Sunday

June 4th

The prospect on watch duty had called Ashley in a panic. He couldn’t get a hold of Brand. Ted was unavailable. And Savannah was out of town.

And after he’d babbled this in her ear and forced Ashley to snap in annoyance at him to get him to tell her what was wrong, he finally explained the reason for his call. There were Rebels in town. They hadn’t tried to sneak in. It wasn’t any of the ones who went to college up at the university.

Ashley didn’t know why they let the Rebels take classes at the university. This was followed quickly by a surge of irritation. Why had she been called last? She was the sergeant-at-arms. This was her job! It wasn’t Brand’s. It certainly wasn’t Ted’s. She should have been called first. The prospect babbled something about orders and Ashley hung up on him.

Then she had to call him back to get the details. Bother.

It occurred to her that maybe she should call for backup. Instead, she called Diane and told her that she’d be late for Sunday dinner. Sunday dinner, which was probably the reason that the prospect had been unable to get ahold of Brand. He always held dinner at his house, and usually invited one or more families of the Club to attend. For all Ashley knew, that is where Ted and Hazel were.

They didn’t have to know about this. She could handle it fine. It wasn’t like the Rebels were trying to hide. They were using one of their official gang vehicles, shiny black, darkened windows and decked out in chrome.

Ashley psyched herself up all the way to where they were parked, outside the park with a view of the lake. Ashley parked several spaces away from them, she kicked down the stand. She quickly checked her lipstick, refreshed it, and slid off her bike. She quickly tugged down the hem of her skirt and as she walked over to the SUV she collapsed her helmet into her computer and reached up to tousle her curls. She smiled as she came up to the passenger window and knocked.

The window rolled down and a square jawed guy with a goatee and uncertain heritage stared back at her. His skin was darker than hers, but Ashley couldn’t tell if he was Hispanic or black or a mixture of several races. His eyes seemed vaguely Asian. She smiled winsomely.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said and tucked her hair behind her ear. “This is Heaven’s Heathens territory and I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “If it wouldn’t be too much of a fuss.”

The guy looked back over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

Ashley bit her bottom lip. “Please.”

The driver coughed.

The man in the passenger seat must have gotten his answer. He looked back her. “Very well,” he said.

She smiled at him again. “Thank you. I am truly grateful for your cooperation,” she said and backed away from the vehicle. “You have a great day.”

The passenger rolled up the window.

Ashley waved at them and went back to her bike. See, that hadn’t been too hard. All she’d had to be was polite. The big black SUV auto went into reverse and pulled out of the parking area.

Ashley put her helmet back on and hummed to herself. She heard large engines overhead and glanced up. The Club transport flew over the lake towards the hospital or the hangar. Ashley wasn’t sure which.

Her heart leapt a little. They were back! The prospect was back. She’d be able to meet him soon. She bit her lip and smiled, turned on the bike, and headed towards Diane’s without thinking to follow the Rebels out of town. Diane had to hear about this!

---

Skyler flipped several switches and spoke quietly with Control. The transport moved in a circle around and then lowered to the ground. She opened the door from the cockpit.

Two nurses ran with a floating bed from the hospital. Hope followed after them, her coat flapping. Jordan waited until they were alongside the doors. He picked up the doctor and put him on the bed gently.

“Dr. Brown, I’m Dr. Hope Mead,” Hope said and leaned over his bed. “Welcome to Jasper.”

“Hope, pretty name, Hope. Nice to meet you,” Brown said.

Hope smiled. “It is wonderful to see you safe, Dr. Brown. With your permission, I would like to see about getting your legs and feet in order.”

“Don’t know what you can do, Hope, but you’re welcome to try,” Dr. Brown said.

Hope nodded. “I will do everything I can and then some,” she said softly. The group headed towards the door. Dana followed, his gun in his hands. He nodded at the two guards on the Hospital doors. They disappeared into the building.

Skyler sighed and shut the door, piloting the transport back into the air.

Savannah reached over and squeezed her hand. Skyler smiled at her. Savannah winked. “We did it.”

Frankie lifted her hand up. “Knuckle bump,” she said.

The four girls bumped knuckles.

The hop to the hangar was short. Skyler landed the transport with no problems and the roof closed over them. She flipped switches and said, “Control, this is Lunacy One, we are safe and denned.”

“Welcome home, Lunacy One.”

“Thank you, Control.” Skyler said and killed the power to the transport. The side door opened and they took their time getting out.

