Chapter 20

"Hank, how bad is it at home?" Jean asked. It was early evening, and the four of them were sitting in the kitchen at the Flanders home.

"Bad. Dad is just gone. He eats, if you stick something in front of him, and he keeps himself sort of clean, but that's it. He sits in his office all day and pretends he's up to something, but he's just fiddling. I think if I wasn't around, he'd be dead."

"That's TERRIBLE!" Jean exclaimed. "Who is cleaning up? Who is cooking? Who is doing the shopping?"

"Me."

"Aren't you running on your learner's permit?" Toby asked.

"Yep. If they catch me, I'm screwed," Hank admitted.

"Can you hire help?" Jean asked.

"Dad wouldn't lift a finger. It'd be February, maybe. I'm hoping he'll jumpstart when football camp gets close, but..." Hank shook his head.

"Do you have money?"

"I get a bit from him, here and there," Hank grunted. "There's some in the bank, and he's not burning any. I have to go through the bills, because he is only good for signing the checks." He sighed. "I am SO tired of french-bread pizza..."

"You'll eat here tonight," Jean insisted. "And I'll pack something for your father."

"That'd be GREAT!" Hank exclaimed. He was thrilled to death!

He was still thrilled when Jean presented him with grilled salmon and asparagus spears and macaroni and cheese; he ate two helpings. Further discussion led to Jean packing Hank and Rick and Toby in the car for a look at the Garber residence.

It was as bad as Hank said it was -- maybe worse. And Coach was sitting in his office with the lights off despite the fact that it was near sundown when they got there. "Dad, come out of there!" Hank yelled. "Mrs. Flanders brought supper!"

"What?" Martin Garber stuck his head through the door. "We're not set up for company!"

"Well we got 'em!" Hank replied. "Get a move on and wash your hands -- I'm gonna put it on the table!"

"I'll eat in here..."

"No you won't! I'm not throwing this away in the morning!" Hank ranted. "Let's go, Coach! Make the field!"

Martin hit the bathroom and washed his face and hands and ran his fingers through his overgrown flat top. There was no time to shave... One of his son's friend's mothers had brought him some dinner -- some nice middle-aged lady. Well, he could deal with some nice middle-aged lady...

The perky redhead in the halter top and Bermuda shorts he found in the kitchen didn't match 'middle-aged matron' for a description. "Men!" she was complaining to Hank, "There is NO WAY one can keep a house without an extensive WRITTEN schedule and frequent inspections! They just don't understand clean and orderly..."

Martin found himself looking at the flow of her calves as she stood on tiptoe to reach something in a cabinet. 'I bet she runs,' he thought. 'She'd be KILLER on a tennis court!'

Then she turned to him and smiled -- and she might as well have hit him with a ten-pound sledgehammer -- right in the chest! "You must be Hanks father -- I'm afraid all I've ever heard you called is 'Coach' or 'Dad'..." She came forward and extended her hand.

Martin tried to get his brain working again. She was like Holly -- and she wasn't. Certainly, her hair came closer to matching his than it did Holly's rich brown. The eyes were different... She was even smaller! Such cute freckles... "Uh, Martin," he croaked.

"What a wonderful name! Learned, yet masculine... I'm Jean Flanders -- Rick's mother."

"Pleased to meet you..." 'Jeez, you'd think I was fourteen! Holly would be FURIOUS!' But then, Holly wasn't there to corral his wandering eyes any more... That brought him back under control. "I understand you brought me a meal. Thank you for it, but Hank really shouldn't have..."

"What? Told me that two unhappy bachelors were eating way too many pizzas?" Jean sparked. "How are you going to lead the football team to victory if you're lugging around forty pounds of pizza crust?"

Martin grimaced. "When you put it THAT way..." He looked down at himself -- he was a WRECK! How on God's green earth was he going to get ready for camp?

Jean blew on by with, "Thank God you have a microwave. Go sit down; it's going to get cold."

Martin did as he was told -- there just didn't seem to be any alternative. He sat down at the dining table while the female whirlwind in the kitchen gathered things, asking Hank questions about where they were and then mostly having to hunt for herself, anyway, when he expressed ignorance. Martin watched and listened and didn't participate -- largely because he was even more ignorant than Hank. Still, it was maybe five minutes before a steaming plate appear in front of him. "What do you want to drink?" Jean asked.

