Ben jerked out of a sound sleep and sat up sharply. He ran a hand over his chest, checking to see that, yes, he was in charge of this body. The oaf must have been able to take control because he was sleeping. Foolish, foolish . . . foolish and overconfident! For half a second, he thought he should have waited for Dixie's spell, but then William would be dead. The dead were useless and another suitable vessel wouldn't be along for a very long time.
Dixie . . . .
Ben turned and caressed her bare shoulder gently. The red-haired witch still slept, but turned towards the kiss he laid on her cheek with a small smile.
His beloved titian . . . one lifetime was simply not enough.
A lifetime . . . he didn't have a lifetime with her to begin with: only a little over two years. A slight smile curved his lips when he remembered their meeting. The Yankees were paranoid about spies and saboteurs among Confederate civilians; probably because there were so many. Confederate civilians that didn't make their feelings known to the Northern invaders – even by the mildest means necessary – often simply lacked the opportunity.
In her previous life, Dixie wasn't a saboteur or a spy – she was simply a thief. The Union soldiers had supplies and food and robbing from them was an act of patriotism. Billy Yank had caught her pilfering flour from the supply wagons.
She was no spy and the Union knew it. They still tried to trade her for prisoners of war, which is how the Confederates knew she wasn't a spy. Spies of either side were hanged as a matter of course. The Federals simply found themselves short of Confederate officers and tried to bluff. However obvious the ruse, Brigadier General Benjamin Franklin Cheatham wasn't about to let a lady stay in custody.
Once back in the Confederate camp, she promptly told him every Union plot she had overheard and all of the supply and ammunition caches throughout the city.
It seemed as though in no time she had charmed her way into his tent. At first he simply wrote her attentions off as a woman trying to elevate her position in life, but he came to depend on her more and more as the war wore on. One night the battle had raged until nightfall. Ben, out chasing down fleeing Union cavalry, was forced to camp in the woods with a few lieutenants.
When he returned to camp he had found Dixie – then named Prudence – had spent all night searching the battlefield for him. Her petticoats were so saturated with blood she could hardly walk.
Such devotion was worth waiting for. And he wasn't about to let this William Murderface idiot endanger their reunion. He would have to make sure he was the first one awake from now on, that was all. Simple enough.
Ben kissed Dixie once more, then rolled out of bed and stretched luxuriously. Oh, to have a body again! To feel the carpet under his toes! The sunlight streaming through the window lit up his skin. Even the ache of his sore muscles was welcome.
Ache? Why did his muscles ache? He had done nothing more strenuous than carry Dixie a few hundred yards and then make love to her for several hours. Ben looked down at his borrowed body, noting the flabby stomach and noodle-like arms.
This simply wouldn't do.
The gut he didn't mind so much, but he needed to be strong. Without further ado, Ben dropped to the floor and began to do press ups. His arms were burning by the fifth, screaming by the tenth, and collapsed on him entirely by the fifteenth.
Everything started small; he'd just have to keep up a routine and soon he'd have nothing to be ashamed of. Except for theses rather inane tattooes. Ah well; in these times they were commonplace. He'd learn to live with them.
Ben picked himself up off of the carpet and went into the bathroom for a shower. Oh, endless hot water was a luxury he'd never get tired of. He scrubbed the sweat and dried fluids from his skin, combed his hair and slicked it back with a bottle of lotion the hotel provided. That done, he wrapped himself in a fluffy white towel and stepped out onto the balcony to take in the sun.
Hmmm; there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on in the courtyard. People milled around with cameras, glancing continually at an empty podium set up at one end of the space.
Oh, a press conference.
Ben had spent a lot of time watching TV. There wasn't much else to do when you didn't sleep.
A few of the people in the courtyard pointed up at the balcony. Ben nodded at them. After a moment he went back inside and called for room service. He had never actually used a phone before, but there was a handy guide printed on it. Now that he thought about it, he was sorry he had missed rotary phones. Those looked like fun to operate.
Ben went back out onto the balcony while he waited and watched the antics as the press conference began.
Mercy mounted the dias, giving the assembled reporters a blinding smile.
"Thank you all for coming," she said in a tone that dripped with sugar. "I'm Mercy Noh and I'm here to talk to you about Toki Wartooth."
A few camera flashes went off, but most of the press waited in rapt attention.
"Last night, as Toki was approaching an old friend, Nathan Explosion came under the impression that Toki had a sexual relationship with the gentleman. This is true."
