Hello again everyone! Well, we're nearing the end of this epic tale of love and adventure...just a couple more to go. I have enjoyed the journey immensely and I hope that you have too. Many, many thanks for all the wonderful reviews and comments and new friendships that have formed. It really really does mean the world to me!
The usual disclaimers: Shore Leave is rated M for adult content. All Thunderbirds characters belong to someone else, Karen kind of belongs to me, although she belongs more to John these days, and I'm happy to let her go. God bless, babe, let him look after you! xx
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Karen sat at the small dresser in John's room, peering at her face in the mirror and trying to comb the tangles out of her morning bed hair. It was an almost impossible task. Eventually she abandoned the comb and started picking up his bottles of aftershave, taking off the tops and inhaling all his various scents. They all smelled like John- light, but with deeper undertones of freshly cut wood and something indiscernible that made her think of stars. He always smelled so nice, especially in the crook of his neck and the small of his back. She shivered at the thought of his warm skin and how he always wrapped himself around her at night like a human straitjacket, and how he would sometimes mumble soft sounds into her dreams, not quite waking her up, but joining her in her slumbers.
# # # #
He was taking a long time with breakfast, though. Karen's stomach rumbled in anticipation of more delicious bacon and eggs, not to mention his grandmother's amazing pancakes with maple syrup, and even Scott's cinnamon toast, even though some of the edges had been slightly singed.
When John finally arrived and she let him in, he looked peeved and distracted. His brow was furrowed and there was a slight downturn to his lips. She soon brought him out of it with a kiss, and he set the breakfast tray down on the bed and took hold of her shoulders with his lilac-nailed hands.
"It seems we're getting a visitor today," he said resignedly.
They settled down to eat their breakfast. Karen shoved bacon into her mouth and closed her eyes in rapture. John was a top bacon fryer. The strips were crispy but not too burnt, and just enough oil to take away the salty dryness. She pictured him in a chef's hat, giving cooking lessons to Scott, who sorely needed them if today's toast was anything to go by. He was understandably distracted, said John. By the prospects of today's visitor.
"So who are you being visited by?" Karen asked, picking up her coffee cup.
"Oh- this socialite friend of Scott's," sighed John. He shook his head, making the little blond curl swing from side to side. "He met her in Oxford years ago. He was studying, she was meant to be studying but with her money she could afford to fool around with parties all the time. She kind of latched on to him. He likes her- God knows why. I think she's a fruitcake. Her name's Clarissa de Beaumont-Montgomery. Typical upper class nutjob. Never done a day's work in her life, just wings it from day to day on her father's inheritance. She calls Scott on a whim and he goes running. But you know, they're friends- at least that's what he's always told us. Anyway, he's going off to collect her now- she's at some obscure airport on some obscure island, she always turns up like that."
"She sounds, er...fascinating," said Karen, feeling immediately intimidated. Socialites from Oxford? There was just too much money being verbally bandied around, spoken of as though it were just an incidental detail to the enjoyment of life. Ditzy women who didn't have to work for their money had always bothered Karen. Not because she was envious- although her brief stay at The Walburn had opened her eyes to another, quite decadent way of living- but because she felt that these women had no conception of how hard others had to work just to get by from day to day.
She wouldn't say anything though, and she certainly wouldn't pass judgement on the woman until she'd arrived and Karen had had a chance to get to know her. This Clarissa was, after all, more entitled to be here than she was.
"Do you think I'll like her?" Karen asked, tentatively.
John spoke around a mouthful of singed toast. "Sure. She's likeable. She's just a fruitcake. And she, er..." he mimed tipping a bottle up to his lips, "...likes a drop. You know?"
Karen giggled. "She sounds like quite a character."
John smiled then, a sort of closed-mouthed twist to his lips that could have meant anything. "Oh, she is that, all right. She's a character."
# # # #
At around 1pm Jeff Tracy assembled everyone in the lounge and looked at each of them sternly. "Now, boys and girls, remember. Operation Cover Up is in place. Not a word or a sound. I know I don't need to remind you, but it always helps to reinforce the drill. Ms. Meadows," the Tracy patriarch turned his steely gaze onto Karen, making her tremble slightly, "this also means you. You must behave as though you're one of us, now. Is that understood?"
Karen swallowed nervously. "Yes, sir," she nodded, clutching tightly to John's hand.
