by Gini Koch
Jeff sighed again. “It happens. Stop worrying about it.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The less said about the ride back to Martini Manor the better. White and Buchanan weren’t feeling great, and while White had faster healing and regeneration because he was an A-C, getting mule kicked by an android wasn’t something even the toughest person just shook off.
Everyone else was in some kind of stress-related mood, to the point where I wished I’d mastered the A-C talent of napping wherever and whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Once back, happily, Tito didn’t demand that I go immediately into isolation, preferring to get everyone back to the Embassy before Treatments of Doom were handed out.
We said fast but heartfelt good-byes to Alfred and Lucinda, reclaimed our small child, ensured our belongings were already back at the Embassy, and took a nauseating gate trip back home.
I’d expected to be happy to be back in D.C., and I was at first, what with getting a lovely greeting from everyone who’d been able to avoid going on Exile to Florida. None of them seemed upset that I’d sort of trashed a building. I was even happier when Tito decided I could merely go to bed really early, as opposed to going into isolation.
Christopher and Amy dashed for their rooms. White and Buchanan went with Tito, Emily, and Melanie to the medical bay. Len and Kyle went across the street to say hi to everyone at the Romanian Embassy, Olga and her granddaughter Adriana especially. And I got another set of hugs from everyone whom I hadn’t seen for a month.
The Embassy was a full city block wide and long, seven floors going up, one real floor going down, with one underground parking floor, and then a bigger drop down to the Secret Lab Section that the former Diplomatic Corps had secretly had installed when Jeff and Christopher were little boys. The Embassy, like Martini Manor, was one of the A-C showcases, so it was quite opulent and had pretty much anything you could want in terms of business and home layout and amenities.
Happy Embassy Hellos done, I really wanted to go up and lie down. Only I could tell Chuckie was still upset and I wasn’t an empath. “You want to hang out here a little while?” I asked him.
Chuckie shrugged. “Not sure it’s a good idea.”
Jeff sighed. “You need it. Come on.” He led us to one of the small studies on the third floor. “Hang out here while we get our things squared away.”
Chuckie looked uncertain. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure we have a lot we need to go over,” Jeff said.
“Like how in the world Sandra the Android knew to attack us at NASA Base.”
“And whatd">d"> we’re going to do when those pictures hit the newsstands,” Chuckie added morosely.
Jeff pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey, Naomi. Back in D.C. Nope, all here. Yeah, finally. Look, are you and Abigail available? Great. Yes.” Jeff rolled his eyes. “Thanks ever.” He hung up and shook his head.
“What’s going on?”
“Naomi and Abigail are going to come babysit Reynolds. Apparently they were waiting for my call and feel I should have asked them to help out in Florida.”
“I don’t need a sitter,” Chuckie said with a laugh that didn’t sound remotely real.
“Yeah, to quote Amy, you really can’t lie to me, because there isn’t an emotion you have I can’t read. You need company while we’re upstairs, and we need to go over things sooner as opposed to later.”
As Jeff finished talking, the Gower girls arrived. They were younger than Michael, but, like their brothers, they were dark-skinned and beautiful to behold. They were also hybrids, which, because human genetics were strongest for external and A-C genetics strongest for internal, was why they resembled their mother, Erika, who was a beautiful dark-skinned African-American human, much more than their father, Stanley, who was also part of the Alpha Four Royal Family, though a few inheritance places farther away than the Martinis were. The Gower girls were also incredibly talented.
Abigail was the youngest, and she was like a reverse empath—she picked up thoughts but they filtered to her like emotions, so if someone was thinking angry thoughts, Abigail felt angry. There were also gases common to Earth that could cause mass hallucinations for the majority of humans that the A-C field teams were able to manipulate. The Field teams needed implants in their brains to do the manipulations. Abigail didn’t.
Naomi’s talents were more like her eldest brother’s, dream and memory reading, but greatly expanded. Naomi could also alter dreams and memories. The girls tended to work together as a team, and they were the C.I.A.’s main test subjects for what hybrids could do now and might do in the future, so they spent a lot of time with Chuckie.
