Ben's House

Bellwood, CA

December 22, 2000

9:45 PM PST

"…and don't let the kids stay up all night playing games or watching movies! All right Dad?"

Max shuddered at the memory of the last words his number two daughter-in-law called out from the truck as his son backed out of the driveway six hours ago, heading to their overnight stay for the Bellwood Public Works Christmas party at the swankiest hotel downtown. He smiled grimly because of it - he'd heard almost the same thing from Lili when she and Frank got in their car that morning after dropping off Gwen before their four hour drive into San Francisco, where Frank's law firm was throwing their Christmas party. If either of his daughters-in-law knew he'd already pretty much blown that instruction they'd never let him hear the end of it!

Not so much from his boys, although Carl nodded his head in agreement with his wife's plea. They'd both gotten very… twitchy … about the kids spending time with each other. Studying and karate were unobjectionable, but less structured pastimes got an overdose of parental supervision, even as the kids accepted and followed the new rules and restrictions. Grudgingly, to be sure, but they made the best of it anyway, especially once they understood the importance of doing so. Regardless, Carl and Sandy were particularly vigilant when Gwen and Ben huddled together in a bedroom side by each on the bed while they watched a movie, or jostled and bumped each other during a video game.

Max could at least claim truthfully that he followed Sandy's injunction - they hadn't been playing games until late at night, and they finished the movie shortly after 8:45, along with the pizzas they made first.

It really was a shame neither set of parents had seen that bit of kitchen theater. The cousins agreed to the dare that came naturally after seeing what was in the fridge after Max's latest trip to his favorite boutique grocery store; they'd eat - sight unseen! - whatever the other created for them. Even Max was banished to the family room while Ben and Gwen, in turn, layered on toppings one after the other in the kitchen after they'd made the pie dough and sauce together and formed it all into two identical cheese pizzas. The complaining and shenanigans from start to finish were off the chart even for those two, and Max silently cursed himself for not having his camera handy even as he cracked up laughing so many times he lost count. Especially when he went into the kitchen shortly after a particularly explosive verbal jousting match that apparently involved one of them not adding flour to the mixer exactly the way the other demanded, resulting in one of the finest flour bomb detonations he'd seen in many years. The sight of Gwen's blazing hair looking like an English powdered wig and Ben enveloped in a white cloud, both with stunned faces that morphed into howls of laughter, left Max slumped against the wall gasping through his own near hysterical laughing fit. And after all that, despite ingredients like grub worms, sliced squid and Rocky Mountain oysters, both created pies that were the other's favorite - a regular four topping meat lover and a pineapple Canadian bacon and jalapeño - that were devoured with squeals of delight and noises of gastronomic enjoyment. With two slices from each pie set aside for Max, too.

And a remarkably quiet moment when the kids insisted they'd clean up the kitchen without Max's help, one that started with murmured thank you's for the carefully crafted pizzas and ended half a minute later when the sounds of running water in the sink and dishes clinking in the dishwasher racks started.

Gwen didn't really seem in the mood for video games when they came down for some ice cream after the first fifteen minutes upstairs, and somewhat surprisingly neither did Ben. It didn't take much for her to convince him she'd rather hear him play his guitar, and the way his green eyes sparkled mischievously as he pretended to complain before hauling his guitar and amp to the family room was a foreshadow that he'd learned some new songs and was actually itching to play them.

Along with several from the dance they were at last month, also at Gwen's urging, specifically for Max to hear as well.

"Really, Sport?! You want me to listen?"

"Well, yeah, Grandpa. You said you wanted to, didn't you?"

"Yes! Yes, of course I did! I just didn't think you'd want to do that like this…"

"Better sit down and take him up on it, Grandpa, before he changes his mind. You know how bashful he gets about being the center of attention!" Gwen smirked as they all remembered one time or another when Ben strutted for his 'adoring fans' after they saved the day with their heroics. If anyone loved the spotlight, it was definitely that boy!

Except when he played music, though. It wasn't until just the last few months that he'd let anyone besides his cousin hear it; and then the kid did his usual outlandish thing and played in a garage band and sang in front of his school dance! And by all accounts was better than 'pretty good' at both, something Max heard from multiple sources besides the red headed girl that damn near gushed when she told the story, much to his amusement.

So he took a seat in the family room easy chair while Gwen tucked her legs under her at her place on the couch while Ben regaled them both with truly outstanding renditions of various contemporary rock 'n roll songs. He even threw in some electrified Christmas songs he'd learned for the season; Ben absolutely nailed the Mannheim Steamroller tune with his over the top bombastic chord work, then played an astonishingly sensitive version of Silent Night. It was all every bit as good as a lot of the rock shows he'd seen when he was much younger, Max thought, smiling as his grandson rocked out, fingers dancing on the strings and looking up every once in a while to grin at the girl soaking up the music.

That girl liked it, too. She must have, otherwise how to explain her happy cheers and applause, rapt attention, dancing in her seat, and positively glowing as she smiled at her…

At her…

Boyfriend.

Max still had a hard time thinking that word and it's counterpart, even though he stopped having misgivings about their relationship.

Mostly.

The kids proved they were being careful together - his 'chat' with them after Thanksgiving had its intended effect, he was pleased to see - hardly showing overt signs of more than familial affection around their parents. They were usually less restrained when they were with only him, but still discreet. And even when they thought they were on their own, they didn't get so carried away with each other and do something too advanced for their age and length of time in their relationship.

