Dikdiks Don't Play Tea Party

By Fanficworm

Chapter 4 – Under My Nose

"Well," Wally looked up at the sky, a pleasant sight especially since the stars were good and clear that night, "I guess it's a little too late to play poker."

"Nonsense," Terry snorted, hauling the bag of beer up the front yard. "The night is still … um... middle-aged. We can still play. I don't think the younguns are gonna mind stayin' over at Check's and amusin' themselves nicely for another hour or so."

Kid Muscle gathered up his beef teriyaki bowls. "Roxanne will mind. If she was here instead of at that stupid jury duty with Trixie, she'd have Junior in bed."

Terry produced the spare key from his pocket and opened the door, sneering. "You're whipped, Kid. Now Trixie, she leaves me alone. I never have to worry about her beatin' me up."

"I am not 'whipped'. In fact, I can do whatever I want, except let the fans—" He gasped, dropping his beef teriyaki bowls. "Oh no! That fan! She kissed me on the lips! And it was caught on tape! ROXANNE'S GONNA KILL ME!"

Kid Muscle ran back and forth the front yard, flailing his arms around, trampling over the "cow and rice" bowls and annoying the neighbours (who were already in bad tempers from Perceval's crying). Terry rolled his eyes and entered the Edwardian home. "Not whipped, huh?"

Wally stuck out a foot, knowing what would occur soon. Kid Muscle, in his frenzied state, would run past Wally and trip over the outstretched foot. Then, he'd lie on the lawn, clutching his ankle in agony for a while (it never quite healed after that spar with Terry) and then calm down. It was a calculated fact… one that was also sometimes fun to watch. Three… two… one…

Crash!

"Owww! Owww! I hurt my foot!" Kid Muscle howled as he lay on the lawn, clutching his ankle in agony. "Make the pain stop!"

"With pleasure!" a neighbour yelled from her bedroom window, tossing an empty perfume bottle in his direction. "UGH! You Chôjins save the world, but you can't be good neighbours to save your lives!"

"I second that!" A barbell landed on Kid Muscle's head, courtesy of the angry neighbour on the other side of Checkmate's house.

Soon enough even the neighbours on the opposite street started throwing rocks and trash at Kid Muscle and yelling angry comments at him. Well, that autistic girl who lived opposite the house couldn't exactly yell, but the rest of the angry mob did. Wally couldn't really do much but watch and fear for his own life; the neighbours were out for blood.

Hearing all the ruckus, Terry popped his head out the door and dodged his way through the onslaught of rocks and assorted things. He took one look at Kid Muscle's bruised, broken and unconscious body, gasped and… picked up a beautiful diamond necklace that lay on Kid Muscle's nose, most likely thrown by that rich woman down the street. He whistled. "Trixie's gonna love me for this!"

"Terry!" Wally slung Kid Muscle's arm over his shoulders and glared at Terry.

The Texan snapped back into reality. "Whoops. My bad. Sorry, Kid." He helped Wally drag Kid Muscle back into the house… after picking up another necklace.

Kid Muscle looked up at the sky, a wistful expression on his face. "No problem, Terry, but why'd you guys wake me up from my dream?" He sighed. "I was in the most beautiful place, with all this fire and brimstone and some hefty guys with horns poking me with pitchforks."

Wally and Terry looked at him for a while, perturbed. Just a while. And then they quickened their pace.

And so the three entered the house, and seeing everyone seemed to be upstairs, decided to check up on them. Well, Wally and Terry wanted to check up on them. Kid Muscle just wanted to ask Checkmate if he could use a few bandages.

From the hallway, laughter floated over from the room once filled with loud crying and pleading: Perceval's room. The funny thing was, it sounded like Checkmate's laughter, and Perceval was strangely silent…

Something smelled fishy, and for once, it wasn't Wally's breath.

Wally crept closer to the room. The laughter's volume slowly decreased until it became a soft, quiet laughter. And yet quiet laughter that sounded not quite sane.

He took a hesitant step into the room. "Check?"

Checkmate sat there in the darkness, huddled on the chair next to Perceval's crib, dishevelled, wide-eyed, twitching, and quivering with mirth. Considering how prickly he could be about his looks sometimes and the lack of food, bathroom breaks, sleep and silence he'd had for the past few days, it was no wonder he bordered on the unstable. "Hello, Wally," he twitched.

