Dear Diary,

Something I didn't really think much about until yesterday at the end of the day when Headmaster Miles asked me to take some Senior Cadets on a ride along; a big part of becoming an adult is response to responsibility. As kids people tend to throw one of two ways. Either they hear about some kind of opportunity for responsibility and nope all the way the fuck out, or they hear about something like being a 'hall monitor' or some shit like that and get the kind of butterflies in their stomach I got when I read the bit about Heroes being the equivalent of Senators in Phileo Law and Custom.

I think I just figured out why by applying the tiniest amount of self reflection. Some kids hear 'responsibility' and realize that means you're the one on the hook for things. Other kids hear it and think 'power'. Like, they give no shits about what they're supposed to do with that power, or whether they're gonna hurt people with their whole playschool baby's first dictatorship routine. But neither one of those is a really adult response.

Because the adult response is hearing about some responsibility, realizing that they're gonna be on the line for getting shit done, then realize that this does, in fact, need to get done, and somebody's gotta do it, so unless they're actually incapable of doing it, they get off their ass and do it. I mean, unless they're overbooked, in which case maybe they see if somebody else can do it, or if they gotta adjust their schedule or some shit. Or sometimes they realize that they are absolutely the worst choice for that task, but there ain't nobody else available, and it needs to be done, so they get up and do it, because sometimes the only way to get people motivated to do shit that needs to be done is to fail spectacularly making the attempt.

All of that ran through my head after the Headmaster made his request. At least he didn't use that whole 'requested and required' line on me, because for whatever reason that totally grabs me by the guilt and makes me want to get shit done. Gotta be some weird Mana effect. Or fuck, maybe it's me growing up, because I neither ran screaming at the thought of being responsible for a dozen Senior Cadets nor did I cream my panties at getting to lord it over them. Then again, I guess I could have done that latter anyhow, so it wasn't as big a thing.

Of course, then he dropped another bomb. "Oh, also, with the Marshall away, we'll need someone to teach his Combat Training class."

I pointed at myself and mouthed, "me?"

He just laughed. "Yes, Champion. You are, in fact, one of the few Instructors who the Marshall has ever allowed to assist him in teaching Combat Training. So I'll take that as an absentee vote of confidence in your teaching abilities."

I sighed, then said, "How soon do you need me to do that ride along thing?"

"As soon as possible, Champion."

I slumped a little. "Okay. Combat Training tomorrow, then I'll pick them up Monday morning. Can they be ready by then?"

He smiled. "Part of the challenge is giving them as much warning as they might get for an emergency. When would you like me to tell them?"

For a moment I toyed with the idea of telling them at breakfast Monday, but instead I shook my head and said, "Let them know tomorrow at breakfast that they're to meet me after breakfast in the Entrance?"

"I will. As is traditional, I'll be there to see you off."

I shot him a wry smile. "Thanks, Headmaster."

Then I took Siobhan by the hand and stepped home. Directly to the cubby room, where I stripped down and dumped my stuff in record time. "Is everything okay, Tabitha?"

I looked over at Siobhan, who'd just finished placing her headgear in a cubby. "Yeah, no, just stressed. It makes my scars ache. Ache worse than normal. I think."

"Oh, dear. Help me with this?" I took a moment to carefully help her take off her robes.

"Still going commando, huh?"

She smiled at me, somehow managing impish and serene at the same time. "You've never told me to stop."

I took her hand and walked to one of the showers. "You know you don't have to, right?"

"Do you still like it?" she asked as she picked up a wash cloth and soaped it up.

I smiled at her. "It's warm in here, and," I motioned to my own very perky nips. "So, yeah, kinda."

"I thought that was because of the cold in the Practice Yard?" She spun me through the water, then let it pour over my front as she scrubbed my back.

I reached back, took her hands, and pulled them around to my breasts. "Yeah, hot water ain't got nohtin' on my response to my Ice Pop going around shiftless just because I like her that way."

Right about then we heard the kids heading for the Bath, and she laughed and started scrubbing. I just leaned against the wall and let her work. When she finished washing my hair, I moved her under the water and washed her off quickly and gently. When I finished, I rinsed and wrung out the wash cloth, hung it from the little bar under the shower head, and turned off the water. Clean, we walked the few steps to the Bath hand in hand. The water felt especially good after the cold, particularly on all my scars.

