"I'm's bored," Toki whined. "I wantses to goes out no-ow."
"Toki, you . . . ah . . . have to wait until the decompression process is finished or you'll . . . uh . . . be hurting again," Charles informed his charge through the glass. "You only have fifteen minutes left."
"But dere ams not'ings to does in here! I'm's bored! I bets Nat'ans boreds toos!"
Charles looked at the front man. At his request, the staff at the treatment center had supplied him with paper and a pen. Nathan had been writing ever since. Occasionally he'd read back over his work and mutter 'Fuck yeah' and head bang a few times. If nothing else, this trip would be good for a few songs. No doubt they'd center around fish murder and invisible mermaids, but . . . well, there might be a Dethwater II in the works.
Charles pulled out his Dethphone and dialed his assistant.
"Have Legal pull out the briefs from the Dethwater trial and brush up," he ordered as soon as Conway picked up. "Also, a word about your 'friend' that was supposed to be watching –"
"Just to let you know, sir, she is plenty pissed," Matthias cut in. "I gave the impression she'd be babysitting some accident-prone gentleman, not defending them from . . . harm."
The gentle stress on 'harm' clued Charles in that there were people in earshot on Conway's end of the line.
"Fish people?" the manager muttered into his phone.
"Phorcydes, sir. They aren't native to the area. JB says Dethklok officially has the worst luck in the universe to run into them here."
"Tell me something I don't know. Where are you?"
"We're in a car on the way to the decompression center."
"'We'?" Charles prompted.
"We're gonna go t' Margaritaville after Toki gets outta th' thing!" Pickles yelled. "Tell 'im!"
"Pickles wants to go to Margaritaville after Toki gets released," Matthias reported.
"Tell him Shkiwsgaar'sh gone fucking nutsh!" Murderface bellowed.
"Murderface says Skwisgaar's gone fucking nuts," Conway added.
"I don't think any of the boys can qualify on the mental status of the others," Charles sighed.
"We're pulling up to the door now, sir. We'll see you inside."
"Very good."
Charles hung up and turned back to the porthole. Toki was leaning against the glass with his face smashed into the side and a bratty scowl on his face.
"As soon as you get out, we'll . . . ah . . . go to Margaritaville," Charles told him.
"What ams dat?"
"It's a restaurant," Charles answered. "Pickles and Murderface are coming in right now – I forgot to ask if Skwisgaar was with them."
"Charles!"
The manager turned towards the shout. An adorable vision in a green sundress was running across the room towards him. Charles had a suddenly flashback to his nine month sabbatical.
He had gone on a trip down to Carmel with the triplets. Feeling unexpectedly emotional, Charles had bared his soul. He admitted his feelings for the trio and told the sisters that there was no way he could choose between them. Faith had dragged the others further down the beach for a huddle. Charles was sure all chances were officially shot, but Hope had come running towards him with a big grin. At the time, he had thought it fortunate that at least one of the sisters had a thing for scarred up robots. She practically knocked him over in a hug and they had their first kiss on that cold, rocky beach.
With a memory like that, Charles could do little but hold out his arms and greet Hope with a deep, impassioned kiss. When he surfaced a few minutes later, the first thing he noticed was Toki staring at him intently from the porthole. For some reason, Charles blushed hotly.
"Awwwww, dat's so cute!" Pickles declared from the door.
Pickles, Murderface, and Conway stood in the doorway as Mercy and Faith followed their sister at a more sedate pace.
"You need t' dock Mr. Humphries' pay or sumthing, 'cause he was gonna leave 'em at the hotel. I told him you'd wanna see your chicks as soon as possible!" the drummer declared.
Conway gave a helpless shrug.
"Hope, you always Bogart the first kiss!" Mercy declared, hugging Charles around her sister.
"That's because I'm willing to run for it," Hope informed her.
"Ah . . . er . . . thank you, Pickles," Charles muttered.
Faith slid up to Charles' free side and snaked her arms around his waist. Without thinking about it, the manager slid into 'triple hug' mode: An arm around a woman on each side and both hands resting on the back of the woman in the middle.
Charles was happy to see the triplets, but . . . Toki was staring at him. Murderface was staring at him. Nathan was glaring at him. The only one who looked happy with the quad was Pickles.
Mercy tugged on Charles' shirt.
"Kiss, please," she requested, stretching up on her tiptoes.
Charles stared down at his lover, cast a long look around at the boys, then turned Mercy so that he was between her and the boys. Then he leaned down and gave her a quick kiss.
"Aww, look; he's all shy now," Pickles observed.
The manager straightened with cheeks nearly as red as Mercy's dress. This was not how he envisioned introducing his lovers to Dethklok. In his mind it was a tightly controlled affair scheduled sometime after the heat death of the universe.
