Life Goes On

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Life Goes On Page 19

by Michael Anderle


  Michael stood up and went to the door, and Tabitha rose and walked behind him. “Thank you, Michael,” she said. “I’m sorry I went to pieces on you like this when you just got back.”

  “You are welcome.” He gave her a one-armed hug. “Your reception was infinitely less complicated—and painful—than Bethany Anne’s.”

  “Did she kiss the booboos and make them better?” Tabitha asked, flashing a grin at the man.

  Bethany Anne grabbed Michael’s arm and pulled him out of the suite. “No kissing booboos and telling,” she chided, and looked at Tabitha, “or I’ll get Peter to fess up.”

  “Why not?” Tabitha smiled at her friend. “I bet he could spin a great tale.”

  Bethany Anne pressed her lips together, then cracked a small grin as she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of course you wouldn’t mind your sexual exploits spoken about.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to have a video out there,” Tabitha told her, “but if I could make that big hunk of manliciousness brag?” She winked at Bethany Anne. “That would make me happy!”

  Both women noticed that Michael was looking down the passageway. “I think I hear someone who needs me,” he murmured.

  Bethany Anne waved at Tabitha. “I’ll let you go before I have Superman here trying to leave me because he’s embarrassed.”

  Tabitha told them both goodbye, and slowly closed the door after she watched them walk away holding hands. She caught sight of Scott a dozen feet down the passageway before the door shut.

  She inhaled deeply, and let her emotions out with the air as she slowly exhaled.

  Her father was back, and he still loved her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  QBS ArchAngel II

  Bethany Anne enjoyed the slow progression down the passageway with Michael, whose eyes darted everywhere and catalogued everything he was seeing on the ship. “Tell me about your cat,” she requested.

  “Demon?” Michael turned to her, a smile playing on his face.

  She eyed him. “That’s its name, ‘Demon?’”

  Michael thought a moment. “Well, technically she isn’t sure she wants that name, and her intelligence isn’t too high yet.”

  “Yet?” Bethany Anne asked. “Did you Pod-doc her or something?”

  “Nanocyte research,” Michael answered as the two continued down the corridor. He was aware of the way Scott would discreetly let people know to give Bethany Anne some space as the two of them walked amongst everyone using the passageways. He randomly read a couple of minds, and realized it was helpful to the crew to see who the new man in Bethany Anne’s life was.

  And the two he read had been pleasantly surprised.

  He grunted.

  Bethany Anne’s voice caught his attention. “You aren’t listening,” she said, although her comment wasn’t an accusation. “What’s on your mind?”

  He looked straight ahead, speaking softly. “I realized that everyone wants to know about me, so we are walking the halls to let them see me.”

  Bethany Anne looked around. “Noooo,” she whispered. “That wasn’t my intent.”

  “Oh, perhaps not your intent, but it is a good thing anyway,” he replied quietly. “The funny part is, I think we are going to have a new fashion evolution.”

  “To what?” she asked, looking him up and down as they continued walking. “Your scruffy beard or your coat?” She pursed her lips. “Personally I vote for the scruffy beard.”

  “Neither.” He pointed to his head. “My hat.” He squeezed her hand. “When people see me they are satisfied that I’m a handsome man who seems capable enough for their Queen, and then they notice how good the hat looks on my head.”

  She followed his finger. “Why do you still have a cowboy hat?” Bethany Anne asked, looking at it, perplexed.

  Michael didn’t answer, and Bethany Anne just walked beside him, content in the moment. “Well, I told you when I came out of the Etheric I was follically challenged,” he finally admitted. “I like it, now.”

  “Sorry!” She put her hand on his arm looking up to view his short hair again. “I’ll leave that for now.”

  It went unsaid that she would bring it back up later, however. “Demon?” she asked, changing the topic.

  He nodded. “Happened in a battle not too long ago. Akio and I were tracking down some annoyances—”

  “’Annoyances’ being a slang term for…” she left the question hanging.

  “People doing bad stuff who needed to die,” he replied, then mentally slapped the shit out of himself. He had been working hard to be less of a “kill-them-all-and-let-God-sort-them-out” kind of guy, but lately his life had focused on killing as the only viable answer.

