Disclaimer:
The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Dylan Mackenzie belongs to me.
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It was raining. The animals had arrived and been settled into their new home, and Ty had finally enticed the muddy children back into the house by telling them that the new piglet and his goat friend needed a nap. The boys had been reluctant to leave them, but when their father said that he would get the train set out for them, they had hurried home quickly, shedding their waterproofs and wellingtons at the backdoor before rushing inside to find the train set for him to assemble. Ty followed a minute or two later, having had to forcibly remove the rabbit from Izzy's arms before he could stow it safely in the run that had been delivered with it.
Ty'd turned around from putting the rabbit back to see Izzy sitting on the wet and muddy ground, crying her eyes out. Picking her up, he'd cuddled her tight as she'd sobbed into his neck. She wanted her rabbit back. Or as Izzy put it, "Wabbit!"
Carrying her back to the house, he'd managed to soothe her with promises of a biscuit, grinning to himself that obviously a biscuit rated higher than a rabbit in Izzy's book. Shedding his own boots at the door, he stripped Izzy out of her wet and muddy overalls, and with her snug in his arms, went to find her something clean to wear.
"Daddy, we got the train ready!" Cameron yelled, as he walked past the door to the living room.
"Okay, guys. I need to get Izzy some pants - she sat in the mud." Ty stepped back to look. "Uh, boys, I think we should play with it in your bedroom. Mommy won't be happy if we muss up in there."
"You can make her happy," Cameron grinned at him.
"Yeah, you can… kiss her!" Hamish giggled.
"Guys, if we muss up after she's tidied, even kissing her won't help us," their dad grinned back at them. "Come on now - bring it in your bedroom."
He chuckled as he heard his sons muttering together as they picked up the box and its accompanying bits and followed him. In their room he stopped and stared. With Izzy's cot in there, too, there really wasn't very much room for the train track. Ty pondered on it as he found Izzy some clean clothes and dressed her.
"Okay, boys, there's no room in here. We'll put it up in mine and mommy's bedroom. That's got lots of space for a train track."
By the time Dill arrived home from Inverness, where she'd decided she needed to do a little last minute shopping before their guests arrived, the train track ran around the bedroom, under the bed, into their bathroom and out again, and balanced precariously as it went over the small sofa.
Ty was sat cross-legged, Izzy in his lap, masterminding what looked to Dill to be an impending railroad crash while Izzy clapped excitedly, yelling, "More, more!"
"Go on, daddy!" Hamish yelled at him, whilst jumping up and down on the bed.
Cameron, however, was laying on his stomach, his chin in his hands and his feet waving in the air. "Daddy, you're going to kill all those tiny people," he said seriously. "Should McQueen's kill people, daddy?" He looked up at Ty, his eyes questioning.
"Good grief!" came Dill's voice from the doorway. "I expect you guys will want this left up, won't you? I suppose I should be grateful you didn't put it up in the living room."
"Daddy said no," Hamish told her, his bouncing stopping immediately when he saw her.
"Good daddy," she smiled, going over to Ty and kissing him on the top of his head. "However…."
"Okay, what'd I do wrong this time?" he asked.
"You didn't do anything wrong, my lover. But you know that odd looking wooden thing by the back door? The thing that's just a dozen bits of wood sticking up?" she chuckled.
"Yes," Ty said, wondering what exactly this was about.
"That's for the wellies. You take them off and put them on there. It keeps the rain out," Dill told him.
"And now our boots are full of water," he groaned, realising what she meant.
"That about sums it up," Dill laughed. "Never mind. They'll dry. I'll bring them in and put them by the Aga. I take it from the pile of dripping waterproofs that the creatures arrived while I was out?"
"Oh yes, mummy!" Cameron cried, standing and almost jumping for joy. "Humphrey is beautiful, mummy. Come and see her!"
"Humphrey?" Dill asked, "You called your piglet Humphrey?"
She stared at Ty, who simply shrugged his shoulders. "Don't ask me. I have no idea where the name came from. Tell her your goat's name, Hamish." He grinned at Dill. "This'll kill you."
Hamish grinned at her. "Gussie," he announced, "Gussie the goat!"
"Dare I ask what Izzy called her rabbit? Or is it better that I don't know?" Dill smiled.
"Daddy!" Izzy chuckled.
"Yes, darling, I know you've got your daddy. But what did you call your rabbit?" Dill smiled at the toddler still snuggled in Ty's lap.
Both boys began to giggle and McQueen nodded. "She called it Daddy," he told her. "Maybe because it's white."
Dill started to laugh. Sitting down on the bed, she laughed until she cried, much to the delight of the boys, though she frightened Izzy, who clung to Ty, her little face terrified.
"You're scaring Izzy," Ty told her, stroking Izzy's hair to soothe her. "For God's sake, Dill, stop it. It wasn't that funny!"
"Oh, it is," she laughed. "I have three dratted animals I didn't want, and now they're called ridiculous names!" Dill sat up and wiped at her face. "I'm sorry, boys, but those are silly names. Lord knows what the vet will think when he comes over."