The fact the kids were rarely completely unobserved left Max as conflicted as his Plumber nephew and his wife that the kids' protection detail saw those private moments, and if Ben and Gwen were typical teenagers they would be justifiably outraged if they knew about it. But the fact they were as powerful as they were, even if they barely recognized it, led to them being targeted on a capture or kill list by at least two well-resourced organizations, and that outweighed their privacy. None of the Tennyson Plumbers could deny Merlin's logic about that.

Still, Max kept tight control of each individual's access to his grandchildren's information to preserve as much of their privacy as possible. That's why Joel and Camille were still the leads for the kids' protection details, despite both itching to get back into field work.

Not that either of them found protection duty completely unrewarding, much to their surprise. Gwen and Ben had provided plenty of entertainment over the years even if they didn't know they were. Their often astonishing acts of heroing - as if their abilities to do magic or transform into alien forms wasn't breathtaking enough on their own - and hilarious antics afterwards as they blew off the resulting adrenaline rush were far better than any circus or blues bar or comedy club could ever match. And the way they gradually discovered the depth of their concern and affection for each other rivaled the best romcom and coming of age shows, if for no other reason than they were real, not some writer's imagination.

The recorded video briefing of one of their most recent and touching displays diverted Max's attention away from Ben's music…

—

Saturday, November 26

Point Arena Lighthouse

Point Arena, CA

5:15 PM

They were returning from a late afternoon hike as the sun drooped in the sky, and stopped to watch the sunset on a cliff overlooking the ocean not far from their camp site. There were thin, white clouds closer to the horizon than overhead, but the horizon itself was clear and well defined.

"Perfect conditions for a green flash - clear weather, no haze on the horizon. Maybe we'll get lucky and see one." Max commented.

"Green flash?" "What do you mean, Grandpa?" the kids asked quizzically.

"Well, with the weather conditions like this, sometimes there's a flash of emerald green light just as the sun goes below the horizon." Max explained.

Ben rolled his and scoffed. "It does not! That's just another one of your stories! I've seen plenty of sunsets and never seen that!"

Max gave him an earnest look and shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't seen it either, but that's what I heard from some Navy fighter jocks that had to layover at my air base in Vietnam once after they got shot up during a mission. They said it wasn't that uncommon to see from their carrier."

"Don't be so sure, Doofus." Gwen added with her thoughtful look. "The atmosphere can act like a prism, like for rainbows, so … It sounds possible to me." she mused. She gave Ben a reflective look. "Come on, let's give it a try."

They stopped just south of a lighthouse and sat down at the edge of the trail along the cliff above the rocky beach. The bottom edge of the setting sun was almost at the horizon, and the clouds closest to it were starting to look like pink cotton candy.

"Looks like we caught it just in time." Max said as he sat with a groan behind the kids. "If it happens we should see it in a few minutes."

The sky seemed to catch fire as the sun descended through the horizon, the high, wispy clouds reflecting the day-end light shifting from yellow to burnt orange to a breathtaking crimson. Just as the top edge of the sun's now orange-red disk dipped below where the ocean and the sky met there was a brilliant emerald green flash for just a second. Gwen gasped quietly at the sight, covering her mouth with her right hand. Ben just let out a low, breathy "Whoa…!" All three sat in silent amazement, sharing the rare event for a long, comfortable moment in the fading light from the sun as it continued its descent below the horizon, still illuminating the clouds, causing their color to change to a deeper shade of red.

"That was awesome!" the mesmerized boy murmured in the same low voice, uncharacteristically being careful to not break the mood.

Max glanced away from the horizon where the reflection of the now gone sun was fading away, to the backs of his grandchildren sitting in front of him. He chuckled once softly at the sight of the two of them close together; close enough that Gwen's left hand was holding Ben's right in such a natural way that he doubted they even realized what they were doing. He stood up from his position, holding back another groan from the twinges from his long-suffering knees and back so he wouldn't ruin their moment.

"Well, that was worth the wait! … I'm going to head back to the camp site and start dinner. You guys can stay here for a while if you want, I'm only making some hamburgers. Nothing that I can't do on my own."

Both kids twisted to look up at him from where they sat, still unconsciously holding hands. "OK, Grandpa. We'll be back in a little while." Gwen replied.

Max's direct recollection of the scene ended there; it wasn't until days later that Zeta X-ray One and Two filled in the next fifteen minutes of detail between the time he returned to the camp site and when the kids caught up. When they did, he'd wondered what they'd been up to that both had bits of beach grass and trail sand on their backs. The Plumber observation system the Zeta team had was exceptionally good at capturing high quality audio and video, even from the distance the surveillance team operated it from.

Gwen turned back to see Ben staring intently at her; she cocked her head to the right in return as a decidedly bashful look spread over her face.

"What are you looking at, Doofus?" the girl said self consciously, her right hand absently brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"You, duh." Ben's gaze didn't waver, although his normally loud voice had a hushed tone.

"Yeah? And what's so interesting about me?" she asked in a matching voice, gazing into his eyes the way he was doing to her.

He looked at the edge of the cliff above the beach, suddenly equally bashful. "Your eyes, they're the color of that green flash. And they're just as awesome." He looked back at her, and apparently what he saw in her eyes was enough to make him blush furiously, his face a burning red.

"Oh man! I said that out loud, didn't I?!"

Gwen let out a short, gentle laugh. "Yes you did, Doofus! And you can't take it back, I heard every word!" Her voice took on a shy quality similar to his. "And for the record, I was thinking the same thing about you. Guess having the same eyes isn't so bad after all!"

