The following morning
Saturday, January 14th, 2017
Safehouse F
Stephanie was the first to wake.
She ached from head to toe. Admittedly, that wasn't very far in her case, but it still hurt. Her bottom was very sore as that had taken the brunt of the impact with the street while her back was just as sore. She opened her eyes and looked around. The room was familiar . . . it was Dave's & Mindy's suite at the safehouse. Stephanie peeked under the duvet to find that she was naked apart from some white dressings. Beside her, Mindy was fast asleep, and just as naked apart from the same white dressings. Mindy's bruises looked bad and Stephanie assumed that her body was just as bad.
"Ow!" Mindy groaned as she awoke. "I feel like I just finished my fight with Frank D'Amico."
"You're bruised to fuck," Stephanie pointed out as she sat up – not easy with a bruised bottom.
Mindy looked across at her daughter, checking out her bare upper body.
"You can talk," Mindy retorted.
"I don't remember much about last night, but I think we got blasted off our motorcycles."
"Time to go shopping for some new wheels, I think," Mindy grimaced as she sat up and swung her legs out from under the duvet. "I need to pee."
"Me first!" Stephanie announced as she ran – painfully – for the bathroom with Mindy having to go all the way around the bed.
"Bitch!" Mindy growled as Stephanie sat down on the toilet and began to pee, an enormous satisfied grin on her face.
Mindy was forced to wait for her daughter to finish peeing, and while she did so, she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror and she winced at all the visible bruising on her body.
..._...
After they had both showered – another activity that had both of them wincing with pain – they dressed and headed through to the Training Centre Echo dining room.
"Hi, guys," Shannon welcomed. "How're you feeling?"
"Like a fish from a fish and chip shop," Stephanie replied.
"Huh?"
"Battered – Brit humour."
"Hi, honey," Dave said as he placed a large plate, piled high with food, down on a table. "Sit, both of you, and eat."
Stephanie frowned as Dave gave Mindy a kiss.
"This place is for eating food, not each other," Stephanie pointed out.
"Maybe you should inform Shannon and Marc," Dave chuckled.
Shannon and Marc sprang apart and went back to their breakfast.
"It is thoroughly disgusting behaviour," Annabelle grinned.
"You can talk," Shannon retorted. "I saw you with Cameron last night."
Annabelle opened and closed her mouth before returning to her part-eaten breakfast, her cheeks turning pink.
"You okay, Steph?" Jamie asked as he sat down with his own plate of food.
The boy was genuinely worried about his big sister and he had not slept well.
"I'm fine, Jamie," Stephanie replied between mouthfuls of bacon and sausages.
"I was worried."
"I've had much worse and my bruises always fade over time."
"Good."
The next afternoon
Sunday, January 15th
Chicago Executive Airport
"You sure you're up to this?" Willow asked.
Mindy grimaced.
"I'll be fine, now forget about me and concentrate on the task ahead of you. You read all the techs?"
"Yes, I've read them cover to cover."
Mindy unlocked a side door to the hanger before waving Willow inside and closing the door behind them both. Willow caught the sweet smell of turbine fuel and she felt herself drifting into another world. As they emerged into the main hanger, Willow could not stop herself from grinning. The hanger was empty but for one flying machine.
"So?" Mindy enquired.
"She's beautiful."
The $2.7-millon helicopter was small but fast and agile. It was less than two years old with only 220 hours on the clock. The exterior was painted in a dark blue overall with maroon and white accents. The registration code N545FM was painted onto the engine cowlings on each side. The aircraft was powered by a single Rolls-Royce 250-C30 turboshaft engine producing almost 700 shaft-horsepower.
Willow stepped forward and she pulled open the door to her side of the cockpit while Mindy headed over to the right side of the helicopter and pulled open the opposite door. The sixteen-year-old climbed into the cockpit and her eyes checked over everything – every dial, every screen, every control. While Mindy watched, slightly impatiently, Willow spent the next ninety minutes pre-flighting the helicopter. Mindy was impressed as Willow checked over the entire helicopter, checking every rivet and screw as she went. She moved onto the navigation lights, the fuel system, the pitot tubes and other external sensors, the skid shock absorbers, the oil system, the tail rotor, the vertical and horizontal stabilisers, the rotor head, and the turbine.