"I..." Martin glanced up at Hank. "What have we got?"

Hank shrugged. "Diet soda?"

"Fine..." Martin dug into the plate; it smelled too good to worry about outside issues.

Meanwhile, Jean was talking, wandering around. "You two need a housekeeper -- this place is a mess! No offense..."

"None taken," Martin mumbled. "We haven't worked out the coverage since..." He locked up at that point.

Jean's eyes were full of sympathy. "Yes, I understand..." She thought a moment. "Look, I can come by every once in a while... I work three afternoons a week, but I'm free late mornings just about any time..."

"I..." He looked into her eyes and the refusal wouldn't come. "I'd have to pay you."

"Well, okay -- I could use a little extra..." Jean admitted.

"How much?" Martin asked.

"I really don't know..." She thought about it. "Seven or eight dollars an hour?"

"I can probably do that for a couple of hours, once or twice a week..." Martin agreed.

Jean looked around. "That might do it for maintenance, but initially..."

"We'll work something out." Martin saw THAT coming -- and knew she was right! "Maybe a piece rate? One hundred dollars?"

"Done!" Jean replied. "I have the whole day tomorrow..."

"Get her for a dinner once a week!" Hank prodded.

Martin turned to him, "Do you think I'm made of money?"

"I'll see what I can do," Jean interjected. "You two aren't eating right. Worst case, you could come over to our house once in a while..."

Jean was right; Martin inhaled his dinner. Hank was thoroughly pleased; it was the most animated that Dad had been in weeks! On the other hand, he wasn't as pleased later when his Dad insisted that they do some things in preparation for Mrs. Flanders' return the next morning at ten a.m. "We can't let her do EVERYTHING!" Martin insisted.

They were picking up the living room when Martin mused, "She wasn't what I expected..."

"Hot, isn't she? You should see her in a swimsuit!"

"Hank! That's a friend of yours' mother!"

"She's still a woman. We sort of had that talk today," Hank pointed out. "Just because they're somebody's mom doesn't mean they're, like, untouchable. There is even an acronym for them -- MILF."

"What does it stand for?"

"Mom I'd Like to F..."

"Awright, that's enough! I get it!" Martin growled. "I can't imagine her playing around, actually. She's obviously married..."

Hank hid a smile. "She's a widow, Dad. Rick's dad died about four years ago. Heart attack."

"Oh." No wonder she'd seemed sympathetic... Other thoughts went through the back of his mind, but he quashed them. "Well..." He dropped it -- no need to egg Hank on...

Back at Rick's, Toby and Rick compared notes. "Coach seemed to be up and running..."

Rick nodded. "I think seeing Mom was good for him."

"Yeah, I bet he shaves and everything tomorrow!" Toby grinned. "Maybe Jean can get him to the point where Option Three is feasible!"

"Yeah, maybe..."

"What are you two up to?" Jean asked. Her radar indicated that whatever it was, it was probably no good...

"We were just talking about how you apparently gave Coach a jump-start..." Toby said mildly.

"Don't make too much of it," Jean replied. "We took him by surprise."

"Well, it would help if we had him as a resource," Toby insisted. "If you get him looking at women again, we might be able to get him motivated. That would help a LOT of people, not just the group!"

"What do you want me to do?" Jean snapped. "Clean house topless?"

"No," Toby replied, not allowing himself to be baited. "Just don't go to great lengths to be businesslike. Besides, I think you like him."

"I have sympathy for him," Jean retorted. "He's had a bad blow." She looked sad. "I know how that is."

Toby nodded. "Let's go upstairs." It was time he fulfilled his duties as the man of the house...

Rick watched them go, grimacing; if things went the way they were headed right now, he and Toby would be embarrassingly related and he still didn't know how he was going to handle that...

"Why don't you take it easy, Adele?"

"Take it easy! You guys have my twelve-year-old sucking dicks!" Adele ranted into the phone.

"No," Louise replied, "She did that all by herself -- we just helped her. And we TOLD her we didn't think it was a good idea, too -- but we invested a lot of money in making a place for her to do it safely..."

"But it's wrong!"