  Bethany Anne had been trying to reduce that aspect of him the last time he was with her.

  “Huh,” she replied. “And how does that tie in to Demon?”

  Michael glanced down at Bethany Anne, who was smiling at someone they were passing. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the kill-them-all aspect whatsoever.

  What had happened in the last hundred and fifty years?

  “Demon was being used in nanocyte experiments—rather crude ones. When the two of us got there, we engaged in a rather large firefight. I wasn’t terribly happy that the subjects didn’t have a choice. They had no protection, so I hit the override to their cages.”

  “How did that work out?” she asked him.

  “Poorly, since I didn’t realize they were using snakes as well.” He paused for a moment. “I really hate snakes,” he admitted. “Indiana Jones and I have that in common.”

  The two of them turned a corner and continued toward the bridge. “So will Demon go into the Pod-doc?”

  “This ship is damned large,” Michael muttered. “Where are we? Are we still in the same solar system?” He looked over his shoulder, then back to the front, then left and right as they passed a cross hallway.

  “Michael!” She squeezed his hand sharply twice. “Focus a bit for me, will you?”

  “I’m focused,” he responded. “I’d like Demon to go into the Pod-doc, if for nothing else than to make sure the other nanocytes aren’t messing with her. Plus, if she could communicate better, I’d like that.”

  “Why?”

  Michael smiled. “So I don’t have to guess what the hell she wants sometimes. It’s damned exasperating.” He heard fighting down a cross hallway and before Bethany Anne knew what was going on, he had pulled her sharply toward the noise.

  “Scott!” she called.

  Scott spun and saw a flash of Bethany Anne’s smile and then her legs as they disappeared around a corner, and he immediately started jogging after them. When he rounded the corner, Michael was striding with purpose toward the Guardians’ workout areas.

  “Hurry!” Bethany Anne smiled at Scott. “Don’t be late!”

  QBS ArchAngel II, Bethany Anne’s Suite

  Michael stretched, he felt a bone pop back into place. The short workout with the normal Guardians had helped take a bit of the edge off. They were good people. Michael ran his fingers through his hair. It might finally getting long enough that he was going to seek a barber in a couple of weeks.

  Thank God!

  “Michael?” Bethany Anne called. He slipped on a black shirt she had found for him somewhere. When she had spirited him up to the ArchAngel II after their reunion, he hadn’t been thinking far enough ahead to bring clothes with him.

  “Yes?” he replied, pulling on his boots and grabbing his hat as he walked from her bedroom into the outer suite. He heard a voice he recognized, grinned, and shouted, “STEPHEN!”

  Rounding the doorway, Michael found his brother dressed in black pants, a form-fitting black shirt, and— “A lady?” Michael raised his eyebrow as he reached Stephen, Jennifer, and Bethany Anne. “How do you do?”

  “Michael, this is Jennifer, my mate. Jennifer,” Stephen waved to Michael, “this is my brother.” The dark-haired woman nodded politely after Stephen introduced her.

/>   Michael reached over to shake Jennifer’s offered hand. “My, my,” Michael mused aloud. He reached up to stroke his chin, and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “A Were captured the heart of the Entrepreneur. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  Jennifer eyed Stephen, whose face remained characteristically bland—only a small smile admitting he was involved in the conversation at all. She turned back to Michael. “And I am pleased to meet Stephen’s brother. He has told me a few tales, but in general Stephen has remained silent about you.”

  Michael leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “That would be because he hated me for a thousand years.” He leaned back. “I’m not saying it wasn’t warranted, but I was a bit immature when Stephen first became upset with me.”

  Jennifer, aghast, turned to Stephen, who nodded. “It’s true,” Stephen agreed and pointed to Michael. “He was a monumental jackass.”

  Bethany Anne shrugged when Jennifer turned to her. “Stephen’s right.”

  “I agree,” Ashur called from behind the couch, “for what it’s worth.”

  Michael called over his shoulder, his face toward the couch, “Who asked you?”

  Ashur’s head popped above the back of the couch, his tongue hanging out. “No one, but I have to support Stephen on this.”

