How had everything gone so wrong in less than 24 hours?
James Possible knew that it had been going wrong for longer than that, so a better question was probably; why hadn't he seen it going wrong until less than 24 hours ago?
Everything seemed to be fine; his daughter was going to graduate with honors and had received offers from scores of colleges and universities. She was also dating a young man who he was actually quite fond of; and who had the utmost respect and affection for her. His sons had been skipped forward in their education and were thriving. Between being mascots and the evening science lab, they had found outlets for their excessive energy and desire to create. His family had been happy and the future had looked bright.
Now, an icy silence fell over them whenever his daughter was in line of sight of his boys. He honestly couldn't say what was worse; what had happened to the boys, the fact that they didn't see anything wrong with it or that they blamed their sister for it coming to an end.
Or that somehow, he was the one who had put them into the situation by approving of them attending the evening science labs.
He could have taken the easy route and said that his wife was as much to blame as he was, but that would be foolish, self-defeating and self-deceiving. He had welcomed the boys' finding an outlet that made him happy just as much as his wife had. It had been a mutual decision and he wasn't about to take false comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one to sign on to their activity. Instead, he concentrated on trying to find out what hint he had missed that things weren't what he had thought.
Try as he might, he hadn't been able to come up with anything. Instead, after the most awkward and tense meal the Possible Household had ever endured, he had chased his children off to bed and tried to get some sleep. Neither he nor Anne were able to turn off their minds and rest, so he decided that his tossing and turning wasn't helping her failing efforts any and stumbled off into his study. The answers were just as elusive there as they had been in the car back from the Police Department and in his bedroom. Stymied, he had done something that a lot of men...including himself...found difficult.
He asked for help.
Agent Smith had been good to his word; an email with contact information was waiting in James' inbox. Sometime after midnight but before dawn, the rocket scientist had managed to reply. He hadn't dared to put details in an email, so he had said that there was some difficulty in getting everyone to understand just how serious the crime had been. He had been expecting an answer sometime after eight, maybe seven at the earliest. Instead, less than half an hour after he sent his plea for help, he had received a response.
Agent Smith would be at their home at half-past eight in the morning. He would speak with everyone and then would accompany them to the Police Department for more in-depth interviews in the afternoon.
James had heaved a sigh of relief that someone had answered his call. Unfortunately, the rapid response meant that he was free to once again struggle to find out where he had failed as opposed to wonder when help would be forthcoming. He had never been one to have his mind simply go in circles, but it was on this long night. The paths it took were dark, paths he had never thought he would consider. Poking around on the internet didn't give him any answers; just more questions. It was with a mixture of dread and relief that he heard his wife give up on her efforts to sleep and simply start her morning routine.
A benefit of living in his house for as long as he had meant that he could tell who was moving about and where. He recognized Anne's tread, knew that she had left their bedroom and gone to the kitchen. He heard the clink and rustle of her starting the coffee maker and grabbing two cups. Then, he recognized her tread heading for the study. He had to smile despite the situation; she had figured out where he was just as easily as he had figured out where she was going. It wasn't any surprise when the study's door opened to admit her, holding two cups of coffee.
"No procedures today?" He asked. It was a rhetorical question; there was no way she would perform surgery after drinking coffee, or while being distraught. The question was actually expressing concern for her; something that she understood and appreciated.
"Just paperwork and consultations today, thank goodness," she answered. "I'm glad you could take the time off work."
This was, of course, her way of thanking him for his concern.
"Did you manage any sleep?" He asked her, accepting the steaming cup she offered.
"Maybe a few minutes," she sighed, then waited until he had a sip of his beverage and set his cup down. She set her own cup down and sat down across his lap. Again, it was something that he had expected.
His wife was an intelligent, decisive woman; but that didn't mean that she didn't like to be re-assured that he was fully behind her. This is what that gesture meant; her sitting across his lap and with her head tucked under his chin was their way of letting each other know that they were a single unit; a team. Whatever came up, they were going to deal with it together, even if they may disagree with each other at times.
"I keep wondering where I went wrong," he admitted to her.
