Mike & Karen Ch. 08

The friends of the man who had insulted her all stared dumbly while he avoided her eyes, blushing in embarrassment.

"Thunder... horse!"

"I am not knowing this song!" Freja said loudly, trying to be heard over the roar of the song being played.

"The group is called 'Dethklok,'" Mike replied, enjoying himself. "A cartoon death metal band with real songs and albums."

"It is loud, even for death metal," Freja replied. "And I am from Roskilde, I would know!"

"It doesn't help that it's being played in this sardine can," Karen observed, watching her younger sister intently. It never ceased to amaze her what a Gordon Alexa could be. "She's got really clean trills, doesn't she?"

As the entire song became louder and reverberated around the club, Alexa's notes became faster and more complex, but her gaze remained fixed on her target. He sank down in his chair, his face red while people at the tables around him were starting to cheer and bounce with the music.

Alex knew the bass part of the song well enough to watch his wife, even if it was just from behind. He discovered new things about her constantly that enthralled him, even if this particular revelation was born out of anger. He'd already forgotten his own fury at the dick who'd insulted her, knowing that she had the situation well in hand. She was a Gordon-Blackwell woman, after all.

The foursome hit their final notes, and the place erupted in cheers and loud applause. Alexa's face was flushed with both exhilaration and anger as she finally looked around, seeming a bit surprised by the accolades she was receiving. Leaving her Gibson hanging in front of her by its strap, she pressed her hands flat together and nodded to the crowd. The asshole who had insulted her leaned over and spoke to his friends, dropping money on the table quickly and then getting up to leave.

"Hey! Shithead!" Alexa called out after him as he crossed the floor. The club went silent and everyone looked at the man. He stopped and slowly turned, a look of irritation on his face.

Suddenly she hiked up the front of her shirt, exposing her huge, bra-less tits to him and everyone else in the club. There were quiet gasps across the floor. Her eyes flashed scornfully at him.

"Happy now, little boy?" she demanded.

He turned and fled out the door. Half a second later, the club broke into laughter and cheers again as she lowered her shirt and exhaled. Alex, Ted and Dave were all roaring with laughter while Freja and Jeanie rushed up onstage to give their friend hugs and kisses, squealing in delight. Alexa returned the hugs, but seemed a little stunned, staring off at nothing. Knowing that look, Freja smiled and led her to Alex, whom Alexa hugged in relief, although she was careful not to show any further suspect affection.

Alex finally released her, and the girls led her off the stage while Alex approached the mic and spoke to the still-cheering audience.

"We might've had a few more numbers planned over the course of the evening, folks, but I think Alexa's earned a rest, eh?" he quipped. "So I'll get my dad to join us for the rest of the night and we'll do our part to keep you entertained. Give it up for Alexa!"

She could barely hear them applauding as she sat down again, next to her sister, while Freja and Jeanie snuggled into them. Mike was already heading up to the stage, his Gibson Les Paul in hand. Karen smiled and caressed Alexa's cheek.

"I had a feeling that might happen," she said softly. "After what that jerk did. Mom and dad would be proud, Alli."

"Up until I flashed my tits, anyway," Alexa sighed, finally relaxing and staring at the table.

"Oh, mom wouldn't have cared," Karen replied, taking her little sister's hand and kissing it. "Dad would've understood, even if he couldn't approve. He watched me do things like that when someone got my blood up, and he didn't keel over then. You were amazing."

"I had forgotten that you could be so good, it has been some years, ja?" Freja mentioned. "The last time I saw you play, it was almost three years ago, at the club in Berlin, I think."

"You were the hit of the night, don't doubt it," Karen said in a reassuring tone. Up on the stage, her husband had already joined the other guys and they had broken into 'Sweet Home, Chicago,'with him at the mic. She smiled as she thought back to that day, many years ago, when she'd fiddled her way into the jam session, and further into his heart.

The three women giggled as Alexa drained three of the glasses of water on the table, one after the other. Refreshed, she now seemed much more her usual, confident self. "So, do you feel a little more normal, now that you've refreshed yourself and flashed scores of people?" Karen teased.

