Warnings: Netiquette violations: language and adult situations (lemon scented)

Disclaimer: All characters relating to Jonny Quest are trademarks of and copyrighted
by Hanna-Barbera. All characters relating to the X-Files belong to Chris Carter. The
Three Stooges are the property of Comedy III Productions.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the
author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental with the exception of one
former MLer whose name I am using without her permission. This piece was not written
with the intent of publication or distribution. Any compensation that the author
receives will be strictly in the form of comments received by its readers. I retain
ownership only to the characters Wilhelmina Stoker Harkness, Terry "TC" (Terrance
Christopher) Caines a.k.a. "Top Cat" Caines and other miscellaneous Intelligence-One
agents. See end of story for a list of acknowledgments. This is strictly the work of
someone’s very vivid imagination and nothing more. No profits are being made from
this story.

Any credits omitted are unintentional.

                  "Cruel and Unusual Punishment"

                       "KILLER QUEEN"

Hi, we have never been formally introduced. I’m Intelligence-One Agent Wilhelmina
Stoker Harkness, but just call me Will or Harkness. My life has been a long, strange
trip. Of course, my journey is not over . . . not by a long shot, its just beginning.
Perhaps you’re a little curious about my family---well, I’ll tell you they make the "The
Addams Family" look like "Ozzie and Harriet." To escape from my home life I was in
every club I could get into during school. By the time I was sixteen I was a certified
diver and a licensed small aircraft pilot. My parents encouraged my suicidal tendencies
by allowing me to join the local gun and archery club. I was always the strange child in
my family. Maybe I’ll tell you more about them one day.

Anyway to be brief, I ran away from home and joined the Army at eighteen. There I
became one of the first female Army Rangers. Intelligence-One recruited me as a field
operative. I was one of the original twelve recruits and the only female. Hey, if it didn't
work out I could always tuck my tail between my legs and go home to become a
mortician at the family’s funeral parlor.

Trust me, it wasn’t my looks but my abilities that I-1 was after. I’m very plain,
unremarkable, and I blend easily into the scenery. I am not exactly the glamour girl type
that I-1 hires these days. I know more about ordnance and electronics than I do of eye
shadow and designer fashions.

As I stated earlier, Intelligence-One recruited 12 field operatives. Four of us were Army
Rangers, Bob, Glenn, Daryl (in my heart I will always think of these guys as the 3
Stooges) and myself. The Marines yielded up two of its best, Charles and Terry (I’ve
known him since he was nine, and have always considered him the younger brother I
wish I had.)

From the Air Force came 3 fly boys; Al (only the BEST looking I-1 agent with his dark
brown hair and heart melting brown eyes), Scott, and Dave. Finishing our ranks were
three Navy SEALS, Alan, Roger "Race" Bannon, and Philip "Phil" Corven (who would
later become our boss). You know the deal, if I were to tell you everyone’s last name, I
would have to kill you. You already know Bannon and Corven so it doesn’t count for
them.

Several of the agents had families. Bob had three kids. Scott had recently married when
he joined the Agency. Dave was in the process of getting a divorce. Race Bannon’s
spouse was pregnant. My brief marriage ended in an annulment.

My closest friends at the Agency have always been Terry and Race Bannon. Terry
"TC" and Bannon are a lot alike; both are honest and trustworthy. We have had our
share of mad-capped adventures as well as hair-raising escapades together on our
assignments. I feel very comfortable around them, and there is little I can’t or wouldn’t
discuss with them. The few things I couldn’t talk to them about, I usually discussed
with Estella, Race’s wife or at least I did until they divorced. It really bothered me, the
divorce. She was a hoot, hot blooded, and just what Bannon needed.

Phil Corven eventually received a promotion to director. He was good at politics, not
the brown-nosing, butt-kissing kind. Phil is an excellent director.

The only time I honestly hated Phil Corven was seven years ago, case file number 0-37.
I qualified for the job. Intelligence-One needed an agent who could "bodyguard" the
only son of a research scientist. The research scientist and his work were important to
the US government, and people were afraid that if anything happened to the boy this
might change his father’s allegiance. That was the official story.