"Me too," she agreed. "I can't come up with any way that we could have known that this Miss Allen was a predator."
"I came to that conclusion a couple of hours ago, myself," he sighed. "It's where I've failed as a father that bothers me."
"Failed?" She asked him.
"Remember when Kimmy-cub had that chip on her neck and was throwing herself at Ronald?" He asked her.
Anne merely chuckled a little into his chest; obviously she remembered.
"Well, after it shorted out, she was completely honest with us," he continued. "She told us all about the chip, how it had her kissing him in school and even how she intended for their date to end."
His wife merely nodded.
"She was sixteen at the time," he murmured. "But she was willing to come clean and tell us some very embarrassing details. On the other hand, the boys had to have known that what the teacher was doing with them was wrong, but they didn't tell us."
He felt her tense a little, and knew why.
"I want to be mad at them," he admitted. "I want to demand that they tell us why they didn't tell us what was happening; but I realize that's the blaming the victim thing that Officer Hobble warned me about."
"Did you tell your parents about us becoming intimate?" Anne asked him.
"No," he had to smile. "But there's a big difference there. It's not exactly a crime for a couple of mid-twenties, finishing up their doctorates and with jobs lined up, to take that step. I kind of assumed that our parents had decided it was our choice...which it was."
"But the boys?" She prompted.
"It has to be one of three things," he shrugged. "Either they didn't know it was wrong...and that scares me. If not that, they knew it was wrong but didn't care...and I don't know if that scares me more than if they didn't realize it was wrong. Or, the most frightening thing..."
"Which is?" She asked him, when he struggled to continue.
"They knew it was wrong but they were afraid to tell us."
"You're leaving something out on all three possibilities," she told him, after thinking it over for a bit.
"And that is?" He prompted her.
"That they didn't realize it was wrong...because they were being manipulated. That they knew it was wrong but didn't care...because they were being manipulated and finally..."
"They knew it was wrong but were afraid to tell us, because they were being manipulated," he finished, recognizing her pause as a prompt to him.
"There's a reason for statutory laws," she murmured. "And that reason is that adults can manipulate naive teens. There's a lot we don't know about this case and we're going to have to dig out the specifics, even if they're distasteful, before we can decide what we're going to do."
She sounded lost with that last phrase, as lost as he felt.
"I asked for help," he admitted. "I contacted Agent Smith. He'll be over this morning to talk to me, to all of us, about this. Maybe someone with more experience...and I'm assuming he has more experience, can give us another perspective."
"I'll look into mental health professionals while at work," his wife told him. "Maybe I should stay here this morning, at least."
"If you can, I'd appreciate it," he sighed. "I spent the whole night thinking in circles and wondering how this could happen. I'm sure that I would get lynched if some of what I thought would ever come out."
"What you would do to her, if you could?" His wife asked.
"A little of that," he admitted. "But more like this. Look."
His slight lean forward told her that the supportive snuggle time was over. She slid off of his lap and reclaimed her coffee as he pulled up the images he had downloaded the previous night.
"That's her, isn't it?" Anne asked him.
"Yeah," he nodded. "I got them from the school's site. She doesn't look like a monster, does she?"
"It would be so much easier if there was something about her that says 'keep your kids away from me'," his wife noted, something that James had thought several times in the past few hours.
"And that's where my really hideous thoughts come in," he admitted. "Thoughts that aren't really in line with the current, correct way of thinking."
"And they are?" Anne prompted him.
"She's no beauty queen," James pointed out. "But she's pretty. I keep asking myself, 'why does a pretty woman like that need to resort to thirteen year old boys for those kind of urges?'."
It was an ignorant statement and James knew it. There were aspects of human attraction and desire that he would never understand...and that he was pretty sure that the so-called experts in the field would never understand. It was also a very bad idea for a man to rate a woman's attractiveness in front of his wife; but James knew his wife and knew that she knew that such gut-level thoughts were unavoidable. In fact, she was probably having similar thoughts.