Camera flashes erupted, along with a babble of questions. Mercy made a few 'settle down' motions with her hands. To her surprise, it worked.
"Though he still wishes to find a woman to love and start a family with, Toki does have the occasional fling with a man."
The small crowd fairly roared at this statement.
"Peter Christopherson, CNN," one reporter cried, leaping up. "Are you saying that Toki Wartooth is gay?"
"No," Mercy said calmly. "If he liked men exclusively, then he would be gay. Toki likes man as well as women, which makes him bisexual, not gay."
Another babble of voices. Mercy realized that the reporters in the front row were holding up their hands like eager students who couldn't wait to answer the question. She pointed at one randomly.
"Christine Woods, Reuters News. Toki Wartooth is the band member most likely to come in contact with children. How does his new sexuality impact them?"
"Quite possibly they may realize that a person's sexuality matters less than their character," Mercy said. "Toki has been bisexual all along, he's just decided that he no longer wants to hide it."
"Does this mean the Skank Patrol is going to start taking men?" Someone yelled from the back.
A titter ran through the crowd. The middle triplet joined in out of sheer relief.
"Quite possibly! We're still figuring out the logistics," she laughed.
"Are any of the other band members gay?"
"Not to my knowledge," Mercy said. "Just from personal experience with the band, I'm inclined to say 'Definitely not!'"
"What about Charles Offdensen?"
It was a fight not to laugh outright at that statement, but she managed to keep her cool. Seven years teaching second graders was wonderful training, especially when you had a reputation as the 'cool teacher' who would answer sticky questions.
"The CFO of Dethklok is heterosexual, no ifs, ands, or buts," she said simply.
"Why isn't Mr. Offdensen giving this press conference?"
"Because Mr. Offdensen is on vacation," Mercy said. "And as a symbol of what a non-issue he considers this matter, he delegated the press conference to me."
That sounded so much better than 'he's upstairs in an alcohol-induced coma but the doctors say he'll live.'
"Who are you?"
"I'm Mercy Noh; I believe I said that already."
"Who are you to be giving press conferences on behalf of Dethklok?" The same reporter snapped.
"I'm part of a small, family-run firm that is representing Dethklok's interests in a real estate matter. We were on the island to run a few matters by Nathan Explosion. Neither Mr. Offdensen nor Mr. Wartooth felt like putting down their drinks long enough to make the statement."
The reporter didn't look satisfied, but didn't ask any further questions.
"But why?" A young female reporter said plaintively. "Toki Wartooth could have any woman he wanted! Why would he want to have sex with men?"
"Well, I like sex with men," Mercy said, earning another polite round of chuckles. "I suppose it's a bit like food. You can have the finest sushi the world – and he does like sushi – but after you have it day after day after day, it really gives you a craving for a big, greasy burger."
"Does Toki realize how this will affect his public image?"
"What? You think people will think he's a limp-wristed pansy now? If you like, I suppose we could arrange some sort of bare-knuckle boxing match between the two of you to prove he's still manly . . ." Mercy said, rubbing her chin.
Another chuckle swept through the crowd as the reporter back away, shaking his head. Though she gave the impression of being totally at ease with the crowd, it was just at this point that Mercy started to relax. This press conference thing wasn't so bad; parent-teacher conferences were worse than this!
"Toki Wartooth will lose the support of a lot of parents who don't want their children to have a g – a bisexual role model!" The same reporter who had mentioned children before offered.
"Really? They're okay with the death metal, drinking, fighting, drugs, car chases, shooting at the cops, and legions of female groupies but the thought that he kisses men too is going to be the last straw?" Mercy asked. "Toki's a horrible role model. They're all horrible role models! Where have you been for the last ten years?"
"Has Toki ever had sex with Skwisgaar?" a woman called from the back.
Mercy did laugh, then. She put a hand to her lips to stop the short bark of laughter.
"I'm – I'm sorry, that was terribly unprofessional," she said, trying not to giggle. "I seriously doubt it. As hot as that would be to watch, I don't think they'd ever hook up even if they were both into guy-on-guy. They kind of hate each other, to be honest. I think Scandinavian solidarity is the only thing that keeps them together."
"Is there any chance of Toki answering a few questions?" someone yelled.
"Yeah; what's his type?"