Even Alan, on screen behind them, looked worried. "Dad?" the youngest Tracy ventured. "Does Karen know what Clarissa is like?"
"I briefed her, Alan," said John, squeezing Karen's hand for reassurance.
Alan shook his blond head mournfully. "Words don't do that woman justice," he sighed theatrically, making Tin-Tin giggle behind her hand.
Gordon edged closer to Karen and stage-whispered, "Clarissa de Beaumont-Montgomery is the kinda gal who turns men into mush, night into day and water into wine- and then drinks all the wine herself."
Karen's giggle burst out of her before she had time to clamp her hand over her mouth.
"For once I agree with Gordon," said Jefferson Tracy, and to Karen that somehow made it even funnier. She had to clutch onto John's arm and look away to stop herself from laughing in case they all thought she'd gone hysterical with nerves.
When Jeff dismissed them to go about their separate ways, Virgil came over with a big, gleaming grin. "Time to lollygag around the pool like a bunch of dumb rich kids," he said ironically.
John smiled back. "I was thinking, maybe a game of badminton on the lawn and a pitcher of Pimm's. Make her feel right at home."
"A pitcher of neat whisky would make her feel at home," said Virgil. "Karen, wait until you meet this gal. Are you in for a treat."
# # # #
In the cockpit of Ladybird on the way back to Tracy Island, Scott turned to Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward and grinned broadly, flashing his dimples the way he knew she liked. "So- ready for the grand performance?" he teased, eyeing her up and down. "The guys are all briefed. Everyone knows except Karen herself."
"Dear boy, this sort of thing comes naturally to one such as myself," Lady Penelope drawled. "I've seen enough of those bird-brained debutantes to last me a lifetime." She lifted a hand to her hair as if to pat away any stray strands, but of course, her hair was, as always, immaculate.
Scott shook his head and laughed. He loved the way Penelope always called him 'dear boy', even though he was three years older than she was. "And don't forget, you like the old...you know." He too, mimed lifting a bottle to his lips, then gave a short, two-note whistle.
"Yes, so I gather." Penelope looked at him mock-sternly. "And who's idea was that, may I ask?"
"Actually," Scott chuckled, "it was dad's. I guess the old devil thought it would be funny to watch you staggering around pretending to be under the influence."
"You wait until I see your father," Penelope said meaningfully, but as she turned to face forwards again, Scott could see that she was smiling.
# # # #
At 1.45pm, Clarissa de Beaumont-Montgomery made her grand entrance into Tracy Villa.
Karen was sitting on the balcony with John, Virgil and Gordon, with Mr. Tracy, Tin-Tin and Brains at Mr. Tracy's desk and Grandma and Kyrano busy preparing another welcome feast in the kitchen.
Virgil, in his cravat and shades, was recounting a story concerning a jazz musician friend of his who had once gone to sleep inside a grand piano with the lid down when they all heard an ear-splitting shriek from inside the house. They stared at each other then turned their heads at once, startled.
"JEFFERSON TRACY! HOW ABSOLUTELY LOVELY TO SEE YOU!" the shrill voice continued, and almost as one, the balcony occupants sprang to their feet and rushed inside to see what the commotion was, with Gordon almost knocking Virgil over in his haste.
Karen held back, unsure of herself, when she spotted the tall, willowy, well-dressed blonde who had an embarrassed looking Jeff Tracy swept up in a bear hug after leaving two bright red lipstick marks on both of his craggy cheeks.
"And where are all your darling boys, Jefferson?" the blonde woman cried, pushing herself away from Jeff and searching the lounge with dazzlingly big but slightly unfocused blue eyes. "Virgil! My darling, come here!" She rushed haphazardly towards Virgil, who immediately looked terrified, but subjected himself to a barrage of lipstick kisses and a hug that looked even fiercer than the one she'd just given Jeff.
"Gordon! Oh, my favourite little deep-sea diver," the woman cried, suddenly pushing Virgil away as though he were yesterday's news and pouncing on Gordon, who looked anything but terrified and hugged her right back, his arms fully wrapped around her.
"Clarissa, baby, great to see you again," he grinned, attempting to twirl Penelope around and nearly pulling her off-balance in the process. "Come give your favourite Tracy a big kiss!" With that, he grasped Penelope's face in both hands and planted a whopper of a smooch right on her lips, making loud "mmmmm" noises as he kissed her for as long as he could get away with before a surprised Penelope came to her senses and pushed him firmly away, slapping him on the shoulder.