"Why is the vet coming?" Ty asked, rocking Izzy in his arms.
"He's coming over to check them out and find out if they're boys or girls, and also to give them any shots they might need," she told him.
"But mummy, Humphrey is a girl," Cameron told her earnestly. "She has lots of nipples that daddy says are for sucking on."
Dill eyed McQueen. "Oh yes, daddy would know all about that," she smirked.
She chuckled again as Ty blushed to the roots of his hair. He was saved only by the sound of the doorbell.
"Holy hell! That's Valentine and Isabella!" Dill cried. "Everyone else comes round the back. Okay, guys - action stations. Best behaviour, boys. And you," she turned to Ty, "don't let Izzy eat any bugs."
"No, ma'am," he grinned, standing up, a sleepy Izzy in his arms. "Come on, marines - let's go meet daddy's friends."
"Sir, yes, sir!" both boys chorused, grinning.
"Now if you could just get them saluting," Dill laughed. She didn't see the grin Ty gave the boys as she left to answer the door.
By the time she'd hustled their guests into the house and out of the rain, Ty and the boys were lined up in the hallway to say hello.
"Now remember boys, Isabella can't hear you, so the sign, just like daddy showed you," he whispered.
"Okay daddy," Cameron said, smiling.
"Don't wanna!" Hamish told him.
Moving Izzy so she lay with her head resting on his shoulder, Ty crouched down and whispered, "Please, Hamish, do it for daddy."
"No," Hamish cried. "Don't wanna!"
"Hamish, please," he pleaded.
At which point Hamish threw himself onto the floor at Valentine's feet and began to scream, while Cameron smiled shyly and gave the mini salute that was hello in sign language.
"Well, I've never had that effect before," Valentine smiled. "Which young man is this?"
McQueen turned, smiling. "I'm afraid it's Hamish. He didn't want to say hello."
"So you must be Cameron." Valentine crouched down and offered him his hand to shake. "Very nice to meet you, young man. That was a very nice hello."
Cameron shook the hand that was extended and smiled shyly up at Valentine. "Daddy showed me how," he whispered.
Dill frowned at Hamish. "Ty, give me Izzy and you see to Hamish. We'll go into the living room and take his audience away."
McQueen passed the sleepy child to Dill and stood frowning over Hamish as the others left them alone in the hallway. "Okay, young man, that is enough. Get up off the floor now and stop this behaviour!"
Hamish ignored him, pausing only in his screaming to draw breath.
"I'm going to count to three, Hamish, and then I'm going to get really cross. One…" Hamish ignored him. "Two…." The young boy began to crawl away. "Three!" McQueen bent down and picked his son up, flinging him over his shoulder as he lashed out with his feet. "I am not putting up with this, young man! I know mommy doesn't smack you, but you are coming close to having a smack from daddy! Stop kicking me, and if you bite me again I will bite you back!"
McQueen carried the tear-streaked boy into his bedroom and dropped him onto his bed. "You had better stay here until you can behave yourself. I don't want you leaving this room until you are ready to come and say sorry. Do you hear me, marine?" he fairly yelled at the small boy cowering on the bed.
Hamish nodded, terrified of this strange shouting man where his daddy used to be.
McQueen turned on his heel and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him and taking a deep breath. Dill was standing in the hallway. "What the hell was that? We heard every word you yelled at him. He's three years old, Ty. Do you want to traumatise him for life? Get your arse back in there and say sorry for screaming at him. He's not one of your marines!"
"I'll apologise when he comes out, but I'm not going back in there now," he told her, heading into the living room to greet Valentine and Isabella properly.
Shaking her head, Dill followed him, knowing he was right, but still not happy about it.
Later that evening, their guests safely ensconced in Izzy's room for the night, Dill and Ty retired to bed themselves.
Coming out of the shower McQueen found Dill tucked up under the covers. "Are you asleep there, Dill?" he asked, a little disappointed.
"No, my lover. Just snuggling until I had you to snuggle with," she smiled, her face appearing from under the duvet.
"Are you cold? Want me to turn on the heating?"
"No, just get your hot self into bed with me," Dill laughed, throwing back the duvet for him as he shed his towel and slid in with her. "Oh, that's so much better," she giggled, wrapping herself around him. "My own personal hot water bottle."
"Hell, Dill, your feet are freezing!" he cried. "Get'em off me!"
She giggled more, tickling him with her cold feet. "Oh, where's that big, brave marine when you need him? Afraid of my tiny, little cold feet? You big baby."
"If you don't stop it, I swear I'll tickle you," Ty laughed. "I'll go for those tiny, little feet first." He grabbed for her feet under the covers.
"I don't know about your twisted sense of anatomy, Ty, but that is not my feet!" Dill gasped.
"Whoa there!" he squawked, as her hand grabbed at him. "That's fighting dirty, Dill."
"Is it below the belt?" she giggled.