"If she was somehow ugly or deformed," Anne agreed with him. "I could say that she did what she did because she didn't have any other outlet. I know it's a terrible thought and untrue, but I can't help it. There's something more at play here than simple desire." She paused a moment. "Her expression doesn't help. If she had some sort of predatory leer, or sultry eyes, or smug arrogance it would somehow feel better. We could look at this and say that we should have suspected something."
"Or if she had radical tattoos, piercings or wildly colored hair," James took up the thought. "Something that just screams 'I'm trouble', or 'I'm looking for attention'."
"Instead, we see an attractive young woman, offering a smile to the camera," Anne replied. "And we read a caption that says how much she enjoys teaching science."
"Even with all that, why a couple of thirteen year old boys?" He asked, rhetorically. "I hate myself for saying this, but why our boys and not seventeen or eighteen year olds? Why not a sports hero, a bad boy or the sensitive artist? Why our sons?"
"I'm wondering if we should have agreed to the SKIP program," Anne said. "Intellectually and academically, the boys are more than ready for high school. Let's face it, they're ready for graduate school; but emotionally and socially? All of the boys are twice their size, all of the girls are more mature. One of the girls on the cheer team even got them to tell her embarrassing stories about Kim. How could we not realize how vulnerable they would be?"
"And how could we have not realized how this would have affected them in the future?" He agreed. "They're going to graduate high school at sixteen, what will that mean for them in college? We're going to have to get them out of the SKIP program and back into middle-school, with kids their own age."
The dark thoughts were interrupted by stirring from upstairs, and Anne recognized it as easily as he did. Kim was up and moving and would soon be downstairs and getting ready for breakfast. The boys would certainly be up shortly after and it wouldn't be a good idea to have the three children around each other without a parent to keep an eye on things. Again, he wondered how his family had found itself in this situation.
"Go ahead and clean up," Anne told him. "I'll get breakfast started and keep a lid on things until you get back down."
He nodded and reminded himself that whatever happened, he and his wife were a team that would do anything necessary for their children.
The morning routine helped a little. For a few minutes, he could try to put aside what was happening to his family and simply concentrate on getting ready for the day the same way he usually did. For a moment, he considered dressing casual but decided against it. His children were used to seeing him in a shirt and tie on week days, and they would again.
Even if he didn't know if the 'let's be normal' routine would be helpful or harmful.
There was dead silence at the breakfast table when he arrived.
"I've called the school and told them that the children won't be attending today," she informed him, in a tone that made it clear that the kids were expected to hear it, as well. "The police had already called and informed them of the same thing. I've also called Ronald, informed him that he shouldn't stop by and asked him to pick up everyone's assignments for today."
"Good thinking," he complimented her, while looking at the kids. The boys and Kim were studiously not paying any attention to each other. The tension was thick, brittle and he didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't really hungry, but he shoveled some food into his mouth, fueling the machine, much as Kim was doing. Anne left to get dressed and ready and he decided to keep quiet until she returned.
They were a team.
"Okay," he announced, when she returned to the kitchen. "Everyone is still upset and angry, we all know it. I'm not going to waste everyone's time with the family motto or say that everything will be okay. Instead, I'm going to say that at the end of the day, we're a family and we look out for each other. Now, we're going to have a visitor today and we're going to be giving reports. We're all going to answer all questions honestly and we're not going to throw judgment and false accusations at each other."
His three children all looked at him with defiance, but after a few moments they all nodded agreement.
"May we be excused?" Tim asked him.
"We'd like to go to our room until we're needed," Jim added.
"That's fine," he told them. "But no communicating with anyone outside of this house. No emails, texting, social media, the HAM radio under your bed you think I don't know about or anything else. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir," they both grumbled.
"Kimmy, I know that what they said last night hurt you?" His wife addressed their daughter, once the twins had left. "They're confused, scared and angry. It may not seem like it now, but they'll realize that you did the right thing."
"I'm so not used to this," she complained. "When I punch the bad guy, people usually thank me. I punched the bad guy this time and my own brothers are mad about it."
Any response James or his wife could have come up with was interrupted by the door bell. He checked his watch and realized that it was within minutes of the time that Agent Smith said that he'd be present. Offering his wife a short nod, he answered his door to find a man that he didn't recognize.