"That was completely spur-of-the-moment, I will have you know," Alexa replied, trying to sound indignant, but unable to keep the giggle out of her voice. "Besides," she announced, hooking two fingers into Karen's top and pulling it out so she could see her sister's breasts. "I don't see any bra on you, missy!"

The sisters descended into fits of snickers and giggles as they squeezed one another's breasts, while Freja and Jeanie looked on in delight. They only stopped when they heard someone clearing their throats from the other side of the table. They looked up.

"Not interrupting, are we?" a young black woman asked, with four other women standing behind her.

***

Not many people or groups were listed for the jam session that night, and some just joined Alex and Mike onstage as they had fun doing improv. They'd been onstage for more than an hour, when they finally took a break and let a trio take over. They came back to their table and found all the seats occupied already, since five women had seemingly joined them and they were all talking animatedly. Alexa's eyes lit up when she saw the boys.

"Come and meet our new friends!" she said in an excited tone. She stood up and scurried around the table to stand with Alex, and began to point to the new people.

She pointed to a black woman in her late twenties. "That's Kira; she's an import from Cleveland and plays keyboard."

"Nice to meet you," Kira said, nodding as she looked them up and down.

"This is Charli, and she's a bassist," Alexa continued, indicating a brunette in her thirties. "Samantha plays drums, Aarie plays rhythm guitar, and Danjiela plays lead guitar."

"So you're a band?" Mike asked reasonably.

"Well, sort of," Kira replied. "We're no pros, and we play for fun and often for charities. We're looking for a new lead guitarist, and someone to do our vocals. Charli and I saw you guys at karaoke a few weeks ago; we watched Alexa and Karen knock out that ABBA number and were impressed. Then we saw her play here tonight, and we wanted to ask her to join us."

"We practice a few times a month, and mostly just do gigs when we can find the time - we're a low-pressure group," added Samantha, whose hair was dyed red. "We do maybe six or seven gigs a year, most of them charities. Other than that, we just get together and have fun learning new songs to add to our repertoire."

"I really want to do it," Alexa said almost breathlessly, but she was obviously looking for approval, or at least input, from Alex and Mike. "It's infrequent enough that it won't interfere with my studies, and I get to do charitable work."

"I think it's a great idea," Mike replied, nodding. He wasn't surprised that all the women spent most of their time staring at him. Women in their twenties and thirties? What are the odds? "You should do it, Alli."

"Alexa said that you guys all play instruments and sing," Aarie mentioned. She seemed to be half-Asian, with black hair and deep brown eyes. "You're like the Partridge Family or something! Maybe we can get you guys to do guest spots once in a while! It'd be fun!"

"You oughta go for it, Alexa," Alex agreed readily. "It's a fun hobby for all of us, not a career, so I say enjoy it as much as possible."

"Not to mention that your husband will get to be your roadie and groupie!" Jeanie quipped, winking at Alex.

"Husband?" Charli inquired, seeming confused. "Alexa, I thought you said he was your nephew."

There was a pregnant pause for some moments, where nobody spoke.

"Oops ..." Jeanie said under her breath, blushing and sinking lower into her chair. Freja just sighed and shook her head.

"It's true," Alexa admitted, nodding. "Alex is my nephew, my sister Karen's son, and he's my husband. We've been in love since the moment we met and we married one another, if you will, over the summer. We're trying to get the avunculate marriage laws changed."

More moments of silence and Samantha smiled and shrugged. "Hey, I finally escaped a small cult in B.C. where I was married to a guy with five wives, and two of them were sisters. I think you make a great couple."

"Not a problem for me," Kira added.

"I'll work my head through it, I promise," Charlie stated, while Aarie just gave a thumbs-up and Danijela nodded in approval.

"I guess it's settled, then," Kira mused, smiling. "We have a new lead guitar and singer. Alexa, welcome to the Replicants."

***

"Bit of an odd name, "the Replicants," isn't it?" Mike mentioned as he drove along with his wife. Karen was sitting in the passenger's seat, smiling out the window.

"While you were onstage, they told us that the name came about because they play music from all sorts of eras," Karen explained. "They don't stick to one genre or decade, they pick what they like for their gigs and run with it, practicing those individual songs and performing them. No new songs, they just cover existing ones."