"That is so corny I can't bring myself to comment on it," Ty groaned. "Now stop it and go to sleep, you bad, bad woman."
"You want to go to sleep? Are you sure? Doesn't feel like that to me," Dill snickered.
"Dylan, stop it!" he squeaked as she squeezed him suddenly. "I'm serious, Dill, please. I want to know what you're going to do with Isabella tomorrow when we go fishing for the day."
"Oh, I thought a little shopping with Izzy. The boys can go with you." Dill saw the look on his face. "Okay, the boys can go play with a friend, or go to mother for the afternoon. Then I thought maybe we could cook whatever lovely fishes you bring us. Bella is keen to learn how to cook trout, so please, a few trout would be nice if you can manage it."
"We'll do our best," Ty smiled. "Watching the pair of you over dinner this evening was fascinating. You don't sign, but you both knew what you were talking about."
"That's girls for you," she chuckled. "When the talk turns to the length of your rod, and it turns out to be a fishing rod, well, we just tune you out."
"Well, if you don't know the length of my rod by now, you never will," he smirked.
"I'm ignoring that rude comment," Dill grinned. "I think Hamish is in love. Did you see the way he sat next to Bella all afternoon, and showed her his action man?"
"I did indeed. Would that have worked with you, Dill, if I'd asked you to come look at my action man? Would you have been impressed?" Ty chortled.
"Oh, is that what you call it now?" she giggled, squeezing him again. "Feels like your rod's pretty big. Wanna go fishing?"
"Oh, yes," her husband whispered, pulling her down under the covers with him.
They were busily engaged, and giggling away, as a voice spoke. "Daddy?"
McQueen's head popped up from under the duvet, his face flushed. "Hamish?"
"Can I get in bed with you and mummy?"
McQueen looked down at Dill underneath him. "What the hell do I say?" he whispered.
She sighed. "Tell him to go get back in his own bed and you'll come tuck him in in a minute."
Ty bent his head and kissed her. "See, that's why I married you. You know how to deal with kids." He looked up at Hamish. "Go back to bed, little guy. I'll come tuck you up in a minute."
"Cameron's in my bed," he whispered, coming up to the bed.
"Then get in Cameron's bed, sweetie," Dill told him. "Mummy and daddy are a bit busy at the moment."
"Cameron's bed is wet," Hamish said. "He wee'd in it."
"Then get back into your bed with Cameron," McQueen told him, groaning as he could feel Dill shifting under him.
"My beds wet. Cameron's wee'd in it," the little boy told him.
"This is not fair," Ty whispered to Dill as she pushed him off her.
"No, my lover, but that's kids for you. Best contraceptive in the world!" She threw back the covers. "In you get, sweetie. No weeing in this bed or I'll get cross, okay?"
"Yes, mummy," Hamish smiled, settling himself between his parents.
"Oh God, Dill," McQueen groaned.
"Wait for him to go to sleep, and we'll nip into the living room," she whispered.
"Oh, the intelligence of the woman!" McQueen chuckled.
"Don't push it, flyboy!" Dill giggled.
"No ma'am," Ty said solemnly.
Half an hour later found them wrapping themselves in spare sheets and running into the living room. Which was where Valentine found them next morning, curled around each other on the floor in front of the now cold log fire.
Dill was in the kitchen making breakfast for Bella, Valentine and the boys when Ty arrived, Izzy running in front of him.
"Hello, girlie," Valentine smiled at her. "Where've you been, little one?"
"Spooge, daddy," Izzy told him, pointing at Ty. "Toast?"
"Oh, yes. Toast for my spoogey girl," Ty grinned, lifting her into her highchair. "Anything else, Dill?" he asked warily, sniffing.
"Oh, don't panic," she chuckled. "He gets this fear in his eyes at the thought I'll make him eat porridge," she smiled at Bella.
"Porridge?" Valentine asked as Bella prodded him, signing furiously.
"Ty calls it oatmeal, I believe, but we Scots like it rougher," Dill smiled.
"Yeah, and the boys call it baby sick," Ty grinned, sitting down.
"Just sit your sexy self down and eat these eggs," Dill told him. "Bacon?"
"Yes, please. I don't suppose you did sausage too, did you?" he asked hopefully. "I'm starved."
"Tomatoes? Mushrooms?" she smiled, as she put a full plate down in front of him.
"Dill, you're a mind reader!" Ty sighed contentedly. "See what I mean about she's determined to feed me up?"
"And yet you clear your plate every time, mister, so don't you blame me if you can't do your usual run," Dill smiled, kissing the top of his head as he tucked in hungrily.
Cameron giggled. "Kissing," he whispered.
"You want a kiss too?" Dill teased him.
"Ugh no, mummy!" he cried, putting up his arm to fend her off.
"No kisses from mummy?" she chuckled. "Oh well, I'll just have to give your kisses to daddy and Hamish and Izzy."
"Get down, please, mummy?" Hamish asked.
"Yes, darling, you can get down. You'll need a bath though. And so will you, Cameron," Dill told them both.