"Of COURSE it's wrong!" Louise snapped, her patience exhausted. "But there are shades of grey, here... She was GOING to do it ANYWAY -- how would you like to hear about how she approached the little boy up the street -- from his mother? Or, how about this? She picks out a nice older boy -- who has thirteen friends who are NOT so nice and don't stop at lip service?" She paused, waiting for the scenarios to sink in. "As it was, she couldn't have been safer -- there were a half-dozen other women keeping an eye on her, and the boys don't know who she did and who she didn't do!"

"She's being exposed to sex at an early age..." Adele puffed.

"Look, she knew this, so I'm sure YOU do," Louise retorted. "Where you guys came from, they had day care at the middle school because girls her age were MOTHERS! As it was, she saw a couple of dicks -- but she didn't see anybody having sex. She didn't see her sister having sex -- or anyone else; we had her outside, swimming, with another girl to watch her. It's really about the best we could do..."

"You COULD have JUST SAID NO!"

"And YOU could have found her in bed with her big brother!" Louise rasped. "THAT's how this started! Now cut it out!"

"Shit." Adele groused. She wasn't going to win this, no matter what. Given what she knew, Louise was right. Okay, so, it was wrong -- but there were worse things -- LOTS of them. "All right -- so what am I supposed to do?"

"Take her to the clubhouse and let her do it there, where she's safe," Louise counseled. "She'll grow out of it -- particularly if she's doing nothing else. I don't know about you, but for me, cock sucking is someone you do for a guy you want dick from. If she doesn't get any of that, she'll get bored..."

"Lord, I hope so!" Adele exclaimed.

"Well, in the unlikely event that she doesn't, she's STILL safer there," Louise replied. "How are YOU doing?"

"I'm a little sore, but I guess I can't complain," Adele replied. "No, I KNOW I can't complain -- that was something!"

"There's more where that came from," Louise reminded her. "And Alyssa?"

"I have to admit, she's been pretty low-key. I don't know how she feels about the sex end of it, though."

"Let Damian do his thing," Louise advised. "He's practiced it and he's pretty good at it. He'll keep her on the run until she's good and settled down."

"And the sex?"

"She was doing Dirk, too, Baby. And I'm sure she's noticed the difference. Maybe she'll pretend that it's a fate worse than death, but I bet she spreads 'em, anyway," Louise advised. "Get off of them -- it's too damned late and you don't have a leg to stand on -- and they know it! Quit wasting your time and driving a wedge between you and them."

"I guess you're right," Adele agreed. "When are you guys going to get together again?"

"We don't do formal functions or anything, Baby. If you like, I'll call you if I hear anything -- but if you get tired of waiting, call me and I'll ask someone to stop over. Or you can come here..." Louise's voice took on an amused tone. "Itchy already?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Oh, I have to tell you -- Fred isn't involved. I am, and the boys are, but Fred knows nothing -- and it needs to stay that way."

"Oh? Why?" Adele's voice reflected some disapproval. Married women playing around on their husbands...

"There are probably a dozen reasons, Baby, but the biggest is that we're done. He started it, too, but he's not doing as well. And if I told you some of the stuff he IS doing, well, you'd be pretty surprised..."

"I see." Adele had met Fred, and that mild exposure had Adele having second thoughts about censuring Louise; "Well, I'll be careful, then."

"Okay, Baby, do you need anything right now?"

"Another day to heal, I guess," Adele chuckled ruefully.

"Take your time --it's not going anywhere. If you want something, we can probably get it. Don't be embarrassed to ask, either, because some of the members are downright kinky -- okay?"

"Uh, sure..." Adele said uncertainly.

"Don't make me come for you, now," Louise admonished, "and you do NOT want anyone to catch you with Dirk!"

"I won't. Good night, Louise!"

"Good night, Baby." Louise turned to Damian, "Okay, I think she's settled down. But we're probably going to need to send somebody over there in a couple of days to remind her of the up-side..." Louise was thankful that Fred had gone out, giving them the privacy to make the call.

"We'll find somebody," Damian grunted. "I never thought when we joined this group that there would ever be too much pussy..."

Louise nodded. "Randy doesn't help the racial balance, either. Beth doesn't care, but I'm not so sure about Candace -- and Jean is more or less hiding. You boys can fuck Adele and Alyssa, but..."