"Doctor Possible?" The man offered his hand.
"Why yes," James took his hand, reflexively.
"I'm Agent Smith," the man told him. "You requested assistance, so I'm here to evaluate the issue so that we can help you."
"Okay, I'm not understanding this," James admitted. "You're not Agent Smith!"
"Indeed I am, sir," the man...Agent Smith...contradicted him and pulled out an ID, which indicated that he was an agent of both the FBI and Global Justice.
"Oh, Agent Smith!" Kim, who had apparently followed him to the door, addressed the man. "Dad, this is Agent Smith, he works with Agent Smith."
"You've worked with both Agents Smith in the past?" He asked her.
"Only a few times," she told him. "But I'm wondering why Agent Smith isn't here, after he was was at the Police Station last night."
"Agent Smith is working on gathering evidence," Agent Smith told her. "He excels at that. I, on the other had, am better at dealing with the impact of crimes on the victims. Agent Smith told me that you said your boys don't seem to understand that what this teacher, Miss Allen, did was wrong?"
"Won't you come in?" James decided that this was best discussed in his home, not just outside this front door. He led the way to the living room.
"I don't know how to describe it...exactly," he explained, gesturing for Agent Smith to take a seat while he and his wife sat on the couch. "How familiar are you with this case?"
"Agent Smith briefed me," Agent Smith assured him. "Let me guess, the boys are more upset that this interaction has come to an end than that it took place at all."
"That's it, exactly," James sighed. "How do I go about explaining to them that it was wrong when..."
"They seem to have enjoyed it?" Agent Smith finished, when he hesitated. "Don't feel guilty about this, as humans, we are programmed to enjoy such contact when it isn't being forced upon us. That's why the world's population is closing in on 8 billion. Rather than tell them that they should have hated the whole experience, I would like to suggest some consequences that someone so young might not have thought about."
He paused, noting the family's skeptical expressions.
"With your permission, I would like to speak to the boys, with all of you present. I will say nothing but the truth and you will be here to monitor and stop me if you feel uncomfortable. "
"That sounds fair enough," James admitted. "I'll get the boys." Both his wife and his daughter nodded their agreement.
He went to the boys' room, knocked on it and told him that there was someone to see them. They were looking decidedly unenthusiastic as they trudged back to the living room.
"Boys," his wife did the introductions. "This is Agent Smith."
"But that's not Agent Smith!" Jim protested.
"Yeah," Tim added. "Agent Smith was at the police station last night!"
"Let's make this easy," Kim interrupted. "He is Agent Smith, just a different one. He works with the one we dealt with last night."
"Okay, but we can guess why he's here," Tim answered her.
"We don't have the right attitude about Miss Allen," Jim grumbled with obvious sarcasm. "So he's here to make us see things the way you want us to see them."
"And how do you think we want you to see them?" Agent Smith asked them.
"Like something terrible happened to us," Jim answered him. "But I don't see what was wrong with it."
"We were having fun and nobody was being hurt," Tim added. "In fact, nobody but the three of us would have even known about it if Kim hadn't shown up early last night."
"We understand her putting a stop to it," Jim said. "It's not right for teachers to be doing that with students."
"But why'd she have to hit Miss Allen so hard?" Tim asked. "She could be hurt, seriously."
"I know we're technically under age," Jim pointed out. "But we test well above most college students when it comes to academic aptitude."
"If a nineteen year old with only half our brains can do that, why can't we?" They concluded, together.
"That's an interesting point," Agent Smith noted. "But can I ask you something about your relationship with Miss Allen?"
"Um...okay?" They both answered, blushing a little.
"It's nothing intimate," the agent assured them. "But what if Miss Allen is pregnant?"
"What?" The boys asked.
"A simple question," Agent Smith told them. "You said that you were smarter than most college students, so you know that sex makes babies, don't you?"
"Of course," Tim said. "But she's not pregnant, is she?"
"Did you ever discuss contraception with her?" The man asked.
"Well...no..." Jim admitted. Both boys were blushing...and looking scared.