"Yes, mummy," Cameron sighed. "Can I get down too, please?"
"Yes. Off you go and play for a while."
Both boys headed off to play with the train set.
"So," Valentine asked, "do you two often sleep in the living room?"
"Er, no," Ty grinned sheepishly. "We had Hamish in bed with us. His timing was... not good."
"Well, I guess that's what you have to put up with when you have children," Valentine chuckled.
"Amongst other things," Dill laughed. "Don't get me wrong. Our children are lovely kids most of the time, but they do have their moments."
"Oh yes," Ty sighed, pushing his empty plate away contentedly. "Speaking of which," he looked up at Dill, "I need to go feed the nanamals. Shall I take the boys?"
"Yes, my love. Do it before their bath. That way they can just hop right in afterwards. Make sure you get them to help you with cleaning the shed out. They need to understand that if you have animals you need to look after them," she told him as she sat down to eat her own breakfast.
"Animals? You guy have animals?" Valentine grinned.
"Yes, we have animals. Daddy just can't say no," Dill frowned at Ty.
McQueen shifted uncomfortably. "We differed in our opinions as to whether the kids could have pets."
"Oh dear," Valentine laughed. "Can I come with you when you go to feed them?"
"If you can wield a broom, you're welcome," Ty grinned.
"Oh, I think I can manage a broom!"
"Excellent, because I hate sweeping up!" Ty laughed. "Okay, you ready to go then?"
"But I'm not dressed!"
"Neither am I. There's no one around to see us, and I'm damned sure Humphrey won't care!"
"But you have on sweatpants - I'm in my pyjamas!"
"Be grateful I'm not in mine!" McQueen grinned, standing up. "That'd scare the animals half to death. Sure scared me when I saw 'em."
"Oh, give over about the bloody pyjamas, Ty," Dill chuckled. "Go and see to those poor animals. Let them out of their shed." She stroked his behind as he walked past her. "Hurry up though - Malcolm will be here in just over an hour."
"Our fishing trip?" Valentine's eyes opened wide. "I can't wait!"
"I believe Malcolm is taking you to a couple of places, but you'd better get a move on if you're going to be ready when he gets here," Dill told them.
McQueen called the boys, and finding some boots for Valentine while Dill got the children, including Izzy, ready, they finally set off laughing and joking to the paddock, leaving Bella and Dill to plan their shopping trip.
Ty and Valentine were having the time of their lives, standing waist deep in the cold waters of the loch, teasing each other about who would be catching the most fish and whose technique was best.
There had been a dangerous moment when Malcolm had arrived to collect them and Valentine had done a double take, causing both Malcolm and Ty to busy themselves with packing the back of Malcolm's Land Rover.
McQueen had also had to apologise to Malcolm for his outburst and accusations of a few days ago. They'd agreed to try and start afresh, no hard feelings. Ty had been mortified, however, when Malcolm had asked him, as he was driving along, if he was okay now after the incident in the woodshed, saying that Cameron's fit had frightened the life out of him. Valentine's eyebrows had gone sky-high, especially as Malcolm, oblivious to the glare McQueen was giving him, had gone into details.
However once they'd arrived at their chosen spot and Malcolm had got them kitted out in waist high waders and into the water for their first lesson in fly fishing, all worries had gone from McQueen's mind as he'd become engrossed in learning this new skill.
Malcolm watched them from the loch side. He only ventured into the water to correct their stance or adjust the way they flicked the rod. Otherwise he gave them encouragement only, laughing at the way they teased each other. With it fast approaching lunchtime, the ghillie busied himself in setting up a table and spreading out lunch for the other men.
"Lord, I'm starved!" Valentine announced. "Good job we're not relying on you to provide us with lunch, McQueen. We'd starve to death! Have you actually caught anything yet?"
"You can talk," McQueen retorted. "What did you get? Salmon so small Malcolm had to throw them back!"
"Call yourself a marine? I thought they always got their man. Or fish in this case," Valentine taunted.
"That's the Mounties, you fool!" McQueen laughed.
"With the noise that you've both been making you'll not be getting any fish," Malcolm called from the bank. "You'll have frightened them all away."
"See? That big mouth of yours is why I've caught no fish!" McQueen grinned at Valentine. "Now shut up and give me some peace. Dill wants some trout for dinner tonight."
"Trout is it she's wanting?" Malcolm smiled. "And why did you not tell me that before? We'll have to go elsewhere for trout. Lunch is ready, and afterwards we'll visit a trout spot to see what you can catch. Perhaps I'll teach you how to tickle them."
Wading over to the bank, both men shed their waders and sat down on the grass to eat.
"T.C.?" Valentine ventured.
"Yeah?" Ty mumbled around a mouthful of crusty bread.
"Your little chap Cameron. What did Malcolm here mean about him knowing you needed help? Feel free to tell me to mind my own business."
McQueen stared at him warily. "Mind your own business."
Valentine looked away, then back at him. "This morning, while we were having breakfast, Cameron said you were very happy today, and that Dylan needed to cook you a big breakfast because you were, I believe his words were, 'hungry as anything'. Then in you came asking for sausages."