Kid Muscle sidled in to join them, massaging his bruised shoulder. "Hey Check, you mind if I use a few bandages and stuff? Your neighbours got a little…" he stopped at the sight of Checkmate, "…cranky…"

"Those boys have gone off to who knows where!" Terry stormed into the room. "Dik Dik was supposed to be watchin' 'em, and If anything happened to Jesse, Trixie would kill me five times before I hit the—"

Terry and Kid Muscle stared at Checkmate a moment. Terry took a nice, slow step back, and Kid Muscle bolted to hide behind Wally, muttering something about men in white suits.

Checkmate rose from his seat, seeming to contain himself a little more. "Of course, young Muscle. Use some of my bandages!" He twitched again. "Thou knowest where they are, dost thou not?"

Kid Muscle backed away slowly. "Uh… Yeah… I do, now that you mention it… ThanksalotCheckI'mgonnagonowbye!" And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom to dress his wounds and hide.

Wally blinked and turned back to Checkmate. "So… You put Perceval to sleep, huh?" He eyed the still figure in the wooden crib. It looked a little too still. False alarm; he was looking at a pillow. The baby was fine.

"Yes! He sleeps soundly!" The walls of Checkmate's reserve gave way, and he cracked up laughing again. "It was so… very… simple." He yawned, rubbing his puffy eyes. "You would not believe how easily he falleth asleep and how hard it is to wake him!"

Wally folded his arms. No, he couldn't believe how simple it all was. Checkmate spent four days trying to get Perceval to sleep; that baby must have been taking caffeine or something. "Try us."

Checkmate yawned again, ran a hand through his uncombed blue hair. "All right, if ye insist."


"Ere Kiki left to visit her mother, she gave me a tonne of instructions on how to take care of the children… except she left out how to send Perceval to sleep. 'Twas understandable, too. With Kiki, he seemed to be in a permanent coma. But with me…suffice to say he is a mama's boy."


Checkmate slumped into the chair, careful not to hurt the bundle he held in his arms lest he made it cry even louder. The proud king was defeated, and by his own son too—an infant son at that! What was wrong with him? Was he not one of the foremost wrestlers in the IWF? Did he not have the castle's defences? Did he not have the knight's speed? Most importantly, did he not have the intelligence and the cunning of the king, and not to mention the wisdom of age? With all this in his corner, he should have figured out a simple solution to this particular dilemma by now.

Unless…

Unless the peaceful yet monotonous life Checkmate nowadays led made him… soft. Nay! Inconceivable! He spent a few hours a day training, and played games of logic and strategy for fun. His mind could not have left him so early in life, and surely there had to be an idea somewhere in his vast mind that could solve his problem.

Doubtful. So far, it had been a losing battle. Perceval was most definitely his father's son. Sunshine used to tell stories of how hard it was to send an infant Checkmate to sleep, of how Checkmate would just cry for days on end. How Checkmate wished his son didn't inherit that trait.


"For what seemed like an eternity, I churned out idea after idea to get him to nod off to sleep, but all ended in vain."

"You mean you kept looking at yourself in the mirror?"

"Nah, Wally, he just meant nothing would work. Now hush up; the man's tryin' to tell a story. Go on, Check."

"Thank you. As I was saying, I tried just about everything…"


What else did he have up his sleeve? Surely, he didn't attempt something. Singing? Tried that on the second evening. Diaper changes? Tried that numerous times to no avail. Food, perhaps? Nay, Perceval kept rejecting his bottle of milk. Why Perceval and Victoria abhorred it and why Kiki was so opposed to it, Checkmate never figured out. What was so wrong about scalding hot milk that could give third degree burns?

Ah! Singing! He could try singing Perceval to sleep! Wait… didn't he think that already? Yes. Yes, he did.

"'Tis hopeless," he moaned, letting his head hang low. It was all over. He had let an infant beat him, and he was prepared for the consequences. He could just imagine the looks on everyone else's faces should they hear of the news. They would mainly laugh their heads off, their faces contorting in all sorts of strange and simply wonderful positions…

Wait a minute. Faces.. contorting…

Eureka.


"I lay on the verge of giving up when I recalled that people sometimes pulled faces to appease their children and make them sleep. I supposed I had nothing to lose but my hearing, so I decided to try it."


He rose from his seat and looked down at the bundle he held in his arms. Perceval stopped crying awhile, pouted, folded his plump arms and glared at him with defiant green eyes as though to say, "don't you dare".

Checkmate glared back. "Oh, but I will."