"Yeah, well, when we bring in Alyssa's girlfriends, it'll add a few flavors. And the guys are interviewing Hank..."

"The red-headed kid?" Louise asked. "Coach Garber's son?"

"Yeah."

"He might be a tough sell with some of the girls..." Louise mused. Hank wasn't quite ugly, but he looked kind of raw... hard and sinewy, maybe.

"Not if they get a look at his dick," Terence grunted, "and he's always on, too."

"THAT might help," Louise agreed. "All right -- I've got to get ready for work." She and Beth had the eleven to seven for the next several days. "Try to stay out of trouble, you two." Undoubtedly she was going to be doing without for a while...

Tuesday morning, Jean was up and dressed and out the door at eight for the ladies' coffee. Toby staggered down a bit later; Rick gave him a jaundiced eye. "Jean's enough for any guy, all by herself," Toby muttered. "But I have a half-dozen other places to be, too. We've got to get Hank on board."

"She looked pretty feisty to me this morning," Rick observed. "Did she keep you up?"

Toby nodded. "Once isn't enough. Since she turned up pregnant, TWICE isn't enough! She's like the Energizer Bunny!"

"What are you gonna do?" Rick asked. "Marry her?"

"I dunno. An idea just suggested itself, but I have to look into it -- and you might not like it any better than having me around... Let's get on the horn to Rain Man -- we need to work on Hank's initiation."

"Better wait a bit -- he's probably not up," Rick counseled. "Want some cereal?"

Louise and Beth came to coffee in their scrubs, direct from their shift. Jean was complaining when they got there, "The boys are driving up the membership too fast! Every time is a risk -- I had to expose myself to Hank Garber yesterday to prove they were serious..."

"Expose yourself?" Candace asked.

"As a group member. Since we have to blackmail him, obviously, he was worried that it is all a ruse to get him over a barrel!" She mused a moment. "What we NEED is a couple of older guys, like his dad. The poor man..."

Candace and Louise eyed one another. "Well, we would need blackmail material on HIM, too, remember," Louise admonished. "Until then, you better keep your jeans zipped."

"It's not like that," Jean sighed. "My heart goes out to him, that's all. He's broken -- and it's sad. He must have really loved his wife."

"Well, we need more males of one type or another," Louise retorted. "Adele isn't going to be easy to handle until she gets broken in some, and Alyssa is going to be another one who won't just need the occasional fuck -- one session with Damian won't settle her down forever."

"So more is less..." Beth groused. "Again."

When Jean arrived at nine-thirty, in jeans and a short-sleeved buttoned blouse over a tank top, with her hair under a scarf and a mop and bucket in her hand, Martin Garber was up and shaved and moving about, drinking coffee and picking up things. Hank was helping, but flashed Jean a smile, nonetheless. "I called the guy about the air conditioning," Martin apologized, "but he hasn't called back. Maybe you want to wait..." It was hot, inside and out, already.

"I have the time today -- I'll see what I can do," Jean replied. "Besides, this place is an emergency." Martin shrugged and, bemused, let her get on with it.

When Rick and Teela called a couple of hours later preparatory to picking up Hank, though, she was singing a different tune. "It's murder down here! No air conditioning! Ask Teela to go through my drawers and pick up another tank top and the lightest shorts she can find -- I've sweated through this stuff!"

Teela got on the phone. "Do you need help?"

"I couldn't ask you to, Dear -- I'm getting paid for it."

"That's okay -- it'll give us time to talk about our favorite boy..." Teela chuckled. She and Jean had hit it off instantly, and Rick was something they had in common...

"If you're not wearing something really light, don't even think about it!" Jean cautioned. "This isn't fun!"

"Okay, no problem."

Martin came down from his office a couple of minutes later. "How about a fan, for God's sake?"

Jean had dispensed with the blouse -- AND her bra -- and the tank top she was wearing was plastered to her sweaty chest, defining her nipples clearly. "You're gonna kill yourself!" Martin added, thinking, 'God, she's hot!' Martin was a sucker for a sweaty woman, and Jean was soaked from the waist up -- and the rest, covered by her jeans, was probably as bad...