'Finally!' a relieved Mindy thought, Willow began her internal checks.
..._...
Once the checks were completed, the helicopter was moved outside the hanger to join the Gulfstream on the concrete.
Willow received clearance from the tower to start her engine and Mindy watched as Willow expertly went about the task of starting the helicopter.
"You ready?" Willow asked over the intercom once they had their headsets in place.
"Take me flying," Mindy replied nervously. "Kill me and I haunt you for all eternity."
Willow chuckled nervously as she took a final look around the aircraft to ensure that nobody was close by and released the rotor brake. She then flipped the key on the left side of the centre console and pushed in the red fuel valve. Then came the battery master switch, the generator switch, and the anti-collision lights switch. The instrumentation began to come to life as the digital screens booted up. Down to her left, Willow set the collective-mounted throttle to a low setting with her left hand before reaching over with her right to press and hold the starter button mounted on the tip of the collective. The turbine engine mounted behind them both at the rear of the helicopter began to click and whir loudly as the starting sequence was begun. As the N1 gauge indicated an increase to about twelve per cent, Willow increased the throttle slightly and released the start button. Above them, the rotor blades began to spin faster and faster as the turbine increased speed.
After a brief conversation with the tower, it was time to launch. With gentle combined movements of the throttle, collective, pedals, and cyclic, Willow lifted the helicopter three feet off the concrete and slowly moved forwards in level flight. With a gentle nudge of the pedals, the helicopter changed direction as it circled the hardstanding. Once Willow was comfortable with the machine, she twisted the throttle and pushed the cyclic forward while lifting the collective slightly. The light helicopter dipped at the nose and rapidly increased forward speed as it gained altitude. Mindy felt her body pressed into the seat as the airspeed increased and she grinned, enjoying the G-forces, despite the bruises all over her body.
"Nice and smooth, Willow," Mindy commented.
"Sorry, about that," Willow grinned as she increased airspeed and tipped the nose down further, accelerating the helicopter to 125-knots.
As soon as the skids had left the concrete, Willow had found herself in another world. All that she had suffered over the past six years simply faded away as she felt the thrill of being airborne and in full control of the flying machine. Willow executed a few tight turns and a negative-G dive before swopping back up to altitude and slowing back to a 100-knot cruise.
"Fucking Predators!" Mindy growled over the intercom.
..._...
Willow did not want the flight to end, but she knew that, ultimately, she was limited by the fuel carried in the tank.
"Mindy, thank you for this."
"You're welcome, Willow."
"How often will I fly?"
"As often as you want – I would suggest once a week . . . twice a month at a minimum. I want your skills to be top notch before we send you to Scotland for your combat training. You will also brush up your skills on fixed-wing aircraft. School comes first, though."
"That's cool; I can live with that."
As they turned back towards the airfield, Willow received a radio call from the tower."
"Four-Five-Foxtrot-Mike, you have fast moving traffic at your seven o'clock, hold course and increase to one-three-zero knots."
"Four-Five-Foxtrot-Mike, acknowledged," Willow responded before twisting the throttle and increasing speed and looking out the left side of the cockpit.
The fast-moving traffic was closing at the same altitude and slowing to take station to port. Willow did not readily recognise the Hawker Hunter T.7 as the jet fighter took station forty yards from the helicopter with a significant nose up attitude. Willow could see the flaps deployed and the landing gear coming down as the aircraft cruised along a few knots above its stall speed. The pilot in the right seat waved at Willow who waved back briefly. Strangely, Mindy didn't say anything as the Hunter accelerated forwards, raising flaps and landing gear as the pilot dropped the nose to gather speed and lift.
Willow listened to the radio calls as the sleek jet entered the landing pattern and the pilot brought the fifty-year-old aircraft down smoothly onto the main runway before taxiing off. Then it was Willow's turn and she demonstrated her expertise by bringing the helicopter onto a designated pad before hover-taxiing back to their hanger. Strangely, Willow noticed that the silver fighter jet was parked beside the Gulfstream outside their hanger. Ignoring the irrelevance, Willow brought the McDonnell Douglas Helicopters MD 530F to a perfect hover and then she allowed the skids to kiss the concrete and for the weight of the machine settle onto the quad shock absorbers. It took less than a minute to shutdown the turbine and for the rotor blades to begin to slow.
