Hehehe. You'll probably like this chapter, as poor Jet has more than one problem concerning Virginia's 'cure'. Read on to find out why he really didn't volunteer.

Oh, and more (many more) 'you-know-what' (I just love saying that) references later on in this chapter. Serious ones. Man, I feel sorry for those two, poor misguided men. Actually, I feel sorry for me. I'M the one who had to write it. Where' MY freakin' reward?

Klox: I just have to ask-

Aughus: Don't.

Klox: ……

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The Gorg's Curse

When Virginia woke the next morning, Gallows' bed was empty. Smiling to herself, she rolled over and stared at the wall, unblinking. Never once before had she been so happy she had a friend like him. He understood how she felt, why she felt that way and what do about those feelings. He had even been willing to go to…unnecessary extremes in order to protect her.

Stifling a yawn, she sat up in her bed and rubbed her eyes. Despite the fact that she was thirsty enough to drink from a pig trough, she felt so content that it almost caused her stomach pains. It was as if she was connected to the world, and it was a beautiful day.

After stretching, she stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. It was time to face the music, she decided firmly. As soon as she left the room, she knew she would have to put on her game face and play her part of Gallows' plan through.

She took a deep breath as she approached the door, and stepped through with her best morning attitude she knew they were expecting.

Clive was sitting on the couch, unsurprisingly buried in a book he'd discovered on Cheville's shelves. When he heard her approaching, he slowly stole his gaze away from the pages and looked at her, his expression unreadable.

"Morning, Clive!" she said cheerily. She looked around innocently. "Um, where is everyone?"

"Good morning, Virginia," he said casually. He placed the thick book on the table before him. "I have not seen Jet this morning. I thought Gallows was…with you."

This was fun, Virginia decided. "No," she replied honestly. "When I woke up, he was gone."

There seemed to be a glimmer of respite behind his eyes. "I see," he replied careful to choose his words next before he spoke them. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log," she joked, smiling brightly. "Actually, Gallows stayed up late with me…"

He appeared to grow nervous in that moment, just as she'd hoped. Yep, this was definitely among the most amusing things she had ever done. She'd teach him for trying to play matchmaker.

"Up late?" he pressed. To his further embarrassment, his voice cracked slightly. He cleared it hastily.

"Yep," she said, smiling again. "I don't think I'll ever pick a pillow fight with him again. I almost lost a tooth!"

Clive was looking at her strangely, but he was also clearly thinking of something else. Inwardly, Virginia flinched. Did he suspect her of something? Surely, he didn't actually believe that she and Gallows…but no, there was something closely related to anger about him. Maybe he believed Gallows hadn't, well, 'done it' and was preparing some sort of life-threatening lecture for the Baskar when he returned.

Virginia winced when she thought of Clive's lectures. After everything Gallows was doing for her, she didn't want him to endure something like that.

"Clive, can I ask you something?" she said, keeping her voice low.

His dangerous expression seemed to melt somewhat at her request. "Of course, Virginia. What is on your mind?"

"Um, this is a bit embarrassing…" she admitted, and took a deep breath. "Can you tell Jet that he has to cure me?"

A mixture of puzzlement and surprise crossed the green-haired Drifter's face. Clive opened his mouth to say something, but found he could not. After an awkward silence, he gained his composure again.

"Did Gallows-"

"No, no," she interjected quickly. "I was…listening to you guys last night. I'll admit I'm a little disappointed that you wouldn't tell me what's happening to my own body, but I'll forgive you this time."

Clive nodded slightly, although he was still vaguely confused. "I take it you and Gallows did not…"

"Well, no." Virginia averted her eyes, feeling the familiar warmth of blood rushing to her face. "We couldn't, Clive. Gallows is more of a big brother to me than anything else! Besides, Jet…I mean, I'm really…"

He understood immediately. His face was suddenly rewritten by a look of sincere sympathy, although he could not hide the amusement behind it. "I'm sorry for not informing you," he said reluctantly. "I simply couldn't allow the risk of your reaction, or the remote possibility that you would allow harm to come to yourself before putting your comrades in uneasy positions."

"Like I said," she said, smiling broadly. "No harm done. Besides, I think I need your help…because Gallows can't help me anymore."