That the Gower girls hadn’t conspired to take over the world, or destroy it, had much to do with ACE. ACE was a collective superconsciousness I’d managed to move into Paul Gower during Operation Drug Addict. But even before that incident, ACE had helped the Gower girls to control their powers when they were young, and now he was doing it with all the new babies, Jamie in particular.
The Gower girls took one look at Chuckie and sighed. “You were right to call us over,” Naomi said as she went and sat next to Chuckie. “You need to relax, mister,” she said with a grin.
He managed a smile. “Right. Let me tell you about our day so far, and then you can tell me to take it easy.”
Abigail chuckled. “Let’s get him calmed down, Sis. Our boy’s all riled up.” Of course, it took A-Cs with special talents or people who’d known Chuckie a long, long time to tell that he was upset, but for everyone in this room, it was obvious. Abigail smiled at Jeff and me. “We’ll say ‘great to see you’ when you two get back.”
Jeff and I knew when to take a hint, so we headed to our apartments, which took up half otoo”f the seventh floor and were larger than the house I’d grown up in. But I was getting used to living in them and had missed the privacy while in Florida.
Before we were through the door, I was greeted by a tide of canines. My parents had moved to D.C. right before Operation Assassination had rolled, and they were in a no-pets building. This meant that we now claimed ownership of four dogs and three cats. The pets seemed to be okay with their permanent vacation.
The dogs having proved they’d missed me and Jamie and loved us best, I trooped into our bedroom to the welcoming sounds of loud, demanding mewing mixed with equally loud purring. The cats were lounging on the deluxe cat trees I called Poof Condos, surrounded by a whole pride of Poofs. I gave up on the idea that Jeff and I could get some quality naked time in the next few minutes and focused on the fur balls.
The Poofs had been our parting gifts from the Alpha Centaurion Royal Family during our wedding, aka Operation Invasion. They were small bundles of fluffy fur, with cat ears, bright, button eyes, and tiny paws. Poofs were basically the cutest things in existence. They also had the ability to go Jeff-sized and very toothy, so they were great personal protection providers.
They were also androgynous and could mate with any other Poof. They mated when Royal Weddings were afoot. We had a lot more Poofs than our wedding or Christopher and Amy’s would have warranted, but I didn’t mind. Poofs for everyone and more Poofs for me was one of the mottos I lived by.
In the Poof’s world, if you named it, you owned it. We had the unnamed Poofs living with us, so while I was gone, Jeff had gotten to enjoy all the Poofy wonder by himself. I was envious—I’d missed all the pets, the Poofs in particular.
For whatever reason, the Poofs hadn’t come down to Florida with us. They had a lot of powers no one understood, among them the ability to go wherever and whenever they wanted. But none had wanted to visit Florida, not even the Poof that was obviously Jamie’s. I’d tried to bring them along, but they’d done a runner and come back to D.C. before we’d been at Martini Manor an hour.
However, Jamie’s Poof was in her arms now, snuggling and purring up a storm, while she giggled and cooed. Two Poofs alighted on my shoulders. “Harlie, Poofikins! Kitty’s mi
ssed you so much!”
I got a lot of Poof purrs and rubs. The cats deigned to take an active interest beyond yowling at me for my desertion and jumped onto the bed, mewing and purring.
“I was hoping to be the first one you cuddled with in bed,” Jeff said, “but clearly the animals missed you two as much as I did.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll bide my time. So cuddle with the cats,
baby. I know you want to, and so does Jamie.”
Thusly encouraged, Jamie and I got on the bed and were soon buried under cats and Poofs. It was a lovely thing to come back to.
In the midst of our little love fest, Jeff wandered out. I heard a strange voice. “I love Jeff!”
Yi
CHAPTER 14
I SAT UP. “WHO’S THERE?”
Jeff walked in, a large parrot on his shoulder. The parrot was gray. It was also kissing him. Literally.
