"Single Whip!"

"Part the Wild Horse's Mane!"

Nana Spicer ignored the commotion behind her to concentrate on her fishing. She was enjoying the cruise but after a while she had to pick up a hobby and she had never been the knitting sort.

"Golden Cock Stands on One Leg!"

The two fighting figures behind her paused to giggle.

"You said 'cock'," Jack sniggered.

"I know," RJ 13 returned, still in his Tai Chi pose. "I guess that makes me the 'Mechanical Golden Cock'."

Jack guffawed rudely.

His robot minion caught the front of his shirt while he was distracted and hurled him the far side of the deck.

"Don't let your guard down, Master!"


Chase Young sat down at his dinner table, overloaded with delicious foods, and considered his company.

A black teddy bear sat in the opposite chair, boosted up on a box.

The dragon lord wondered which one of his warriors was trying to make a point this time.

The toy was, of course, Jackbear. Chase had tried to rid himself of the lethal teddy many times, but some part of his psyche screamed in protest at the thought of actually destroying the thing and no matter how far away he threw it, one of the jungle cats would drag it back in and leave it where he couldn't help seeing it.

He got the point; truly he did.

Jack had been loyal to him, saved him, protected him from his enemies and for a reward, Chase had thrown him out and cursed him. Even for an evil, ancient dragon lord, Chase had to admit that was . . . . less than fair.

"You may stop with the bear," he said out loud. "I will go to see Spicer tomorrow and offer him a proper reward."

Pleased noises rose from the shadows where his warriors lurked. Snorting softly, Chase turned his attention back to his meal. Truthfully, he was planning on approaching Spicer when he next saw the youth for some sort of compensation, but he simply hadn't seen Jack.

Spicer hadn't been to any Showdowns, hadn't raided the Xiaolin Temple, and even Chase's spying crows had seen no sign of movement in Jack's 'evil lair'.

Chase frowned slightly.

The little fool wouldn't have done anything stupid, would he?

If Jack hadn't been seen since Chase had returned to normal . . . . gods, that had been three months ago.


"Hallo there! I say, could you lend a bit of assistance?!" Sir Gerald called to the approaching ship. "We seem to have lost power!"

An elderly woman on the bow waved to him and then appeared to steer alongside with nothing more than a video-game style joystick.

"You lost, sweetie?" she inquired, smiling at the handsome young lord in what was not quite a leer.

"Oh, not quite, madam. My engine has lost all power and I'm afraid even my instruments have gone dead. Thank God for the sails or I would have been completely stranded."

"Oh, well, a handsome young man by yourself out here all alone? That's a recipe for trouble you know," she said with a grin. "I'm sure we could work out some sort of trade—"

"Stone Monkey Iron Fist Strike!"

"Drunken Monkey Falls on his Ass!"

Sir Gerald looked over and his breath caught in his throat. Tumbling out of the cabin came a pair of absolutely beautiful twin youths. Their skin was the purest white, their hair dyed a fiery red, their eyes glittering like rubies. The pair sparred in martial arts, leaping and tumbling across the deck like acrobats.

"Tall Monkey Heel Strike!" One of the twins – one with slightly shorter hair and what appeared to be a facial tattoo – brought one leg up high in a heel strike.

"Crafty Monkey Pretends to Piss His Pants!" The other yowled, curling into a ball at his brother's feet.

The standing twin snorted with laughter, closing his eyes just long enough for the prone twin to bring one leg around in a kick to his brother's ankle while the other leg slammed into the back of his knee with punishing force. The standing twin went down in a heap.

The prone twin quickly spun and landed on his brother's back.

"Now who needs to keep his guard up, smartass?!" The triumphant twin demanded.

"Our Jackie! Think you could lend this lovely young man some assistance?" The old woman called out sweetly. "He's having problems with his engine."

The triumphant twin looked up at Sir Gerald.

'Jack,' the young lord thought. 'I shall remember that name.'

In the space of a second, Jack was up and running across the deck. He put one booted foot on the railing and flipped easily over the short gap between the two yachts.

He landed and spun back towards his brother, a wrench appearing in either hand as if by magic.