There was a huge group of people waiting for them at the hangar. Gideon looked up and squinted at the sky. The sun was going down. What day was it again? He’d lost track in the catnaps and the long ride. They’d left on Saturday. It had to have been long enough to be Sunday. Or maybe it was Monday. No, had to be Sunday. They hadn’t lost that much time. His instincts were usually pretty good on that. He checked his clock, yep, Sunday.

“Mommy!” one child yelled.

“Daddy!” shouted a second.

The children ran towards them not willing to wait for their parents. Blake grabbed his daughter about the waist and lifted her up, kissing her cheek. Morgan let her kids hit her legs and wrapped her arms around them. Flint met her and wrapped his arms around her.

Poppy lifted her nose. “Blake, come here,” she said, stomping her foot and pointing at the ground.

Blake ducked his head and grinned. He went over as ordered and kissed his wife, who grinned and wrinkled her nose at him.

“Hey, Flint! Morgan’s fine! I’ve got to go see Georgie!” Frankie said and ran off.

Flint leaned back from kissing his wife and watched her go. He laughed lightly.

Brand opened his arms and Savannah ducked into them. She hugged him and he hugged back. “Well?” he asked, meaning Gideon.

Savannah tilted her head back and Brand let her go. “He kept up,” she said and walked away.

Brand watched her go with a slight smile on his face. He turned to Gideon. He came over and wrapped an arm about his shoulders. “I think she likes you,” he said as serious as he could be.

Gideon looked at him. Savannah had an odd way of showing it then. He was too tired, despite the catnaps to come up with a smart quip. All the adrenaline was crashing down. “Oh.”

Brand grinned. “Good work, Prospect.” He reached up and ruffled Gideon’s hair. “Go home. Get rest, bring the armor back when you can.”

Gideon nodded slowly. “All right.” His body hurt. He hadn’t jumped and rolled and shit like that in armor for months, and his body was telling him how badly his muscles were out of practice and feeling the strain. Believe it or not, going to Africa, rescuing a doctor, and jumping around like a deranged monkey had not been on his to-do list yesterday. He hadn’t stretched out nearly enough. However, he couldn’t find the energy to translate this from his brain into coherent sentences.

Brand used a hand to lightly push him towards his car. “While you’re still upright.”

Eberron moved over closer to Brand.

Gideon sighed and walked away. He got to his car, opened it, and almost fell into it.

The two watched him go.

Gideon's car door shut behind him, and Eberron watched the boy start the auto, smoothly back up, and pull out of the parking lot without any shenanigans. They were going to have to work on that. The boy needed to pull out with style. He looked over at Brand. "I like him."

Brand raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" That was good. Eberron liking someone was better than Eberron not liking them. Gideon was going to be picked on either way.

Eberron crossed his arms. "He's got Savannah tangled up in knots."

The other eyebrow rose. "Oh?"

Eberron grinned. "I like him." He uncrossed his arms and walked away.

Brand looked after Eberron and let his face relax. He tilted his head and half smiled. Now, that was interesting, very interesting indeed.

---

Spike adjusted the tie of her robe around the middle and ran her hands down it. It was one of those real ‘Chinese’ silk kimono robes that her grandfather had bought her and sent her for Christmas a few years ago. She would have preferred something softer and in terry cloth, but her boyfriend seemed to appreciate this one. Spike was grateful that it was a plain solid maroon color with a contrasting white stripe as the collar. She opened the “French” doors that led out to her patio and wiggled her toes on the brick while sniffing the air coming off the lake.

She tucked her bangs behind her ears and looked over the lake. The rent at Pine Pointe was more than worth it for the view. She sighed and let her shoulders relax, and looked at the patio next to hers. Plus, there were other advantages. Spike smiled and walked over to the other door. Her feet didn’t make any noise of the bricks. She gently turned the handles on the patio door and let herself inside.

The living room was empty, but her neighbor’s motorcycle and his truck were parked on the other side of the building. She knew he had to be home. She went through the living room to the bedroom, which shared a wall with her bedroom.

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She stopped and put her hand on the doorframe. Her neighbor’s eyes were closed and he sprawled out in the middle of the big bed. His sheets around his hips, his tanned olive skin etched with colorful tattoos of day of the dead art contrasting sharply against the white sheets.

Spike’s smile drifted to one side of her face. She crept over to the side of the bed and sat down on it. She ran a finger down his nose. “Joaquin, baby,” she murmured. His black hair was falling into his eyes again. He hadn’t shaved probably since she’d left either. He had more of a beard than scruff.