“Meet Bellie,” Jeff said. “Jeff loves Bellie, and Bellie loves Jeff, doesn’t she?” he cooed at the bird, who did the parrot version of a coo right back before she leaned her beak back for another kiss.
I watched my husband snuggle this bird for a good few seconds before I could manage to come up with a question that wasn’t going to start a fight. “Um, is that . . . ours?”
“Yeah.” Jeff beamed as he brought the bird over to the bed. “You’d just left and we got a shipment. It was addressed to you, but since it had no return address, we figured we’d better open it at Home Base, just in case.”
“So you went to Area 51, and this popped out of the box?”
“Yeah.” He fished something out of his pocket. “This came with her.”
He handed me a note.
Miss Katt,
Have taken your advice. All traces removed. However, the bird is innocent and will likely be destroyed. Sending her to you, therefore, since you appear to be an animal lover. With my best regards for your continued good health,
Your Uncle
I stared at it, then stared at Jeff and the bird again. “So, my ‘uncle,’ the notorious assassin, Peter the Dingo Dog, removed all traces of his being hired by Titan Security, that I understand. But, in an act of animal kindness, the scariest hit man in the business sent Antony Marling’s African Gray Parrot to us? And you’re okay with that?”
Jeff was clearly okay with it. To the point where I was worried he was going to kiss the bird with tongue.
He nodded. “Your mother and Reynolds didn’t object. They examined the note and got everything they could from it. Bellie’s been checked, and she’s healthy, and there are no hidden things on her anywhere.”
“Oh, good. So, why did you keep her?”
Jeff looked aghast. “She was going to be sent to Animal Control if we didn’t keep her!”
“There are plenty of exotic bird rescue groups out there.”
“I couldn’t send Bellie to one of those. She’s a very sensitive creature. And she’s very affectionate.” He had the same expression that I was used to seeing toward Jamie—possessive and protective.
He and the bird had another little nuzzle-fest while I controlled my nausea and my annoyance. It was time to be diplomatic again.
“I can see that.” Fine. We had a bird. And not just any bird. We had our last Major Megalomaniac’s Beloved Birdie. And my husband had attached to her just as her former ownerr f>
I shoved a smile onto my face. “Okay, no worries.” I put my hand out. “Can I pet Bellie’s pretty feathers?”
The bird looked at me, and I recognized the expression. It said clearly that Jeff was hers, and I wasn’t included in their Special Love.
Because I had fast reflexes, I was able to pull my hand back right before her beak closed on my fingers. Instead, she bit air, and she bit it viciously. I didn’t need to consult an ornithologist—this bird didn’t like me.
“Wow, guess I’m not allowed to pet the bird.”
Jeff looked shocked. “You must have frightened her. She’s not like that with anyone normally.”
I let the many sarcastic comments I wanted to say pass as I thought about it. “Who does she like?”
The bird looked at me again. “Bellie loves Jeff,” she shared.
“Yeah, Bellie, I got that one. Jeff, who else does Bellie love or at least like?”
“Well,” he said, while petting the bird, “she likes Christopher, Pierre, Tito, even Reynolds, Irving, Kevin, pretty much everyone.”
“Uh-huh. Does she like Doreen?” Doreen and Irving Weisman were part of our Diplomatic Mission. Doreen’s parents had been the head Diplomats for American Centaurion before I’d had the Poofs eat them. Fortunately, Doreen was both nothing like her parents and not holding any kind of grudge for their deaths.
“Doreen hasn’t really tried to do much with her. She has a new baby, after all.”
True enough. She’d given birth right at the end of Operation Assassination, a couple days after Lorraine and Claudia had. “What about Nurse Carter?” She was our Staff Nurse because after going through all we had with her during said Operation, it seemed logical for her to stick around.
“Magdalena says she doesn’t like birds much.”
“Uh-huh. Did she say that before or after Bellie tried to take her hand off?”
Jeff had the grace to look a little guilty. “After.”