"Well, it wouldn't hurt," Jean admitted. "I've sent for dry clothing. I'm going to try to finish the downstairs bath before the kids get here."

"Let me fight that window, open, at least," Martin offered, and strode in. The window DID require a fight; Martin was sweating heavily before it gave in and shuddered up the tracks. Jean thanked him and he went off to fix a pitcher of instant tea for her to drink. "At the rate you're sweating, I'll need to go out for Gatorade..." he laughed.

Ten minutes later he was back with a tall, ice-filled glass and a pitcher. "Here you go..." He plopped on the toilet; Jean was standing in the tub scrubbing soap scum off the tiles.

Jean took the glass and took a long pull from it, "Now I'll just sweat more..."

"It's good for you," Martin replied, thinking, 'Besides, if that top gets any wetter...' He surprised himself; he couldn't imagine being interested in any other woman as recently as the previous afternoon, and now here he was lusting after the sweaty mother of one of his son's friends -- whom he had hired as a housekeeper. Given the way sexual harassment lawsuits were going these days, he needed to be totally hands off -- as if it were an issue... He refilled the glass and turned away. "The pitcher will be in the fridge," he announced.

Rick and Teela got there a half-hour later. Teela was in a halter and hot pants -- and had a similar outfit for Jean. "Tank tops are too confining," she announced, "You need as much skin showing as possible in this sauna!"

"Sweetheart, I can't wear these!" Jean objected.

"Why not? You KNOW we're the same size..."

"But I'm nowhere NEAR eighteen!"

"With YOUR looks? Who can tell?" Teela giggled.

"Well, the crow's feet give me away..."

"...From about eight inches!" Teela finished. "Go change! You're soaked!"

Since she had no choice, Jean complied. While in the bathroom, she took the opportunity to wipe off the worst of the sweat with a cool washcloth, too, so she felt better. "Okay, on to the kitchen!" she announced, on her return. The next stop was the refrigerator. "At least it's cool, standing in front of this..." she mused. "Dear, you REALLY don't have to hang out with me!"

"I want to," Teela replied. "Rick is bonding with Hank or something, and I wanted to spend some time with you, anyway."

"Well, all right -- it's your funeral!" Jean started pulling old food out of the refrigerator. "What are the boys up to?"

"Planning Hank's initiation," Teela replied. "I guess that the options aren't all that great. How's Coach?"

"Well, Hank seems to think he's perked up, some," Jean replied. "If I didn't kill it by looking and smelling like I'd taken a bath in a sewer."

"Anything is better than nothing, I think," Teela opined.

"Well, it's not like I'm trying to get him into bed or anything," Jean replied. "If he sees a woman around the house a few times, maybe he'll perk up. I know how it is to lose the love of your life. In a few weeks, though, it will be all old hat, so if he hasn't jump-started by then..."

"Why aren't YOU hunting?" Teela asked. "You know, what you're doing... You need to hut down a guy your age before the whole world figures out you're preggers..."

"Shh! What if someone hears you!" Jean hissed. "I'm fine with who I have..."

"You CAN'T marry him, and he CAN'T support you!" Teela retorted. "Do you want to do this thing alone?"

"If I have to," Jean replied. "It'll be all right. In a few years..."

"He'll be making an entry-level wage and you'll be forty!" Teela retorted.

"What am I going to do? Bar-hop? And then go 'Whoops'?" Jean fired back. "Anyone I should happen to run into would have to hear about it fairly early -- I couldn't lie about it."

"All right -- but you're saddling yourself with another two decades of motherhood -- and what happens if..."

"Let's not go there," Jean insisted. "So what are they looking at for Hank?"

"Well, the options are unappetizing. I understand why we have to have something to keep them quiet, but damn! Dogs were easy compared to this stuff -- at least for a guy..." Teela shook her head.

"That bad?"

"Let's see... Gay sex -- Hank isn't thrilled. A blowjob from a twelve-year-old girl. Beside all that, Option Three is really great!"

"Option Three?"

"We run an underage girl in front of Coach and see if he bites..."

"Oh, God! Like THAT is gonna happen!" Jean rolled her eyes.

"Well, if you were to soften him up..." Teela suggested slyly.

"You're oversimplifying things," Jean insisted. "Some people have character -- personal honor. They don't go howling after the first girl to twitch her tail in front of them -- even if they ARE male!"