Joaquin opened his eyes and blinked several times. “You’re home,” he said, his voice a husky growl.

Spike loosened her robe and let it slide off her shoulders. “Mmm, hmm,” she said. “And you’re asleep.” She twisted about, putting her feet up on the bed.

He rolled over onto his side. “I was waiting for you, mi amor,” he said. “I was going to be posed out on the bed in glory for you when you arrived, and I must have dozed off.”

Spike repressed a giggle. “In all your glory?”

“Si,” he said and rolled over on top of her. He grinned down at her.

Her eyes sparkled and she ran her hands down his chest, caressed his hips, and delved her hands beneath the sheets to confirm her guess that he wasn’t wearing anything at all. “All for me,” she said, lifted her head, and kissed him.

He kissed her back, then kissed down her chin, along her jaw, and to her neck. His fingers came and pushed the robe to the side and fiddled with the tiny strap of her nightgown underneath it. “I wanted to make you happy,” he murmured and then trailed off into a stream of Spanish, a mixture of endearments, how beautiful she was to him, and exactly what he planned to do to make her happy.

Spike relaxed and ran her fingers through his hair. He looked up, met her eyes, and leaned into kiss her again. Her nerves spiked, and she wrapped a leg around him, trying to get him closer despite the fact she still wore her robe and nightgown.

He growled against her mouth and deepened the kiss.

Spike arched her back. Yes, he was going to make her very happy.

---

Frankie curled up against George, placing a hand flat against his chest and snuggling up against his shoulder. His heartbeat had slowed down and she was sure he was falling asleep. Her body ached in pleasant ways. She felt cuddlesome and slightly talkative. It’d wear off in a few minutes but what she needed to hear would take that amount of time anyways.

She turned her head and kissed his shoulder. “Did you miss me?”

George’s eye opened, and he shifted his head to try and look at her. “Miss you?” he asked. “We talked Friday.”

Frankie lifted her head to look at him. She frowned slightly. “I went out of town on a job Saturday, I just got back,” she said. Did he really think she came and pounced on him just because? Okay, sometimes she came and pounced on him because she could, but most of the time it was because she’d been out of town working. She hadn’t called either. Hadn’t he noticed she hadn’t called?

George struggled and got his elbows underneath him. He stared at her. “You went out of town.”

“On a job, yeah. Snag and drag of a doctor in Africa. Poor old man.” Frankie pressed her lips together. “They hurt him.”

George’s brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. “You’re just telling me.”

“I told you.” Frankie paused. “Twice!” She sat up and pushed her hair back. “Friday, during dinner.”

“To Africa,” George said and his voice dropped. “I think I would have remembered if you said you were going to Africa.”

“It was a simple snag and drag, easy peasy, Blake hacked the battle armors and had them do a little jig, and the tank didn’t get any shots off, and Morgan got a teensy bit overexcited and used a rocket on their main communications array. But it was no big deal.”

“Africa.”

“I had my innocs.” Frankie crossed her tattooed arms under her breasts. “I don’t want to argue about this again, Georgie.” She pouted.

“It’s dangerous,” George said. He did. “It’s bad enough you ride around on that motorcycle like a wild animal, but battle armor and tanks and rockets.”

Frankie stiffened. “It’s not that dangerous. Morgan’s up out of the action and I guard Morgan.”

“Until she gets a teensy bit overexcited,” George said. “Then you’re down in the fray with everyone else.”

“That’s part of the job!”

“I don’t like it.”

Frankie pushed her hair back. She didn’t care if he didn’t like it. “She’s my sister, George. Family!”

“Does Flint go down in the fray?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Or your precious Uncle Rodeo?”

“Uncle Rodeo does whatever Uncle Rodeo pleases.” Frankie sucked her cheeks in. “This is my job. It pays my bills.” She had a motorcycle. Her father charged her rent for one reason or another, equipment, dojo fees, eating out all the time, entertainment, shopping. The money for that didn’t magically appear in her bank account.

“I don’t see why you can’t get another job or ask for more hours and a raise at the dojo.” George scowled at her. “There are other things to do in life.”

“Morgan and Flint have six pups. They need my help.”

“They chose to do that, not you. Let them take care of them.”

“I want to help.”

“And the fact I care about you and don’t like you putting yourself into danger doesn’t seem to matter.”

