Jam, Epilogue

By Jill Weber

As usual, the characters are not mine, they belong to Sony and Darkhorse.

Slate's idea of cleaning the gel off Big Guy was a gem. However, it was a time consuming process. Hunter was feeling queasy by the time the Pit Crew managed to pry the hatch open.

"There!" Mack said with considerable satisfaction when the hatch finally came open.

"Thank you," Hunter said tiredly, as he hauled his aching body out of Big Guy's cockpit. He stretched, luxuriating in being able to reach out and not touch anything. He headed for the ladder to the floor, just a trifle unsteady.

"You OK, Lieutenant?" Mack asked.

"Yeah, sure," Hunter said, not very convincingly. He reached the bottom of the ladder with no trouble. However, as soon as he set foot on the deck, he stepped on a puddle of soapy water and went flat on his back with a 'oomph' of lost breath.

Jo grabbed Slate by the arm. "C'mon," she said, hustling the surprised scientist out of the Pit and into a small room to one side.

It was just as well that Hunter was knocked speechless, considering what he really, really wanted to say at this point. When he regained his breath, he remembered that Slate was present. Alarmed and embarrassed, he looked around.

"Where's Slate?" he asked.

"She went to help Jo change her bandage," Garth said blandly.

"Yeah, it got all greasy," Mack said.

Hunter sighed with relief.

"C'mon, Lieutenant, let's get you to the people doctor," Mack said.

"If you're a good boy, we'll take you out to dinner," Garth said.

"Anything but peanut butter," Dwayne muttered.

"Actually, we were thinking of pancakes," Mack said. "With lot of jam on them."

Jo shut the door silently and Mack and Garth hustled Dwayne off to sick bay.

Looking around, Slate realized that they were in the lavatory. She looked back at Jo and pushed her glasses back up her nose.

"Give him a break," Jo said. "It's embarrassing enough as it is." She pulled at the latex glove that protected her bandage from getting dirty. "Here, you'd better help me with this thing. Can't make liars out of the guys, right?"

Slate made a wry face. "As Rusty would say… 'Whatever'."