Mike & Karen Ch. 28

"On it," Glenda said readily, getting Val to come with her over to the couch and then gingerly lifting the stricken Englishwoman between them to a standing position, her arms over their shoulders. As they got her up, Tatyana handed Jenny her remedy in a pewter cup.

"Oh, and she might have gotten frisky with an indeterminate number of students," Karen mentioned. "See if they'd be so kind as to boil her before we let her back inside my domicile, will you?"

"How many fingers am I holding up, Kat?" Jenny groused, scowling and flipping Karen off as she was escorted out of the room. She brought the cup Tatyana had given her to her lips and downed the contents in one long swallow.

"Gnnnnn, this ponks..." they heard Jenny say, the metal cup clattering to the floor in the hallway as she dropped it.

"It's a strange world we live in where I'm the well-behaved one, Tatyana," Karen sighed, still looking at the doorway out of the study.

"Perhaps," the seneschal allowed, standing beside Karen. "But knowing your younger sister, her friends Freja and Jeanie, and the countess, I find that notion strangely comforting, actually."

Karen smiled. An interesting life indeed.

***

The grand suite, west wing...

Alexa lay on her back, arms behind her head and looking at the ceiling. It was warm enough that she had no covers on, her lovely, naked body exposed for Alex to see, lying her next to her. Neither had anything on the docket today, and they had decided to be lazy together.

"Aside from keeping me pumped full of orgasm hormones and being married to me," she mused quietly, her sapphire blue eyes lost in thought. "What're you planning on doing with your day?"

He knew what she meant. They were both excelling in their courses, but amazing grades on their own wouldn't be enough. "I was thinking I might knuckle down and begin preliminary research on my grad thesis, actually."

She turned her head and looked at him. "It's not any old thesis, Alex. It's... revolutionary, it's gonna change everything in our field."

"Yeah, but I've got so much to figure out," he replied. He was only a first year, but he wanted to get going on this. It was going to take lots of time "And I may never have what I need to prove my thesis, no matter how hard I try."

Alexa rolled onto her side now, looking at him and caressing his chest gently. "But that's what I love about you, Alex. Y'don't let little things like 'that's impossible' get in the way. And if it was anyone aside from you, I'd agree and say that the person would never have the research they need available in this lifetime. But not you. You'll find a way. You've got this. You're even better at languages than Kar, Mike and myself."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," he said, smiling. "You said you don't need a thesis."

She shook her head. "I plan to know as many modern languages as possible, being a dazzling socialite and possibly the best translator the U.N. could ever ask for. When the Russians, the Iranians, or the Chinese are talking shit behind our backs, I want to make sure that we know and are ready."

"You'll scare them all to death," Alex laughed, pulling her into a hug. "Tall, Amazon blondes tend to have that effect on the world outside of northern Europe."

She giggled and kissed his nose as she spread her legs while he pushed his erection deep inside her waiting pussy. "You should teach me an indigenous language. Cree, or Mohawk or something. What group was living in the area of Newfoundland where you were born? Dildo?"

"Well, the Beothuk language is mostly extinct, even I don't speak it," Alex said as he adjusted, feeling her shiver as he stretched her insides. "But I can teach you Mi'kmaq while I'm brushing up on it. It's an Algonquin language in origin."

"You have a deal," she sighed as she began flexing her muscles around him while he slowly fucked her. "We're gonna visit there one day, and maybe I oughta speak some of it, right?"

"Maybe, but I've got a different language I want you screaming in right now," Alex said, smiling evilly before plunging down, pushing as deep inside her as he could. He covered Alexa's mouth with a kiss as she wailed in rapture.

This spring was the beginning of when everything would change for them.

***

Kerkyon Clinic, not too far away...

Glenda had pulled the Maybach up to the front door and then come around to help Lady Greymoor out of her side of the vehicle, assisted by Val. Jenny was walking, but they still held her arms gently, in case she missed her somewhat wobbly footing.

Jenny didn't scowl, but couldn't stop a sour look from clouding her face as she saw Dr. James waiting for them at the doors, a smirk on her pretty face.

"Well, at least you seem to be in one piece, and a proper colour, of sorts," the doctor mused.

"And how, pray, did you know I would be coming?" Jenny asked as the three women escorted her into the clinic. Samantha waved off any looks from the other staff members, indicating she had this handled.

The brunette woman smiled. "Michael may have phoned me yesterday afternoon and appraised me of your night's upcoming activities and he told me to expect a visit. This morning, I got a quick text saying Glenda was bringing you. I've been waiting for almost an hour, my lady."

Damn that man... Jenny thought. Him and his sodium atom bullshit...

"But don't worry," the doctor said cheerfully. "I'm sure my cure for what ails you will be much more pleasant than the pickle brine."

Val and Glenda restrained their snickers. While unexpected, there were parts of this job that they wouldn't miss for the world.

Bring it on.

***

Don't forget to read the stinger after these Author's Notes, folks!

Author's Notes: First up... RIP to the master of the Space Opera, Leiji Matsumoto. 1938-2023. Star Blazers and Captain Harlock and everyone else you created were everything to me as a child. You are amongst your beloved stars now. Mike and I grieve, and will miss you greatly. Never forgotten, sir.

Well, here we are, it's late February, and I'm predictably behind schedule. It's April in the Alexaverse, and I figure this timeline might match up with real life by next Christmas at this rate. A reader told me I need to clone myself so that one of me can be devoted to my writing without interruption. I don't think the world can handle more than one me, though, not to mention feed us both. I just need to win a lottery so that I can do this as I please without worrying about how I'm going to stuff food in my craw.