The unofficial story was to watch the scientist, and if he became a "runaway" use the
boy to bring him back in line or eliminate both of them. I was confident I could do this.
They were looking for a bodyguard, and a tutor, and a housekeeper, and a lab
assistant. Phil told me it was down to two agents, Race Bannon and me. I entered
Corven’s office. He showed my slides of father and son.

The boy was the quintessential all American boy, blue eyes, blonde hair, and slightly
chubby cheeks. The father was strikingly handsome, red hair, beard and mustache,
with an air of sadness about him. I swallowed hard; I would guard Daddy’s body any
day. That’s when Phil Corven dropped the bomb on me.

He was standing behind me . . . uncomfortably close. He leaned forward, whispering
gently in my ear as he flashed back to the slide of the boy. "Will, could you kill him?
Could you be the Shooter if we gave the word? Would you pull your service revolver
and place it against his temple while looking into his eyes and pull the trigger? Will,
would you?" He flipped to the father. "Will, what about him, all it would take is one
well-placed shot."

Corven was stroking my arm as he continued to flip back and forth through the slides.
He whispered in my ear, as if he were my lover and his words were words of passion.
"Would you be able to shoot them after a week, a month, a year, five years, ten years?
Would we have to send someone after you as well? Would the hunter become the
hunted?" Thankfully there were two deputy directors in the room with us, or I would
have slugged him. "Will, would you, could you?" He continued to flash through the
slides.

Finally, he settled on a shot of father and son together. "Will, tell me. Talk to me, be
honest with me." Each word crooned so softly into my ear. Then he was yelling it at me
while pointing his finger at the slide.

I cringed. The only thing I could say was, "NO!" Race Bannon got the job. Was I
jealous? NO! Did I envy him? NO! I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes if it ever became a
choice in loyalty. That was seven years ago.

Acknowledgments:

"Killer Queen" performing artist Queen

 
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"Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"DANGER ZONE"

 Corven called Junior Agent Jeff Robinson and me into his office. There
was
a situation regarding file 0-37 that needed additional agents. Phil
explained that someone had kidnapped Doctor Benton Quest. I couldn't
wait to
rib Bannon about this.

 The reason Phil had called us in was that Bannon needed back up and a
temporary bodyguard for the Quest boys. OH, JOY! I was going to get to
play
baby-sitter while Jr. G-man got to be back up for Race. It turned out
to be
the other way around; Jeff turned out in his suit and me in fatigues.

 We boarded a jet with Phil Corven headed towards the Quest's Maine
compound. Who had kidnapped Benton Quest was a mystery. No ransom
demands or
notes were ever received.

 An electronic tracking device on Doctor Quest had pinpointed his
location,
a small island chain in the Pacific Ocean. Race and I flew to an
unnamed
island. From there a yacht took us to within 25-30 miles of the island
where
the Doctor was being held. We were to go in, get Doctor Quest, and get
out
of there.

 Bannon and I used an 18-foot cigarette boat to get from the yacht to
the
island. While Race and I reconnoitered the island for the best place to
go
ashore, we discovered that there was a natural reef that surrounded it
completely. The cigarette had a shallow draft, but not shallow enough.
The
small emergency inflatable raft aboard the cigarette would have to
serve for
transporting us to and from the island.

 Once on the island it was a snap to get through the kidnappers'
defenses,
something that Bannon and I both felt was extremely weird. No one was
guarding the outer perimeter, and we hadn't seen any signs of a patrol.
Things were going just a little too easily.

 We found out why when we breached the kidnappers' headquarters and
located
Doctor Benton Quest. Race ended up firefighters' carrying a heavily
sedated
Doctor Quest back to the beach, leaving me to deal with any guards or
obstacles that we came across on our journey. When we reached the beach
we
discovered that someone had found our raft and holed it.

 Since Race was a former Navy SEAL, a one mile swim out to the other
boat
would be nothing for him. I was a good swimmer myself. The occupants of
the
island must have thought we wouldn't risk the swim with an unconscious
man.
Wrong! I broke down my assault rifle, throwing half into the jungle and
the
rest into the water. Race, stripped to his T-shirt and boxers, made a
harness out of our belts.