"Sounds like me: broad range, little depth," Mike chuckled.

"Oh, you're infinitely better than you let on; you just don't want to be the Jedi at everything and allow other people to feel like the expert on occasion," Karen chided. "You're every bit as good on the piano as I am, despite your lack of training. Only a genuine concert pianist would be better than either of us."

"Okay, you got me," he agreed cheerfully. "I don't need to be the best at everything. Being the best at making you happy is more than enough."

"Honeydripper," she said, patting his arm and smirking at him. "That one girl, Kira, she's got the hots for you, you know."

"I am not having sex with Alli's bandmates," Mike said firmly. "I know that tone of yours, young lady."

"Young lady?" Karen exclaimed, putting a hand to her breast and trying to look against. "You are one month older than me."

"And don't you forget it," he replied, nodding. "Or I'll take you over my knee."

"Promises, promises," she sighed. "When was the last time you spanked me? It's been too long."

"It was three days ago."

"Well, I did say it's been too long," she pointed out, pressing her index fingertips together. "My poor neglected derriere ..."

"We'll take care of it tonight," Mike laughed. His wife was the most insatiable and deviant woman he knew. And that took some doing. "Do you think the young'uns are having a good time?"

"They're out drinking and dancing, getting to know their friends," she reasoned. "Assuming Freja and Jeanie don't get themselves arrested somehow, I'm sure it'll be delightful ..."

***

1986, tucked away on campus ...

The water garden was quiet and serene at this time of day. Mostly what one normally heard was the splashing of the small artificial waterfall that fed this particular garden, wedged as it was between two of the larger lecture buildings on campus. Made of flat, square stones of various sizes, and overgrown with plants, it was a lovely place to sit and relax.

Karen was sitting on a small folding stool near the water's edge, gently playing the Prelude to Bach's Suite No. 1 on her cello, her eyes closed as the zephyr notes carried through the courtyard, complementing the gentle cascade of the waterfall.

She had an audience, but it was not people. Near her feet, several koi were gathered around, wiggling as they listened intently to her playing. It might have had something to do with the fish food she sometimes brought them, but she liked to think it was her exquisite playing that held their ready attention.

There were dorms nearby, but no one ever objected to her playing in that location. Every so often, someone stuck their head out their window and asked her to continue, in fact. The October weather was mild but grey, a cool breeze and the thinning leaves of the surrounding trees indicating that there was only another week or so before her piscine audience would be put away for the winter.

She heard a shuffling sound outside of the water garden, someone's rather uneven footsteps. She opened one eye and looked over, still playing.

DeBourne tottered by, his clothes torn and messed up, his blond mane dishevelled, covered in scratches and welts, and one of his eyes squeezed shut. He absurdly looked like he was trying to be quiet, so as not to disturb her.

Of course, she stopped. The koi paused for all of three seconds, and then dispersed, the show apparently over.

"DeBourne ..." she called out, but not too loudly as she lowered her bow away from the strings. She remained seated. He paused as she called him, facing away from her, and clearly heaved a sigh. Slowly he turned around, and she made a wry face, noticing that he was in worse shape than she'd initially thought. No one bad individual injury, perhaps, but the sheer amount of them was rather distressing.

It was cruel to make him come to her, so she gently laid her cello aside and stood, smoothing out the skirt of her dress, and walked toward him. He didn't move, just looking at her blandly out of his remaining unblackened eye. Her heart began strumming as she approached him. Would she ever stop being enthralled or intimidated by his presence or his sheer size?

She stopped in front of him and simply looked up into his face for several seconds. He was actually sporting a few abrasions in various locations, all of which were staining his shirt and pants a deep red.

"You should see the other guys ..." he said finally.

"Who incurred your wrath, one might ask?" she inquired.

"I don't take kindly to men who feel free to take liberties with women or their personal boundaries," Mike mumbled.

"So that's why you're bleeding like a Hapsburg princess all over the courtyard?" Karen sighed. "Well, we can't have you leaving a trail of gore all the way back to your bed now, can we? Come and sit ..."

She ignored the electric thrill of taking the giant's hand and leading him slowly over to a stone bench, not far from her folding chair. She sat him down and told him to wait while she retrieved her backpack. Not surprisingly, she pulled out a small first-aid kit and opened it. She then knelt in front of him while she managed her supplies.