Once the blades had slowed to a complete stop and the rotor brake was engaged, Willow took off the headset and she grinned at Mindy.
..._...
As they exited the helicopter, Willow noticed the crew of the jet climbing down from the cockpit.
One was a man and the other a young woman, the man towering over the female. They both removed their flight helmets with attached oxygen masks and walked towards Mindy and Willow. They were both wearing G-suits over their flight suits which Willow thought was cool – she would do anything to get into a fast jet.
"What is that magnificent machine?" Willow asked, unable to help herself.
"Hawker Hunter T.7 – a British fighter jet trainer," the man explained.
"Yours?"
"Yes – Colonel Reginald Anderson United States Air Force, Retired . . . but you can call me Reg."
"Willow Harrison."
"This is my daughter, Arya. I'm teaching her to fly."
"Thanks for meeting us, Reg," Mindy said.
Willow scowled.
"You been holding out on me, Mindy?"
"I arranged this meet," Mindy admitted. "Reg is working on a project of mine. In fact, when I told him about you, he offered to cover the jet side of your training."
Willow grinned excitedly.
"This is only my eighth flight," Arya commented. "But damn if isn't awesome."
"I'm sure she had an orgasm the first time we flew," Reg commented much to his daughter's annoyance. "If you'll excuse us, we need to get changed before we head home."
"We'll see you Tuesday night?" Mindy queried.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mindy."
Willow had no idea what they were talking about.
"See ya, Willow," Arya said.
The young woman was about eighteen-years-old, Willow presumed.
"Looking forward to it," Willow replied.
That evening
North Lakewood Avenue
"What the fuck is that!?"
Kendra turned to see her big sister standing at the door to her bedroom. The ten-year-old had just showered and she was busy towelling herself dry.
"Huh?"
"Kendra, you have fucking scars on your body – I had no idea!" Willow exclaimed.
"Oh, yeah – I picked up a few while I was a Yellow," Kendra replied offhandedly.
Willow knew that Yellow's were abused, mentally, verbally, and physically . . . she had abused plenty in her time as a Predator, too. However, Kendra was her little sister and Willow was not pleased to see that the youngster had suffered. Willow proceeded to check out her sister from head to toe.
"What's with your butt – did you get the strap?"
Kendra winced and nodded.
"Why?"
"It was revenge for something I did."
"You mean it was a Predator who did that to you?" Willow demanded angrily.
Kendra nodded.
"What else did they do to you?"
"She broke two of my fingers . . . left hand. She broke a rib on my left side, and she threatened to kill me if I didn't turn informer for her."
"Her? It was a female? Phase 3?"
"It was a Phase 2 girl – I don't remember her name."
"You ever see her, Kendra, you tell me."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to return the favour," Willow replied darkly.
"Don't – it's in the past, Willow."
"I'll see when we meet this bitch," Willow growled. "Get into your pyjamas."
Willow left her sister to dress and she headed through to the living room where she sat down on the couch. Someone had dared to hurt her little sister. Someone had made her little sister suffer impossible pain. It was a miracle that Kendra had not simply been 'disposed of' by the instructors. Maybe there was more that Willow was not aware of concerning her sister's time as a Yellow. After a few minutes thought, Willow dug out her cell phone and she called a friend.
"Hello, Willow, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Stephanie, I need a favour."
"No pleasantries, I see . . . you sound pissed, actually."
"I want my sister's Urban Predator file."
"There's limited info on Yellows, but I'll see what I can do. Is there a problem?"
"I just want to know what she went through – I learned tonight that she was tortured by a Predator."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Willow . . . really, I am . . . but you know how they were treated by us and the instructors."
"I've treated them badly, but I've seen the scars and . . . I want somebody to pay."
"You need to hear the other side of the story, Willow."
"Fuck! She's my sister!"
"I know how you feel, Willow, believe me – I still want to hurt those who hurt my brother. I'll see if we have Kendra's file."
"Thank you, Stephanie."
"Hang in there, Willow."
Willow was still seething when Kendra appeared in her pyjamas.
"There is no justification for someone hurting you like that – it's not like you hurt them, was it?"