 After all this time in I-1 I had learned to dress in layers. I peeled
off
the outer layers, leaving on a tank top and running shorts. Race
laughed
about this as he neatly tied up our revolvers in the bundle of our
fatigues.
We managed our little nighttime swim without incident.

 We had made it. It was just a quick run to our awaiting pick-up boat.
The
mission was almost over, and things were going just too smoothly. We
had
given ourselves a three hour window in which to rescue Doctor Quest and
return to the yacht; so far it had only taken us a little over an hour.
Race
and I have both been on successful missions before, but none of them
were
the "cake walk" that this one was turning out to be---for some odd
reason
this made both of us nervous. When we reached our rendezvous point the
yacht
wasn't there. Things like this happen, when you're an I-1 agent you
always
go to plan B even if you don't have a Plan B. Race circled our boat
back so
that we could hide on a neighboring island.

 We couldn't stay out there on the open sea. Our enemy would be hunting
us.
We needed a place to hide. What better place to hide but the enemy's
back
door? We found three camouflage tarps in the boat. One tarp was used to
cover the cigarette boat. Race and I spread one of the remaining two
tarps
on the ground for us to sit on, the last tarp we fashioned into a
lean-to.

 Race suggested that we get Doctor Quest out of his wet clothes. It
would be
embarrassing to explain that we had rescued him, but he ended up dying
from
pneumonia. I worked on his shirt. After unbuttoning it, I lifted his
head
and shoulders so that he was leaning back against me.

 As I worked the wet shirt off I felt Bannon's eyes on me. "What?"

 "Why did you turn down 0-37?" Race asked.

 "I didn't turn down the case. Race, you know the better person got the
 job," I said as I struggled with the wet shirt.

 "Will, that isn't true." Race grunted as he tugged off one of the
Doctor's
shoes.

 "Corven couldn't trust me. I couldn't trust myself." Finally, I won
the
battle with the shirt.

 Race finished removing shoes and socks without another word. "Help me
with
his pants. Why couldn't Phil trust you? OK. Will, why couldn't you
trust
yourself?"

 "This is neither the time nor the place. Boy it's gotten cold. Race,
were
there any blankets in the boat?" I asked Bannon with a 'please tell me
there
are blankets in the boat' look.

 "No, but if you're cold come over here and I'll warm you up." He
delivered
that line with the patented Race Bannon leer.

 "No, thank you, Bannon. I'll just stay cold. How are we going to keep
Doctor Quest warm?" I asked as I briskly rubbed my hands up and down my
arms.

 Race laughed at me. "The same way I offered to warm you---body heat.
I'll
sleep on one side and you sleep on his other side. Come on Harkness;
don't
tell me you're afraid of sleeping next to an unconscious man?" Race
found
this amusing.

 "Don't be silly Bannon, I'm not afraid of either one of you," I glared
at
Race Bannon.

 "So, what is it going to be...conscious or unconscious?" Someone was
going
to end up in the middle, and Bannon and I were responsible for the
Doctor's
well being until we could get him home.

 I lay down beside Doctor Quest, putting what I hoped was a respectable
distance between us. Bannon smirked. "Goodnight, Will." Both Race and I
placed our revolvers and knives within easy reach as we settled down on
either side of Doctor Quest.

 I awoke with a start; an arm was thrown across my waist, and a man's
hairy
leg was thrown over mine. Rolling away and up, I gasped, only then
remembering where I was. I left our shelter in favor of a walk on the
beach.
I was lost in thought as I stared out at the sea.

 A hand fell on my left shoulder. I-1 training took over my response.
My
right hand around the wrist, my left on the upper arm, a shift in
weight,
the perfect classic throw. A familiar grunt followed by, "Damn! Will,
what
were you thinking; didn't you hear me call your name?" I shrugged my
shoulders.

 "OK different time, different place, what is the deal with you and
file
0-37?" Race smiles at me. "You know, there was a time when you trusted
me
and would tell me anything. Will, I'm beginning to wonder if you ever
trusted me." He was right. I had trusted him. I do trust him. Why
should
things be any different over file 0-37?