"Ho, unworthy opponent! Now I school you in my mad tech-fu skillz!"

The twin with the tattoo laughed.

"I am mad tech-fu skillz!" he protested, following Jack.

Sir Gerald couldn't help but notice the deck heaved a lot more when the second twin leaped aboard, which made no sense. If anything, young Jack had more muscle definition than his brother.

The twins ran below decks, still laughing and trading barbs.

Sir Gerald cast a look at the old woman, then went below himself.


After a while, RoboJack 13 came back up and hopped back aboard The Spice of Life. The android went to a large cooler in front of the cabin, dug through Nana's beer and Jack's sports drinks until he found a small bottle of engine coolant. RJ 13 popped it open and drank it down in long swallows.

"Where's Our Jackie?" Nana asked.

RJ nodded back towards the other boat.

"Sir Gerald is thanking him." The slight emphasis on 'thanking' said everything it needed to.

Nana Spicer's brows rose.

"Thanking him? Why are the pretty ones always gay?" She sighed. "I'm surprised he didn't want to thank both of you."

"He did," RJ 13 said, tossing the bottle into the bin and digging through the cooler for another one.

"And you weren't bang along side that?" Nana asked. She had a very hard time believing the perverted robot passed up anything having to do with sex.

RoboJack Unit 13 gave his maker's grandmother an affronted look.

"I'm not gay!"


Chase Young was not one to prevaricate. The next morning, after his breakfast and training, when he had dawdled long enough to have the warrior cats giving him pointed looks, he called up the Eye Spy Orb to locate Jack Spicer.

Imagine his surprise when, instead of the expected stuffy rooms of Jack's 'Evil Lair', the Eye showed him miles upon miles of open ocean.

It focused in on two expensive yachts moored together, then closer in to the engine room of one yacht . . .


Jack glanced up at the subtle clearing of a male throat. He turned his attention from an impromptu wrestling match with RJ 13 to find a strikingly handsome man looking at them.

"I say," the man said, and when he smiled, his teeth were bright in his suntanned face. "Do you really know what you're doing with all this delicate equipment?"

Jack snorted, but grinned. "You saw that pretty boat out there? I built that. Every bit of it."

RJ 13 pointed at Jack and said, "He's the world's leading genius in the field of robotics and technology. Space travel will be available just as soon as he works out a few kinks in the math."

The man blinked and stared at them both for a moment, and then tried again.

"Terribly sorry. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sir Gerald—"

"That's nice," Jack said, and turned back to the engine. "RJ 13, reach in and grab—"

"Yeah, got it."

Sir Gerald watched the young twin men working together, Jack muttering quietly to his brother.

Suddenly, the engine purred to life and the electronics came back on as well.

"Amazing!" Sir Gerald blurted. "How… what…?"

"Salt air corrodes wiring and parts," Jack said nonchalantly. "It was easy enough to strip away the old and fit in the new."

Sir Gerald stared at them. "But how—?"

"You had a ready pack of spares available in your engine room," Jack said, and held up a recently opened plastic box.

Sir Gerald blushed. "Ah… quite."

"Well, if that's all…" Jack said, and he started toward the door.

"Must you leave so soon?" Sir Gerald murmured, shifting slightly to block the way. He gave Jack – and RJ 13 – his most charming smile. "After all, I do owe you… something… for fixing my ship."

Jack wasn't stupid. He knew full well what the man was getting at.

RJ 13 stiffened. "I'm not gay."

Sir Gerald's eyebrows went up.

Jack licked his lips as he stared at Sir Gerald's fine, muscled form. Whatever this British playboy did elsewhere in life, he clearly saw to keep fit while doing it.

"I am," Jack said huskily, and his crimson gaze met Sir Gerald's green.

RJ 13 muttered something about going back up to keep Nana company. He quickly left the engine room, leaving the two men to stare at each other in wanton desire.

Jack stepped away from the engine compartment. He found a bulkhead and settled back against it, letting his body go warm and pliant. Tipping his chin up just a bit, he bared his throat; a subtle signal that he wanted to be touched.

