"The Greatest Discovery" Part Nine A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.

Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it.

Nikki was wrapped in a blanket watching television when Jane opened the door. The exchanged the usual hello's and Jane hurried to her bedroom, on the premise that she had to get out of her wet clothes. John was not in the window; in fact her window was closed and locked. Jane ran to Nikki to ask how her window got locked. "I locked it, the wind was whipping it back and forth and for some reason it doesn't close well unless it's locked." Jane turned and walked back to the bedroom. Even if he had been here, he would have left; he didn't like to sit outside in the rain if he didn't have to. She sat on the edge of the bed, and then flopped backward. Maybe tonight would not be the night to catch up on any sleep.

Richard stared across at his nephew. He saw the wild child, but he could see beyond. A good haircut, a good suit and some nice Italian leather shoes and he would be on the road to success. It was all about image. John had that je ne sais croix, about him. Richard wished that there was a way to siphon it out and use it for himself, but it was impossible. No, he would have to have John in his corner, working with hi instead of against him, if he was going to take this business to the levels that it was meant to go. "Is there anything that you need John, anything that you want?" Richard was grasping at straws, not knowing just how to communicate with John without barking orders of some sort. John looked at his uncle with a forlorn frown. "I do not know. What should I need? You are a man, perhaps this is why I came here, to find out what a man needs." Richard was ecstatic with this epiphany. John needed something from him and had been man enough to seek him out. Richard could not have been more pleased with the situation. This was just the breakthrough that he had been looking for. He leaned forward resting his hands on his knees. "There are a lot of things that a young man needs. I think you need to spend more time with men, than with women for starters." John cocked his head to the side and pondered the thought. That might actually be a good idea. When he spent time with Jane, he was more interested in touching her than anything else lately. He was tired of the rejection, of her pushing him away whenever he got close to her. Perhaps she needed time away from him to find out if she wanted him around or not. "Go on." John pled. Richard sank back into his chair, deep in thought, trying to figure out what it was that John wanted to hear. "You need to learn to read and write; this is very important." John knew that, Kathleen and Jane had stressed that more than once with him. None of them knew that he had been spending time in secret, going through all of his books and trying to remember his early lessons. His mind had been a steel trap, for he was doing quite well. He would not share that tidbit with Richard though. Richard was enjoying this. "You need your family John, all of it, not just Kate. You need someone to be like a father to you." John leaned forward in his seat. "I had a father, he is gone now." Richard saw the pain in John's expression as he had uttered those words. He suddenly felt compassion for the six year old child that was abandoned at the gates of hell. He was at a loss for words. John felt this too, so he went on himself. "What did you take me from there?" There was no anger in John's voice, no indifference, it was just a question." Why was Richard so compelled to feel for John. What was it about tonight that made his empathy run so deep? Was it due to the fact that John had come to him finally, or was it just the fact that this was his nephew, in some kind of pain, looking for relief? "I really thought that it was the right thing to do. You are my blood, I searched for many years to find your folks and you. I don't really think that I believed I would find you, but I did and I really believe that you belong here, with your remaining family, to follow in your father's footsteps." John didn't really understand that metaphor yet, but he pretended he did.

The men lay face down in a pool of their own blood. Cheetah lay helpless in the back of the truck, moaning softly in pain. Tarzan took the knife and cut the binding, setting her free. He could sense that it was too late. She was not long for this world. She lifted her hand and caressed his cheek with the back of it, and slowly closed her eyes. "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he yelled as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He raced back to the jungle with her, hardly feeling the dead weight of her lifeless body. Upon reaching his cave, he carefully placed her inside and ran to get some cool water for her. He returned with a deep leaf filled with cool water from the river. She looked asleep. She didn't look pained, but only peaceful. Tarzan tried to fool himself into believing that she was only asleep, and attempted to pour some water into her mouth. Her heart did not beat any more. He took her hand and held it up to his cheek, almost slapping himself with it. He muttered the sounds that they understood between the two of them, but she did not respond. Hoping against all hope that she had just played dead for the men, Tarzan sat and waited it out. Soon she would come to, soon she would be up reprimanding him for something or other. Soon... Hours passed before he would believe that hope was lost. Cheetah had passed into the great unknown. He mourned her, he cried, he screamed, he sobbed, he beat the ground, he beat his knuckles bloody against a tree. She was not coming back to him. She was gone. Again, Tarzan would be alone.

John finally realized what he was doing here. It had nothing to do with bonding, or finding out what he really needed out of life, it was really to find out what Richard was up to. If he could have Richard believing that they might possibly be on the same side, perhaps things would go more smoothly for everyone involved. "I must go now." John stood and Richard stood as well. "If you must, but you are welcome to stay." John gave Richard a sideways look that Richard understood all too well. It was one of distrust. He could not afford to back step now, not after having accomplished so much this night. "You can stay, and leave any time you like John. I promise not to keep you here against your will." Did he really mean that? John was not willing to find out just yet. Best to keep these things moving slow. "I need to go. But, thank you for the drink and the warmth." He meant the fire, but Richard thought that he may have also meant the company. "You are welcome any time John. Thank you for dropping by tonight. I mean it, come by anytime." John headed to the French doors, opened them and stepped out into the night. It was a shame, it was cold and wet and it was warm and dry here. Why would he leave? He still didn't trust Richard. He had much on his mind.

John sat by Jane's window watching. She was half on the bed, with her feet on the floor, fully dressed, yet sound asleep. She had closed her window, but it was unlocked. He was unsure as to whether or not he should go in, or perhaps knock. Should he tell her where he was this night? Or should he keep that information to himself. She would not understand, would she? Out of everyone in the world that he knew, Jane was the only one that he trusted completely. He hated having had put her in danger just for knowing him. He felt sorry for all of the trouble that that she had gotten into over him. How could he repay her? Jane waited patiently, watching the different expressions cross John's face. If the window were opened, he would have known that she was awake, but he was not intoned to her through the glass. Something was definitely on his mind, was he brooding or melancholy? Just when she thought he was going to open the window, he pulled his hand away and pulled back. Quickly she rose from the bed and pulled the window opened. "John, don't go." She called out to him. He heard her and turned back toward her. "You were asleep." She smiled and raised her hand to brush his cheek. 'Not yet I wasn't. Come in. Where were you?" John didn't want Jane to be upset so he only told her part of his story. He told her about the older woman whom he had saved from the mugger and who had offered him money for helping. Jane smiled knowing that he must have made an old woman very happy because not only did he not take her money, he walked her home and didn't hurt her.

John leaned up against the window sill, trying to decide if he should ask to stay, or if he should just go. Jane approached him and took his hand. "Sit John, you look exhausted." Together they sat on the edge of the bed, neither speaking, neither letting go of the other's hand. John's mind could not free itself of the images of Cheetah. A tear escaped from his eye, and then another and another until he could no longer hold back. All of the amassed events had just crept up on him, he was emotionally exhausted. Jane wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her. He rested his head in the crook of her neck and cried until the tears would no longer come. The two of them lay back on the bed, holding each other, not letting go. "It's going to be all right John, I promise." Jane spoke softly into John's ear. He shook his head. "I don't think so Jane."