 I asked Race if he and Corven had ever discussed the possibility of
Doctor
Quest becoming a "runaway." He said no, the topic had never came up
between
them. Bannon wanted to know why I was even asking such a thing. I found
out
that there is no delicate way to tell someone that they may be asked to
become an assassin of someone with whom they have become close; that
is,
should that person ever become a risk to national security.

 Bannon denies this; telling me I'm wrong. All I can do is offer to
assist
him in anyway I can if it ever happens. I told him that when Corven
asked me
if I could kill the then 8 year old son of Benton Quest without a
second
thought, my response had been no. I couldn't, nor would I be the cause
of
seeing the life fade from the child's eyes. That was the reason why I
had
been eliminated from the 0-37 file.

 Race looked at me, knowing that this was the undeniable truth. He just
shook his head, then with a glint of mischief he asked, "And Doctor
Quest?"
I turned red. I didn't really want to discuss that topic. Race pressed
his
questioning, "You told me how you felt about killing Jonny, but what
about
him?" Finally, I admitted that I wouldn't be able to kill Doctor Quest
either. After a great deal of prodding from Bannon and with a great
deal of
embarrassment, I confessed a few other things concerning the Doctor.

 Doctor Quest was still unconscious, but was showing signs of coming
around
when Race and I returned to our little shelter. I volunteered to scout
the
island while Race stayed with the Doctor.

Acknowledgments:
"DANGER ZONE" performing artist Kenny Loggins

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Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"MAGIC MAN"

 Wonders never cease: I found a crystal clear pool with a small
waterfall,
while exploring the island. I couldn't resist the urge of washing the
saltwater off before reporting my find back to Bannon. Stripping off my
clothes, I waded out into the pool. The waterfall felt wonderful as it
rinsed out the salt water from my hair. Lost in thought, I didn't sense
my
company until I heard Race's laugh, "Gee, Benton, if we had an ink pen
we
could play connect the dots until the boat gets here." How dare Al tell
anyone about the time that he had played "connect the dots."

 This isn't what it sounds like. We had been on a surveillance mission
one
night. Out of boredom Al had used an ink pen to try to make something
out of
the moles on my right arm.

"Turn around!" I hissed at Bannon and Doctor Quest.

 Bannon shot me an impish look. "Why?"

 "So I can put some clothes on, you pervert." I snarled at Bannon.

 After I had waded out of the pool and dressed, I told the men that
they
could turn around. Race grinned, "I'm forgetting my manners, Doctor
Benton
Quest, Will Harkness; Wilhelmina Harkness, Doctor Benton Quest." I
reached
out to shake hands with Doctor Quest and made a huge tactical error. I
met
his eyes with mine. I fell into a pair of periwinkle blue eyes.

 Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I wanted to say something incredibly
witty
and intelligent instead I just stood there gaping. Race's laugh broke
the
lock between our eyes. That's when he spoke: soft, cultured, melodious
and
as hypnotic as his eyes. "We should apologize for our inappropriate
behavior, for not making our presence known."

 I was still holding Doctor Quest's hand as I frowned at Race. Race
shrugged, "We debated for about 10 minutes over whether we should let
you
know we were here, or if we should just join you."

 I blushed red to the roots over the thought of two men watching me
without
my knowledge. Strange for someone who has seen and done some of the
things I
have done. Not to mention that I'm an Intelligence-One agent and I'm
always
supposed to be conscious of my surroundings. I started to walk off only
then
realizing that I was still holding Doctor Quest's hand...or was he
holding
mine?

 I looked into his eyes again; I couldn't say anything. My heart
hammered in
my chest; blood roared through my ears. Surely he knew what he was
doing to
me, how standing this close to him affected me. *Damn Race Bannon,* my
mind
screamed. I had told him that morning how attracted I was to Doctor
Benton
Quest.

 Nothing good could come out of this. The air was too heavy for me to
breathe; I felt faint. *He will break your heart,* sanity sang in my
brain.
The heedless, reckless part shouted back, *But it will feel so good
while he
's doing it.* Race let out a war whoop and picked me up carrying me
back
into the pool. When he reached the center of the pool he dropped me. I
surfaced, gasping and choking. Doctor Quest had joined us in the pool.