"He knows I like a big breakfast," McQueen shrugged.
"While the children had their dinner last night he told Hamish that you were sorry for telling him off, but that you loved him very much. He also told Dylan that you were cross with her."
"Look, he just says stuff. You must have noticed that. If you let him, he'll talk your ears off." McQueen looked around for more food. "What's this?" he asked Malcolm, picking up a small pie.
"Game pie."
"Oh, right," Ty said, none the wiser, but taking a bite anyway. "It's good."
Valentine watched him carefully, aware that he was deliberately trying not to answer his questions. This time he addressed Malcolm. "So what did Cameron do that frightened you so much?"
Malcolm eyed McQueen, who shrugged resignedly. "You don't give up, do you Val?"
"Hey, what can I say? Malcolm said what he said, and I'm incredibly nosy," Valentine grinned.
"We were on the loch, in a boat, the wee laddies and me. Young Cameron went deathly white and started shaking. He looked terrified and started crying, all the while whispering 'my daddy'. I did notice, however, that wee Hamish ignored him at first, as though he'd seen it before." Malcolm stopped as McQueen opened his mouth to speak, but Valentine got in first.
"So you think this has happened before?"
"Well, when I stopped at Mrs. Mackenzie's, she was far more worried about the Colonel here than she was the wee laddie. She told me that Cameron would be fine; that it was the colonel she was worried about." Malcolm eyed McQueen speculatively. "And indeed she was right. It seemed to me that she'd seen the laddie do it before."
"And had she?" Valentine asked McQueen.
"Drop it Val," he growled.
"She had, hadn't she? The very fact that you won't say means it's true!" Valentines eyes sparkled with delight. "What about Hamish? Can he do it too?"
"Val," McQueen warned him, glaring angrily at him now.
"Is it just you, or can he tell how anyone else is feeling?" Valentine asked gaily. "How long has he been able to do it? Can he tell how you feel even when you're away from home? How far does this sensitivity reach?"
"Val! That's enough! What the hell is it with you? I told you to drop it!" McQueen yelled, his mind racing. Valentine was pumping him for information. Why? He thought back to when they'd first met. Valentine had pushed to find out about his children. Ty's heart almost stopped when he recalled that over dinner the evening before Val had got Dill taking about Hamish - how much bigger and stronger he was than Cameron... how people often didn't realise they were twins. Taking a deep breath, Ty sat and stared at the man in front of him. With his brown hair falling over one eye, and his brown eyes twinkling, McQueen thought he looked a lot like West. Except West was far more earnest. How much did he really know about this man? Nothing, he realised. Fear grew in his heart.
"Why, Val? Why do you want to know so much about my boys? They're just kids. Normal, everyday kids."
"Except Cameron appears to have empathic abilities. I wouldn't say that's normal, would you?"
"Who do you work for? Aerotech?" McQueen asked, speaking his fear aloud.
Valentine stared at him, assessing his answer. "You have major issues with Aerotech, don't you?"
"I'm a tank. What do you think?"
"What if I told you I do work for them? Would you believe me if I said I'm on your side?" Valentine asked softly.
"I invited you into my home, and you work for Aerotech?" McQueen was horrified. Despite his suspicions, he hadn't wanted it to be true. He turned to Malcolm. "Pack up. We're leaving!"
Malcolm jumped, his eyes wide at the sudden change of demeanour. He could see why this man was a colonel. He positively oozed his command through every pore.
"When we get home I want you gone!" McQueen yelled at Valentine. "If you or any of your geeks ever come to my home... ever try to get near to my boys, I swear I'll hunt you down."
Valentine, still sitting on the grass, stared at him, a smile on his face. "I believe you would, wouldn't you? Well, who would have believed it? You know, they tell us lab geeks that 'tanks don't feel'. That we're not creating humans who can understand concepts like love, commitment or loyalty. We're just making more stupid tanks. But they're wrong. I knew that the moment I set eyes on you. Watching you with Dylan, you know what love is. How to give it and receive it. You know about commitment. You understand about loyalty. And I'm sure you'd kill to protect your family."
"Yes, I would. Now get up before I drag you up! We're leaving, and you'll be out of my home before you do any more damage!"
"That's interesting," Valentine smiled. "Your 'home'. That's twice now."
"Of course it's my home. What else should it be?" McQueen growled. Valentine's unperturbed attitude was beginning to worry him. "What have you done?" he whispered, thoughts of kidnappings running through his head.
"What?" Valentine asked, confusion on his face. "What should I have done?"
McQueen stepped up close to him, nose to nose. "If anything has happened to any member of my family... if Aerotech have got their greedy hands on my children... you won't see tomorrow morning. "
Valentine blanched. "You… you think I've arranged for them to snatch your children?" He was horrified. "What kind of a man do you think I am?"
"I think you're an Aerotech geek, sent to wheedle his way into my home so Aerotech could get their hands on Hamish!"