"Ooh, you are awful," she scolded. "But I like you."
Karen watched the whole scenario, bewildered, then wary as Penelope turned and spied John.
"JOHN!" Penelope/Clarissa said fondly, her arms outstretched. "Come and give Clarissa-pooh a great big teddy bear huggy-wug!"
Reluctantly, Karen had to let go of John's arm and watch this blonde newcomer with the now-smudged lipstick embrace her man tightly as though he were the last heterosexual male on earth.
"John Tracy, I can't wait to get my hands on your telescope," the blonde woman murmured just inches away from his ear, making his hair flutter, so that Karen had to forcibly stop herself from going over and laying instant claim to her lover.
Then, just as suddenly as she'd abandoned the others, the woman abandoned John and advanced instead on Karen. "And you must be Karen!" she cried with her arms outstretched again. "Oh, I've heard everything about you from darling Scott on the way over. He said such lovely things about you- but then, he always was such a smooth-tongued devil."
Karen glanced over at Scott who shrugged apologetically before she was embraced tightly and subjected to a barrage of air-kisses either side of her face.
Penelope/Clarissa let go of Karen just as abruptly and turned back to Scott, who suddenly looked slightly wary but pulled himself up to his full impressive height as she approached and wrapped her arms around his waist in front of everybody. "And now, my gorgeous lover...how about pouring dear Clarissa a shot of that wonderful single malt whisky I know you got for Christmas last year. Come along now, darling, don't be frugal!"
After Penelope had dragged Scott off to the kitchen, closely followed by Jeff and an eager looking Gordon, Karen turned to John. "When she said 'telescope', I hope she meant telescope," she said softly, pointedly.
"Who knows what she meant?" replied John, throwing his arms up in despair.
# # # #
Later, in the kitchen, Penelope/Clarissa was holding court in front of a rapidly diminishing bottle of
Macallan while Scott looked on, occasionally laughing at her jokes, occasionally rolling his eyes at Virgil or whoever caught his attention.
"So, anyway, I said to Charlotte, darling, you simply cannot go to Klosters any more, it's full of hoi-polloi and absolute riff-raff, Switzerland is so uncouth. I simply insisted on a darling little resort in Italy, and of course the locals there are so friendly, if you get my meaning." She winked at Karen and sidled closer to Scott, brushing up against his shoulder. "Of course, they're not a patch on this darling man, what say?"
While all this was going on, Karen looked up at John who was wearing a slight frown. "Can't we just sneak off?" she whispered, hoping no-one else would hear.
John slipped his arm around her, pulled her close. "It's very tempting," he admitted. "her voice is going straight through my head like an ice pick."
"What are you two whispering about?" Penelope/Clarissa cried loudly. "Oh, do tell! Is it gossip?" She left Scott's side and came over to John, gasping as she caught sight of his fingernails. "oh, darling John! How completely and utterly fabulous. You always were such a trendsetter!"
"Um. er...Clarissa, we were just..." John attempted to disengage himself, but Penelope/Clarissa's grip was strong. "Nonsense, dear boy. You're not going anywhere, that would be terribly rude of you when I've only just this minute arrived!"
She pulled him over to the table and poured both John and Karen a large measure of whisky.
"It's too early," Karen murmured in John's ear, watching as Penelope picked up her own glass and knocked the amber liquid back in one.
"Just sip it. You don't have to drink it." John demonstrated by barely touching the liquid to his lips. "See? There's no way I'm getting inebriated. She's Scott's friend and this is Scott's whisky, let him deal with it."
The conversation began to get more raucous as Penelope/Clarissa appeared to get more drunk. She recounted a tale from her days at Oxford that involved Scott ending up in the river with no trousers on that had Scott spluttering in indignation and Gordon creased over and howling. She pushed Scott onto a stool at the kitchen counter and sat on his lap with her arms around his neck, proclaiming that she'd always loved him and he'd been a bounder to turn her down in favour of somebody called Annabel. When Jeff retorted, also somewhat indignantly, that his eldest son was no bounder, she replied by saying that Scott was a chip off the old block. This made Jeff splutter, and Gordon's eyes pop out on stalks.