They gazed at each other in silence before Ben's lips curled up in a smile. "Nope!" He shifted the way he was sitting so his body was facing her more directly and leaned towards her. "Neither is having the same lips…" he murmured.

Gwen leaned in his direction and brought her right hand up to her boyfriend's left cheek. "Uh huh…" she whispered right before both sets of lips met as the two took advantage of the romantic setting, completely unaware that just because their grandfather had left didn't mean they were unobserved. Ten seconds into the kiss Ben wrapped his arms around Gwen and pulled her down with him as he laid back on the grass; she caught herself with her hands on either side of his head without breaking contact. The dark red of the sky faded to deep blue as the smolder in the girl and boy's eyes increased before they closed in affectionate bliss and Ben's right hand found the back of Gwen's head.

The picture and audio abruptly stopped then - Camille explained that she had maintained her surveillance but decided there was no need to record the rest of their romantic interlude. She did use the words 'sweetest' and 'tender' in her unofficial report to Max when they returned to Bellwood, though, as she wiped a bit of excess moisture from one eye while telling it. It really was remarkable how well she took on human form…

—

Max took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to file that memory in his mind. As he came back to the present, he heard the final chord of the song Ben finished fade away as Gwen squealed in delight, both kids beaming at each other. If they noticed he checked out during the tune, neither one said anything about it.

After a dozen songs, the third flip phone of the matched set Ben Upgraded two years earlier buzzed on the kitchen counter. All three stared at the sudden interruption before Max got up to retrieve it and silence the alarm he'd set two days ago. As he turned towards the front door, he kept a carefully casual look on his face in response to the looks of surprise, then grudging acceptance on his grandkids'.

"Grandpa…?" Gwen said quietly as she got up to stand next to Ben, who just glowered at the now silent phone in Max's hand.

"Sorry for the interruption… I have something I need to take care of for a little while. I'll be in the RV" Max said, "and no, I'm not leaving in it." he added firmly. He hoped so, anyway - that depended entirely on how well the impending op went. With any luck the primary action would be successful and none of the contingency plans would be needed.

"I won't be more than half an hour. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Sure Grandpa" Ben finally said in a flat voice. "We're not going anywhere."

Ben had never been good at masking his emotions, although he often expressed them as anger since he didn't know another way. Gwen had a wider range of expressions, but was more prone to using a concerned look to mask what she was feeling. There was no hiding the look of betrayal that flashed quickly over both his grandchildren's faces now, though; a look Max had seen from both before, a mirror of the same look he'd seen in his boys' eyes twenty-five years earlier. It hurt now as much as it had then, even if he knew the reason for his absence was to keep them safe.

The last thing Max saw as he went out the front door was twin concerned frowns on the kids' faces as Ben interlaced his fingers with Gwen's.

- H -

Planetary Defense HQ

Alternate Mission Control Room

Undisclosed Location

December 22, 2000

0210 Zulu

Merlin walked purposefully towards the frosted glass doors, then hesitated a step before continuing into the mission control room, a habit he developed when automatic doors were first installed at Avalon. The door proximity sensors and opening mechanisms worked, but not quite quick enough to keep up with his normal fast pace. What looked fast and efficient in that futuristic space sociology-adventure sci-fi TV series never quite delivered the promised function. Not surprising, in hindsight - the reality when the show was made was the damn things were actually operated by stage crew hidden from view. Earth technology had since caught up to the fiction, but it hadn't quite delivered the promised operating speed. The delay was irritating, adding just that little bit more to his typical frustration level with the world around him.

"Merlin and squadron deputy commander on the floor" the man at the console nearest the door announced. Only the Fire Control Combat Commander, an Air Force captain, glanced in his direction as Merlin and the Air Force planetary defense squadron Director of Operations approached the platform that was two feet higher than the rest of the room's floor. The other operators spread between the combat commander's dais and the video wall stayed focused on their respective workstations. Good. This crew had good ops discipline, no need for anyone else in the room to be distracted from their current combat tasks.

Merlin glanced at the fifteen foot high wall across the room covered by a large, two row by four column array of 60" flat screen monitors

with multiple text and graphics readouts showing various status indications for this mission. They were dominated by two map displays, one showing an expanded 3D view of the area in space surrounding Earth, the second a square map of Northern California centered between the cities of Eureka on the north and San Jose to the south. One red symbol was moving towards Earth on the first display; several blue symbols were similarly moving around San Francisco and Bellwood on the second. A third monitor displayed a table labeled 'Asset Location' with multiple rows of code names and green dots in cells that intersected with several columns of geographic locations that included 'HOME', 'ANGELWOOD', 'MADISON', 'OFFICE', 'FT HOPPER' and 'SAN FRANCISCO'. A fourth monitor had a video feed of what looked like a large concrete and sand bunker in front of a deep blue ocean under a brilliant, cloudless sky; a label on the bottom left read 'Interceptor Launch Site - Kwajalein'.

To a trained eye - and Jim's were as trained from many decades of experience as those of the newly qualified crew commander's - the information elements about the critical components of the mission were readily apparent. The displays didn't always reflect the full, up to the second picture, though.

"Mission status" he said crisply as he and the squadron DO took places beside the much younger officer.

"Tracking inbound warhead, sir, no deviation from projected trajectory to the expected target. Interceptors are standing by for launch on command. All Assets are in expected locations, with evac flights approaching their orbit areas and ground backups on station." the woman said. "Interceptor Mission Control has OPCON, Col Kirby is also at IMC." The squadron deputy, a lieutenant colonel, let out a soft breath - Merlin couldn't tell if it was out of mild irritation at not having operational control of the engagement, or relief that if it went sideways his boss - Col Kirby, the squadron commander - would be held to account instead of him.