"On Hamish?" Valentine muttered to himself. He looked McQueen square in the eye. "You're right. I do work for Aerotech. I'm a geneticist. I'm the geek who splices and dices whatever I'm given to create the perfect tank. You know what, McQueen? I know things about you that you'd rather not know."
"You dirty, stinking, low life scum!" McQueen swung for him. Valentine ducked and Malcolm grabbed the marine's arm.
"You'll not be wanting to do that," Malcolm said quietly.
"I damn well do!" McQueen said, shaking himself free. "Do you have any idea what those bastards will do if they get their hands on my boys? Lab rats - that's what they'll be. If they don't dissect 'em first to see how they tick!" He turned to Valentine, who'd ducked behind Malcolm. "You are not getting my kids! Do you hear me?" he yelled.
"I don't want your kids," Valentine told him, staying behind Malcolm, "but I know a man who does. Who's very interested that the tank T.C. McQueen actually has children, because you were supposed to have been rendered sterile."
McQueen was puce with rage, desperately struggling with Malcolm to get at Valentine. Malcolm was managing, despite Ty's strength, to hold him off. All McQueen could think was that his children were in danger. All logic - all rational reasoning - had long since flown. "Keep away from Hamish! Keep away from all of my children!" he spat at Valentine.
"I don't want your children, McQueen! Are you not hearing me? What happened to your invitro hearing? Are you suddenly deaf?" Valentine yelled back. "I can help you. It's obvious you think there's something odd about your boys, and I can help you. After we met on that cruise, I did some digging. I know what it is. I know what Aerotech were up to when they created your batch, all those years ago. You weren't bred to be a miner. You were supposed to be a breeder!"
McQueen tore himself away from Malcolm and leapt at Valentine, determined to wipe the smug grin off his face. Valentine, however, had other ideas. He jumped backwards and allowed Malcolm to once again get between the two of them. Malcolm shoved at McQueen, pushing him away. McQueen grabbed for Valentine, who shoved both men away from him, causing McQueen to lose his balance and pull Malcolm into the loch with him.
Valentine stood on the grass and laughed at the expression, so alike, on both men's faces. "Are you sure you two aren't related?" he chuckled. Val crouched down and stared at McQueen as he spluttered in the water. "Will you listen to me, please? I've seen that both you and Dylan are fiercely protective of both your boys, and I see why. You fear for them. You're afraid Aerotech - some geek like me - interfered with your genes, and that's affecting your children."
"Don't presume to tell me what I think or feel!" McQueen snarled, hauling himself out of the loch, pulling Malcolm out with him.
"Before you beat me to a pulp, please just listen. I understand your reluctance. I swear Aerotech didn't send me to spy on you or your family. Please T.C., please. I can help you understand why Cameron's the way he is."
"Nothing you have to say is of any interest to me. Don't bother trying to find us. I'm taking my family away from here. Someplace where Aerotech will never get their hands on Hamish."
Ty began walking away in the general direction of home, his thoughts only on getting his family away from Aerotech.
"Listen to the man, McQueen," Malcolm called. "Let him speak his piece."
"Why? So he can give his puppeteers at Aerotech more time to get to us?" McQueen shook his head. "I'm sorry, Malcolm, my family is far too important to me to allow that."
"Didn't you hear me, T.C.? I know what Aerotech did to you!" Valentine called after him. "It's not Hamish you need to worry about. It's little Cameron!"
McQueen stopped. Whatever Valentine might have thought, he'd heard everything he'd said, and his mind was buzzing. He was born to be a breeder? Cameron? It was Cameron Aerotech wanted, not Hamish? His mind whirled. His anger was dissipating as part of his brain began thinking about places of safety for Dill and the children. The rest of it fixated on the fact that Valentine had answers. Maybe.
He turned around, and before Malcolm could stop him, he'd grabbed Valentine and flung him to the ground. "Tell me," he ordered him. "Tell me what they did to me."
"Stop it!" Malcolm said placidly, holding Ty back from the kick he was aiming at Val. "If you want him to tell you, then I suggest you sit down like the civilised men you claim to be. I'll pour you out a drink, and then I'll go sit over there, where I won't hear you and you can talk privately, but I can see that you don't hit each other."
McQueen glared at the Scotsman. A glare that would have had any of the 58th shuffling uncomfortably, but merely left Malcolm smiling ruefully. "My grandfather did better than that, Colonel. Now sit and let the man speak."
Ty sat himself on the grass, shifting uncomfortably in his wet clothes. "Hurry up," he grouched at Valentine. "I'm cold."
"Here, drink this." Malcolm handed him a glass of whiskey. "It'll keep the chill out."
Nodding his thanks, McQueen sipped at it, closing his eyes in pleasure as the warmth spread through him. "Tell me," he said calmly to Valentine, opening his eyes to stare straight at him.
"After we met, I did some digging. You were so proud of your children, and rightly so. They're lovely kids, by the way." Valentine watched him warily. "So I checked records. Found your batch number, inception date and genetic coding." He took a deep breath. "You were part of a series of code yellow batches."