"I realize it's a project," Teela replied, "but we need them BOTH! Wouldn't it be nice to have an older guy in the group? I've been thinking about getting a dispensation from Rick and seeing if I can get a rise from Coach, myself!"

"I don't think Rick would be too happy about that," Jean opined.

"Well, maybe, but if I don't and Sally doesn't, we have to use one of the new girls -- and there is no telling whether any of them are going to have the proper attitude, going in..."

"Maybe we can get him to come in, eventually," Jean sighed. "I don't think we should rush it. For one thing, Coach is a teacher, which is a position of trust. We need to make sure the new girls aren't a danger to him. I'd love to see him recovering and we CERTAINLY need another man in the group, but if things were to blow up, they would come down on him like a ton of bricks! The boys are pretty safe; we would end up taking the hit -- but someone in a position of trust like that?"

"Well, Hank doesn't want to do anything gay, and I don't blame him," Teela retorted. "That leaves us doing a video of little Brie sucking him off. From what I hear through the grapevine, Adele had a cow when she heard about Brie and the glory holes! What is she gonna say to this? Besides, we promised Brie anonymity -- this would defeat everything we've done..."

"If we wait, something will turn up," Jean said confidently.

"Like what?" Teela demanded. "Those six girls are gonna want another run-in with Dirk any day! We need to bring them in -- and we need MEN to do that! Damian can't do it all!"

"I know, Dear -- but you're making assumptions! Let's say for example that we approached Coach directly and told all. If I was Coach, I'd think twice about joining a group that was about to basically suborn six teenage girls -- whether it is for their own good or not!"

"If we TOLD him that they were so desperate for sex they were doing it with a dog..." Teela insisted.

"Certainly, those are extenuating circumstances, Dear -- but maybe we should just leave them alone? We should withdraw Dirk, of course..."

"And leave them with nothing? Or each other?" Teela retorted.

"Sooner or later, some of them will find ways to attract men..."

"Oh, like YOU have?"

"HEY!"

"Well? Look, I've seen desperate," Teela insisted, "and they're desperate. I guarantee that three of them are going to be HAPPY to become members -- and I'd do odds on the OTHER three!"

"I'll believe it when I see it, Dear. Toss this, will you? What was the expiration date? 1492? Ugh..."

Martin Garber sat at his desk, dumbfounded. What he'd just heard was, well, unbelievable!

The girls hadn't noticed, but the house was old -- built around the turn of the century. When the heating plant was put in, instead of expensive ductwork, the then homeowners had adopted the simple expedient of putting large floor grates in the second floor rooms and letting the heat rise through them. Later, duct fans had been placed in those passages to assist in moving the air. When the air conditioning plant was put in, it went into the attic, since cold air tended to fall -- and the reversible fans could be used to even temperatures out anywhere in the house. One side-effect, however, was that if those fans weren't running, you could overhear conversations taking place in the room above -- or below...

Martin was habituated to tuning out such things -- but this was women talking, and he was the subject of the conversation! Once sucked in, he couldn't help himself; he heard it all! He sat there, trying to break it down into bite-sized packages...

Jean was pregnant -- and working down there like a galley slave! Something would have to be done about THAT!

They all felt sorry for him -- which was extremely embarrassing.

There was a group of people out there somewhere of mixed ages and sexes, and Jean and the girl -- whose name escaped him -- were members. And they were offering Hank membership -- and trying to come up with ways to offer HIM membership, too! And at least one of the purposes of the group was to provide sex to its members...

Apparently, the father of Jean's child was ALSO a member, but young -- perhaps a teenager. Jean seemed resigned to living with the consequences, but no one else was, apparently.

The other things -- girls apparently having sex with dogs and such -- were just too incredible to believe; Martin was going to adopt a 'wait and see' attitude about that. But he had a teenage girl downstairs who claimed to be seriously considering having sex with him, just so he could join this group -- which apparently was desperately short of male members at present...

First things first; he got on the phone to his cooling contractor -- and when he didn't answer, three others, until someone DID -- and got an appointment that afternoon for a repair visit. Then he headed downstairs.