"I made them suffer a bit, yeah."
"Let's leave that for the moment, okay?"
"Yeah."
"You want to help me with these tech guides?"
"What's it for?"
"An AGM-114 Hellfire ground attack missile."
"Cool!"
The next day
Monday, January 16th
D-JAK: Prime
As was usual, once the kids had vanished to school, Mindy pulled on her motorcycle leathers and helmet before mounting her white BMW R 1200 GS Adventure.
Dave waved goodbye to his wife as she rode off, her rear tyre chirping on the blacktop. He had some simple errands to run before he joined her at D-JAK. He climbed into his Audi RS5 and soon followed along in his wife's wake for just a few miles before turning off towards the coast. Mindy continued on into the city, making for her office at D-JAK: Prime. After parking the motorcycle in her reserved parking bay, Mindy pulled off her helmet and dismounted, her eyes scanned everything and everything. Every movement. Every sound. Mindy never took chances; her father's training was embedded too deeply for that. Mindy expected danger - it was just the way that she was wired – and she subconsciously searched for it everywhere she went. The only time Mindy was ever one hundred per cent focused on anything, was when she was naked with her husband in bed. She always felt safe when Dave was around, not to mention that his ministrations pretty much debilitated her to the point where she could be put down by a two-year-old.
After unlocking the back door into D-JAK, Mindy disabled the interior sensors, leaving the alarms in the doors and windows enabled. She made directly for her office in the back, grabbing an energy drink from the fridge beside her desk. The next ninety minutes were spent delving through the paperwork that went along with running a successful cover business. Mindy was not about to go down like Al Capone – her accounts, taxes, and paperwork were up to date . . . but not perfect; perfect meant something dodgy was going on. Once Mindy was satisfied that everything was just as she liked it, she stepped out of her office and stopped dead. She could hear voices.
"Mindy?"
Mindy's tensed up shoulder's slumped – it was Paige. Mindy grinned at Kim and Dave as they crossed the large mat in the centre of D-JAK.
"Did we frighten you?" Dave grinned.
"Funny!" Mindy growled as she gave her husband a kiss.
"Don't mind me," Kim commented as she made for the kitchen to fire up the coffee machine.
"We're heading downstairs," Mindy said as she and Dave made for the entrance to Safehouse Zulu.
Kim had work to do, preparing the Dojang for that evening's classes.
That same time
Northwestern Memorial Hospital
"I'm scared."
"Don't be," Paige said to Megan.
As they entered the office of Doctor Jennifer Staite M.D. they found Jen smiling warmly. Paige pushed Megan forward as she shut the office door behind them.
"Sit!" Paige said, forcing Megan into a chair set before Jen's desk before sitting down herself.
"You appear troubled, Megan. Is there a problem?" Jen asked.
"Is this going to hurt much?"
"Very little. First, I am going to examine you, then I will show you the procedure and explain about side-affects and what the implant does. Okay?"
"I think so," Megan responded somewhat dubiously.
..._...
Ten minutes later, Megan was sitting in just her panties being prodded and poked.
Once the standard health checks were over, Megan grimaced as Jen indicated that she should remove her panties and lie back on the bed. Jen provided the girl with a hospital gown to protect her modesty. Megan hated it – it was an alien environment and she had become very particular and self-conscious about who saw her naked ever since the all-too-public strip search and then the 'event' in Gotham. Her Mom had made it very clear that she was to receive some form of protection or so help her God, she would find a chastity belt or have one made. Megan had not liked that suggestion – at all! Therefore, she laid back and allowed Jen's gloved fingers to enter more personal places.
After a few minutes of sometimes painful prodding, Jen pulled off her gloves with an audible snap and she dropped them into a bin.
"Okay, make yourself decent, Megan – Curtis isn't popping in."
Megan felt her face heating up as her mother laughed. Very quickly, she pulled up her panties and then her trousers before pulling on her top. It felt good to be dressed and she refused to raise to Jen's bait.
"You're perfectly healthy in the vagina department, Megan. . ."
Megan cringed at the open talk about her most private place.
"I'm not surprised Curtis and his critters enjoy their time in there."
Paige laughed out loud, unable to contain herself as Megan squirmed uncomfortably.