"Hey Kitten?" I called out without looking.

"Yes, love?"

"I think I'm gonna sleep in here tonight. You okay with that?"

She wound up having to hush the kids before asking, "do you mind company? As I'm sure you heard the children would enjoy providing some."

"I'd love company." Even if the kids might keep us from doing other stuff.

A moment later Siobhan Co-Located the pair of us to the Bedroom, lying side by side on the bed, looking at each other in the mosaic mirrored ceiling. The hot water might make my scars ache less, but it definitely made them stand out more. It made the contrast between my own scarred, tanned, muscular body and Siobhan's slim, pale, perfect one even more pronounced. "Sorry."

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"For what?" She asked as she ran her fingers along my scars without looking away from the mirror.

I sat there trying to come up with the words to explain, to somehow express how perfect she was. A few moments later, Saffron showed up both in the Bath and in the Bed, lying opposite Siobhan from me. Buxom, bodacious, beautiful Saffron. I think my eyes watered a little, even as the steaming water forced my scars to let go of their constant stiffness. "You two are so fuckin' beautiful."

Saffron smirked at me... no, at Siobhan in the mirror. Something passed between them, and my hands moved of their own accord, slipping behind their heads, my fingers burying themselves in their hair. Then I pulled their lips together above my face, losing myself to the sight of them kissing. As I did, their voices whispered through my head.

I think our Goof must still be cold.

Small hands slipped up to cup my breasts. They are quite stiff, aren't they?

Shall we warm them?

Let's.

Their mouths were very warm.

Dreamt of my ladies singing hymns about Ecstasy. Fitting.

Woke floating in the Bath, Siobhan under one arm, Saffron under the other, with Marie lying behind and beneath me, her arms around us and the kids who'd decided to glom atop us like cute little barnacles. After a full night in the Bath's warm embrace, my scars didn't hurt at all. Maybe a little bit of stiffness, but that was it.

Thanks, ladies.

De nada. Marie answered immediately.

Time for me to get to work? At the inquisitive noise in my brain, I thought, I gotta teach Combat Training today.

Marie jostled Siobhan awake, and a moment after the two met each other's eyes, the three of us stood next to the towel racks. "Hurry."

I'd actually slept late. Well, not late late, just late enough that after ten second's toweling I used a Filtration Ward to banish the wet from us, then insta-clothed us in our Academy togs before stepping us to the Dining Hall. Bless Marie's heart, and bless her incredible cooking Skills even more, because she brought me a tray of spicy eggs, jalapeno scrapple, sausages, and black bread at the same time everyone at the head table got served. I took my time with it. Like, I was still there, Marie blushing a little as she watched me savor myself to foodgasm on her cooking, while the rest of the Maenads cleaned up the Dining Hall and put the tables aside to clean the floor.

I'd Co-Located up to the Practice Yard not long after I started eating, only to find Vickerson and Citron both there already. "Did you guys eat yet?"

"No, Ma'am." They inadvertently chorused.

"Get yourselves down and get yourself food. Your enthusiasm is noted, and I'll be sure to tell the Marshall how eager you two are. But your wisdom is lacking; training on an empty stomach is gonna hurt more than it helps. Go."

"Uh, Ma'am?" He asked, already half turned to head back to the Dining Hall.

"Yes, Citron?"

"Where is the Marshall, anyhow?"

I chuckled. "Sudden diplomatic mission. Saint Boltophsburg."

"Thank you, Ma'am. See you after breakfast?"

I nodded, then made shooing motions with my hands. He skedaddled.

Without any kind of plan for the day, I fell back on the Marshall's old standby. Squadball. Of course, after lunch I called the Cadets back into formation. As they stood there sweating, I stood at Parade Rest in front of them, shaking my head. "I'm a little disappointed, Cadets." They all looked somewhere between embarrassed and pissed, but I'd expected that. "Not with your play. Not precisely. You're getting better with your aiming, your blocking, your dodging. All good stuff. Nobody's shirking that I can see. Props to you guys for that." All of them looked a little less of whatever they'd looked. and I shook my head again. "But that's all pretty standard stuff. Nothing that's gonna make a difference when shit goes south. Oh, you're even getting a little better at your teamwork. But..." I shook my head again, playing it up.