"You've always been hiding something from me, Scott Tracy," she pouted, winding her arms further around his neck. "And one day I will find out what it is!"
# # # #
About an hour later, Grandma and Kyrano presented the food, and the Tracys and their guests were faced with another mountainous eating task. This didn't seem to bother Scott, who was already helping himself to a heap of barbecued chicken wings and potato salad while Penelope/Clarissa draped herself over him like a fur stole, laughing into his ear and trying to tickle him in the ribs.
John and Karen sat together on the sofa, plates piled high. Every so often Karen noticed John looking mournfully at his father, who just shrugged back.
"Are you all right, John?" she asked, concerned.
"Sure, I'm all right," John replied. "I'm just kind of ticked off that she gets to come here when she wants and no-one says anything, and yet you get the third degree."
"Well," Karen picked at a bread roll, "that's because I'm not really supposed to be here, and she's been a friend of Scott's for years."
"I still don't like it."
Karen put a piece of bread in her mouth, chewing but not really tasting. "Does she know...? Um, I mean, about..." she stopped, scared to anything further in case Jeff Tracy was reading her lips from across the room.
"No, she doesn't. She has no idea." John stabbed his fork into a slice of tomato.
Karen stared at her food. This was yet another reminder of the fact that she'd only known John for just over two weeks and yet she was already privy to his secret life as a member of International Rescue.
"I wish I still didn't know, either," she admitted, putting down her plate and nestling firmly into his side.
# # # #
Jeff pulled Penelope aside in the kitchen. "First impressions, Penny?" he asked brusquely.
"First impressions, Jeff?" The cool blonde dropped her ditzy demeanour and focused her calm blue gaze on her friend and colleague. "The poor thing is a nervous wreck."
Jeff raised his eyebrows. "Come again?"
"Jeff, can't you see it, or is it really only women who pick up obvious signals like lip-chewing, nail biting and a look of complete and utter panic? The poor girl was terrified of me. I don't know what you told her to expect, but it looked as though she'd had the life frightened out of her!"
"She's been nervous ever since she got here," said Tin-Tin, who had already been in the kitchen and had now come over to join them. "But I like her very much and I don't think she's any threat to us at all."
Jeff sighed pointedly. "I hope you two females aren't attempting to guilt-trip me," he said gruffly.
Scott came into the kitchen with a stack of empty plates for the dishwasher. "How's it going, Clarissa," he said. "Thanks for telling everyone I lost my trousers and fell in the river. Remind me when that was, again?"
"I'm sure there must be a grain of truth in it somewhere," Penny smiled, watching him cross the room. "I have heard some tales of your Oxford days, you know."
"Scott, we were just discussing Ms. Meadows," said Jeff. "Penny's going to put Step 2 of our plan into operation just as soon as she can."
"Well," Penny mused, "just as soon as I can peel the dear girl away from John. They are positively glued together. I think it's absolutely adorable, myself."
# # # #
Penelope/Clarissa waylaid Karen the minute Karen left John to go to the bathroom. As she came back out into the corridor, the beautiful blonde socialite was there loitering against the wall, a full tumbler of whisky in each hand. "There you are, darling," she said breathily. "Come. Let's go for a walk. You and me, two girls together."
Karen followed her out into Kyrano's walled ornamental gardens where they joined the meandering path that wove through lush shrubberies, past tinkling fountains and around rockeries and delicately pruned rose bushes.
"You simply must tell me how you came to know John," Penelope/Clarissa smiled, taking a large swallow of her own drink. "He's the most divine man, but not terribly social. I always thought he'd end up a lonely old bachelor- although if I weren't so taken with his gorgeous older brother, I think I possibly would have had designs on him myself." She laughed at Karen's sudden look of panic. "Don't worry, dear girl, I wouldn't dream of it. He looks very happy now, I must say. So, pray- do tell your friend Clarissa."
They perched on a low wall and Karen proceeded to tell Penelope/Clarissa all about that fateful day in the library when she'd first laid eyes on John.
"I thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen," she admitted. "I think I fell for him before I even realised what was happening."
"Oh! How wonderful," the blonde said, wistfully. "What an absolute dream come true. I certainly wish Scott felt that way about me. But sadly, I'll always be silly, scatterbrained 'Clarissa B' to him." She sighed heavily and drank more scotch. "So, what did John tell you that he did for a living?"