Now obviously I have crossed over the Alexaverse with the Time Rider series, since Becky and Nanu are now going to be guest stars in this little romp. But that doesn't mean that the DeBournes suddenly have access to time travel. At all. I've decided that the time stream can't handle having Mike rampaging through it, so if you want to know why this isn't happening, go read Time Rider 8, which should be posting right about now. I'll be keeping all the temporal shenanigans there, and away from this plot entirely. The Alexaverse gets crazy enough.

Go Google 'Nibbles the Mouse gif' if you want to know what Nanu looks like when she's hungry.

I added in the mini-story with Paige to provide some contrast to the fairy-tale aspect of Alex and Alexa's lives. This is fiction, after all. And while I have no doubt that there are indeed people out there who are related and very happily in love, unfortunately, Paige's incest reality is far more common. I'm just trying to find little ways to keep it real for our couple, let them know what they're up against in a world that is very hurt.

Yes, Alex is named after his father's computer cluster, not just the character from Beowulf. It's an absolutely epic name, though, you have to admit. Alexander Orion Dayraven DeBourne has a wonderful ring to it. And you heard what Alexa's names are. Talk about poetic...

Yes, you can really mess someone up by fucking around with the rhodopsin in their eyes. Don't try this at home, kiddies.

Jenny continues to be a source of chaos and fun. As you've no doubt concluded, she is prone to partying a little too hard on occasion. Expect her to not learn this lesson any time soon. She's nearly fifty, after all. To quote George Takei, 'If you're not grown up by the time you're fifty, you don't have to.'.

After the next Mike & Karen chapter, the posse arrives, opening new arcs and stories for us. If you like Lisa, Janet, and Mona, they're all about to get a lot of love, each with their own miniseries. I hope you enjoy.

Miranda knows a lot more than she lets on, clearly. Now you can see where Karen gets it from.

Once this and TR8 have been posted, next up is the premiere of my story 714 Bridle Path, which concerns the staff at Blackwell Manor. That first chapter takes place in the week following this and TR8, so keep an eye out for it.

I'd better finish TR8, so that this can all hit the e-waves. Lots to do.

Have a lovely February, everyone. Stay safe, and enjoy the spring.

Keep your stick on the ice!

- Management

***

A study hall, 1987...

Karen was sitting in a comfy chair, reading a lovingly worn copy of Spenser's The Faerie Queene, while Lisa, Janet, and Mona sat nearby, doing their own studying.

A shadow suddenly loomed in front of her.

"Gordon..." said a deep and dire voice, sending chills down her spine. She closed the book and stayed very still, not daring to look up. Her friends all remained in their chairs, looking rather cowed.

"With me. Now..." Mike said, snapping and pointing at the door. The sound of the snap was loud enough that Lisa flinched and squeaked.

Knowing better than to disobey, Karen quietly got up and walked toward the egress, followed by the titan blond student. The study hall was deafeningly quiet in their absence. Anyone could hear a pin drop, or another student's heart beating.

Mona, Janet, and Lisa all looked at one another for some seconds before getting up and hurrying out of the room to follow their friends.

They caught up with them in the basement of the Science Faculty building, just as a very stern Mike was unlocking the door to his so-called 'office'. A subdued Karen was standing nearby, saying nothing. What on earth was going on here?

He pointed into the office while looking at her, and she dutifully walked by him. Still confused, the three girls piled in after the pair, seeing that Mike had already made her sit in his chair. Karen still hadn't said a word.

"Turn it on," he ordered her.

Karen took a breath and flipped the switch, activating the circuits as well as the Ghostbusters noise. Mere seconds passed before the Airwolf music began, but the girls all frowned upon hearing it.

They'd been expecting the track they'd heard before, but this time, the now-familiar music was being played on several cellos. It seemed out of place in this dark, dingy little prison cell of a room.

"Gordon..." Mike said, looking down at her.

She drew another breath and began explaining, using her hands enough that the French Canadian in her was obvious. "I... I appreciated what you were doing with the song, DeBourne, but speaking candidly, it was terrible. I had to do something about it. So I recorded myself playing the song, overdubbing eight times, and then I came down here and installed my version over the other file so that it played when you booted up. It is much nicer, you must admit."

"How did you get in my room, and into my computer?" he asked levelly. There was no way she could outrun him, and he could squash her head like a grape if she didn't comply with an answer.

"The lock to the room was easy enough, that was just a hairpin," she said finally. "As for your rig here, your password might have been complex for anyone else, but since I'm a mathematical physics major, passwords are also within my field of cryptography."

She looked up at him pointedly. "Since you're over in Theoretical, it's not exactly within your wheelhouse, is it?"

Touché.

"And there are only so many coded ways that one can turn 'Walter Marks Is A Nasty Little Munchkin' into an encrypted password," she continued. "You're not that unpredictable, DeBourne."

"You also rearranged my models," Mike complained, pointing at his limited edition plastic kits.

"I needed to," Karen replied simply. "From a spectral point of view, they were a nightmare. Not only are they now arranged around your room in a colour order, but I even managed to get the dates of their premieres on Japanese television correct."

"Gordon," Mike sighed, pulling his hand down his face. "What am I going to do with you?"

Why couldn't everyone be sane and sensible like him? Especially Princess here? Why did she have to be such a pain in the ass when she was awake?

"If it makes you feel any better, I brought you some décor," she offered in a conciliatory tone, holding something out to him.

Mike and the girls all gaped at what she was displaying.

From then on, the shining golden Aztec death mask hung on the wall directly over his primary monitor, replacing Gaiking as the centerpiece of his office. Mike's own little kingdom.

He hoped Gordon never stopped being crazy.

***

(One last note- you can find 'Airwolf Eight Cellos' on the Tube of You, if you want to hear my inspiration for what Karen did to Mike's computer.)