That was always one of the problems with field grade and up military types - they were often as not as focused on their career as the situation at hand. That was why at least a third of the ops floor staff were either clandestine Plumbers or Air Force enlisted crew that were being evaluated for recruitment. They generally got the bigger picture, uncluttered by career considerations.

"You're sure the Primaries are where we think they are? They're good at being where they shouldn't." Huxby grumbled.

"Yes sir. Ground Protection says they're both at the Watch's house. The boy and the Witch are in his room at the moment - apparently listening to some music, as a matter of fact. Weird mix, classic rock ballads and switched on Christmas tunes." the captain said the last sentence with a bemused tone, then reverted to her crisp, professional voice. "Ground protection are tracking his parents at a party in a Bellwood hotel; her's are at her father's office party in San Francisco."

The lieutenant colonel murmured "Ah, young love. Always finds a way…" The man had two kids of his own, Merlin recalled, both in high school. There might have been a story there, if Jim cared to hear it. Except he didn't care.

Merlin glared at him. "Yeah, to throw a monkey wrench into any plan they're even peripherally part of. Their Romeo and Juliette act grates on my nerves; why don't they just get on with it?" he growled. "We could free up at least two teams of operators if those two just stayed together."

The light colonel gave him an incredulous look. "Because they aren't Romeo and Juliette's age! For Pete's sake, they're not even teenagers yet!"

"Sirs" the Plumber at the console marked 'Asset Protection' interrupted "Both Starlight recovery helos report on station, orbiting 3 minutes from their pickup locations. Starlight One will get the Primaries and the Watch's parents, Two will get the Witch's. San Francisco is far enough away to be outside any anticipated blast radius."

Jim grunted acknowledgment, any stray thoughts of teenage romance brushed away. If the City was affected by any blast over Bellwood they'd have much bigger problems to deal with than the capture or execution of those kids.

"Control, where's Whiskey?" Merlin called to the room.

"Whiskey Tango is at the house with the Primaries." one of the usual female voices of Avalon replied from unseen overhead speakers. "Someone's got to chaperone those two lovebirds! … Whiskey is monitoring the intercept from his location."

"Hmmpf. Getting caught in the same bed will be the least of their worries if the exo intercept misses." Merlin muttered.

"If the Nike Hercs miss, there's still the Patriot batteries at Fort Hopper outside Bellwood. They're on alert, too." the squadron number two replied. "The big Army isn't always on top of things, but Hallam's got his garrison up to scratch."

On cue, the Staff Sergeant at the Terminal Guidance & Control station popped another video on one of the edge displays, a night scene of a missile transporter-launcher vehicle in its deployed ready-to-launch configuration.

A yellow dash line appeared on the view of the Earth as the red target symbol approached the planet. "Here we go. Heads up, people." the Crew Commander said tersely. "The warhead is approaching the intercept boundary. TGC, be ready to take control if there's any problem with Intercept Mission Control."

"Copy that, ma'am. TGC is ready."

"Warhead is at the outer edge of intercept envelope." a sergeant at the Radar Surveillance console announced.

"There goes Kwaj…" murmured the TGC operator as the Interceptor Launch Site video showed sudden flashes of yellow flames and smoke erupting from the sides of the bunker.

A new voice sounded over the overhead speaker. "Alternate Mission Control, Terminal G&C. First shot of the Hercules salvo is away. … And the dash two is away. … Both missiles tracking as expected. Intercept in four minutes." The video of the Kwajalein launch bunker flashed twice as both missiles shot into the sky trailing fire and smoke.

The room took on a tense silence as all eyes watched two blue symbols appear near the surface of the Earth. The blue and red symbols crept towards each other.

"AMC, Terminal G&C. T plus ninety seconds. Both missiles at mid-point of boost burn. All indicators nominal."

"AMC, Terminal G&C. T plus one eighty seconds. Nominal intercept profile."

The sergeant manning the Ground Protection console below the Crew Command dais broke the silence with an update. "Captain, Ground Protection reports both Starlight helos are inbound to their pickup locations. Ground teams have confirmed the Assets are in quarters."

"Copy that" the Captain replied crisply.

"AMC, Terminal G&C. T plus three minutes eighteen seconds. Both salvo launch burns complete, standby for intercept."

The clock on the wall behind the command dais was a round, electric model, and amazingly the click of the second hand moving was the only sound in the room.

"AMC, Terminal G&C. T plus three minutes fifty seconds. Salvo one missed the target warhead. Say again, negative intercept for salvo one. Salvo two on nominal trajectory."

Several operators made hushed sounds of disappointment. "Shit" "Dammit" "Come on number two…"

"AMC, Terminal G&C. T plus four minutes six seconds. Salvo two approaching target. No target track changes detected, repeat, target is not maneuvering. … Expected intercept in five, four, three, two… Positive intercept. Say again, positive intercept. Radar returns indicate spreading debris field."

"Yes!" "Got 'im!" The members of the combat crew on the floor reacted a tad louder than usual to the successful destruction of the Sui Generis warhead. Even the Crew Commander - the young woman said nothing, but pumped her right fist once with a fierce grin.

"AMC, Interceptor Mission Command. Radar Surveillance and optical tracker confirms positive target kill at T plus four twenty-five. Debris field still expanding, five individually detected objects in the field plus a lot of clutter."