Frankie rolled her eyes and got off the bed. “Of course it matters.” She marched towards her clothes and picked them off the floor. “My family matters too.” She shoved her arms through her sports bra and tugged it down. “They are as important to me as you are, and I am not having my nieces and nephews lose a parent when I can do something about it.” She’d seen first-hand how that had almost killed Savannah. She wasn’t going to have that type of pain befall her family.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, to bed. I said I didn’t want to fight and that’s all we’re doing.” Frankie found her shirt.

“To your parent’s house.” George crossed his arms.

“Where I live to save money so we can have a house of our own someday.” Frankie jerked her pants on, glared at him, and threw her kutte on. “And savings and room for improvements and maybe help pay off your student loans.” She jerked her hair back into a ponytail. “But that doesn’t matter because I’m putting myself in danger,” she said, and shoved her feet into her boots.

“Considering the risk outweighs the reward. Yes.”

Frankie grabbed the door and turned and glared at him. “The reward is that I have a family that is whole,” she said. “That doesn’t boil down into numbers you can compute on a spreadsheet. You can’t seem to understand that. Good night.” She slammed the door behind her.

She stomped down to her motorcycle, sat down on it and then started to shake. All she’d wanted to know is if she’d been missed. Why did it matter where she’d been or what she’d been doing? They’d been apart a couple of days. She hadn’t said hello to her parents before coming to see him. He was important to her. Why couldn’t he see that the rest of her life, the parts that had been around before him, were as important to her too? She sniffled, rubbed her eyes on the shoulder of her shirt and started her motorcycle.

She loved Georgie. She did. Sometimes, she wished he could understand.

---

Gideon fumbled one of his gloves off to open the door to his apartment building. This was made more difficult by the fact he’d found his clothes on the passenger seat of his auto and had decided to bring them with him. He had his clothes draped over one arm and was holding his boots in that hand. He got the door open without dropping anything, stood there for thirty seconds trying to remember why he was there in the first place, shook his head once, and stepped inside letting the door shut behind him.

Beda’s door opened down the hall and she looked out. Her face brightened and she bustled over to him. “You made it back,” she said with a smile.

He stared at her and blinked once. That required a response, didn’t it? “Uh, yeah.”

She reached out and hugged him.

Gideon closed his eyes and belatedly remembered that he was supposed to hug her back or something. He reached the hand up without a glove and patted her back.

She let him go. “You look exhausted, or as Rosie would say, plum tuckered.” She looked down her nose at him.

Gideon lifted his hand up and down. “Savannah, jumpy.” He let it drop, and then raised it again to run through his hair. It took effort. “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck under the flexible neck armor and then shook his head rapidly. “Sorry.” He wasn’t being a good conversationalist.

Beda tucked her arm around his and led him towards the elevator. He shouldn’t worry about it. She’d been on more than her fair share of these types of adventures. “I’ve been watching for you,” she said and patted his arm. “I figured you wouldn’t stop to get anything to eat, I left you a bowl of stew in your fridge. All you need to do is heat it up a few minutes.”

She pushed the button for the elevator. The doors opened. She shoved him inside and pushed the button for the second floor. “Now go get out of that rig and fall flat on your face. Don’t know what Brand was thinking.” She shook her head. “Sleep tight, dear.”

The door shut in front of her.

Gideon leaned against the wall and blinked at the shut door and tried to come up with any thought, any thought at all. He couldn’t come up with any. Did all apartment managers take such grandmotherly interest in their renters? He didn’t know.

The door opened and he managed to get out of the elevator and to his apartment. His keys were in his vest pocket. He had to set his boots and the one glove down, rummage through his pockets to find them and then unlock his door. He turned the handle and, without looking up, picked up his boots and the glove and walked inside.

He stopped. A large overstuffed suede couch and a coffee table sat in the middle of what had been empty space. He blinked again. Oh. Apparently Beda had forgotten to tell him that his furniture had arrived. Nice. He dropped the boots out of the way of the door and shut the door.

It was the fact he couldn’t sleep in the combat armor and he didn’t want to sleep in the armor that got him moving again. He could and he had before, but not comfortably. He pressed the buttons to release the bracers and from the bracers it was pretty simple to unlatch and unlock the rest of it. Hunter had forced him to program the helmet into his computer. But the rest of it, chest and back plate, torso and pelvis armor, shoulder guards, upper arm armor, elbow guards, thigh armor, knee guards, calf armor, and the boots weren’t collapsible in any way shape or form. He made a pile of it next to his military issue combat boots. He’d clean it later. He could do that at least. If he took it back dirty, he had a sneaking suspicion Hunter would make him clean it anyways.