Mercy peered back over her shoulder as the crowd laughed again. Toki was lurking behind a row of Gears, trying to stay out of line of any cameras. He didn't look as worried as he had before the press conference started, but he still shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Toki is way too busy working on his tan. Thank you all for your time and try the red snapper while you're here; it's simply divine."
Mercy flashed another million-kilowatt smile and stepped off the dias.
"Whoo! Well, that wasn't so bad," she said, leaving the press conference behind. "I thought it went rather well! What did you think?"
Toki left the row of Gears behind, trusting them to keep the paparazzi at bay.
"You dids a goods job!" He said cheerfully. "You maked it seems like so no such bigs deal to fucks guys sometimes."
"You liked that 'eat all the sushi you want and sometimes you still want a big, greasy burger', huh? Good. Have you eaten yet? Want to have breakfast?"
"Sure! Nobody else ams ups yet."
"Nathan woke up long enough to tell us to f—that he wasn't going to help," Mercy sighed.
"Ackally, he said he was helpings, we just couldn'ts tells yet," Toki said.
"Act-u-ally," the middle triplet corrected before she could stop herself.
"Acts-u-allys," Toki repeated.
"Much better. Let's eat by the pool."
The settled in on a small table by the pool and a waiter took their order.
"I likeses you; you is nice," Toki said without preamble.
"Awww, thank you, sweetie!" Mercy cooed. "I like you, too; you're very nice."
"You wantses to bes mine Mama?"
Mercy wouldn't think a mood could turn so quickly.
"Uh-"
"I means, nots for real," Toki said. "Doctors Twinkletits says I re-regrets to childs-likes states to counsteracts psychos-logicals scarrings froms severe abuse. He says its ams goods for me."
"Ooooh. Oh, so you're just role-playing with Charles and 'Papa' and . . . oh, that's a relief. Sure! I'll play Toki's Mom when I'm around."
"When yous around? You nots coming back to Mordhaus?"
"Well, that depends on Charles—EEP!" Mercy suddenly yelped as jet of cold water hit her on the leg. She quickly looked around to the source. "Damn it, Hope, that was cold!"
Hope peered over the rim of the pool.
"You're no fun!" she declared.
"We eatings breakfast!" Toki said. "Wants to joins us?"
"In a minute; I'm still swimming. How'd the press conference go?"
"Goods! Mercy . . . hehe . . . Mercy mades it sounds likes no bigs deal." Toki chuckled as Hope continued to splash at her sister's legs.
"It wasn't as . . . nggh . . . bad as some parent-teacher conferences I've done. Damn it, Hope! Knock it off!"
"Make me," Hope said with a grin.
The youngest triplet yelped as she was splashed with water. Toki tried to mime drinking out of a now-empty water glass.
"There was ice in that, you dick!" Hope said. "Eeek, it's still stuck in my hair! Help me out so I can get it out!"
"Sorries, Toki just wanted to—"
The young Norwegian muttered something in his native tongue as Hope pulled him into the pool.
"I can't believe he fell for that," Mercy sighed.
Toki surfaced, spluttering. He zeroed in on Hope and sent a splash her way that would have burst dikes. The green-clad triplet spit out a mouthful of water and splashed him back. In the next second, the pool was full of splashing, squealing, and laughter.
Mercy lifted her chair and moved around to the other side of the table.
"Don't make me separate you two!" she called.
The pair ignored her, letting the schoolteacher turn her attention back to the menu.
"Mercy!"
Faith was making her way through the tables, looking significantly more distressed than normal.
"Over here, Faith!" Mercy called. "What's the matter? Is something wrong with Charles?"
"Charles is awake and . . . well . . . apparently he had a plan for handling Toki's bisexual nature that didn't involve announcing it to the press."
"Ah. Did he tell Toki that?" Mercy asked.
"I don't think so," Faith admitted. "But he's pissed."
"At whom?" Mercy asked. "At me? We were dropped right in the middle of it and did the best we could to cover Dethklok – including Charles' – collective ass and he's pissed at me?"
"He said he wanted a word with you," Faith said.
"Oh, that's good," Mercy growled. "Because I feel like having a word with him. Let's go have some words."
The schoolteacher got out of her chair and strode into the hotel. Faith followed her, pausing when she saw paparazzi snapping photos. It turned out that they were taking pictures of Murderface. The band's bass player was making out with a redhead on his balcony.
The sound of a door slamming forcefully brought Faith back to the task at hand. The eldest triplet hurried after her sister.