"Oh, what's was dat?"
Charles looked over at the porthole, where Toki was giving him a disapproving look. This was a disaster; he should have known better than to bring the girls around Dethklok! They had a very simple grasp of the world; new information had to be broken down to tiny little pieces to make sure it would fit in their heads! They –
"What ams she; yous mother? Giveses her a reals kiss," the rhythm guitarist ordered.
"Ah . . . Toki—" Charles began.
"Dat one gotted a real kiss," Toki said, pointing to Hope. "I sawed tongue."
"Jesus, Toki!" Nathan snorted.
"Yeah, c'mon, give her a real kiss!" Pickles cried, getting into the spirit. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Toki took up the chant, as did Nathan, who was enjoying watching Charles squirm. Murderface started yelling 'Fight! Fight!' but odds were he just got a little confused. Still red, Charles gathered Mercy in his arms and gave her a proper kiss. The band showed approval with a few whistles and hoots.
"Satisfied, boys?" Charles asked, coming up for air.
"Now hers," Toki ordered, pointing to Faith.
Charles ducked his head.
"Has anyone seen Skwisgaar?"
"I bringses you beaut-see-fuls jewels ands loveseslies flowers ands tastys chocolates," Skwisgaar murmured, draping silver necklaces around JB's throat. "I giveses yous tributes. I askses your blessings."
Johnny Betty was practically drunk on the heady feeling of being worshipped. This was better than her first experience with magic. This was better than tapping into the boundless power of water. The jewelry Skwisgaar continued to place on her arms, neck and wrists filled her power.
"Why . . . why are you asking me?" she asked.
She wasn't anybody special. Well, she was an immortal, but as immortals went, she was the new kid on the block. She hadn't done anything to warrant being worshipped, had she? Well, she had saved Toki . . . . kind of. But it was a little quick for Skwisgaar to have found out, bought tribute and brought it to her. How would he have known she would be here, anyway?
Skwisgaar took a long look at the exotic beauty soaking up his sacrifices.
"Why woulds I nots asks yous?" He murmured. "I loves ladies and I wants to loves ladies forevers. If I gets to bes an old mans I mights has troubles, so I asks for your blessings, Ixchel."
The lead guitarist kissed the back of her hand.
JB blinked. Ixchel?
"Oh, I'm not –"
Why exactly couldn't she be Ixchel? Ixchel was dead! She had passed on and left behind her temple ruins, her island, her reefs, her cenote . . . JB could step right into her shoes! Ixchel had been a goddess of water; JB was a water elemental. That wasn't much, but it was a starting point! JB had the breasts to pull off a fertility goddess; no problem! The phorcydes and Dethklok thought she was mistress of Cozumel already, so what the hell? There wasn't much in the way of worship, but if she got the occasional Skwisgaar, it would be enough to eek out a living!
" – as powerful as I once was," JB finished, dropping her gaze. "My temple is in ruins and you are the first to bring sacrifices in . . . longer than I can remember."
Skwisgaar settled on the ledge next to her and kissed the back of her hand again.
"I knows you still hases de power," he murmured. "I knows a blessings from yous woulds goes longers than anyt'ing else I coulds do."
Before JB could answer, Skwisgaar began to trail kisses up her arm, murmuring softly to her in Swedish. Oh man . . . those kisses . . . on top of the power tingle from the jewelry . . . that was . . . was Skwisgaar post-human, too? Because Johnny Betty had sex before; not a lot, but she had some experience and holy shit!
"Justs touches me wit' your powers," Skwisgaar breathed. "Dat's ams alls I asks."
JB turned towards him to say she'd do her best but somehow they ended up kissing. The faux goddess wasn't sure exactly how that happened. One minute the beautiful Swede was trailing pecks up her arm like a cheesy old cartoon, the next they were locked together at the mouth, their tongues wrestling and mating.
Holy crap, what a kisser!
JB had heard stories about Skwisgaar before of course and she thought the countless women he slept with were stupid to chase after him, but now she understood! Wow! She had sex that wasn't as good as this kiss! It would just . . . it would be a really good idea to just lay back and spread her legs. Imagine the pleasure he could bring her then!
Maybe he'd . . . w-wait . . . there was a reason JB hadn't had a lot of sexual experience. What was it again? Johnny Betty realized with a start that her higher thoughts had shut down somewhere along the line. Skwisgaar had moved his mouth to her throat and one hand was cupping and massaging her breast.
Wait . . . no, there was a fucking good reason JB couldn't have sex with baseline humans! She had once and she was never cleaning blood out of those places again!
Skwisgaar yelped in pain as Johnny Betty fisted a hand in his hair and pulled him away from her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I truly am. I'll give you my blessing, Skwisgaar Skwigelf. But that's all you can have."