He scratched the back of his neck and walked naked over to his refrigerator. He opened the door, leaned against it, and grunted. Beda’s stew was in a paper bowl. He wouldn’t have to return it to her. He grabbed it and his carton of milk, shoved the bowl into the microwave and tipped the carton over his mouth. He set the carton on the counter and started stretching. If he didn’t stretch now, he was going to hurt like hell in the morning.

In between stretches, he itched and decided that a shower wouldn’t be a bad idea. The microwave made a noise and he opened his drawer for a spoon, picked up the bowl and started shoveling it into his mouth. He walked back into the living room and walked around his furniture to keep his muscles warm.

He kicked at the couch with his foot and moved it back and forth a few feet until he liked it, all the while chewing and swallowing. He shoved the coffee table in front of the couch until it was centered and close enough he could put his feet on it, and called it good. His spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl.

He threw the bowl away, rinsed the spoon off and dropped it into the sink to deal with later and headed towards the bathroom. He twisted the hot water on all the way, stepped in, let the water cover him from head to toe for a few seconds and stepped back out.

He finished his stretches on the short distance between the bathroom and the bedroom, and fell into bed. As he rolled up into the blankets, deep in his mind the thought occurred to him that a girl would be really nice to cuddle up to right about now.

---

Savannah pulled into her garage and got off her bike. Her shoulders slumped as she walked over to her kitchen door and unlocked it, pushing it open.

“Hey honey, I’m home,” she said to the empty space. She put the keys on the nearest counter and pulled her computer out of her ear. “Oh right, I live alone,” she murmured. Her throat closed up as exhaustion and bevy of emotions rolled over her. She was too tired to beat them back.

She walked across her kitchen, unbuckling her armor as she went. It was nothing against the others, but she couldn’t stay and watch them reunite with their loved ones. She could see them in her mind’s eye, little scenes playing out.

Blake and Poppy taking the Poppet home and reading her a story as they put her to bed and then Poppy grabbing Blake and leading him out the door to their bedroom for happy, marital, been in love since kindergarten, sex. Morgan and Flint would take longer. They had more kids.

Frankie, Savannah figured, would put on a sexy nightgown and go jump on Georgie at his apartment. Eberron would go search out Hunter at her place later tonight, knock on the door, pick her up, and carry her inside. They were a purely physical thing that stopped at the thresholds of their respective apartments. Something everybody knew about, but nobody talked about.

Savannah trudged through her living room, not seeing the pictures on the walls or the plants scattered about everywhere, candles burnt and fresh poking up through the leaves. She paused at the hallway, using the corner to prop herself up. She stumbled down the hall, past her parent’s empty master bedroom.

Skyler and Cole, Savannah shook her head. They might not make it off club grounds. Merle, Dana’s girlfriend and, Sandy, Jordan’s wife would meet those two at the hospital.

Savannah turned the handle of the bathroom and her eyes flushed with hot tears. The only one going home alone other than her was the prospect. And Skyler was right. He was really sexy. It wouldn’t stay that way for long. And she was his Sponsor. She couldn’t make a play for him without the entire pack coming down on her. She turned on the hot water and shrugged out of her clothes, barely keeping it together. Tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her bare shoulder. She couldn’t cry.

It was unfair. He was hot, single, and unrelated to anybody, and she couldn’t do anything. She hated being alone.

She stepped into the shower, let the hot water hit her body, and lost it. She sobbed. Her body shook and she found a wall to lean against. Her arm wrapped around her stomach. She’d come home, alone, again. And Skyler was still pushing and pushing and pushing, and it hurt badly. Her body ached, and Savannah couldn’t tell anymore if it was from exhaustion and the armor weight or the need to be held.

Her nose plugged up, and she had to blow it out several times. She sagged against the wall, and went through the motions of bathing. She sobbed, hiccupped, and finally gave it up. She shut the water off, and reached blindly for a towel and her nightgown. She patted herself off half-heartedly, let the towel drop to the floor, and pulled the satin and lace piece of black lingerie over her head. Not that there was anyone to appreciate it.

The thought set her crying again. She shook her head and pushed her way out of the bathroom and across the hall to her small bedroom. The bed was large enough for a single person and still inviting. She rolled up into the covers, reached down over the edge, found a stuffed white rabbit with black fur like eyeliner around the eyes, and wrapped her arm around it. She curled into a ball, closed her eyes, and stubbornly tried to ignore and control the tears. She sniffled several times.

Emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted, Savannah finally fell asleep.