Karen felt her blood tingle in her veins. She blinked, groped around in her brain for the right words. "He's an author," she ventured. "Em, and an astronomer. His books are all in the library. I've started reading them, they're good. He explains things easily."
"Yes, he does," Penelope/Clarissa agreed. "I did attempt to read one once, but admittedly I only got as far as page ten. I prefer the stars on the society pages, myself. What else did he tell you?"
"What do you mean, what else?" Karen said warily.
"Well, I've always got the impression that these boys do something else," the blonde murmured, lowering her voice. "Scott can get very cagey sometimes. I mean, I know he's a pilot, that's obvious. But I often get a sneaking suspicion there's more that he's not telling me. Don't you get that same feeling about John sometimes?"
Karen stared at her own whisky. "No," she said. "Why would I? He's honest. I trust him."
"Hmm. I do wish I could say the same thing about Scott." Penelope/Clarissa wobbled slightly on the wall, drank yet more scotch. "I do have designs on him, you know. But I can't bear the thought of him keeping secrets from me. I mean...well, one hears rumours."
"Rumours?" Karen asked, noting the way the woman's eyes rolled slightly. "About Scott, you mean?"
Penelope/Clarissa laughed, sloshing her drink. "Not personal rumours, darling. I believe he's all man, as they say. No, other rumours. Rumours about this place. What they get up to here. I just wondered, seeing as you were also a guest of theirs, whether they'd told you anything they hadn't told me."
Karen shrugged. "No, I don't think so. You know them much better than I do."
"My dear friend Tara Bingley had this absolutely divine theory that they were actually running an exclusive Male Escort Business out here. Can you imagine it?" She laughed out loud, pouring more whisky down her throat.
Karen stared, shocked, then laughed out loud herself. "Come to think of it," she grinned, "Scott did look a bit like a male escort yesterday, all polished up and groomed. He is handsome."
"Oh! Darling, you should have seen him when he was younger," Penelope/Clarissa cackled. "Goodness me, he was a liability!"
Karen smiled. "I'd still take John any day," she said, sipping at her own drink.
"A wise choice," the blonde smiled. "And a much safer bet."
"It's not that," Karen said. "John's..." she hesitated, looked around just in case someone was hiding in the bushes listening to them, "...well, John's...he's...um..."
"Good in bed?" the blonde cackled throatily.
Karen blushed wildly. "Well, yes, he is, he's actually terrific in bed, but it's not just that."
"Oh, my," Penelope/Clarissa grinned. "the mind absolutely boggles. Woof woof, what?"
"I love him. I mean, I love him and I'm in love with him. I love him in all the ways it must be possible to love someone. And here's me, someone who didn't even know what love was until I met John."
Penelope eyed the girl curiously. "I heard a rumour," she began cautiously, "that they were secret agents."
"Oh, Clarissa, that's ridiculous!" Karen blurted, then immediately regretted it. "I mean, I don't see it myself. They're just normal guys and they live out here because it's more financially viable to do so with the housing markets being so up and down these days."
"Is that what John said?" Penelope/Clarissa asked.
"Yes it is, and why would I disbelieve him?"
"Well, darling, because they've so much money they could afford a million houses anywhere they wanted without all having to live one on top of another. Five healthy, red-blooded males- and don't think I haven't noticed Alan's absence, although God only knows where he is and what he's up to, that young boy can't keep it in his trousers for one minute-," she paused, appearing to drift off, then blinked back into focus. "Where was I?"
"Secret agents," Karen sighed.
"Ah, yes. Secret agents for MFI, or CSI, or whatever that place is called. Oh, and then there was another rumour that was even more bizarre, and that's that they were all members of...oh, what's that organization called. Inter..." the blonde blinked lazily, peering into what was left of her glass of scotch. "International...you know. Rescue. That's it."
"International Rescue?" Karen said, wide-eyed. "How ridiculous!" She thought fast- this was her chance to prove she could keep a secret, even if there wasn't anyone here to witness it. "International Rescue are androids!"
"Andywhats?" Penelope/Clarissa asked, her eyebrows lifting upwards.
"Androids! Man-made humanoids, you know, like robots but much more intelligent. They're programmed by this big institute out in the Nevada desert, like Area 51 in the twentieth century. It might even be the same place. Anyway, they'd never send real people out on those missions they go on. It would be way too dangerous." Karen started laughing then, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. "That's a stupid rumour. International Rescue. There's not even an airport here, just a teeny weeny little landing strip for one plane."