 Race doubled over laughing at me. I can't decide if was my
embarrassment or
Race's laughing over it that got the better of me. I dove at Bannon,
sending
both of us underwater. We surfaced spluttering and spitting. Race
dunked me.
I surfaced splashing both him and Doctor Quest. Bannon made a grab for
me; I
sidestepped right into Doctor Quest.

 I stammered an apology. Doctor Quest murmured in his full rich,
baritone
with just a trace of strain in it that it was OK. His eyes wandered
downward
as did mine. His eyes tracked the trail of a drop of water as it
traveled
from the hollow of my throat to my tank top. Doctor Quest lifted a
hand; one
finger reached out to touch my chest.

 OH MY, surely he could hear and feel how loudly my heart was hammering
in
my chest. He lifted the white gold chain with that one finger and
tugged,
gently freeing a St. Christopher medal. With a raised eyebrow he said,
"I
didn't think anyone wore these anymore!"

 "One of my grandmothers gave it to me for my eleventh birthday; I've
worn
it ever since," my throat was dry and all I could do was whisper my
response.

 That wonderful rich baritone now dropped to a husky whisper; "I see,"
as he
dropped the medal back into its resting place.

 This was stupid. I was standing there with the most intelligent; not
to
mention best looking man I had ever met---and this was the best I could
do?
I remembered file 0-37: how he had never stopped grieving for his wife.
Maybe the better part of valor was to leave. I started to move away.
His
husky whisper draws me back, "Was it something I said?"

 I flushed red. "No, I just hate wearing wet clothes."

 Race smirked at me, "Well take them off. I won't mind. Doctor Quest,
do you
mind if Will takes off her wet clothes?"

 Periwinkle blue eyes sparkled with challenge. "Far be it from me to
cause a
lady any discomfort."

 "I think I'll go get the rest of our clothes so we can rinse the salt
water
out of them." I beat a hasty retreat out of the pool, accompanied by
Race's
laughter and a rich baritone chuckle.

As I left, I heard Race tell Doctor Quest, "See, I told you that you
weren't
dreaming this morning."

 Bannon had vanished to places unknown by the time I returned. It was
my
turn to watch someone without his knowledge of my presence. My mind
screamed
for me to stop this, to keep my mind on my mission. There I was
checking out
the world's top genius as if he was a piece of meat in a butcher shop
window.

 My mind whispered back, *Yea, but girlfriend, if you say he isn't easy
on
the eyes, then you're lying!* After several deep cleansing breaths I
called
out that I was coming out into the clearing. Still no sign of Race.
Doctor
Quest volunteered to rinse out the clothes if I would hang them about
the
clearing to dry. While hanging out the clothes, I notice that one of
the
tarps we had used last night had magically appeared.

 "Where did Race disappeared to?" I asked.

 Doctor Quest responded, "He said you were supposed to find him."

 "Well then, Doctor, out of the pool; I can't leave you here by
yourself,
and Bannon shouldn't have deserted you either." With that, I turned my
back
to Doctor Quest and began looking for Race's tracks.

 We spent two hours looking for Bannon. Race was doing an excellent job
of
not being found. As we were walking down the beach, Doctor Quest was
surprised to discover that I knew the Latin name (genus and phylum) as
well
as the common name of the shells we found.

 Was it my imagination, or was Doctor Quest checking out my body? I'd
say
that it was more like wishful thinking on my part. We decided that
instead
of hunting for Race, we would go back to the clearing; it was cooler
there
and if Bannon wanted to be found, well, he would have to come find us.

 As we sat on the tarp, I invited Doctor Quest to tell me about
himself. He
gave me another strange look and a simple, "Why?"

 "Because I love to hear you talk." After all, haven't we always been
told
that honesty is the best policy? He told me about being abandoned by
his
parents, first his father, and then his mother. His mother had left him
with
her parents. Neither of his parents had been seen or heard from since
then.

