the story of the first Challenger pedestal, and the love it expressed.
Ladies, may you find a man who so admires you that you get your own pedestal! And if you do, think of Finn Challenger and how delighted she was to get one. It made her feel less alone in the lost world. And that was a good feeling!
The End