Sir Gerald didn't need to be told. He sauntered forward, grinning in a warm and wicked, wonderful way that made Jack's insides feel hot and melty.

Then, the other man's tanned hands were gripping Jack's hips tightly and Sir Gerald was crowding him back against the bulkhead as their lips met; hesitantly at first, as they tested the fit of their mouths and each other's taste. Then, as they realized they fit really well, the kiss deepened and turned into something lewd and dirty hot.

Jack curled his arms around Sir Gerald's neck and shoulders, trying to pull himself closer against the larger, stronger man. Though Gerald was leanly muscular, he was a few inches taller than Jack, who rather appreciated that fact. He pushed his hips forward, rubbing his cloth-covered erection against Gerald's.

Gerald groaned into Jack's mouth. He kissed the young man a little harder; sucked on his tongue, nipped at Jack's lower lip, and then pulled away to begin biting and sucking along the elegant line of the younger man's jaw even as he reached down and caught hold of Jack's thighs.

Staggering slightly, they worked together as Gerald coaxed Jack's legs up around his hips. Jack locked his ankles loosely behind the other man's back, trusting Gerald to keep him pressed up against the bulkhead.

Breathing heavily, Gerald cupped Jack's backside in his hands and thrust against the younger man.

They both moaned; low, hoarse cries of delight. Even clothed, it felt so damn good…!

Sucking on Jack's neck, trying to mark that perfect white skin, Gerald thrust again, and then again. He twisted his hips, grinding against Jack in a slow, teasing stroke that made Jack growl.

"Feels good," Jack muttered, his head tipped back and his eyes closed.

"Can feel even better," Gerald said against his throat, his voice muffled. "I've got lube…"

Jack smirked and rolled his hips against the other man, and laughed at Gerald's excited, shivering quick gasp.

"Just… just get our pants open," he muttered, reaching into his right front pocket.

It took some effort, considering how tightly compressed the material was, but Jack eventually pulled out a tube of sun block.

Gerald muttered something unintelligible as he managed to unsnap and unzip his shorts. In short enough order, he got Jack's pants undone and pushed aside.

They both groaned at the sensation of their naked erections brushing against each other. Their skin was hot and silky-smooth; the tips sticky and wet with arousal.

Jack made a negative noise and shook his head when Gerald tried to pull his pants further down.

"Not enough time," he said, popping the cap on the sun block.

"We're out in the middle of the ocean," Gerald disagreed, biting Jack's neck seductively. "We've all the time in the world!"

"How 'bout I don't want to?" Jack countered. "It's this or nothing."

Gerald growled, low and dangerous-sounding.

"Considering my luck in finding a hot young thing like you out here in the middle of bloody nowhere, I suppose it's this," Gerald said, and kissed Jack again.

Rather than speak, Jack squeezed the tube of sun block so that the creamy lotion spilled down onto their erections.

Gerald reached between them and wrapped his hand around both hard cocks as best he could. He grunted approval when Jack fumbled down to also curl his hand around them, providing more friction.

Then, he began thrusting, and he grinned when Jack shuddered against him and groaned loudly, his head falling back in his pleasure.

"Like that?" Gerald asked breathlessly as he moved, working his hips in smooth, easy strokes that slid his cock perfectly against Jack's.

"Oh, yeah," Jack said, an absolutely filthy look of lust on his face. "Oh, fuck, yeah, do that some more…!"

Gerald did; fucking his cock in their shared grip and stroking Jack's erection with his motion.

"Quite certain you don't want it inside you?" he asked, his voice rough as his arousal heightened. He couldn't believe he'd found this easy, gorgeous piece of arse out on the open ocean! "I can make it good for you, Jack…"

"I bet you could," Jack muttered, his eyes closed as he concentrated on how good it felt to rub off against a perfect stranger. "Just… just do this, fuck, man, make me come…!"

Gerald bared his teeth as he began fucking harder and faster. He wished Jack had consented. God, he'd love nothing more than to be buried to the balls inside that pretty little white arse, but the boy had said no, damn it all.