 My heart broke a little more each time he told me something else about
his
life. Then he told me about what it was like being a child prodigy, how
he
was always an outcast and a pariah because of his age and intellect. He
told
me the difficulties of being a young boy in the colleges and institutes
he
had attended. He had never truly been accepted anywhere or by anyone
until
he met you. Benton Quest would have died for you, if he could have.

 Eventually the talk turned to his sons; I have never known a prouder
father. He told me about his worries and fears, how he didn't want to
smother them, but how often he was afraid for them. Jonny, he claimed
was as
reckless as Race, and Hadji was the most considerate person he had ever
known. Of Hadji he had no doubts; Hadji would grow up into a wonderful,
loving and caring person. Hadji was a survivor. Benton only hoped that
he
had given Hadji the ability to live without having to struggle.
However,
Jonny would be lucky if he lived to adulthood. Jonny was ruled too
often by
his passions, and one of these days it would get him killed.

 He admitted that he felt guilty about denying the boys a mother, but
after
you, how could he possibly find anyone worthy enough to replace you?
There
had been someone once; he had even gone so far as to ask her to marry
him,
but they had decided that it wouldn't work. No, he was content to
remain a
widower. For some reason this caused the world to tilt away from me,
leaving
me to drop into a dark abyss. I jumped when Doctor Quest touched my
shoulder. I mumbled a weak apology and an even weaker excuse as to why
I
hadn't heard a word he had said for the last few minutes.

 Very politely he asked about my life's history; after all, I had
patiently
sat through his very uneventful life. Uneventful? How could someone
whose
life was so full of sadness and tragedies call it uneventful? I yawned
and
pretended to be sleepy. I lay down on the tarp and tried hard to ignore
the
fact that Doctor Quest was silently waiting to hear my life's story.

 With a heavy sigh I explained that my life was even less eventful. I
was
the hopelessly middle child out of five: an older brother and sister
and a
younger sister and brother. I was always the odd child in my family. I
was
the hoyden. I was too loud and I dressed funny; you know the drill.

 My friend Terry and I had been friends forever, sort of like his sons
in a
way. He laughed and asked if we terrorized everyone who came in contact
with
us. The answer was, "But of course." I joined the Army when I was 18,
became
an Army Ranger and then an Intelligence-One agent, and that was my
life's
history.

 He pressed for more information, but that was all I was willing to
tell
him, at least for the time being. Perhaps one day I will tell him about
my
life. My parents didn't understand and they didn't approve of me. I
just
wanted to be a normal teenager. It had been almost eighteen years since
I
have seen any of my family. How was I supposed to explain all of this
to
someone I had just met? Better to leave things as they
were---unexplained. I
had already told him more than I had ever told anyone before. Until
that day
I had always told people that I was an orphan. There was one aspect
about my
family and myself that I would take to my grave with me. It was a
secret
never to be shared with anyone.

 Besides, I was in enough pain over Bannon's betrayal. What had Race
been
thinking? Was he trying to play matchmaker? Why? I yawned again; I
really
was sleepy. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

Acknowledgments:
"MAGIC MAN" performing artist Heart

Benton's past was inspired and created by a couple of other Mlers
(whose
names will not be mentioned to protect the innocent)  ~_^

 
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"Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"OUT OF THE FRYING PAN (AND INTO THE FIRE)"

 I must have fallen asleep because when I began to wake up I was
greeted by
the feel of warm breath on my face and a pair of lips on mine. Oh,
great,
this was just the type of stunt Bannon would pull. I anticipated a
sarcastic, 'Asleep on the job' comment; before it could be said I
mumbled
drowsily, "Prince Charming you're not." I stretched and yawned,
sleepily
asking, "Have I been asleep long?" I hadn't bothered to open my eyes, I
knew
that I would see hazel eyes and a smirk when I did.

 "No," those lips whispered against mine.

 My eyes popped wide open . . . that wasn't Race's voice. Instead of
hazel
eyes, I was looking into intense periwinkle blue ones. "I'm sorry, I
fell
asleep; you shouldn't have let me do that. What a poor excuse for a
bodyguard I am," I mockingly cried, trying hard not to think about
those
lips.

 "Oh, but I have always wondered what it was like to be a bodyguard."
Those
divine lips danced across mine.