His inquiring expression was all she needed to continue. Virginia sighed. "I know we should have told you first, but Gallows and I came up with a plan. We need to tell Jet that Gallows disappeared during the night, and we can't find him." Her smile returned. "Gallows is hiding at the station."

For some odd reason, Clive found that his interest was perked. He'd been troubled about the prospect of their leader and Gallows together since the night before, thus he was ready and willing to follow along with any plan on the table now. "That much I understand," he said. "This is interesting. Please continue."

Virginia giggled. "Clive, you're terrible!"

"I am?" He looked genuinely surprised. "I was unaware that meddling in the romanticisms of my friends was at all unethical."

Bother Drifters were then startled by a sudden movement across the room. The door leading outside burst open, revealing the sweat-streaked face of a very angry, one Jet Enduro.

"Gallows' horse is gone," he announced gruffly, before wavering. His irritated stance melted into one of uneasiness. "Uh…sorry."

Quickly, Virginia snapped her head towards Clive. Silently, she pleaded with him to stick to her story and not complicate the situation as it was.

Of course, Clive was not well known for complicating anything, besides sentences.

"I am afraid Gallows has disappeared as well," he told the silver-haired Drifter, in a perfect actor's voice. "It seems he left sometime after our departure and before midnight."

Jet's face flushed reasonably. "What?" he almost hissed, hardly constraining himself. "That dirty, cheating, lousy son-of-a-"

"Jet," said Virginia. "He probably left to get some fresh air, and fell asleep. That's all. Why is it such a problem, anyway?"

The young man half-rolled his eyes. "…nothing."

Jet knew that Gallows did not leave to get some 'fresh air'. Gallows had left to 'haul ass' to somewhere he knew he wouldn't have to deal with Virginia's 'problem'. And without Gallows around to take care of that problem, with Clive as married and technically unavailable, that left one option only.

"Hey, Clive," said Jet, trying not to clench his jaw as he spoke. He dragged his gaze over to the older Drifter. "Can I talk to you? About the horses?"

Virginia had to bite her tongue to refrain from laughing, wincing inwardly as she bit just a little too hard. Not only was Jet's question uselessly disguised, but the smug satisfaction simply radiating from Clive was enough to tickle her insides.

"I am available to talk any time," said Clive matter-of-factly. "What can I do for you?"

Jet shot a death-glare at Clive. "Right now," he said flatly. "In private. It's important."

Slowly Clive nodded and rose from the couch. "Shall we step outside?" he said courteously. He chanced a brief grin at Virginia while his back was turned to the silver-haired Drifter. "If you will excuse us, Virginia."

"Of course, I don't mind." Virginia resorted to pinching the insides of her cheeks between her teeth. If she smiled now, she would give it all away.

"We can't talk outside," said Jet quickly. Catching their glances, he snapped, "Look, don't ask, okay? Either we talk in private, or call this thing off."

Virginia feigned a look of innocence. "What thing? Are you two hiding something from me?"

"Not necessarily," said Clive, keeping his part. "Although I respect such privileged concealments, I still firmly believe that every individual problem belongs to the team as a entirety."

The team 'leader' brightened immediately. She honestly smiled. "I agree with Clive, Jet. If something is troubling you, we should all work at it together."

Jet shot Clive another reproachful glare. You know, that kind of glare that said 'what-the-hell-are-you-trying-to-do-you-son-of-a-mud-sucking-guppy?' and left any normal man feeling slightly unnerved about the possibility of being hand-shaped into a pile of goo. That kind of glare.

"Will the spare room be adequate?" asked Clive. Playing his role was becoming exceedingly difficult by the passing seconds.

"Tch…fine." Jet placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. He averted his gaze. "Just hurry up, alright? The sooner I get this done the better."

With that, he turned and stalked towards the third room of the house. He disappeared through he doorway, not sparing a glance over his shoulder or a break in his fixed expression.

Relatively positive that Jet was out of earshot, Virginia sighed. "I don't understand him, Clive. I don't…know what I feel that makes me so…close…to him."

Clive smiled reassuringly. "I am certainly no expert on split distant relationships, Virginia. I might be out of place by saying this, but what you have just described resembles love-sickness."