"Now, we are going to insert what is called a birth control implant into the underside of your upper left arm. It is a tiny, thin rod about the size of a matchstick – see?"
Megan studied the small white 'matchstick' which sat on a piece of sterile cloth on Jen's desk.
"It's small."
"Yes, it is. Without going into the icky facts, it releases a drug into your system which prevents sperm from entering your cervix and potentially meeting an egg. The drug can also prevent eggs from being released in the first place – no eggs, no kiddies!"
Megan frowned at the overt reference to bits of her reproduction system.
"The implant can last for three to five years and once removed, you can pregnant almost instantly. However, this only prevents the sperm from finding an egg, it doesn't protect you from any sexually transmitted diseases, so condoms should still be used – no bareback, understand?"
Megan was several steps beyond embarrassed, but she did not feel humiliated. Jen was very careful with her comments, keeping them in check. However, it was borderline. Megan simply nodded her acceptance.
"Now, your last period was two weeks ago?"
"Yes."
"For the first week – NO SEX! After that, you can fuck like bunny rabbits," Jen directed as Paige roared with laughter.
Megan simply wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
..._...
Megan laid down on the bed, on her back, her left arm outstretched to the side.
Megan's right hand gripped her mother's hand tightly as Jen wiped down the underside of Megan's left arm with a sterile wipe. Paige smiled supportively as Megan looked away and up at her mother. Megan winced as Jen used a small needle and syringe to numb the area just cleansed. After waiting two minutes for the local anaesthetic to take effect, Jen placed a small plastic device onto Megan's skin, inline with her arm. Then, after a quick movement of a slide on the device, Jen removed said device and smiled down at Megan, placing a small piece of gauze over the wound to mop up the blood.
"All done!" Jen said, placing a small sticking plaster over the wound. "Once the anaesthetic wears off, you will feel some discomfort, but I'm sure you can handle that."
Megan smiled as she looked at her arm. She could just make out the rod beneath her skin.
"Thanks, Jen."
"Anytime, Megan," Jen replied. "Just remember, keep your legs closed for one week – concentrate on some oral sex, I would suggest."
"Get me out of here!" Megan growled as she bolted for the door.
"Thanks, Jen," Paige chuckled, trying her best to contain her laughter for her daughter's sake.
Jen nodded back as Paige headed after Megan who was not happy, it seemed.
"It is not funny, Mom! Not funny in the slightest!"
Jen laughed as she heard laughter erupting from the corridor outside her office as Paige gave up all pretence and burst out laughing.
"Oh, grow up, Mother!"
Safehouse Zulu
Mindy descended into depths of her bolthole making for her office.
Once in the conference room which she had taken over as her office, she settled down to her covert nighttime job while Kim looked after Mindy's overt daytime job. There was a lot of work and Mindy needed to ensure that they did not run out of necessities, such as bullets and gas. There was also the new intake to procure combat suits for and weapons to source. Mindy needed to select weapons for the new intake as well as replace those weapons which her eldest daughter had purloined. In the words of her daughter's country of birth, she was a little tealeaf! Of course, Abigail wasn't a lot of help as Stephanie simply ignored her friend's conscience. Mindy could not blame Stephanie as such, being Hit Girl's daughter did have some privileges, of course, and that simply meant that Mindy let her daughter live.
Mindy was so deep in thought that she never noticed someone slipping through her open door. Mindy never noticed as the person crept up close. Mindy never noticed until she felt an arm wrap itself around her neck and squeeze. Mindy screamed out as she jumped violently. She tried to turn, but she was pinned to her chair as a hand reached over and gently squeezed her right breast through her clothing.
"Dave. . ." Mindy groaned.
Her man was getting too damn good, she decided . . . but those hands . . . she felt heat flushing through her body and blood rushing to her nipples which Dave was tweaking none too gently. Mindy's back arched as Dave continued tweaking and he grinned as his wife scrunched her eyes closed, fighting as amazing sensations rocketed throughout her body. Then Mindy groaned, openly wanting more, unable to live a minute longer without his manly hands on places as yet untouched. Places which were hot, and wet . . . and getting hotter and wetter by the second.