 I stretched again as I said, "And did you find out?"

 "Yes, I did find out just how difficult it can be." His lips brushed
mine
again.

 "I was asleep, how difficult could that have been?" I joked.

 His tongue licked across my lips before he answered. "I kept wanting
to
kiss you."

 I blushed; in my mind I heard myself say, "Doctor Quest this is highly
in
appropriate," but, what came out of my mouth was, "Well, I'm awake now.
That
is . . . if you're still interested in kissing me?"

 "But I thought you said I wasn't Prince Charming?" That was
accompanied by
an impish lopsided grin that could virtually charm the pants off
someone.

 Before I could stop myself I blurted out, "But you are Prince
Charming. I
thought it was Bannon being a pest."

 "OH! I am? Is he?" Periwinkle blue eyes danced with mischief as I felt
the
blood rush to my cheeks. I should have gotten up and placed a
respectable
distance between us. I was held in place by the desire to find out that
if
he really kissed me instead of those play kisses would his beard and
mustache feel as soft as it looked. It did.

 Soon both of us were breathless. Oh, how very dangerous it was for me
to be
left alone with this person. My mind cursed Bannon a blue streak. Where
was
he? Why wasn't he there making sure I didn't do something I would live
to
regret? Why wasn't he there to put out that fire? Someone needed to;
and
neither Doctor Quest nor I were capable of doing that ourselves.

 Thankfully before things could go any further, Race crashed through
the
under brush into the clearing, "I'm not interrupting anything? Am I?"
His
drawl laced with amusement.

 "If I said 'Yes' would you go away?" I answered.

 Bannon delivered a perfectly deadpanned yet oddly innocent, "No."
Silently,
I thought of all sorts of vile methods in which to kill Roger T.
Bannon. "I
caught some fish." He proudly showed his catch.

 With a sarcastic arch of an eyebrow I said, "Race, those aren't fish,
they'
re fish bait." Bannon stuck his tongue out at me. My response was
"Don't
stick it out unless you intend to use it."

 This prompted Race to plop down on the tarp, and smirk at me. The
thought
flashed through my mind, *What is he going to do now?* He pinned my
arms at
my side and licked my nose. Bannon hissed a whisper into my ear; "I
don't
want Benton to think there is anything going on between us that might
cause
him to get jealous."

 I shot Race a scowl and harshly whispered back, "What??? Jealous? Why
would
he be jealous?"

 A cultured voice spoke, "I'll leave the two of you alone," drifted
over the
tropical air.

 Race leaped up, "Wait, Doctor Quest, don't leave we are getting ready
to
cook these fish."

 The voice drifted back on the wind. "I think I'll take a walk on the
 beach."

 Race pointed his finger at me, "See what you have done now!"

 I stood up gapping, "Me, me, what about me? You were the one that
pinned me
down and licked my nose. Remember?"

 This time Bannon pointed towards the beach, "How could you do that?"

 I threw up my hands, "Do what?"

 Bannon just looked at me, "And women call men clueless." Race stalked
off
towards the beach.

 I sat back down, confused. What had just happened? Doctor Quest had
left
for unknown reasons, and now Bannon had left in a huff. How was this my
fault? What had I done? It wasn't as if any feelings were involved
here. So
what was the big deal here?

 Did it really bother Doctor Quest to see me in Race's arms? It
couldn't,
after all hadn't Doctor Quest told me that he would never love anyone
as
much as you? He had no interest in finding anyone else, so what was the
deal
here?

 Bannon had left his knife. I cleaned the fish, got a small fire
started,
and began cooking the fish while the men sulked. The men returned;
Doctor
Quest looked downcast and rejected and Bannon looked as he always did.
We
ate in silence. Bannon offered to do the dishes; this at least caused
the
Doctor to chuckle. We continued to sit there in the gathering twilight,
no
one willing to break the silence.

 Race shoved my arm, "Hey, I remember you've got a good singing voice.
How
about doing something to entertain us troops?" I asked for requests,
since
there were none forthcoming, I started to sing something from Camelot.
Bannon stopped me, "No." He gently explained. "Sing something to warm
everyone up."