"Love…sickness?" Virginia faltered. "I didn't know love could make you feel sick."

His smile brightened, with a fervent waywardness. "It is an expression. I'm sorry about that. I tend to get carried away at times, but I cannot help but feel I am recurring the same steps from another time, from another point of view."

Virginia opened her mouth to say something, but could not find an easy grip on his words. "I…well, Clive…with Jet, I'm just…I…"

"For now, we should let our performances progress," he said after her last pause. He began to move towards the door to the spare room. "I will try my best to solve this ambiguity."

She merely nodded in return, and let her mind drown in these sudden, unexpected revelations.

When Clive eventually got around to shutting the spare room door behind him, he was instantly aware of Jet's forceful glowering. To his surprise, however, the silver-haired Drifter did not attack him with a volley of words and questions. Instead, Jet crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall. He said nothing.

"I will spare you the effort of admitting our difficulties and explain our current situation," said Clive. The older Drifter moved halfway across the room and stopped.

Jet looked up from his spot, but remained silent.

Clive went on. "Of course, we have less than one day to complete this task before Virginia falls very ill. We have less than 34 hours before her body ceases functioning completely."

"Don't say that," Jet mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"Don't say that!" he snapped loudly. Then, as if surprised by his own outburst, Jet exhaled deeply and placed a hand over his face. "Don't say Ginny's going to die."

Confusion gripped the older Drifter as he struggled to compare Jet's new attitude with the nearly heartless adolescent that had entered the room exactly one minute ago. "I only mean to explain when our time expires," he said carefully. He then lowered his voice. "Jet, if there is a problem, you do not have to do this. There are others who may be willing to help…myself, even…should we run out of options entirely."

Jet's cheeks grew hot, and with it his embarrassment grew. His temper flared slightly, only to be subdued with another wave of icy discomfort. "That's not it."

"What is wrong, then?" Clive's face warped slightly with concern.

Jet's reply was rushed and barely a scratch above a whisper. Clive strained his ears, but could not make sense of the sentence. "Jet, I cannot understand you if you mutter incoherently."

"I don't…" Jet drew a long breath and turned his sharp eyes on Clive. "Look, I like Virginia okay? You'd be a real twit if you can't see that already! I just…don't….know…" He closed his eyes and held his breath, "…how."

That tidbit of information struck Clive like a mythril mallet. Until now he'd never considered that a youth with no biological parents or former acquaintances might not understand how sex was performed or what the basic concepts of it were. Hopefully, he knew 'something', even if that 'something' was practically nothing at all.

"I know a little," Jet admitted quickly. "I mean…I kind of picked up some stuff…ugh, why do I even have to do this?"

Clive faltered, standing uneasily as he hastily adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze. "If you would prefer…there are alternatives if you do not wish to-"

"No," interrupted the younger Drifter. "That's it, I…I actually want to, but it's like I'm asking too much. Dammit, why'd she get bitten by a Gorg? I wanted…"

"More time," the sniper finished. "That is an asset we do not have."

"Are you going help me, or what?" Jet snapped.

Again, the blank look of unease entered Clive's face. "It seems I have no choice, although I am convinced that this would be a much easier task were you to speak with Gallows."

"Yeah, but that option ran out on us," said the silver-haired Drifter, scowling. "Can we get this over with now?"

Clive was beginning to feel very sorry that Gallows was no longer around. He decided that when Jet chose to beat the living out of the clumsy Baskar, he would pin Gallows down with his own two hands. Of course, that seemed like the right thing to do. For presently, Clive was ready to give any excuse to be anywhere else.

The sniper turned his head toward the small table in the corner of the room. "Please sit down," he bade the younger Drifter. "It will feel more comfortable if we are not standing so close to the door."

Jet did as he was told with a carved expression. He was clearly not happy with his situation, just as Clive did not feel inclined to discuss any of the following.

"We should begin with what you know," said Clive matter-of-factly. "How much?"

Jet grimaced. "Well, the general idea…some things, I guess…."

"Such as?"

Jet's expression changed from uneasy to irritated. "What do you mean, 'such as'? You're the one who's supposed to tell me this stuff!"