Since he couldn't have that directly, he pressed closer against Jack as he thrust with short, sharp strokes. He muttered in the younger man's ear, detailing everything he'd have done if Jack had allowed him inside.

Jack groaned and shuddered, panting for air as he fantasized about a long, hard thick cock fucking in and out of him. He wanted that; wanted it so bad.

But the man in his fantasy wasn't this pretty British stranger, but a dark and dangerous Chinese dragon-lord.

Angry, hurting and horny, Jack suddenly bucked wildly as he came, shrieking loudly.

"Fuck! Yes!" Gerald shouted, and his grip tightened even more. His hips snapped forward, fucking his cock against Jack's, feeling it throbbing as the younger man came all over them both.

He thrust hard once, twice, again, and then jerked forward sharply and gasped as if he were dying as his orgasm slammed into him. Blind with pleasure, he flailed and managed to grasp the bulkhead; his body the only thing holding Jack up as he thrust instinctively in the finishing throes of his climax.

They were both gasping for air, their legs shaking wildly. As soon as he felt it was safe to do so, Gerald let his knees buckle as slowly as he could so they could carefully set down on the floor.

He lay on the cool floor of the engine room with his eyes closed, feeling the boat's minor dip and sway in the subtle ocean current. His heart was hammering in his chest and he could hear his own pulse in his ears.

To his shock, he felt something warm and wet touch his prick. His eyes shot open and he looked down the length of his body with a surprised grunt to find Jack had taken his penis into his mouth.

Jack saw him watching and let Gerald's limp cock slip from his mouth. He quirked a grin at the older man.

"Figured the least I could do was clean you up, since I wouldn't let you fuck me," he said huskily.

Gerald, watching that sweet pink tongue slip out to lap delicately at the head of his cock, felt it was not his place to argue with Jack's surprisingly generous nature.

He lay back on the floor and grinned stupidly up at the ceiling above him as he felt his cock disappear into a warm, wet, succulent mouth.


Nana peered irritably at her grandson when he finally climbed back aboard The Spice of Life. Red hair was wildly askew, the pants were rumpled, and there were bruises marring Jack's white skin – specifically, his throat.

More to the point, he was sauntering toward her with a smirk that practically bellowed I JUST GOT LAID!

RJ 13 stepped up beside her as Jack stopped in front of his grandmother, who snorted at him and asked, "Have a good time, Our Jackie?"

"You could say that," Jack muttered with a perfectly filthy grin.

The thrum of engines starting up caught their attention and the three of them peered over the railing of their boat to Sir Gerald, who stood on his deck once more.

"Thanks for your help, Jack," the other man called with a wave. "I hope you're around again the next time I get stranded."

"I bet you do," Nana said, and pouted. "Why are all the pretty ones gay?"

Jack waved back to his brief sexual partner. Then, getting a wicked idea, he caught hold of RJ 13 and pulled his apparent twin closer for a long, deep kiss.

RJ 13 stiffened and started to push Jack away, but a quickly muttered order to submit had the robot sighing and standing still as Jack put on a show for Gerald.

On the deck of the smaller boat, Gerald shivered and stared at the pretty twins with lust.

"Tease!" he called out, but he said it with a smile.

Nana rolled her eyes and thumped away.

A few moments later, the kiss ended, and RJ 13 walked away; wiping his mouth and griping about the insanity of humans.

Sir Gerald went to the cockpit of his boat and put the vessel into motion, sailing smoothly away from Jack Spicer.

Jack watched him go with a pleased smirk.


From the outside, Chase didn't show much of a reaction.

He was a warrior; a fine one at that. He didn't let his behavior be ruled by his emotions, unlike some horny, ill-bred British gentry that rubbed off on perfect strangers they found floating in the middle of the damn ocean!

Chase sucked in a slow, deep breath.

So.

Jack was out having sex with strangers.

Well.

Wasn't that nice?

Nearly twenty feet away, an ancient vase of incalculable value suddenly shattered into a million pieces from the sheer force of anger sleeting off of the dragon lord.

Jack was rubbing off on pretty men he found stranded in the waters of the Pacific when he had turned Chase down flat.