  “Apparently my previously horrible reputation has dwindled,” Michael mused as Ashur walked around the couch to join the four of them. He laid down, front paws crossed, and looked up at the humans.

  Ashur chuffed, “I doubt that, but Bethany Anne will save me.”

  “Oh no you don’t, fur face!” Bethany Anne nudged Ashur gently with her foot. “You say it, you suffer for it.”

  “Hmmph.” Ashur leaned forward to sniff Michael’s pants.

  “What are you doing?” Bethany Anne asked him.

  “I smell cat,” Ashur answered, “but not a regular cat.” He looked up at Michael. “This is a bigger cat?”

  “Yes,” Michael admitted, looking down. “Not as big as you, but much larger than a natural cat.”

  “Claws?” Ashur queried.

  “Of course,” Michael answered.

  “Wonder how a large cat will do around Weres,” Jennifer mumbled.

  Michael turned to her. “It took a while for Demon to become accustomed to Jacqueline, who is a Were. Demon doesn’t like Were smell much, because it reminds her of the lab where she was held. I’m getting through to her enough now that she is trying to disassociate the smell with her time in the lab, though.”

  “She’s bloodthirsty?” Stephen asked, and Michael grinned. Stephen shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Never mind… Of course she is.”

  Michael noted a second time that Bethany Anne hadn’t said anything about him being bloodthirsty. Just what had happened while he was gone?

  An hour later Bethany Anne pushed Stephen and Jennifer out of the suite. “Ok, big shot.” Bethany Anne poked Michael in the chest.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing ‘Bethany Anne and Michael Meet, Round Two?’”

  “What?” She shook her head. “No, but now that you know my evil plan, you might just hurt yourself on purpose to get me to kiss it better and we have to meet the guys for your workout with them in ten minutes.”

  Michael grinned in response.

  Bethany Anne smirked, grabbed Michael’s hand, and pulled him toward the bedroom. Ashur chuffed behind them.

  “Would you please close the door?” he asked. When the door shut with a ker-chunk, Ashur laid his head back down on his paws.

  “Thank God that hatch is soundproof,” he grumbled.

  QBS ArchAngel II, Guardians’ Workout Area

  Darryl nodded to Scott as the two of them backed up. His eyes focused on Scott’s midsection in the hope that he would see the Kick of God coming in time.

  There it was!

  Darryl ducked, using his fists in a no-holds-barred effort to smash the ever-loving shit out of Scott’s femur.

  Cause that fucking kick had hurt.

  Nanocytes or no nanocytes, a crack in the lower leg bone was a sure way to—

  “Hucking FELL!” Scott yelled in surprise.

  Darryl had gone ass over appetite when Scott’s leg contacted his fists. He rolled to his back and sprang into a defensive position fifteen feet away, prepared for Scott’s next attack.

  However, Scott wasn’t in any mood to attack at the moment. He was still hopping around while keeping one eye on Darryl.

  “Sorry,” Darryl told Scott. Not that he was sorry at all! “But I had to figure out a way to make you worry about sending out that Kick of God.”

  John spoke from the sidelines. “I thought it was all about teaching Scott a lesson?”

  Eric jumped in. “Yup, pretty sure those were your exact words.” He smiled at Scott as he looked at him and Darryl.

  Darryl narrowed his eyes. “John, wasn’t it your idea to try this?”

  John’s smile dropped. “Now hold on,” he said as he waved a hand and glanced at Scott. “You asked for strategies—”

  “That’s right,” Darryl cut in. “And when Eric jumped in about making sure Scott was worried about using the Kick of God, you two came back with three different ideas in a matter of seconds.”

  “Well, sure.” John shrugged. “If someone is willing to test tactical ideas when the price of failure is a Kick of God to the face, wouldn’t you let them sacrifice their face for the betterment of the team?”

  Darryl’s own smile dropped. “You cretinous asshole!” he called to John as he walked over to Scott.

  Scott was gingerly testing his leg by slowly putting his weight on it. Darryl jerked a thumb toward Eric and John and said to Scott, “Can you believe these guys?”

  Scott glanced at Darryl, sizing him up as he got closer.