Col Kirby's voice came next. "All stations, IMC. Secure from battle stations. Repeat, all stations secure from combat ops. Tell the Starlights to complete their training mission profile and return to base. All Patriot batteries resume OPCON Bravo for at least the rest of the night, Hallam's battalion can figure out the details of resuming to Alpha. All Ground Protect teams resume normal ops status."

The man paused, and then spoke again in a voice that was relieved and had a hint of amusement. "Oh, and Control, tell Whiskey Tango we're good. He can go back to keeping those kids from doing … whatever it is they shouldn't be doing together."

"IMC, Control. Copy. Get some sleep, you all earned it. Control has the con." the anonymous woman's voice replied, also with barely hidden mirth.

Merlin scowled at the relieved faces around the control room. "Sleep my ass. Not with everything else that's on the verge of going to hell in a hand basket." he grumbled. "There'll be time enough to sleep when we're dead."

He turned and stalked towards the control room exit and the next crisis on his to do list, the lieutenant colonel following in his wake.

- X -

Bridge of the Chimera Sui Generis

Star Cruiser Retribution

"Commander, our surveillance drone in orbit around the planet detected an anomaly - the Earthers have launched two projectiles from a small outpost in the middle of their largest ocean. Our weapon is following the planned trajectory." The surveillance operator turned from his seat to face the command dais. "Do they really believe they can stop our weapon?!"

"Did you not review the reports about the other two weapons we launched at Terra? Both were successfully intercepted by their mid-star system defenses. The Earther's used a nuclear warhead to destroy ours, and were only separated by half a kilometer. And don't forget the intelligence reports from many cycles ago about a similar weapon intercept launched from the same outpost? In that test, their intercept of an inbound vehicle resulted in a kinetic impact." The commander frowned at the subordinate operators at their various positions.

"Do not underestimate either our adversaries or their weapons. To do so is foolishly optimistic."

The surveillance operator turned back to his workstation. Three minutes later he reported with some alarm "Commander, the projectiles are closing on our weapon." He glanced back to the dais. "Calculations show they will come within fifty meters. That's close enough…"

"For even a non-nuclear warhead to affect our weapon." the commander replied.

Ninety seconds later the operator reported in a dead voice "Their second missile has destroyed our weapon. … They used a nuclear detonation." All heads turned towards the command platform.

"Our mission to eliminate the helf't and his Abomination mate has failed."

The commander shook his head. "No, suborn. It is only delayed. Did you think High Command failed to plan for this? Our weapons only had a fifty percent chance of getting through. There are contingency plans we will use to respond. Have our assault forces been detected?"

Another operator spoke out. "No, commander, there are no indications of that."

"Very well. Prepare to recover the landing craft, and move us to the outer planet of the system as soon as they are aboard. We will confer with High Command there."

- M -

Ben's house

11:52 PM

Max reached under the dashboard to flip the hidden switch that turned off the duplicate of Avalon's combat operations display on the RV's windshield, stood up from the driver's seat and stretched. It felt good to get up from the seat even though he was used to sitting in it for hours; he hadn't realized how tense his back and shoulders had gotten during the engagement. "Copy that, Control - successful intercept, all backup evac plans reverting to cold standby. The situation here is nominal. … Tell the guys with the pocket rockets we appreciate their efforts to keep us safe. Glad the others just had a normal training mission."

"Will do, Whiskey. And good luck keeping your little sweethearts in line!" the familiar woman's voice replied over the radio. It wasn't hard to hear the playful giggle in it, even if she was too professional to actually do that. Max had to chuckle at the command of the English language the woman displayed again. She really had a knack for using words that had so many layers of meaning, each one making perfect sense even if you didn't know the others were there.

Sweethearts? Yeah, his grandkids were all that, in every meaning in the dictionary and then some. "They behave just fine, Control. Most of the time… Except for when they aren't being sweethearts."

This time the woman laughed out loud. "Don't we know it! … Since the immediate situation is under control, you and your family have a Merry Christmas, Whiskey."

"Thanks, Control. Merry Christmas to everyone there, too - even that grumpy old Scrooge! Whiskey Tango out." Max pushed the controls on the dash radio in just the right sequence, and the soft chuckle from Control was abruptly replaced by pop holiday music before he hit the Off button. He exited out the side door and made his way back to the house, stuffing his hands in his pockets from the cold.

He heaved a sigh of relief as he walked back to the house. The God he sometimes prayed to had looked benevolently on them again - that, and the planet defense squadron's precision technology and training paid off. Max knew before the mission started that it had a high probability of success one way or another, even if the volley from Kwajalein whiffed. There were still the Patriot batteries at Fort Hopper, and the just-deployed laser cannon that could have been used, even though it hadn't gotten initial operational capability declared yet. Not even the planetary defense squadron knew that battery was ready even without the IOC designation; the Plumbers still liked to hold some aces close to the vest. And if the alien warhead slipped through all that, the choppers and the ground response special ops troops from Hallam's command were on the ball.

The newly recruited director for VIP protection had been gobsmacked last week when the full extent of the kids' defenses had been briefed; the ex-Secret Service supervisor couldn't believe the multiple layers of protection in place. And had the ill-considered nerve to express it so incredulously.

'All this for a couple pre-teen kids?! I didn't have resources like this for the President!'

Max was just about to let him have it, but Merlin beat him to it. 'The President is expendable. Those two kids aren't!' he growled at him. 'They are the two most powerful weapons Earth has! If you doubt that, go back and re-look at what they did in Phoenix! We'll do whatever it takes to protect them, at least until they've been trained to work as part of Earth defense forces.' The old SOB paused so his dressing down sank in.