The marble floor under Chase's sandals cracked.

Movement caught his eyes. The blazing golden orbs flew to the floppy form of JackBear, then looked up at the balcony above. A lion warrior gave him a look, then scuttled off to safety.

Mmm; the cat had a point.

Chase was in the body of a child then, no matter how much his thoughts had desired sex. Jack liked men, not children. And that was as it should be.

If the dragon lord had realized the unfairness of his actions earlier, it could be Chase rubbing against that perfectly white, pearly skin and Jack must have been taking exercise, because he certainly didn't remember those lean muscles.

That didn't mean he had to let that paltry excuse for a lord go unpunished for daring to touch his Jack.

Chase's hand flew towards the Eye Spy Orb. Black magic crackled between his digits.

After a long, long moment, Chase curled his hand back into a fist.

If he struck down the horny lord now, Jack would invariably pick the pitiful limey up and take him to safety. Chase didn't even have to imagine the lustful things the pair would get up to on the sail back to dry land.

Chase took another deep breath and centered himself.

When you let emotions take control, you made mistakes. He had very nearly made a gross error.

Never let it be said that Chase Young behaved rashly.

The Heylin dragon lord flicked a finger towards the Eye Spy Orb and cast a spell that would cause the engine of Sir Gerald's yacht to explode the moment Jack Spicer was 500 miles away.

That little item taken care of, Chase paused to consider the situation.

Jack Spicer, who had idolized him to the point of being insane, was now out in the world; young, rich, beautiful and randy.

This situation would have to be rectified.


"Nana, seriously? You've been stuck on that boat for how long and you're not going to take the chance to party in Panama?" Jack asked.

The goth was dolled up for a night on the town: a form-fitting black shirt with red epaulettes and a matching red stripe down the sleeve. His black cargo pants were similarly adorned with red straps and lots of chrome decorations. The look was topped off with a leather collar.

RJ 13 was similarly ready to party, but for his clothing, the robot had chosen a simpler getup of a black button-down shirt, black leather slacks and a shining chrome necklace that he really wouldn't have bothered with except for the fact that his neck seam seemed way too obvious in a V-neck shirt.

"I'm serious, Our Jackie! They hunt down old Nazis in South America! What would you do if the authorities hunted down your dear old grandmother?" Nana protested.

"I'd say you were a crazy old bat and I'd never seen you before in my life," Jack stated calmly.

"Oh, you're a good boy to say that. You give me hope for Evil. But seriously! No; you went out this afternoon and restocked our supplies. I'll be just fine here."

"Suit yourself, Nana," Jack said, shrugging.

The albino youth went down the gangplank and walked up the dock towards town. The Spice of Life had spent the day going through the locks of the Panama Canal. The sloop waited on the Atlantic side of the canal, ready to sail for fresh waters in the morning.

Tonight, Jack and RJ 13 wanted to live it up a little in the city of Colon before starting off in the morning. . . or maybe the day after; it would depend on how bad the hangover was.

The pair of seeming twin brothers caught a taxi downtown, then started casting around for likely party spots.

"I want to drink until I'm stupid, sweat off buckets and watch someone die of Ecstasy overdose on the dance floor!" Jack announced, eyeballing the clubs.

"I want to get laid!" RJ 13 declared.

"You had a chance on Sir Gerald's boat," Jack said, giving him a sideways look.

"I'm not gay!" the robot declared.

"Technically, you aren't male," Spicer corrected. "So, if you aren't really male, you can't really be gay or straight."

The pair fell into step along the sidewalk, ignoring the hawkers crying for their attention at the door to every club.

"I have a penis, so that makes me male," RoboJack 13 stated.

"You had penis installed," Jack stressed, giggling. "You're an after-market male. A custom male.

"Still male," RJ 13 declared, winking at a group of girls that passed them.

"You can't actually reproduce—"

"I can reproduce," the robot stated. "I could make another robot."

That one gave Jack pause.

"Well, yeah, but . . ."

"I could reproduce a lot more neatly than you organisms do; shooting your DNA at each other . . . . I find it offensive!" RJ 13 pointed his index finger at Jack and mimed pulling a trigger.