"What's that supposed to mean?" McQueen interrupted him.
"It meant that specific gene splicing was done on those batches. Changes in the genetic make up were made," Valentine told him.
"I knew it," McQueen said wearily. "What were they trying to do, get us to breed super soldiers? You said I was supposed to be a breeder?"
"The idea was that they would make genetic enhancements in several areas. Code yellow seems to have been telepathy. None of the first batch showed any signs, so someone suggested it might be a latent gene that would show in any children. So the next batches were then enhanced with 'breeding' in mind." Valentine's eyes twinkled. "So that's what they did. They decanted them, and started them breeding."
"Like animals," Ty whispered, horrified.
"Oh, it gets worse. Far worse," Valentine told him sadly. "The babies that actually survived to term - most were lost before birth - suffered from a range of genetic defects. You see, they'd had to interfere so much they'd messed up other vital genetic information without realising it. The birth defects were awful. None of the children survived more than a week or two after birth."
"But I was sent straight to the mines. Decanted and sent on my way the same day," McQueen told him.
"It was decided that the experiment was an expensive failure, so the last two batches were sent to places where Aerotech hoped they'd die. Or if they survived, they'd be sterile. No one would ever know." Valentine looked Ty square in the eye. "You are the only invitro from those last two batches to have children. And if Aerotech already knew about Cameron, you'd never see him again. They know you have children T.C., and to be honest, they're flummoxed. They don't understand how after five years on a uranium mining facility you were still fertile. Why do you think they've made such a stink about your leg? They want to get you in the 'care' of their doctors and under a general anaesthetic so they can have a look. But being mister nosy, as I am, I researched this whole uranium thing. And as you no doubt know, it wouldn't have made any of you infertile. Someone at Aerotech made a mistake and once you were there, it was too late to do anything about it without drawing attention to the matter."
McQueen paled. "Thank God for Mister Ashbourne and his lawyers," he muttered.
"More than you know," Valentine said gravely. "Ashbourne has had dealings with Aerotech before. He knows exactly where to hit them to make them hurt."
"Why are you telling me this?" McQueen eyed him suspiciously.
"Because I thought we were friends. Friends look out for each other, T.C. I'm sorry that you feel we can't be friends because of who I work for. It's a shame you feel that way, because I really enjoyed being your friend."
McQueen sipped at his drink. Getting up to pour himself a refill, he turned and offered the bottle to Valentine. "So what about Hamish? He's a full head taller than the little guy. He's strong, has enhanced hearing, and an amazing sense of smell. What's he supposed to be?"
"As far as I can tell, that's just normal genetics for you. Does he exhibit any signs of telepathic ability?" Valentine said, as he held out his glass to be refilled.
McQueen shook his head. "No, not like Cameron does. In fact, I'd say none at all."
"Well, he does have half your genes. And those invitro genes are dominant, so that would account for the strength and stuff. Perhaps he's picked up his height from Dylan's family," Valentine said with a shrug. "If you wanted, I could run a full DNA analysis on them both, which would tell you what you want to know."
McQueen shot him a look. "No. I don't want Aerotech getting their hands on anything to do with my children."
"I agree. I think it's possible that only Cameron got that particular gene activated. I wonder why?" Valentine pondered, as he took a few sips of his whiskey.
"What do you know about the earlier tanks? I researched and discovered that they were stronger... bigger, but had less chance of surviving their decanting because of the genetic interfering."
"How much earlier?" Valentine asked.
"I was decanted in forty-three, so..." Ty thought about it for a minute. "The thirties?"
"You think I know everything?" Valentine laughed.
"It was a simple question," McQueen said tersely.
"Why do you want to know?" Val saw the glare McQueen gave him. "Okay, okay. I surrender!" he laughed. "I don't now much. I think that was when they were trying to produce the super soldier, for the IV Platoons, so I guess a fair amount of enhancements were done. And of course, as they learned, too much interfering causes big problems, so not many would have survived long after decanting."
"Those that did?" McQueen prompted.
"I don't know. Bigger... stronger than your average tank. More amenable, I guess. But I don't know. I mean, come on - I was a kid back then!" Valentine looked at McQueen, assessing him. "Why do you want to know?"
"Dill's father is an invitro. The children have more than just my tank genes. They have some of his, too," Ty smiled. "You should see him. He's six feet seven, if he's an inch!"
"An invitro? No wonder Hamish is tall then," Valentine laughed. "But Dylan is tiny. I mean, she only reaches up to your chin!"
"She's strong though. Almost as strong as I am," McQueen smiled. "With a right hook you really want to avoid."
"Judging by the state of your face, which I'd like to point out both Bella and I have refrained from commenting on," Val grinned wickedly, "I'd say you speak from experience. Bella is worried though. She said it seemed unlikely you'd be a battered husband, but you can never tell. Especially knowing the invitro training to be submissive." He paused. "I believe she was going to tackle Dylan about it today while they shopped."