“Right. So this bird loves men, and she clearly adores you, but she doesn’t like women, and she hates me already, because I’m your wife.”
“I’m sure it’s just because she doesn’t know you yet.”
“Right. Well, if she so much as puts a beak or claw in Jamie’s general direction, she’s dinner. Otherwise, don’t let me intrude upon your love that knows no bounds.” I had an awful thought. “Where is this bird sleeping?”
“Bellie sleeps with me.”
“Not any more she doesn’t.” Wow. I’d been gone a month, and if someone had asked who I’d guess my husband might have a torrid love affair with in my absence, a lunatic’s African Gray Parrot wouldn’t have even made my top thousand guesses. “And she sleeps in a cage, because I don’t want to be murdered in my sleep.”
“If you insist.”
“I emphatically insist.” I looked around the room. The dog beds weren’t against the wall. “Where have the dogs been sleeping?”
Jeff mumbled something.
“What? Didn’t catch that.”
“They don’t like Bellie. So I put them in the nursery. Along with the Poofs and cats. I move the Poof Condos out during the day,” he added quickly, as if that were going to make it alright.
I was honestly speechless. No advice, no comic, no movie, no TV show, had prepared me for this kind of rival for my husband’s affections.
Fortunately, the many things I wanted to say were forestalled by a voice on the intercom. “Chiefs, it’s Walter. You’re needed.”
Yi
CHAPTER 15
“NEEDED WHERE, WALT?”
“Naomi asked me to let you know that you’re fine to rejoin them any time you want, Chief Katt-Martini.”
“Great, be there in a bit,” Jeff said.
“Ah, I think they’d like you there sooner than later, Chief.”
Animal greetings or no, I’d still hoped to at least fit in a quickie while the girls calmed Chuckie down. Of course, Jamie was wide awake, and the people waiting for us seemed impatient. On the other hand, it’d been a month and I’d been horny for Jeff from the first hour we were apart.
“Does Bellie want to go for a visit?” Jeff asked. The bird, not me. In a voice normally reserved for our daughter, only.
I looked at the bird. Bellie looked right back at me. Before this experience in surreal horror, I’d have said the only animals capable of looking smug were felines. I reversed that judgment. The bird looked smugger than I’d have thought possible.
“Bellie missed Jeff,” the bird shared as she rubbed her head up against his cheek.
“And Jeff missed Bellie,” he shared
right back.
Well, that did it for me. There was no way I was going to be in an amorous mood while that bird was around. “Great, Walt. We’ll be right there.”
“I’ll let Naomi know, Chief Katt-Martini.”
“The bird stays here,” I said after the com went off.
“Why?” Jeff seemed completely unaware of my emotional state.
“Because Jamie’s coming with us, and I don’t want that bird around Jamie.”
“Her name is Bellie.”
“Her name is going to be Carcass if you don’t put her away in a really sturdy cage.”
d">Jeff looked hurt and disappointed, but didn’t argue. While I settled the Poofs, dogs, and cats down, and moved the dog beds back into our room, Jeff took care of Bellie. Apparently she didn’t go into her cage without a romantic interlude with my husband and several bird treats. It was official—I hated the bird.
Bird hatred gave me energy—I wasn’t nearly as tired as I had been, so that was one for the win column. I slung my purse back over my shoulder and looked inside. Happily, Harlie, Poofikins, and several other unnamed Poofs were snuggled up inside, snoozing.
Jamie needed neither feeding nor changing, the benefits of her having been with Lucinda while I was out being She-Hulk. I slung the diaper bag over my other shoulder, Jamie clutched her purring Poof, I picked her up and the two of us, at least, were ready to go. Jeff was still saying good-bye to Bellie. I wondered if I could ask Chuckie to have some shadowy C.I.A. killer off the bird for me, but figured he was too upset to broach the subject at this precise time.
No problem. There was always tomorrow.
I stalked out of the bedroom to find Jeff waiting for us. He took Jamie from me and cuddled her. “I’m sorry you’re jealous of Bellie.”