The mental image of men and women running naked through an old West town, the men firing shots of semen at dodging females, had Jack doubled over and howling with laughter.

"You're – you're sick in the head, you know that?" Spicer gasped.

"Hey, who's the one who figured out how to build a fully functional penis and install it on said robot? Eh?"

"I wanted to see if I could do it," Jack protested. "I wanted to see if I could make a robot able to feel physical pleasure; to make a replica of my favorite organ that would be sensitive enough to pressure and touch to – hey. How do you have sex with a TV?"

RJ 13 gave him an odd look.

"Same way you'd have sex with any appliance, duh."

Jack rubbed his temples.

"Okay, pretend I'm not a sexually depraved android and explain it to me."

"Well, when a robot loves a piece of electronic equipment very much –"

"RoboJack!"

"Look, I just use the electronic current in the TV or whatever to simulate tactile sensations and make it feel like I'm having sex," RJ 13 stressed. "I like the real thing, but the Cheerbots are a bunch of stuck up bitches and you seriously need to install a vagina on at least one of them."

"So, for you, plugging into anything with a cord is just –"

"I'm electronically beating off."

"Ah."

"Mmm-hmmm."

"You could have had sex on the boat, you know," Jack said with a grin. "Sir Gerald –"

"Might have gotten a wee bit suspicious about the fact that I don't have an anus," RJ 13 finished. "Or can't ejaculate or sweat, or blush."

"Hey; I made you able to breathe and fuck; how much more do you want?"

"I have to keep my core well-ventilated or risk over-heating and I appreciate that I have human-like lungs for that. I also really appreciate my penis. I just want to try it out for real."

"That's what all guys want," Jack said with a grin. "And on that note, I'm going into this club."

The albino goth jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards a club pumping out techno music.

RJ 13 took a good look at the crowd thrashing and grinding on the dance floor.

"I'm going to keep looking until I find a club with some women in it," the robot stated. "Call me if you need me."

"Will do!" Jack turned and jogged into the club and onto the dance floor, where he was instantly surrounded by admirers.


"Young people always go running off in all directions looking for fun. They don't know that fun can be had right at home," Nana Spicer announced sweetly.

She poured two glasses of finely aged whiskey and handed one to her guest.

"Especially when you order out for a hooker!" She declared.

The handsome young man took the whiskey gratefully. The slight grimace on his face stated that he had to remind himself every few seconds exactly how much he was getting paid for this.

The escort belted back the alcohol and quickly went to pour himself another.


RoboJack Unit 13 reclined against a bar, ocean breezes tickling his gas chromatographers and gentle laughter and soft music filling his audio receptors.

Now this was the life.

Why would you wear out your batteries and stress your audio and visual sensors in some dance club with the music deafening and the lights strobing when you could relax in a place like this; dark, rich wood furnishings, intelligent, well-heeled travelers and their often-ignored, lonely daughters and expensive drinks?

Most of the tourists would never find this lovely, secluded bar. RJ 13 certainly never would have found it just wandering around; he had gone wireless and done an internet search for 'places Earnest Hemmingway would drink'.

"Here you go, babe; a bottle of the finest," the bartender purred, setting down a bottle of ruinously expensive rum. Two glasses followed the bottle to the bar top.

"Who are you drinking with?" The well-endowed woman asked.

RJ 13 grinned at her – or at least, grinned at parts of her – and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"We'll see."

"Uh huh, well, I do have something you can wrap your lips around, Casanova," the lady stated.

As hope lit up in the robot's eyes, the bartender reached for a shelf beneath her and stuck a cigar in RJ 13's slack mouth.

"One free with every top-shelf bottle," she said grinning.

"Tease," the android called as she retreated to the other end of the bar.

"You need a light?"

RoboJack 13 looked over at the young woman addressing him.

She had been sitting at the third table from the back right corner with three other men old enough to be her father and judging by the skeletal and somatype similarities of the one on her immediate left, one of them actually was.

RJ 13 gave her a long, head to toe look.