'Your job is to make sure we're doing exactly that. Don't make me regret hiring you!' He shot the man with a red hot glare, then turned it on Max.

'And you, Whiskey Tango… make sure he doesn't have to do this for those two for much longer!'

To his credit, the new Plumber swallowed that bitter pill and added two man portable air-defense teams to the ground protection detail. The MANPADS Stinger missiles would cover the helos from airborne threats, just in case.

Of course, none of this took into account his grandkids' special abilities to protect themselves and their parents, if it came to that. For good reasons - in addition to not knowing how to work with a team besides themselves, they could be a bit … messy. The reports and videos from their self-initiated hero times proved that, even though they never intended to cause mayhem and destruction. They'd be working on being more aware of collateral damage, among other things, when their training started.

Then there was the fact Ben wasn't currently wearing the Omnitrix, either.

And that wasn't a bad thing as far as Max was concerned. That sorry son of a bitch at Avalon could kiss his ass; his grandchildren would get as much time as possible to just be teens as he could manage. He owed them that much, at least.

He smiled as he entered the house and closed the door on the cold December night, listening. Ben was still playing his guitar, but the kids had moved back upstairs, presumably for a little privacy - the nature of the songs was so much different now than how Ben started. He'd moved on from rock and holiday tunes, and now it was… Max listened closely to the picked notes drifting down the stairs and recognized them from the surveillance video of his school's dance - Always With Me, Always With You. His grandson had played it as a spirited duet with his older buddy Paul, and even though the front man for the band called it a love song the kids in the audience were cheering and hollering over the fast, tricky runs both boys played. This time, though, Ben had slowed the tempo and played it in a quieter, unplugged style at lower volume, giving the tune a distinctly intimate mood. Max sucked in a sharp breath at the realization - no one who knew the boy could have guessed he had that kind of emotion in him, let alone be willing to show it so overtly. Then again, he obviously intended for only one person to hear it, and she knew him better even than his parents.

Max wished he could be a fly on the wall so he could watch both such an unexpected performance by the normally rowdy boy, and see what the emphatic but emotionally reserved girl's response to it was. Unlike earlier that night when she showed happy but constrained appreciation for his music, Gwen wasn't making any sounds during this song. That didn't necessarily mean she wasn't reacting, though - Max had observed them many times since their awful summer, directly and after the fact, when they were quietly enjoying each other. When his granddaughter's usually sharp, bright features softened to an equally expressive show of affection that matched his grandson's, and was also meant for only one person to see.

When Ben let the last note he played fade out there was a moment of silence, then a murmured "That was awesome, Doofus!" that Max had to strain to hear from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. Then there was a long half minute of more quiet that wasn't hard for the old man to imagine what they might be doing - he knew what he'd do if he had his Starshine with him, and he'd seen the kids indulge in mostly modest expressions of affection more than once since the time at the lake.

It was late, though, and the kids needed to get to sleep; if he couldn't truthfully say they were in bed if either of his daughters-in-law called he knew there'd be hell to pay. Even so, Max delayed telling them so and let them have this private moment while he indulged in his musings.

With a short jolt he realized the tune, and who knew how many others had preceded it while he was in the RV, wasn't just a set that Ben liked to play and Gwen liked to hear. There was always that, of course, otherwise why would he have learned the instrument to begin with, and why would she encourage him to play while she listened so closely. Music made them happy, and his preferred choice of songs and styles let him show his feelings in a way that words never could.

And playing for his cousin wasn't just to show off what he could do. There was that, too, but the way Ben played - it was more than just songs they liked or something to do when they hung out. It was a gift, a very personal gift the boy gave to the girl with no expectation of getting one in return. He did it to make her happy, and her happiness became his.

He did it to tell her what he felt, without saying words that were so foreign to him.

Max remembered sharing times like this with his Verdona, although he never could play the music. His sons did it for their girlfriends - now wives - too. But as far as he knew none of them ever told those stories to his grandchildren. He certainly didn't; it was far too personal to share with barely-teenagers.

Like the Tennysons they are, they just figured it out for themselves. His Sport did it for his Pumpkin all on his own.

No, Max realized with a start. Not for his Pumpkin. And not for Ben's cousin Gwen. It was for the boy's Dweeb. His girlfriend, the special person who had a special place in his heart, the same as how the girl had a matching place in her's for her Doofus.

It was at once the sweetest and most problematic thing he'd ever seen. If only their parents could see the two this way, would they see what Max saw?

Would what Ben was saying without using the word be accepted by the family, as it was - and returned - by Gwen?

And what about their friends, and society in general? Would the world let the kids be what they were becoming to each other?

Max could only hope. And be ready in case they didn't.

He put his hand on the bannister and hauled himself up the stairs, making no effort to lessen the creaking that reverberated in the stairwell from each step. Whatever the kids were doing in the quiet, he gave them fair warning that it would soon be interrupted. At the top of the stairs he turned down the hall to Ben's bedroom, noting with approval that his door was open wider than the parentally approved three inches, and that the light coming from it was from the medium bright nightstand lamp. They really were good kids; there was no scrambling to indicate they did anything but meet the rules their parents insisted on.

When he got to the bedroom door, he cleared his throat just a touch louder than was necessary before tapping on the door to push it open. "Hey you two…"

Gwen answered immediately. "Come on in, Grandpa."