"Well, I must admit it did seem pretty silly when I heard it, but you never know."
"They're androids, and these guys are real," Karen grinned. "Besides, even though I haven't known Virgil for very long, he doesn't strike me as the sort of guy who would want to damage those lovely piano playing hands of his. Imagine if he couldn't play his beloved jazz ever again!"
"That's true," Penelope/Clarissa admitted. "And how about John and his lovely lilac fingernails. Forgive me for saying it, darling, but that's not very butch."
"No, and he spent all evening making sure he didn't chip it, even when we were in bed," Karen added.
"Well. That settles it, they aren't engaged in any sort of macho profession. But I still say Scott's hiding something, and I aim to find out what it is!" With that, Penelope/Clarissa threw back her head and tipped the remainder of her whisky down her neck.
"How about if you don't, Clarissa?" said Karen, watching the woman nervously for any signs of a sudden mood switch. "Don't pressure him. If he's got anything to tell you, he'll do it when he's ready. I mean, he doesn't strike me as someone who would do anything to hurt anyone."
Penelope/Clarissa swayed slightly on the wall. "But I adore him, darling! I just need to know what it is that he's not telling me!" She fixed a pout to her berry-red lips.
"I don't know if he is hiding anything from you, but my advice would most definitely be to not push it," Karen said, thinking back to what had happened when she had tried to get to the bottom of John's apparent secretiveness. The mess she'd landed herself in!
"Oh, darling, perhaps I should just tell him how I feel!" Penelope/Clarissa cried dramatically, making Karen look around again in case anyone had heard the woman's desperate lament. "In fact, perhaps I should just tell him right now!" With that, Penelope/Clarissa launched herself off the wall and began running precariously towards the villa on her high heels with Karen in hot pursuit calling for her to stop and think about what she was doing.
"Oh, but darling, he needs to know," Penelope/Clarissa persisted, reaching the house and stumbling up the step, losing a shoe in the process.
Karen picked up the shoe and followed the hysterical blonde through the house, desperately trying to think of something to say to stop her in her pursuit of Scott.
Too late, she realised that they were already at the lounge, and, spotting Scott standing over by his father's desk, with all the others scattered round about, Penelope/Clarissa dashed in a sort of drunken shoeless zig zag across the room and threw her arms around Scott's neck, almost pushing him backwards over the desk.
"Scott, my darling, I love you madly!" she declared, and fixed her lips to his in a kiss of such passion that for a moment the whole room fell deathly silent, before a gasp rose from Tin-Tin and a muffled yelp came from Gordon, who nudged Virgil, who just stood there staring open-mouthed at the passionate clinch going on before his very eyes.
"I tried to stop her," Karen pleaded to John, clutching his shirt sleeve. "I honestly tried to stop her, but she was determined!"
John smiled, pulled her close. "It's okay, honey," he grinned, kissing the top of her head. "In fact, I'd say it's more okay than you think."
Karen pulled back and looked up at him suspiciously. "What do you mean, it's more okay than I think?"
# # # #
Jeff Tracy summoned John and Karen to the conference room. When they got there, Karen was surprised to see 'Clarissa' sitting demurely at the table, her hair neatly in place, makeup immaculate, not a trace of drunkenness or uncontrolled lust in sight. Scott was sitting on her left, although he was looking kind of pleased with himself, his blue eyes still somewhat heavy from the passionate kiss the blonde had engaged him in.
"John, you already know our visitor," Jeff began. "Ms. Meadows, may I introduce our friend and colleague, International Rescue's London agent, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward."
Lady Penelope stood up and extended her hand. "We meet again," she said, charmingly. "Although you must call me by my real name now."
Dazed, Karen shook the cool blonde's hand, looking at all the room's occupants in turn. Jefferson Tracy, who stood with a stern look on his face, the cool blonde, Scott- who was making an effort to look serious, and lastly John.
"What's going on?" she asked, plainly confused, and a little perturbed.
John sighed. "It was their idea," he said. "They wanted to make sure once and for all that you weren't a threat. Lady Penelope was here to question you."
"Question me? About what? About you guys?"
"To see if you would..." John looked down, picking at the star on his middle right finger.
"What?" said Karen. "Snitch?"