She had pretty brown eyes, blonde hair, a trim figure, and metal screws from an old fracture on her left femur, an IUD birth control device in her uterus, and judging by the wear and tear on her right carpal bones, liked tennis.

RJ 13 gave her a smile.

"Maybe. Do you need a drink?" he offered, pouring the rum.

The woman turned up her nose slightly.

"It hasn't escaped my notice that this whole place is full of drink," she stated primly. "I could get my own if I wanted."

"It hasn't escaped my notice that there are cups of matchboxes every 1.96 feet along this bar," RJ 13 retorted. "I could get my own light if I wanted."

Another woman sitting nearby snorted out loud.

"He got you coming and going, sweetie!" She announced. This woman was dark-skinned; a mix of African and local Caribe Indian, if RJ had to guess, with shining black hair in tiny micro-braids decorated with brightly colored beads.

"Here, don't waste good rum on Daddy's little girl," the black girl laughed, taking the free glass of rum and drinking it down.

"Cheers," RJ 13 said, mimicking her.

The blonde girl gave the newcomer a look hot enough to sear flesh and stepped up to RJ 13 with a lit Zippo. The robot quickly leaned in to light his cigar.

The black girl scooted over quickly to take the barstool on the android's immediate right. The blonde girl, not to be outdone, took the stool on his immediate left. As the two females glared heatedly at each other, RJ 13 raised his hand for the bartender's attention.

"Can I get another glass, please?"

The bartender laughed and shook her head at him, but as she turned to fetch him another glass, the android's eyes fell on the TV tucked into the corner of the bar. The television was set to the news. Currently it was showing a story about a devastating yacht explosion.

A very familiar yacht.

Out of habit of mimicking human behaviors, RJ 13 squinted at the set while he set his electronic eyes to 'zoom'. Just as he got a nice tight shot of the screen, the news flipped over to a picture of the one and only Sir Gerald, his portrait bearing the caption 'assumed dead'.

RoboJack Unit 13 arched an eyebrow even as he set a subordinate AI on pulling the recording from his memory banks and sending a copy to Master Jack.

"You know that guy?" The blonde asked.

"Sort of; he screwed my Ma - brother once," RJ 13 said. "He's the gay twin."


Why the fuck had he spent so much goddamn time on that whole Xiaolin/Heylin bullshit when he could have been doing this?

Jack had spent the last hour dancing in a throng of pumped, sweaty, hot, young men. Thanks to his near-non-stop training in the last three months, it had taken him that long to even get tired. When he took a break for a drink, a foxy Amer-Asian stud had followed him off the dance floor and was showing every interest in working him out in an entirely different way.

Holy shit; who knew all he needed to get laid was simply going out in public? This must be what it was like to be a chick!

Jack paused for a few gulps of water in between the sticky tropical drink Mr. Foxy had bought for him.

Just as the albino was toying with the idea of at least making out with his admirer in a corner somewhere, his phone vibrated for attention.

Jack frowned.

Did Nana need something? She knew he was out partying! Why would she call him? Was she that afraid of Nazi hunters? Oh . . . no, wait it was from RJ 13.

The message: 'When you love 'em and leave 'em, you don't mess around, Master' lit up his LCD screen. Jack's frown deepened as a video of a wrecked boat played across the small screen, culminating in Sir Gerald's picture.

The goth's features went slack with shock.

It was true, Sir Gerald had been a 'Johnny on the Spot' and the odds of them ever meeting again were slim to none, but he had been Jack's first sexual experience with another person. You never forgot your first time.

After a moment, he regained enough composure to type: 'Wasn't me; I swear.'

"Hey, you okay, Snowflake? Bad news? You don't have to leave, do you? I thought we could get to know each other a little better," Mr. Foxy was saying.

"His name is Jack Spicer," growled a familiar voice.

Jack's jaw dropped further open. He slowly turned, still not able to believe his eyes when he saw none other than Chase Young giving Mr. Foxy the evil eye.

"Leave," Chase snarled at the other man.

Some deep-down survival instinct told the amorous dancer that disobeying would be extremely unwise.

Jack shook himself, snorted softly, and locked eyes with Chase.