The sniper adjusted his glasses and shifted in his seat. "I am also attempting to rule out certain subjects we don't necessarily need to discuss."

"Fine," Jet growled. "First of all, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but Virginia might not like the idea of me…uh, approaching her."

This particular problem was not…well, a problem. Clive knew this, but Jet did not. Thus, the sniper merely shook his head. "That is part of this risk we all take, unfortunately. If it helps, I do not believe Virginia will object."

Jet narrowed his eyes. "Thanks. That really does help. A lot."

Clive looked grim. "I was merely expressing an opinion."

"Yeah? Well, opinionate this," said Jet. "I don't have a goddamned clue what I'm supposed to do. I just don't get what the hell the big deal is with this virginity thing, either."

Glad that the surface of the ice had been cracked, the sniper reached behind his head to scratch his neck as he spoke. "That is a bit difficult to explain. This is precisely why I tried to rule out the areas you know."

"What I know?" Jet snorted. "I know what you're 'supposed' to do. You don't spend ten years gathering tips in bars and not hear about it a few times."

Clive nodded. "And?"

"And?" Jet repeated, mildly confused. "And I'd like to know exactly what it is I'm 'supposed' to do to cure Virginia. I don't know anything about females and friggin' virginity."

Problem found, thought Clive. Solution required. He hesitated for a moment. "I assume you know the process of intercourse, then. Feminine virginity is basically a barrier that is penetrated the first time a young woman performs."

Jet appeared both uncomfortable and relieved at the same time. For a moment, neither Drifter said anything.

"This is…confusing," Jet remarked at last.

Clive nodded again. "I take it you still have questions?"

"You think?" said Jet dully. "Fine, what do you do…before? I mean, I'm guessing you don't walk up to someone and ask them to take their clothes off."

This was easier, Clive decided. Much easier. "That depends on the moment, I suppose. Hopefully, kissing Virginia won't prove to be too difficult for you to handle."

"Obviously," snapped the other Drifter, obviously not appreciating Clive's remote arrogance. "Thanks for being so supportive."

"That was not what I meant," Clive persisted. "The simple matter is, by kissing Virginia first you will be able to determine whether or not she is ready to continue."

"So fine, I kiss her. Then what?" Jet demanded, trailing annoyance in his tone.

Clive found it impossible to keep his face from flushing slightly. "After that, I believe it is best to let your instincts handle the rest."

"What?" Jet looked up sharply. "That's it? Let my instincts handle the rest? What kind of advice is that?"

"The right advice, I believe," said Clive. "I'm sorry Jet, but I cannot explain the rest without risking some great degree of error."

Jet stared on for a moment, before tilting his head forward. "Whatever."

A soft knock startled both of them to their senses. After a moment, Virginia's voice drifted to them through the door.

"Clive? I'm sorry about interrupting, but Catherine came here looking for you! She says she needs you to pick her mother up at the station!"

After clearing his throat, Clive stood up. "I will not be back until nightfall. Once I leave, I am afraid I cannot help you."

"Yeah, right…" Jet averted his eyes and stared at the far wall. "Go pick the old lady up. I'll be fine."

The sniper stared at him until he looked over again. Jet sighed. "We'll be fine," he corrected himself, a little mockingly.

Clive turned and approached the door, only to pause for a scarce moment. "Best of luck," he bade the younger Drifter, hopefully.

With that, Clive opened the door and disappeared, leaving Jet to his sullen, worried thoughts and a clear appearance of a man doomed to a misfortune.

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Well, I was going to leave the conversation short at "Well, the general idea…" but since I knew you peeps take pleasure in the discomfort of these characters, I went on. Now I am sad.

BTW, many thanks to meteor9 for her fanfiction about Jet asking Gallows about the 'birds and the bees', because it made me laugh and I felt much better about writing this. Thank you.

Klox: Yeah, right. And I'm the Lord of the Dance.

Yachi: Klox, are you aware that I have complete and utter control over you?

Klox: So?

(several minutes later)

Klox: Waaaah! Make me stop! Please!

Aughus: Hmmm…I did not know he could dance…

Yachi: He wants to jig? He can jig. grins