"Buts-"
"Nathan Explosion already wounded me today. That's all of Dethklok I care to cross."
JB's expression softened and she relaxed her grip to place a chaste kiss on Skwisgaar's lips.
"Maybe one day. But not today, Skwisgaar."
Before the guitarist could protest further, his goddess dissolved into seawater. She splashed down the inside of the cenote, her new jewelry rattling and ringing as it bounced down the stone wall.
"What exactly happened?" Charles asked.
"Exactly what Nathan said," Matthias reported. "Some phorcydes grabbed Toki and were planning on eating him, but my friend intervened. Nathan stabbed her in the tail with a spear gun, so she's feeling a little ripped off in this venture."
"Understandable," Charles sighed. "Were the girls mad that I didn't pick them up at the airport?"
"Actually, no. They were very understanding. They're . . . they're pretty special ladies. You should hang on to them."
Charles gave his assistant a look.
"What? I appreciate a good love story!"
"Then why, exactly did you bring them to the decompression center?"
"I didn't. Pickles saw them in the lobby and recognized them from the picture you showed him. He insisted on bringing them along. Anyway, it's not so bad. They seem to be getting along pretty well."
"I distinctly recall not asking you, Conway," Charles stated. "Oh, here's Skwisgaar."
Skwisgaar stalked up to the restaurant entrance, his face tight and drawn.
"Hello, Skwisgaar," Charles offered. "We've . . . ah . . . saved you a seat. I . . . uh . . . I believe Toki ordered you . . . . uh . . . something to drink."
Skwisgaar continued past his manager and into the restaurant. He paused to look around. Dethklok's table was easy to find. The band had claimed a table on the jetty over the water and forced the waitstaff to clear the rest of the tables off of the jetty.
Skwisgaar stalked up to Nathan and glowered down at his lead singer.
"Nat'ans, cans yous stands up for a seconds, please?"
Nathan blinked up at the lanky Swede for a second.
"Uh . . . sure."
Nathan stood up in time to receive a punch in the nose.
"Alls yous fucking faults! I coulds has has sexs wit' an actual goddess! Ans actual goddess! Buts yous hads to goes stabs hers ins de leg! She no wantses to fucks wit' Dethklok! Fuckses yous, Nat'an!"
The Swede paused, shaking with fury. Then his expression crumpled and he curled up around the hand he had used to hit Nathan.
"Owwws . . ."
"What the fuck, Skwisgaar?" Nathan inquired.
"I saws her," Skwisgaar wheezed. "Ixchel, de goddess of de island. We mades out, but she's blowed mes off after I gets to seconds base. She saids yous had stabbed her today and she nots wants to fuck wit' Dethklok anymore."
"Oh. Oh. Sorry," Nathan muttered. "Sit down, we're going to eat."
The lead singer helped his fuming friend into a seat.
"You're telling me the goddessh actually showed up?" Murderface said doubtfully.
"She dids! She was beautiful and darks likes de Maya and she comes up outs of de cen-san-cir – de sacreds pool and says she giveses my blessings but dat's what all I gets. And she ams mads at you, Nat'ans."
"I'm scared," Nathan growled, looking at the menu. "What's she goddess of?"
"Sex!" Skwisgaar and Murderface said in the same voice.
Nathan looked up briefly.
"So what?" He muttered. "Who cares about some love goddess—"
"Nots loves. Sex," Skwisgaar stressed. "Mens useds to prays to hers for good mojo, sos dere dick never letted them down whens dey needed its."
Nathan considered this carefully. Charles came back to the table and took his seat next to the triplets. They each had a large glass of a tropical drink in front of them. Faith's drink was blue, Mercy's was red, and Hope's was green.
"Pickles ordered us colored coded drinks," Faith said with a smile. "I think he's taken a shine to us."
"I'm glad he likes you," Charles said with a small smile.
Pickles stood, weaving slightly and banged his knife against his glass. He managed to hit it on the third try.
"I'd like t' propose a toast t' th' happy couple!" he announced, gesturing at Charles and the triplets. "I mean . . . I mean . . . th' happy several. Charlesh is our buddy and we're all glad he's gaht someone . . . . several someones . . . to play with his dick on a regular basis."
Charles pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Hope and Mercy's shoulders shaking with mirth.
"So here's t' . . . . um . . . . you guys . . . . . stick wit' Charles. Even if he can't keep up with ya in bed, he's got lotsa money. Cheers."
There was a belated chorus of 'Cheers', more than a few snickers and everyone drank.
"Whoa!" Nathan bellowed. "I stabbed the Goddess of Boners? Oh . . . oh . . . oh that's not good."