He stepped through the doorway and stopped, pleased to see his trust in them wasn't misplaced. Although the kids were huddled shoulder to shoulder on Ben's bed, they were half propped up against the headboard in a way that made it clear they either weren't fooling around in a way that would upset their parents; or, if they had been, they had the presence of mind to pay attention to the creaking sound of the stairs and adjust themselves accordingly. Either way, there was nothing in how they were lounging on top of the covers that would cause even Carl to object. The sight made him smile.

"You just missed it, Ben just put his guitar away. Said his fingers were half a song away from making him bleed to death, the wimp!" she teased with a short giggle.

"Hey! You try rocking out for so long and see how your fingertips look!" the boy next to her complained back with the least antagonistic scowl Max had ever seen. The glare in his eyes would barely chase off a scavenging mouse and had no effect on his girlfriend at all.

Well, almost none. She did look back at him with playful fire in her eyes before murmuring "Oh, poor baby!" through a smirk, then pressed a quick kiss into his cheek.

Ben rolled his eyes and used the arm he had hidden behind her back to pull her close. "So, is the world safe from exploding tonight, Grandpa?" he asked in a mostly sarcastic way. The boy tried and almost pulled off his usual over-confident attitude, and Gwen had a relaxed look on her face. Even so, Max could see a flicker of apprehension in both sets of eyes and some tension in both of their shoulders.

"Nothing's gonna happen that I know about, anyway, Sport" Max replied with a small grin. "Everything is just as it should be. … Except that you two are still up!" He raised his hands as if to ward off the complaints the kids sent at him - "Aw, come on Gramps! Give us another half hour!" "Yeah Grandpa, it not like we have school tomorrow or anything!"

"Now, you know what your parents said about getting to sleep at a decent hour. You're already way past what they had in mind. Go on, get ready for bed."

He turned and headed for the stairs, confident the kids would do as he asked despite the grumbling he heard behind him.

A short time later he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs, as they came into the family room hand in hand, acting like the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof.

"Something wrong? Is the guest room missing something, Pumpkin?" Max said, peering over the top of the book he was reading.

Gwen glanced at the antsy boy next to her, then stared at the floor. "Grandpa, we were… um, we were wondering…" she stammered as her cheeks started turning pink.

Ben shifted on his feet, eyes darting around before he looked at an unseen spot somewhere over Max's left shoulder. "Can we sleep in the not-Rustbucket tonight?" he blurted out. Gwen's blush deepened as she nodded her head.

"Really?! Not the most comfortable beds, and I have to admit the old girl's a bit drafty. Why?"

Gwen tried again but still couldn't say whatever their motivation was. "Well, see, we want… we want to…" she stammered, still looking down at her Christmas-sock-covered feet.

Ben looked him in the eyes and put his free hand to the back of his head. "Because… well, the thing is … We want to sleep together!"

"DOOFUS!" the proper red head gasped, shocked out of her bashfulness with mortification. She jerked her head up and stared at him, eyes wide as plates as she clamped the hand holding his tight, tight enough to turn her knuckles white, and covered her mouth with her available hand.

"What?!" Ben asked, turning his head to look at their joined hands before not quite glaring back at her, confused by her reaction. Then his brain caught up with what his mouth just said and his head jolted to look at Max, horrified by his words as his whole face burned from his neck up.

"OH CRAP! Grandpa, that's not what I meant!" His words tumbled out in a panicked shout. "We… we don't… That's not…I mean…"

Max recovered from the shock of hearing those words faster than his grandkids did, and suppressed the urge to laugh. He knew they weren't planning to do what the words meant in popular culture - if these two wanted to do that, they'd had plenty of opportunities before now. And if the question ever came up, he had surveillance proof that they never took advantage of them, although they seemed to be heading in that direction more than once. But even that was a good news story; they had recognized what they were approaching and always stopped when they did.

Even without that, the frantic response he was seeing to Ben's scandalous choice of words was convincing by itself. Both kids could lie very convincingly - something Max was often ashamed that he taught them - but neither could ever fake a reaction like this.

No, Ben did not just blurt out that they wanted to have sex tonight!

Max did have a suspicion about what they really wanted, though, and that was still unsettling. Even when he understood why he found them asleep in Ben's bunk last month - condoned it, actually, given the circumstances - he'd specifically talked to them about how it would have looked to anyone but him, and they'd agreed they wouldn't again. He was pleased when they followed through on that pledge and stayed in their own beds the next night. He wanted to believe they'd keep with it, but teenage hormones were powerful chemicals.

"Ohmygod, Doofus, you didn't really just say that?!" the girl exclaimed on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Calm down, Sport! You too, Gwen. I know you didn't mean that the way it came out." he said kindly as he put his book in his lap and held his palms out towards them. "What did you mean, Ben?" Even though he was pretty sure, Max wanted to hear it directly.

Ben was still flustered, but answered in a more coherent way. "Grandpa, you have to believe me! I…" He took a deep breath. "We want to sleep near each other. … Hearing my Dweeb's breathing, it helps me go to sleep, too! We can't do that in the same bedroom, though - that'd be too weird now!"

"Me too, Grandpa." Gwen said, shifting her grip from his hand to hold his arm with both of her hands. "We've slept in the RV plenty of times, though. And… well, we kind of miss it." she finished, ducking her head again. But not her eyes.

"You're not still having nightmares, are you?" Max asked. It was hard to keep his concern from coming out too forcefully.

"No…" the girl said softly, averting her gaze.