  “No!” Darryl put up his hands. “I’m done, I’m done. Peace.”

  Scott raised an eyebrow. “And if I punch you because St. Payback is a bitch?”

  “Well…” Darryl slowed down, eyeing Scott. He didn’t look like he was setting up to deliver a cheap shot. “Then I guess we get him a patch?”

  It took Scott a moment to figure out what Darryl was suggesting before he hung his head and smirked. “Yeah, ok, peace.” Scott held out his hand and Darryl took it. “But that shit hurt like a motherfucker.” He eyed Darryl’s hands.

  “What?” Darryl lifted his hands and turned them over, trying to understand what Scott was looking for.

  “Checking to see if you had brass knuckles.” Scott chuckled.

  “Nope!” Darryl was smiling as he put up his hands in a classic Mohammad Ali stance and punched the air. “Float like a butterfly!” He jabbed twice more. “Sting like a bee!” he finished with a wink.

  Scott punched Darryl lightly on his arm. “Sometimes you make me forget how smart special forces people really are.”

  Darryl stood straighter, his back tight and a frown on his face. “I think you just threw shade on me.”

  “How does one throw shade on a black man?” Scott asked. “And if you were like your SF brothers, you would have known I was suggesting you were slow. But since you are slow, you didn’t understand.”

  “Oh.” Darryl turned toward John and Eric, who were still off the mat, and his face broke out in a huge grin. “This cop is thinking to get into a scrimmage of words only because his Kick of God failed so miserably on us military types!”

  Scott had just opened his mouth to argue the point when there was a sharp knock on the door. When it opened Bethany Anne and Michael stepped in, and Michael closed the door behind them. Bethany Anne looked at the four of them and blew out a breath. “Scott, did Darryl do something to you?”

  “No ma’am,” Scott answered. “Darryl was about to explain how he blackmailed someone to get into Special Forces, since he obviously couldn’t have passed the mental acuity tests.”

  Darryl growled, “I’ll give you mental acuity tests!”

  Scott hissed back, “I know you, ass! You always
have to pass a form off to others to help you fill it in. Just write in your name in the first two blanks! How fucking hard can it be to remember the first answer? It was the first test we used in SWAT—if a trainee couldn’t figure out the first two blanks were for their name, we dropped them off at the military recruiting station.”

  “You, sir, are a jackass!” Darryl chuckled, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

  “High praise, so thank you,” Scott replied.

  “Are you two done?” Bethany Anne asked. “Or shall the three of us take care of this?”

  “Mmmmm.” Scott thought for a moment. “First person to step forward,” he said, pushing Darryl toward Bethany Anne.

  Darryl stumbled twice before stopping and looking over his shoulder at Scott.

  “Oh, look there!” Scott smiled as he pointed to his friend. “Darryl volunteered!”

  “Then I guess…” a dark voice said in Scott’s ear, “that it will be me and you.” Scott’s grin disappeared as he pivoted, his feet set on the floor to attack or defend at a moment’s notice. He looked left and right, but saw no one.

  Scott turned back around when Michael reappeared next to Bethany Anne. The ex-SWAT guy rolled his eyes and placed a hand over his heart. “Oh my God! That wasn’t nice!” Scott pointed to Michael. “Someone needs to remind me to take my heart attack pills when Michael’s around.”

  “Everyone, come here.” Bethany Anne waved them over, shaking her head in resignation.

  When the boys got together, they were going to play.

  Stupid fucking alpha males. Can’t blow them up, because they always have explosives too.

  Chuckles accompanied them. Scott kept acting as if he were about to keel over from a heart attack as he slowly made his way to them.

  “It’s the big one, Cheryl Lynn.” Scott grasped his chest with his left hand, his right arm thrown wide, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve been scared to death, and I’m comin’ to join you!”

  Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Has Scott lost a wife?”

  “No.” Bethany Anne wanted to punch her friend herself. “She’s on another ship at the moment, preparing to go down to Earth for a sightseeing expedition when I give the ok.” Her lips pressed together. “But if Scott keeps this up, I’m thinking she might have to visit him in Sickbay.”

 

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