Dave gave up torturing his wife as he pushed a hand down her pants and worked his fingers under the soft cotton of her panties. There was wet and there was wet. Dave was more than a little concerned that his woman was about to fall off her chair, so he swiftly pulled his hand away from Mindy's red-hot vulva and he scooped Mindy up into his arms. Mindy groaned as the wonderful fingers were removed and she felt abandoned. Then she was dumped onto the floor in the operations area and she felt those hands vanishing under her clothing, once again. Mindy's eyes had never opened, and they remained scrunched shut as she absorbed every sensual touch of her husband's fingers. She never noticed Dave removing any items of clothing which obstructed his hands, not that she cared as she felt her hand fumbling for something she so desperately needed. Hah! Mindy pulled at the belt on Dave's jeans and then the button . . . the zip was simple as she felt just a simple layer of cotton between the skin of her hand and the raging, hard. . .
Dave let out a moan of pleasure as he felt fingers wrapping around the only part of his body which was still standing. Mindy's own moans of absolute pleasure quickly drowned out Dave's efforts as she writhed to his touch. It did not take long for Mindy to find her body locking up in preparation for an atomic detonation deep within her groin. Dave himself was not too far off an imitation of Mount Vesuvius in AD 79. Mindy's breathing was out of control and she began to gulp air down into her lungs as the sensations threatened to tear her apart. Then it hit like an earthquake reaching a 10.0 on the Richter Scale as a meteoric orgasm like she had never felt before tore through her body like an expanding Dum Dum slug tearing through the body of some criminal cunt. As for her cunt, it was on fire. Her loins could have burnt down the safehouse should they have come in contact with something flammable.
Mindy's right hand burnt too, but from the hot liquid erupting from her man in a virtual torrent which flew through the air and splatted down across Mindy's chest. Dave was very glad that Mindy had released him as her fists were clenched while she rode out the tremendous atomic forces which threatened to tear her fiery loins apart. Finally, panting like a dog on heat, Mindy collapsed into a foetal heap. Dave too rolled onto his side, a hand resting on the super-heated skin of his wife.
They must have laid there for twenty minutes before they managed to regain their senses. Dave was first to struggle to his feet, pulling up his underwear and trousers. Mindy struggled to sit up, let alone clamber to her knees. As she gazed longingly at her husband's groin, she considered a little bit of fellatio, but the slimy substance currently congealing on her breasts changed her mind. Nevertheless, she grasped Dave's outstretched hand and clambered to her feet, looking down her otherwise naked body.
"That was fun," Mindy commented with a grin.
"Yes, it. . .," Dave began before stopping.
Mindy turned around.
"What's up, Dave?"
Then Mindy froze as she saw that standing over by the entrance to the operations area were Paige and Megan. Paige was grinning broadly while Megan was open-mouthed and looked horrified. It took a few moments for Mindy to realise that she was standing before the pair stark naked and with semen readily visible on her breasts. Without a word, Mindy scrambled to collect her clothing and she vanished into the conference room slamming the door behind her.
"We thought we heard screaming," Paige said somewhat lamely.
"Oh, there was screaming," Dave replied. "Lots of screaming."
Megan was still standing there, her mouth hanging open. Mindy reappeared, fully dressed, her cheeks bright red. She smiled at Paige before reaching out and closing Megan's mouth.
"Do close your mouth, Megan, Curtis isn't here," Mindy commented as she headed out of the operations area.
Dave simply shrugged as he followed his wife.
..._...
Twenty minutes later, Paige found Mindy in the kitchen, sipping a coffee.
Mindy looked very uncomfortable as Megan followed her mother into the kitchen, scowling at Mindy.
"Sorry," Mindy mumbled.
"So, you have sex – big deal," Paige responded. "Five times a week for me . . . sometimes six or seven."
"Ewww!" Mindy and Megan announced together.
Paige grinned, pleased to have broken the ice and eased Mindy's concerns.
"You're too old to be doing . . . things," Megan commented.
"Megan," Paige responded. "I'm thirty-four and I have many, many more years of carnal enjoyment ahead of me."
"Please," Mindy begged. "No more references to Marcus . . . ewww!"
"It's not right!" Megan growled.
"So, you can fuck Curtis till his eyes bug out, but I'm supposed to cross my legs and pretend I'm a nun?" Paige bristled.