Eventually Hildegarde raised her hand, and I nodded to her. "What did we do wrong?"

I smiled, but kept it tight. "Props for having the stones to ask. Good for you. But that's the wrong question. You guys didn't do anything wrong, per se."

She got a bit of a booger look, but didn't say anything. Citron raised his hand, then asked, "what didn't we do?"

I smiled again, a little wider. "Innovate. You guys are playing solid, maybe even professional level Squadball. But the furthest away from 'normal' I saw this morning was the team who did dual Healer, dual Caster." I paused for a moment, then explained. "Look, Cadets, you're training hard. I'm gonna push you to be stronger, faster, and harder than you ever thought you'd be. The Marshall, or I guess me standing in for him, will teach you how to fight, both as groups and individually. When we're done with you, whether that's in six months, a year, or five years, you're gonna be the most dangerous you can possibly be short of actual battlefield experience. Hell, for those of you like Vickerson with actual battlefield experience, you're gonna be some of the most dangerous combatants in Atlantis...."

"But?" Citron asked, and I didn't even begrudge him not raising his hand, since he set me up so well.

I nodded at him though. "Somewhere out there somebody else is training just as hard. Maybe they're from a tradition that's as badass as Phileo. Probably not, we are the most dangerous fuckers on the planet. But maybe. Maybe they're just bigger, stronger, and faster than you by nature, and they're training just as hard. What's gonna happen when you and that bigger, stronger, faster, just as well trained you go head to head in a stand up fight and try to smash each other into the ground?"

He looked a little irked at having to say it, but he answered, "I'm going to lose?"

I nodded and said, "unless?"

He took a second, but then answered with, "unless I have a team of Cadets with me?"

I gave him a 'not bad' nod, but followed on with, "okay, that's gonna help, but what happens when he brings his squad of buddies too?"

Citron shrugged and said, "we lose?"

I shook my head. "Not an option, Cadet. Yeah, sometimes the only thing you can do is lose as hard as you can, hope your reinforcements can win when it's their turn. But we're training you to win, to not need that."

He threw his hands in the air. "So how do we win a stand up fight against an equal number of Heroes who are better than we are?"

At that point Hildegarde snorted. I'm not sure she meant it to be heard, but before Citron could get pissed I stepped straight up in front of her. "Did you have something to add, Cadet Hildegard? Some response to Cadet Citron's question?"

She's got some big ones, because she straightened up, looked me in the eye, and said, "Fuckin' rich kids." I just looked at her, and she added, "always about the fair fight." She glanced at Citron and said, "fighting's not a game. Fuck fighting fair. Fuck stand up fights. Kill 'em in their beds the night before."

I snorted, laughed, and clapped her on the shoulder. "Okay, just putting this out there, none of you are allowed to attack one another outside the Practice Yard, and only within the Rules of Engagement inside the Practice Yard. So no jumping on one another in your bunks. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," they all chorused.

"That said, Cadet Hildegarde hit the main point though. While we're using games to train for it? War isn't a game. Saving lives isn't a game. Defending the ones you love isn't a game. Heroing. Isn't. A. Game."

I looked around as the light dawned in most of their eyes. Vickerson raised her hand. "So, as regards Squadball, what should we do?"

I smiled at her. "If we play a game on Saturdays, when the goal is to exercise you to help you get stronger, faster, harder? Come as close to the rules as you can without breaking them. On Sundays, when we're getting you ready for fighting in the real world? Get. Creative."

Funny thing, I did not expect to have to implement a new rule so soon. 'You may only hit other Cadets with a Squadball' wasn't popular with Hildegarde, who'd leapt over the divider and decked the opposing side's Healer mid-'Heal', but everybody else thought it was brilliant. Until I said that her doing the same thing with a Squadball in hand was just fine.

Yeah, had to make sure everybody shook hands afterward. Also had to have Vickerson and Hildegarde escort each other down to the Infirmary to make sure I'd set their noses right.

Fates were definitely fuckin' with me today. I do the right thing, fill in for the Marshall, and try to teach one of the best lessons I remembered from his Combat Training class, and what do I get for it?

Pissed off Ice Pop, that's what.