He leaned in closer, scrunching up his face and.… cooing? Since when did he coo? He most certainly didn't coo around Victoria, except for maybe that one time when she was a few weeks old and Kiki, Roxanne and Trixie accidentally overheard…

Whatever he did, the result was very pleasing. Perceval instantly perked up and attempted to applaud his father. However, his hands kept missing each other so he chose to giggle instead.

Checkmate smiled. He was on to something here.


"The faces I pulled were—I must admit— mediocre, but they calmed him nonetheless. When I ran out of faces with the King, I simply placed him back in his crib and changed chess pieces. He seemed to like the Knight and Castle."


The King, Knight and Castle had already had their turn; now it was time for the big gun. Checkmate pushed the two buttons on his shoulders. Following that came the brief period of headless discomfort, the re-emergence of his head and the change of its shape, and finally the splitting of his brick feet to create horse hoofs.

Perceval looked up at him from his crib, eyes widened and mouth rounded in a slight "o" shape. He titled his head and smiled. "Ooh…"


"Once I changed into my Grand Slam mode, he looked at me awhile, and then fell straight asleep."


While Perceval quietly snored, Checkmate frowned as he again slumped into the chair. He wasted four days at this crib trying almost everything imaginable, when this exceedingly simple solution was right under his nose. He could have used that time he wasted to clean up the house! Or train! Or sleep!

He paled. Victoria! Kiki would most certainly not approve of the way he handled things! Not only had he made their son cry for four days, but he'd also left their six-year-old daughter to fend for herself for four days, without food, clean clothing, and any form of company! Was he becoming Sunshine?

"…Yes," he slurred, and dozed off as well.

Terry raised an eyebrow. "That's all you had to do? Pull a few faces?"

Checkmate yawned. "Pretty much."

The object of Checkmate's forced insomnia lay in the crib sleeping innocently enough. Funny how such a cute little thing could cause all that fuss. Terry frowned at Checkmate again, this time fully taking in how awful the poor guy looked.

"How's about we get you away from this room, Check?" he said, laying a sympathetic-like hand on Checkmate's shoulder. "You'd probably wanna see how Vicky—"

"Victoria."

Terry rolled his eyes. Never did get the whole "no nicknames" thing. He removed the hand from the shoulder. "How Victoria's doin'."

Checkmate smiled. "Splendid idea; I think she is in her room playing with young Cassidy." He yawned again and left Wally and Terry by themselves. They followed him out, of course, not wanting to get stuck with Perceval.

Speaking of sons… Terry rubbed his chin. "Where'd Jesse got off to, though? Trixie'd want him and Cassidy asleep by now."

" 'Not whipped, huh?' " Wally shot Terry a knowing look.

Terry glared at him. "Oh, quit it."

They stopped in front of Vicky—Victoria's—room, where Kid Muscle stood outside peering in. Despite the incident just a few minutes ago, he feverishly jotted down notes with a notepad and pencil that seemingly came out of nowhere, chuckling.

What the heck did he think he was doing, spying on the girls like that? For shame! Terry leaned over to look at the notes. "What's that you got there, Kid?"

Instantly, the notepad and pencil disappeared behind Kid Muscle's back, their owner flashing a fake grin. "Nothing."

Terry frowned. "Bull. Lemme see." He took a swipe at the notepad, but missed. "C'mon. What is it?"

Kid Muscle poked out his tongue. "Maybe I don't wanna show you."

"Fine with me; I'll just take it." Another swipe at the notepad. Dang! Missed again! "What is it?" Swipe, miss. "What were you writin'?" Swipe, miss. "It better not be somethin' bad about my daughter!"

"SHH!"

The two Chôjins stopped their little squabble to see Wally and Checkmate glowering at them. Seeing them to be silent, they looked into the room. Laughter threatened to burst out of them like ten pounds of manure threatened to burst out of a five-pound bag. Kid Muscle hid the notepad in his bandages, peeked inside again; his reaction to what cropped up inside the room the same as Checkmate's and Wally's.

Terry shook his head. At their age, they should have stopped their silly "let's spy on the girls" ways. They should've known, being mature men now, that snooping on other people (and their stuff) was an invasion of their privacy,. What was so interesting to them about little girly pretend games, anyway? There oughtn't to have been anything worth fussing ov—

HOLY COW! WAS THAT DIK DIK IN DRAG?

To be continued…

Checkmate's No. 1 Fan and CidOtaku: Sorry, but you're going to have to wait until the next chapter for what Victoria's going to say about Checkmate… and what Cassidy's going to say about Terry. I am open to suggestions. ^_~