"I didn't want to interrupt you," Mike said quietly as she took out a small cloth and put disinfectant on it. "Music played like that shouldn't be interrupted. I'd've been fine."

"Some things are more important than playing to fish, DeBourne," she answered, standing now and bending over so that he face was near his. His poor, normally handsome face. The skin was puffed and swollen, turning purple in several places, and covered in nasty scratches. His left eye was purple and squeezed shut. "This is going to sting."

He grunted. "Only sting? That'll be a step up, actually."

He didn't flinch at all as she began to wipe the blood and dirt from his face, cleaning him off as best she could. Without asking, she put his arms up over his head, making him wince slightly, and pulled his shirt off, exposing his massive torso. There were cuts and bruises here, too. More gauze and disinfectant were used, and then a series of tension bandages were applied to keep his cuts closed, at least the nastier ones.

"That'll do for now," she said after several minutes, noticing that she was sweating slightly and feeling tense. She leaned back and assessed her handiwork. He was still battered and bruised, but he wasn't covered in dirt and bloody streaks any more. "The campus nurse can handle anything from the waist down, I'm sure."

"She's probably sick of seeing me," he muttered, scowling at the square rock tiles that made up the garden's surface. "I'm not in the mood to be poked and prodded at any more, not for a while, at least."

"Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?" she asked, fully willing to do it.

"No, I ..." he faltered in speaking for a moment. "You really know your way around Bach, don't you?"

Her reply was somewhere between a nod and a shrug.

"If it's not an imposition, Gordon, could you just ... could you play, and I'll just stay nearby and listen for a bit? I could use that kind of serenity right now."

Her expression remained passive and neutral, but her heart soared and she tried not to tremble at his suggestion. He wanted her to give him serenity.

He wanted her to be his serenity.

He didn't put his shirt back on, seemingly unfazed by the cool October air, and as she sat back in her little folding chair, he leaned forward on the stone bench and sighed deeply, his hands folded in front of him. She picked up her bow and looked over at him.

"From the top?" she asked.

The response was a barely perceptible nod.

Karen drew in a breath, found her moment, and began to play again, the notes floating away from her strings, once again meshing beautifully with the waterfall's music. She smiled as she saw her koi friends gathering at her feet again, rapt by her art. Mike listened from the stone bench nearby, unmoving, his head down. He seemed almost like a wounded giant, in her mind towering leagues over the landscape, even in his suffering state, unassailable. Only her music could reach him.

Some minutes in, he stirred and stood wearily, moving a few feet to an expanse of green grass that was part of the garden, and surrounded by late-blooming plants. He settled down to a sitting position for a moment, wincing as he balled up his shirt and then lay down, putting the tattered garment behind his head. He simply lay there, staring at the autumn sky, his hands folded on his chest, just listening to the soothing strains of the goddess who played for him.

Not for the fish.

Not for her own edification.

She sought to give him serenity, and she was doing so freely.

Where else would he ever find serenity again?

***

Author's Notes: No, I'm not turning the DeBournes into the Partridge Family, but music is a big part of this story, and I want to have some venues to play around in, keep them from being a little too stereotypical and two-dimensional about sex and such. I just want the various family members to have varied interests and activities, like a real family, even if their careers line up.

The next arc is gonna be split into two three-chapter stories, just so you know - one arc will continue in Toronto and follow the 'sprequel' concept, while the other storyline will take place mostly in the present and deal with Karen and Alexa meeting the dreaded Blackwell family in Quebec, their first big test as a sister tag-team. They'll be run side-by-side, and tie into one another. It should be possible to read the Mike & Karen stories as normal without reading the Karen & Alexa arc if you don't wish to. Hence the choice I'm giving people.

Credit where it's due - the song 'Lake Shore Drive' is courtesy of Aliota Heynes Jeremiah from 1971. If you only know it from the Guardians Of The Galaxy II soundtrack, shame on you. Mike will track you down and punch you in the face.

'Thunderhorse' is courtesy of Dethklok, from the 2007 Dethalbum. If you like metal, well, I don't need to tell you anything else.