McQueen paled. "Oh hell," he sighed.
"What? You're not telling me that, you are? Are you?" Valentine asked, shocked.
"No, I'm not. But Dill's convinced otherwise." He looked up at Valentine. "This was an accident. We were arguing, and she pushed me. I grabbed her and we fell. Her head hit me in the face and my nose broke. It looks worse than it is. You should have seen me a few days ago."
"An accident? Isn't that what you'd say if you were covering for her?" Valentine said seriously, his eyes searching McQueen's face as if he could read the truth there.
"I'm not covering for her. Dill has a temper and I can wind her up real good. Twice she's lost it and hit me. No more than a punch to the jaw." Ty looked at Valentine. "Twice, Val, in six years. But she seems to think that's regular beatings. So if Bella says anything to her, she'll lose it. She'll tell your wife how abusive and dominating she is, that she beats me all the time. She'll convince her that she abuses me. She doesn't, Val. Truly she doesn't."
"Why did she hit you?" Valentine asked quietly.
McQueen sat and stared at him for a long moment. Despite the fact that he worked for the enemy, he really liked Val. He wanted to believe that he really was a friend. Taking a deep breath, he decided to risk it. He sighed. "You really want to know?"
Valentine nodded.
"It was my fault both times," McQueen told him. "And I'm not just saying that. It was before the boys were born, when I didn't really understand how to deal with the way I felt about her. I was convinced that one day she'd wake up and be horrified that she was involved with a tank. The first time it happened, we'd spent a week together at a friend's beach house, just me and Dill." He smiled at the memory. "We had a great time. We'd only known each other about a year, maybe eighteen months, and it was only my second leave since we'd met. We went out to dinner and we got attacked. Because I'm a tank, of course. I realised I hadn't been able to help her. She could have been raped. They were planning to." He stopped and sipped his drink. "So I told her it was over. I couldn't be responsible for her getting hurt, and I left."
Valentine simply sat and stared at him, causing McQueen to flush with embarrassment.
"It was cowardly, I know. But Dill, being Dill, she came after me. I told her to go away and leave me alone. That I'd made my decision and that was that. But this was Dill. She punched me on the jaw just to get me to pay attention to her, I think, and she told me how it was. By the time she'd finished, I knew I couldn't lose her." Ty smiled shyly at Valentine. "I ended up asking her to marry me."
"And the second time?" Valentine prompted. "I'm still deciding whether that sounds like a cover story," he grinned.
"The second time was eight months later. She turned up on the 'Toga, hugely pregnant. She must have got pregnant while we were together."
"That's how it usually happens," Valentine laughed.
"Smart arse," Ty smiled. "Well, the second time, she hadn't told me she was pregnant. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I thought they were someone else's... that she'd come to say goodbye and wave what I could never have under my nose."
"What you could never have?"
"I'd been told that due to," he hesitated, "a war wound, I'd never father children. I was upset. Dill was upset. We rowed. She hit me. Just once, but afterwards she swore she'd never hit me again, and she hasn't. So no, I'm definitely not a battered husband. Dill feels incredibly guilty about it still, though, so this," he indicated his face, "really doesn't help."
"She still feels guilty about it? After what, three years?"
"There are other things involved too. More to do with me than her." Ty glanced at Valentine. "Things that you don't need to know about."
"Damn!" he laughed. "You know I love a good bit of gossip!"
Malcolm appeared by the side of the table. "If you two gentleman are finished, are you wanting to go to the trout spot or not? Perhaps we should return for dry clothing first?"
Valentine looked at Ty. "Your call, McQueen. Are you throwing me out or not?"
McQueen stared at him. He liked Valentine, damn him. He wasn't sure if he trusted him yet, that still had to be proved, but…. "Oh hell," he finally said. "I'm okay if you are. Malcolm, let's get Dill some trout for dinner."
"Yes, sir," the ghillie smiled, starting to pack away the lunch things.
"You catch a trout? Who are you fooling, McQueen? You couldn't catch a cold!" Valentine chuckled, as they picked up their waders and fishing rods.
"Well, maybe we've been using the wrong bait," Ty smiled wryly. "I'll try feeding them that tongue of yours - it never stops wagging!"
"Well, you may have some luck with that," Malcolm smiled. "The trout do like a bit of meat."
"See?" McQueen laughed, clapping Valentine on the back.
"Oh, now I'm scared!" Valentine grinned wickedly.
"So you should be! Don't you know you've been in the loch with the monster that eats people?"
"What?"
"Come on. I'll tell you while Malcolm drives us to the next fishing hole."
Together they headed to the Land Rover. Malcolm following them, watching. He'd not listened to what had been said, but this strange camaraderie seemed wrong. He looked at McQueen, who was definitely not looking as relaxed as when they'd left the house this morning. If anything, he seemed more uptight... more tightly controlled, as if the smiling exterior was merely a front. He shook his head as he realised that's exactly what it was. Maybe he should persuade them to go back now before the colonel let the façade slip.