Ben squirmed a little. "Sometimes." he said to the floor, still flustered. "But nowhere as much as before Thanksgiving!" he added quickly.

Max considered their request. It made sense, and it was nice that they had happy memories of time spent in his new home that made it appealing. And if all they wanted was to fall asleep together, being in separate bedrooms wouldn't have been much of an obstacle; the upstairs floors didn't creak like the stairs did.

"Yes, we can do that." he said, grinning as both kids let out happy noises. "But don't forget I hear everything that goes on in my Old Girl! Don't make me regret this."

"We won't, Grandpa! " "You got it, Gramps!"

They spun on their heels and raced for the stairs. Max smiled as they went, then chuckled when he heard a thump when one of them missed a stair.

"Ow! No fair, Dweeb!" Ben complained, as Gwen crowed "Yes! I win!" from halfway down the hall to the guest room. "Try and keep up, Doofus!"

Even as they changed, they stayed the same.

- X -

"All right, lights out you two." Grandpa called from the dining booth. "Sleep good!"

"OK Grandpa!" they called out together. Ben flipped the switch on the wall, turning the lightbulbs in the two wall sconces off, leaving their bunks lit by the warm, subdued glow of the nightlight charm on a shelf next to the bottom one. The one they both preferred and used to fight over; now the one that even he thought of as Gwen's. Not that she wouldn't share it with him when the dining booth got too cramped when they watched a movie or listened to music. There was nothing like cozying up next to her anywhere, and the small space of the bunk just emphasized the feeling of closeness that their bedrooms didn't have.

He felt warm arms wrapping around his middle as she hugged him from behind, pressing her chest and stomach into his back. Her hands ended up on his stomach and chest the way she liked to do, and she kissed his left cheek gently before she rested her chin on his shoulder. He felt her tighten the hug when he put his arms and hands over hers and leaned back into it. The feeling of closeness and affection was amazing, and he loved every bit of it, especially the soft happy noise she hummed in his ear.

It was one of those situations where they just appreciated each other in a quiet and personal way; it was also sometimes a way they could talk to each other about anything without any fear of embarrassment or rejection or disapproval. Like when one of them somehow knew the other wasn't quite right, or had something bugging them. Ben had that feeling now about his girlfriend since Grandpa agreed they could spend the night in the not-Rustbucket.

"You didn't tell Grandpa the truth about your bad dreams, did you?" he said gently. "Is that why you wanted to sleep here tonight?" He felt her head nod against his shoulder as she stopped humming. He squeezed his arms over hers to reassure he was only concerned, then turned in her arms to face her. He put his hands to her cheeks as he looked into her eyes, feeling the worry lines form on his forehead. His unspoken question hung in the air.

"It was nothing, Ben. I'm fine." Gwen said. He saw a flicker of distress in her eyes that was replaced by the warm look she only gave him. "Really!" she murmured.

If she looked away for even a half second he would have known for sure she wasn't, really. But the girl in his arms, their faces so close that they couldn't be anything but honest with each other, held his gaze without flinching. He could accept her answer, but gave her one last opening to talk if she wanted. "You're sure you're OK?"

"Yes, I am." she replied, with quiet confidence. "I have you now. That's all I need." She brought one hand up and traced the lines between his pinched eyebrows, the touch smoothing them out. "Are you?"

That was all he wanted to hear. For now, at least. Ben smiled at her. "Of course I am, Dweeb! How could I not be, like this? We're home, right?"

Gwen beamed back and hugged him close, moving her hand to the back of his head. "Yeah, we are Doofus!" she said gently, almost whispering into his ear.

Gwen moved her head back to look into his eyes again before leaning to him with a long, tender kiss. When she broke it off, she whispered in his ear again. "Thanks again for the music tonight. That was perfect!"

"Yeah, I was kinda awesome, wasn't I?" he replied in the same tone of voice and a trace of over-confidence.

Gwen lightly swatted the back of his head. "Always a doofus!" she said back, a happy twinkle in her eyes. "Come on, we better get in bed."

"Uh huh." Ben gave her one last quick kiss before letting go and hopping into his bunk. Gwen waited until he was under the covers before dimming the nightlight charm to a barely noticeable glow.

"Good night, Doofus!" she called softly. Her sheets rusted soft as she burrowed into them. "Sweet dreams!"

"Sleep good, Dweeb!" he replied in kind, settling back into his pillow.

He would much rather feel her snuggled next to him, knowing his presence could keep her nightmares away just like her's did for him. But Grandpa's caution stayed in his mind, and they knew they had to follow his rules, too. Instead, they fell asleep listening to each other's steady, calming breaths, like they did so many times over the past two years. Ben was confident the nightmares wouldn't come tonight anyway.

And they had each other if they did.

—

Saturday, November 26

Aboard the Sui Generis space shuttle

Retribution-02

5:37 PM Pacific Standard Time

"Targets have left the beach and are back in their mobile shelter, commander. They seem to have only been watching their star set for the day. Very peculiar - this happens every day. I don't understand why they waste time watching a physical certainty."

"They also indulged in a courtship ritual, did they not? This is part of human mating behavior. You'll see they spend a considerable amount of time in these seemingly unproductive actions. Knowing they do these things and how preoccupied and unobservant they become when they do, however, presents us with a number of tactical options for our plans for them." the senior replied.

"Take us back to the Retribution."

The shuttle pilot dutifully pointed the nose of the small runabout out to sea and up into the sky and increased their speed to escape velocity, un-noticed by sensors occupied with watching two almost teenagers on the trail above the beach.