"We have no way of knowing, at least at this time, if she is or isn't," he informed them. "Do you realize that several states have mandatory child support up to nineteen years of age, even if the young man involved is under age at the time?"
Both boys shook their heads.
"Think of that," the agent said. "You'll be too young for the state to collect from until you're eighteen. After that, you could have another fourteen years of garnished wages, maintaining any child at the level at which he or she would enjoy if living with you. Since the two of you are identical twins, if it comes to it, it's impossible to tell which of you are the father, you'll both wind up paying."
The boys were clearly considering what such loss would mean to them; and not liking what they came up with.
"How about the possibility of disease?" Agent Smith asked. "It is very possible that you've been exposed to an STI, and it's had weeks to affect you without treatment. You're very young, so if you are, you're going to have to live with any permanent affects for a long time."
Again, the twins looked scared and thoughtful.
"I understand that the two of you are upset that your sister made this stop?" Agent Smith continued, prompting the boys to offer uncertain nods. "Well, did you really think that it would last forever? How do you think you were going to feel when she moved on?"
The twins glanced at each other, uncertain.
"Imagine what would have happened if you sister didn't find out about this, but Miss Allen started to date someone. Would you have been jealous?" He asked.
"I think we're getting the idea," Jim admitted.
"We should have thought this through," Tim added.
"Guys, I'm going to be completely honest with you," Agent Smith told them. "I have an agenda; I want you to come to the conclusion that this whole thing was wrong, and that it wasn't your fault. Let me make an example; I understand that the two of you not only fixed your sister's car, but you put in all sorts of features. Is that correct?"
"It was child's play for us," Tim answered.
"Like we said before, we're well above our typical age level when it comes to intelligence," Jim added.
"Let's forget about child labor laws for a moment," Agent Smith nodded. "Let's face it, the two of you could probably find jobs and make a comfortable living."
The twins nodded, looking quite pleased with themselves.
"So, can you tell the difference between an honest insurance salesman and a sleazy one?" The agent asked them. "If you were living on your own, you'd have to tell the difference. You have impressive computer and mechanical skills, but can you fix plumbing and structural damage to a house?"
The twins were back to looking uncertain.
"How about cooking for yourselves?" Agent Smith bored in. "Or purchasing and repairing proper clothing? How about preparing your taxes or signing a mortgage? Can you handle an aggressive neighbor or an angry boss?"
The twins were looking even more unsure of themselves.
"The point I'm trying to make is that there are complications to adult life that you haven't had to deal with," he informed them. "You haven't had to deal with backed-up toilets and keeping the lawn mowed. You haven't had to deal with the utility bill you forgot to pay or simultaneous meetings you need to be at. I'm hoping that the two of you have come to understand that the interactions you had with Miss Allen bring more complications, ones you aren't really ready to deal with."
Reluctantly, the twins nodded
"I'm not going to say that I'm out to 'cure' you," Agent Smith used finger quotes. "Rather, I want you to go into the counseling sessions your parents are going to arrange with an open mind. This wasn't just some harmless fun, it was a serious act that could have serious consequences. Can you do that?"
"Yeah," Jim sighed.
"We should have thought about it," Tim admitted.
"It wasn't your fault," Agent Smith insisted. "The only fault, if you can call it that, was not telling your parents when things became something other than what's normal between a teacher and her students. Now, you're about to head down to the station for more interviews. If there's a piece of advice I can offer you, it's to do your best to remember how this situation came to be."
He then turned to Kim. "Miss Possible, I am going to be your legal representation as well as an advisor for your brothers. Like I said earlier, I am better at this than Agent Smith. Agent Smith will be assisting the Middleton Police Department in investigating this crime. He's now off of this case as your legal representation, as this would be a conflict of interest."
He turned to the parents. "When you get to the station, I suggest that one of you stay with the boys during their interview while the other stays with Kim and myself. Rest assured that Agent Smith will be hard at work, continuing the investigation."
"Oh," Kim asked him. "What's next on his docket?"
"Collecting evidence at the school," the agent answered. "He's going to be meeting with someone named Mr. Steve Barkin."
A/N: Again, thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for beta reading.