"No, Ms. Meadows, not 'snitch'," said Jeff Tracy kindly. "Lady Penelope is a trusted friend. She would not have unfairly trapped you into saying anything. Her aim was just to bring a different perspective to the matter. She had never met you before, but she is convinced..." he looked at Penelope, who continued in a warm, friendly manner.
"I am convinced that you're one of us, as it were," she smiled beautifully. "And that kiss I planted on poor Scott was my signal to say that everything was all right."
"I hasten to add that the kiss wasn't my idea," Scott interrupted, although he looked perfectly happy about it.
"So you mean to say you still didn't believe I wasn't a threat?" Karen said, staring at Scott, then at the newcomer, then back at Scott, because there was no way she could bring herself to stare at Jeff.
"Not entirely," Jeff admitted. "But Penny here is a woman of her word and if she says there's nothing to worry about, then I believe her. And now that she's given you the all-clear, I suggest we bring the whole matter to a complete close, once and for all. Ms. Meadows, Karen, if I may call you by your name, it is my absolute and honest pleasure to say, welcome to International Rescue."
# # # #
Karen was still in a daze an hour later as she lay in bed with John, relaxing under his warm caresses, her anger and indignation slowly melting away with each soft kiss he dropped onto her skin- her face, her throat, her collarbone, her sternum and then each breast in turn, savouring the taste of her nipples on the tip of his tongue.
"They still didn't believe me," she whispered. "Do I look like a double agent spy or something? Have I got 'bad guy' written across my head in big red letters?"
"Mmm," John murmured, licking the soft rounded globe of her left breast, his blond curl tickling her throat, his hands roving all over her.
"John, answer me, do I have 'bad guy' written across my head in..."
"I heard you," he responded. "Do I have 'deaf guy' written across my head in big red letters?"
She slapped his shoulderblade with the flat of her palm so that it made a nice, satisfactory smack. "Don't take the piss," she said, crossly.
John laughed. "God, settle down, woman. It's all over now. They one hundred percent believe you. End of story. Now shut up and let me make love to you."
"Hmm. I'm still not happy," Karen muttered, closing her eyes as his mouth returned to her body and began travelling downwards.
"I can make you happy," John murmured, his lips reaching the little dip of her belly button.
Karen sighed, leaning her head into the pillow. Her skin tingled under the caress of his hands and mouth as he worked expertly to arouse her, stroking, kissing, licking with the very tip of his tongue, making small wet circles everywhere he went.
"What's that?" John smiled. "I can't hear you."
"Just get on with it," Karen ordered him sternly.
He laughed. It vibrated against her belly, and then she was laughing too.
"Your poor father," she giggled. "I'll bet he was sleeping with a shotgun by the bed in case I sneaked into his room during the night and stole all his secrets."
"I'd have something to say if I found you in my father's room in the middle of the night," John grinned.
Karen sighed, stroking her lover's blond curl, gazing at him fondly. "You know you're the only man for me, John Tracy. There will never be another quite like you."
"Oh, you never know," John said mysteriously.
She met his eyes, read their dark blue depths, smiled when she realised what he was talking about. "Don't even think about it," she warned him with an arched eyebrow that looked just like the way he arched his eyebrow. "At least, not for a good while yet."
John crawled back up her body, rubbed his nose against hers, tickled her gently until she giggled and squirmed. "Don't you women have a body clock?" he said, kissing her face.
"Cheeky!" she protested, "I'm only twenty four!"
His lips found hers then, and he kissed her passionately, his tongue weaving its way into her mouth, his soft groans and steady breathing lulling her and exciting her all at once until eventually all coherent thought vanished, taken over by pure physical sensations as her body began priming itself to receive her lover's intimate affections.
"I love you, Karen," he whispered, preparing to enter her. "I always have loved you, I always will love you. I will never, ever stop loving you, not in this life, or the next, or even the one after that. I love you."
As she pulled him close and let him inside, Karen felt her heart swell inside her chest, a tiny burst of stars like a small galaxy forming somewhere deep inside her, sending pulsars and quasars and all kinds of other brand new electrical impulses to every last cell of her body, transforming her from who she had been into who she was now- a woman loved, a woman needed, a woman who belonged.
She held him close, joined him in the storm, clung to him for dear life.
"I love you too," she said. And wondered if it would ever be enough.
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Next- the finale