Megan decided that she might have pushed things a little too far. Seeing Mindy stark naked with boy juice . . . ewww! Not to mention that her own mother was talking about sex like it was just a normal conversation. Megan shuddered at the thought of what she had witnessed and heard.
"I may be Hit Girl, but I also have needs," Mindy pointed out to the horrified twelve-year-old. "Just like you do, Wildcat."
Paige grinned fiendishly as she grabbed a coffee and she stepped towards the kitchen door.
"Lynx has needs too . . . and she can be a very bad kitty!"
Mindy and Megan stood there, mouths hanging open and with looks of pure disgust on their faces.
That afternoon
Glenview
"Mother!"
"You called, dear daughter!"
Stephanie glared up at Mindy.
"Could we talk in private, please?" Stephanie growled as she pushed Mindy towards Mindy and Dave's suite.
"Is there a problem?" Mindy asked once the door was shut and Stephanie had dropped her school bag onto the bed.
"I had a creepy phone call from Megan where she told me that you were naked at the safehouse with . . . stuff on you."
Mindy chuckled as Stephanie's cheeks went a little pink.
"Dave and I were having a little fun," Mindy offered.
"But you're. . ."
"Old? How old are you, Steph?"
"Ten."
"How old will you be in three two months or so?"
"Eleven."
"I'm only nineteen, Steph. There's only eight years between us. I'm still young and there are things in life which I enjoy. I'm sure that, in time, you will enjoy the touch of a boy."
"I suppose," Stephanie reasoned, knowing that she did enjoy Tommy's hands – on certain parts at least.
Mindy was a little surprised by Stephanie's very mature response.
"For a ten-year-old, you have a mental maturity way beyond your years, Steph."
"Megan said that she was a little freaked out about seeing you in the buff with 'boy juice', as she called it, on your boobs."
"Things got a little out of hand," Mindy grinned. "I'll let you in on a special secret, Steph . . . there are times when you start something, and you just cannot stop until you've enjoyed every damn sensation on offer. That's sex, sweetie. I may be the fantastic, invincible Hit Girl, but damn if Dave can't cripple me and turn me into a shuddering amoeba."
"Mum?"
"Yeah?"
"There are some secrets which are not suitable for mother/daughter exchanges," Stephanie pointed out. "FYI – that is one of them."
"Point taken," Mindy admitted with a sly grin.
"But thanks for trusting me enough to tell me something which must be very personal to you."
"I trust you more than anything, Stephanie – you are my daughter, and other than Chloe, you are the closest female I have to talk to."
Stephanie opened her mouth to say something but then thought better of it and closed her mouth. She had never had anyone say something so meaningful to her and she struggled to process the information. Unable to think of anything to say, she simply hugged Mindy tightly. After a few more minutes, mother and daughter got up and left the suite.
"You two been up to something?" Anne-Marie asked with an evil grin.
Neither Mindy nor Stephanie said a word, but as they walked past Anne-Marie, each slapped the little girl on the back of the head. The little girl scowled for a moment before she grinned broadly as she ran after her big sister. Dave studied Stephanie and Mindy as they stepped into the kitchen. They were so alike in their mannerisms, it was uncanny. Not that Dave minded. Even little Anne-Marie was a chip off the Hit Girl block. Fearless and loyal, despite having a big mouth which, more often then not, got her into trouble. As for her twin brother, Danny, he was mature beyond his years and tended to look down on his sister's antics with derision – not that he was not up for some bad behaviour.
Danny and Jamie made a perfect team when it came to winding up their sisters. Dave and Mindy were both amazed by how well the two boys from so very different backgrounds got on. Maybe it was simply that they had a single united task – that of ganging up on anything female. They had to offer up a united defensive front against Stephanie and Anne-Marie who could also be a formidable pair. Despite their antics and play fighting (not always 'play') they all loved one another and would go overboard to protect any one of their siblings. The Lizewski clan was united as a family, both in the real world and in the dark world of the vigilante. Both boys looked up to Stephanie as their elder sibling and they sought her vastly broader experience when it came to their vigilante life.
