Kit wandered around aimlessly and bored. His hands hurt and he was getting fed up with not being able to use them. Wounded pride was an uncommon for thing for him as he wasn't typically a proud person but being so dependent on other people made him feel silly. Kit's life had been a gruelling struggle almost from the start and he'd always been accustomed to watching out for himself and being independent. The dependency he'd been forced into by his injuries was a bitter for him but still he continued as his ordinary self.

Ché quitted his airship when he saw Kit and decided to have a word with the young fellow. Something had been bothering him recently and he wanted to discover the cause of this something.

"Where's your other half?" Ché called walking over to Kit once he'd climbed down his ladder.

Kit turned almost startled at the unexpected call but greeted it with a smile nonetheless, "Outreach clinic. Doing some more tests and seeing about her medication. Only one chaperone at a time is allowed so I let Sportacus go with her. They should be back soon, hopefully."

"How are the hands?"

"Painful and rather annoying. They've bandaged them with the sole intent of me not using them. It looks like I'm wearing two oven mittens."

Ché chuckled sympathetically, "It does." Ché paused and then asked the question he'd wanted to ask, "Why are you wearing a skirt?"

"There is method to my madness. I'm wearing a skirt because when I need a wee I can't hold my willy because I can't use my hands. I also can't pull my underwear down and I didn't want people doing it for me. With a skirt on all I have to do is squat."

Ché looked at Kit with a variety of different expressions crossing his face. He had to admit that it was an ingenious idea even though it was one he'd never use himself. Kit seemed rather amused at the looks Ché gave him.

"Whose skirt is it?" Ché asked finally intrigued by Kit's ingenuity.

"Bessie's. I had to ask all the girls in town and none would lend me a skirt. Robyn would have but they were all too long, Sportacus has a thing about her showing herself off."

"I understand that." Ché broke in well aware of his friend's attitude to such things.

Kit suddenly seized upon a thought and asked the question that had popped into his head, "Is he frigid? I don't mean nasty but in the sexual sort of way."

Ché opened his eyes wide at the plainness of Kit's question and how it had been asked. He then burst out laughing and almost fell to ground because he was laughing so hard. The question had been entirely out of the blue and had been asked so casually it seemed unreal.

Once he'd recovered himself Ché straightened himself up and cleared his throat. He couldn't rightly give Kit an answer to that question. It wasn't out of politeness regarding Sportacus' personal life but because he didn't know. He and Sportacus had been friends for many years and thinking back Ché realised he'd never once seen Sportacus with a woman nor heard him speaking of one. Shaking his head he tried to recall any attraction that Sportacus may have shown to any variety of women that he'd met but there was nothing there. It was extremely odd.

Ché simply shrugged as an answer to Kit's question. Kit pulled a face which showed both confusion and a little disappointment. If anyone were to know a lot about Sportacus it would be Ché. Ché's shrug had confused him somewhat as it showed that Ché didn't know either.

Kit set himself a task to find out the truth, 'perhaps Robyn might know something,' he thought to himself. It was quite likely that Robyn would have been told something in passing or reference more than factually. Looking up he saw the airship returning and decided he'd ask Robyn once Sportacus was out of the way. Asking Sportacus directly was out of the question just yet and would most likely be like talking to a brick wall.

Sportacus jumped down from the airship and offered to carry Kit up the ladder as he knew that the younger man wanted to see Robyn. Kit agreed and was quickly carried up. Sportacus returned back to the ground and Ché could see there was a slight sadness in his friend's eyes.

"What's wrong, amigo?" Ché asked a little concerned for his friend.

Sportacus shook his head, "she won't talk to me. Something happened in the cemetery whilst I was arguing with you and she won't tell me what it is. She always tells me things but I can't get anything out of her. She's also hardly eating. I don't know what it is. Have I done something wrong?"

Ché nodded understanding. "I've been a father sixteen times, a grandfather twenty times and a great grandfather six times. That's forty two children in three generations and believe it or not but they are all different. They're a mix of me, my wife and their parents and grandparents. Some of my children either spoke to me or their mother or some of them spoke to neither of us. It was hard but I learnt that if they didn't want to talk they don't talk no matter how you try."

"Is this supposed to help?" Sportacus asked with a doubtful tone in his voice.

"It will if you hear me out." Ché scolded annoyed at being interrupted, "Robyn will tell you in her own good time if you leave it alone. The more you pressure her the more she will run away. Whatever happened has most likely put her off her food and you're making it worse. It sounds harsh but leave her alone, she'll sort this out on her own."

Sportacus wasn't sure that this was the right way to deal with the problem but agreed to try it nonetheless. If anyone knew anything about bringing up children it was Ché and despite this bit of advice being doubtful Ché's advice had been infallible in the past. He'd often asked Ché over the many years he'd been looking after Robyn what he should do when and how to approach things and it had always worked. The letters Ché always sent back were full of pointers and some with spider diagrams or flow charts to make things even easier. Without Ché's guidance bringing up Robyn would have been harder than it had been and Sportacus didn't know how he'd have managed.

"Ok," Sportacus began, "I trust you. I'll try it. If it doesn't work Robyn always has Kit, he seems to be better at cheering Robyn up than me."

Ché nodded, "he's almost the same age as her give or take three years. He's also been through a lot much like Robyn. They understand each other. Perhaps he's easier to talk to because Robyn's concerned she might hurt you by telling you certain things. You worry about her too much and she knows that."

Sportacus couldn't deny this. Sometimes he thought that Ché knew him too well. They had been friends for more years than he could count and his friend's departure from town in a few days would sadden him but they could still keep in touch. Letters had been their main form of correspondence for a very long time and as much as Ché's visit had been a surprise it had been very welcome.

Sportacus smiled and hugged his friend and the gentle giant returned the hug. He would miss Sportacus but they would see each other again.