They were still talking; Martin walked in to find them both on the floor on their hands and knees, trying to clean it where the refrigerator had been by hand -- two butts gently swaying in counterpoint to the elbow grease they were applying, in shorts that left a good deal of ass cheek showing from the rear. Given that apparently at least one of them was thinking of having sex with him, it was worth a moment to stop and admire the view; in fact, it was downright amazing how much that piece of information energized him!

"You two need to go on break," he announced himself by saying. "I have a promise from the air conditioning guy that he'll be here by one o'clock. I can't have you killing yourselves -- what if one of you was pregnant or something and got heat stroke?" That was pretty sneaky, but it would get the point across...

It got them, too -- the pair turned around and regarded him with wide eyes. "Wh-what?" Jean got out.

Martin pretended to misunderstand. "Which part? The air conditioner repair or heat stroke?"

"Ummm, forget it," Jean said hurriedly. "Maybe we'll, um, go get some lunch or something." She was already sweaty in the new outfit, but hadn't soaked it yet... On the other hand, she was dressed like a sixteen-year-old... and Coach Garber was poker-faced, but he was taking his time looking! "C'mon, Teela, let's go wash up..."

Martin cocked his head, looking at Teela. "Should I know you?"

"Well, I'm in mufti, Coach," Teela replied. "Usually, I do Goth..."

"Oh. OH!" NOW he recognized her! "You're dating Rick, then?"

"Yes." Teela dimpled -- something Martin had never seen.

"Well, congratulations!" Martin really couldn't think of anything ELSE to say...

"Thank you!" Teela all but curtsied.

'And she all but offered to have sex with me...' Martin mused. "Do you know where the boys went?" he asked.

"Rick will know -- want me to call him?" Teela asked.

"If you would."

"Rick?" Teela asked, after dialing. "Where are you guys?"

"Lon's," Rick replied. "We've got just about all the guys here." That included the Carters and Randy; while the cell system extended to women, the boys hadn't implemented it yet. "We're trying to figure out what to do..." Randy and Damian had related Adele's shit-fit; they were racking their brains trying to come up with alternatives.

"Could I speak to Hank?" Martin asked.

The request was relayed, and Teela gave up her phone. Martin said, "Hank, we need to talk about some things that have just surfaced while I was digging around in my office. I'd like to hear from several of your friends, too -- do you think you can get them to come here? We can do pizza or something..."

Hank frowned. "Sure, Dad. When?"

"Pretty quick, actually. I know you're out and I'm sure it's nicer wherever you are, but the air conditioner guy is coming, so I can't leave. And I REALLY need to iron this out!"

"Okay, one sec..." Hank turned to the others, after carefully muting Rick's phone. "Dad's invited everybody to the house for pizza -- like now. He wants to talk to us. Something is up -- would the girls have put the moves on him or something?"

"Mom? Uh uh," Rick denied. "Teela, maybe, but I doubt it -- not without talking it over with me, first."

"Look, if you guys don't want to, that's okay -- but he's my dad -- I HAVE to go," Hank sighed.

Rick looked around. "If there are a bunch of us, maybe it won't get too ugly..."

"Awright," Terence agreed. "I know Coach -- he ain't scary." Damian shrugged. Randy nodded, as did Toby. Lon shrugged and nodded, too.

"Gonna be expensive, Dad," Hank related, "there are seven of us!"

"Hit a store for cold drinks on the way," Martin directed. "I'll reimburse."

"Okay, see you soon!" Hank hung up.

Martin wasn't fooled; his son knew that something was up. Even the girls were looking suspicious. Well, that was life... Here," he said, producing forty dollars, "You two go and have a nice lunch somewhere, and don't come back until two-thirty. With any luck, the air conditioner mechanic AND the boys will be gone again by then..."

"I can't take that," Jean argued.

"You can and you will," Martin insisted. "This has gone beyond our agreement -- I didn't tell you that you were going to have to spend a day in the outer reaches of Hell." He put his hands on each of their sweaty backs and pushed them toward the door, "Now, go! Have a good time!"

Jean and Teela found themselves standing on the porch. "Pushy isn't he?" Jean muttered. "Something is up."

"Well, with any luck, we can find out whatever it is from Rick, later," Teela replied. "In the meantime, where to?"

"I'll think of something."