Jamie was very proud of his big sister. Though they had been apart for many years, they had bonded almost immediately as if the had never been apart. Even within Fusion, Stephanie was a figurehead – and not just within the shores of the Fifty States. Stephanie was also a figurehead, three thousand miles away on the far side of the Atlantic Ocean. Within Europe, Stephanie was looked up to by many in Scotland, as well by some in France. Jamie actually found it rather creepy that his big sister was almost worshipped by some. However, he was also impressed by his sister's refusal to let it go to her head – sort of.
Yes, Stephanie had an ego, but she controlled it.
West Columbia Avenue
Marcus was home early, for once, and he was enjoying a well-earned (in his mind) beer and a bag of pretzels.
As he relaxed in his favourite chair, his former partner's namesake sat in his own chair, babbling away intelligibly. Damon, at seven-months, loved his high-chair and enjoyed throwing whatever was on his tray – usually at Megan. Every few minutes, Damon would shout at Marcus for attention. Marcus enjoyed talking with his son – Damon was a good listener and the boy would listen to his father telling him about his day before jabbering back about his own. Marcus figured that Damon's day sounded much more exciting than his own. Just then, Marcus' peace was broken as his daughter stepped into the living room along with his wife. Marcus noticed that his twelve-year-old step-daughter did not appear amused while Paige was grinning broadly.
"What's up, Megan?" Marcus asked, dreading the response.
"Mother is being disgusting and my sister is not exactly helping things," Megan pouted.
Marcus chuckled, wondering what his wayward elder daughter had been getting up to, his mind boggling at the potential options: buying some new and expensive weapon, invading the territory of a foreign sovereign nation, overdoing her obnoxious quota – with Mindy, anything was possible!
"We walked in on Mindy – she was naked in the safehouse," Megan explained, ignoring Marcus' cringing. "Then Mother . . . eww!"
"I just explained to Mindy and Megan that Lynx enjoys a little fun in the sack and that Lynx can be a very bad kitty . . . isn't that right, Marcus?" Paige grinned.
Marcus chuckled loudly enough that Damon began shouting at Megan.
"Why do you think I keep handcuffs in the bedroom," Marcus responded.
"I did not just hear that . . . ewww! That has to be child abuse of the very worst kind – hearing your parents talking about . . . ewww!" Megan exclaimed loudly over Damon's shouts.
"Megan, honey," Marcus began. "Only normal children suffer child abuse. Ever since you first met Mindy, you changed into something very different."
Megan just shrugged.
"Now, why don't you go show Curtis your new acquisition," Marcus suggested.
Megan took two steps towards the stairs before freezing and then turning to Marcus.
"You know?"
Marcus rolled his eyes and laughed.
"Number one: I'm a cop. Number two: I learned to be a cop from Big Daddy who created Hit Girl. Number three: my eldest daughter is Hit Girl. Number four: my youngest daughter is Wildcat. Number five: my youngest daughter screams during coitus – just like her mother."
Megan shuddered as she cringed, horrified by the conversation's sudden twist.
"You alright with it?" Megan ventured.
"Honey, I trust you," Marcus said. "Besides, you get pregnant, I shoot Curtis."
..._...
Fifteen seconds later, Megan slammed the door to the bedroom which she and Curtis shared.
"Hi," Curtis said from his bed where he sat doing his homework.
"Hi."
"Problem?" Curtis asked as Megan dumped her bag before slumping onto the bed.
"I saw Mindy naked, this afternoon, after Jen stuck this thingy in my arm – see?"
"Neat," Curtis admitted as he checked out the little rod in the underside of his girlfriend's left upper arm.
As Curtis watched his girlfriend strip out of her school uniform, he considered her cryptic remark about Mindy. He had no idea what was truth and what was just Megan's vivid imagination.
"It has been a day of constant humiliation and embarrassment," Megan admitted. "First, Jen and Mom kept making crude comments, then Mom and I walk in on a very naked Mindy – however, Mindy was sporting cum on her boobs; I liked that look . . . how about we try that tonight?"
"I'll help where I can," Curtis confirmed.
"Well, we can't have sex sex until I've had this thing in for five days or so, so we'll have to try something else. Oh, by the way, Marcus knows. He seems okay with you and me, you know . . . but he says he'll shoot you if I get pregnant."
Curtis scowled at that last bit.