 So I sang Pat Benatar's "Heartbeaker." When I reached the chorus I
focused
all my attention on Benton; "You're the right kind of sinner to release
my
inner fantasies." His eyes came up, and locked on mine. I continued
with the
song never breaking eye contact. I finished the song; "You're a
heartbeaker,
dreammaker, love-taker, heartbreaker!" Then I sang another song, Tom
Petty's
"Breakdown." Race had left sometime during the singing. I'm not sure
when.

 All I remember was being alone again with Benton. I sat on the tarp
and fed
a few more sticks into the little fire. Looking at the sky, I noticed
that
night was falling fast. Where had the day gone?

 I felt the tickle of Benton's beard on my shoulder. I was determined
not to
let him know how he affected me. Softly, Doctor Benton Quest,
world-renowned
scientist began to sing an old Beatles' tune. "Something in the way she
moves, Attracts me like no other lover, Something in the way she woos
me,"
the full rich baritone voice seduced me. The warmth of his breath on my
neck
and his beard on my shoulder were too much for me.

 I leaned back against him. He put his arms around me and continued to
sing.
Perhaps Meat Loaf's song "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad" would have been
more
appropriate. It was more like 1 out of 3. He didn't love me. He didn't
need
me. He just wanted me. He loved you and he didn't need anyone else.

 When he finished singing, I turned in his arms and kissed him. It was
a
beautiful night, clear skies, and a bright full moon over head, warm
tropical breezes. We were two consenting adults. My mind still screamed
that
this was wrong and to think of this as a mission, but OH, MY didn't the
sensation of his hands on my bare (when had that happened) back feel
wonderful. Things were heating up nicely.

 Luckily or unluckily, depending on how you want to look at it, Race
came
crashing through the underbrush. "Hey, I'm sleepy let's take that tarp
back
to the beach so we can all get a little shut eye?" Bannon drawled.
Doctor
Quest and I agreed.

 I had a hard time sleeping that night. As dawn began to break so did
my
conscience over what I had done yesterday; it had been WRONG.

 I tried to convince myself that it didn't matter. Today either friends
or
foes would find us. If it were foes they would kill Race and me,
getting
Doctor Quest back. If it were friends, then things would go back to
normal.
Doctor Quest would be returned to his family, and I would go back to HQ
to
fill out reports.

 Let's be honest here; I didn't belong in the life of Doctor Quest. He
had a
family to love and to look after. I was just an unnecessary
complication. I
couldn't stand lying there near him. I managed to leave without
disturbing
either man. I was standing there looking out to sea, and, of all the
foolish
things to do crying. I-1 agents don't cry, or at least we aren't
supposed to
cry.

 Benton spoke my name. I wiped away my tears before he could see them.
I was
in for a shock. He looked as lost and forlorn as I felt. He thought I
had
abandoned him, just like all the other women in his life. My mind went
numb,
what was I supposed to do? Again my heart broke; I couldn't make
demands on
him. This shouldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening!

 So, I told him how silly he was being. After all, did he really think
that
yesterday had meant something to me? Benton first looked confused, then
hurt, then angry. He said something else. I laughed, "Doctor Quest,
surely
you are smarter than that; I mean, Doctor, yesterday was great, but
let's be
real here. Just because it was fun doesn't mean I'm in love with you.
Orders
are orders."

 Benton's face turned as red as his hair, "Oh, I get it. This was all
staged, us being stranded here on this little island. Someone in the
government decided I was becoming dull, so they decided to kill two
birds
with one stone. Rescue me, and get someone to put some "fun" into my
life.
Was that it?"

 I smirked, "Well Doctor, Corven was right, you are as smart and as
intuitive as people say you are."

 His voice had gotten louder, "Corven told you to flirt with me?"

 "Now Doctor that's supposed to be a secret; how did you figure it
out?"
Keep smiling Will.

 The next words Benton said hurt, driving deep, "So, you're Phil
Corven's .
. . " He couldn't bring himself to say what he thought I was, "I had
heard
rumors but, no one ever confirmed them. I would have thought that you
would
have been blonde and have a body that just wouldn't quit, I guess
that's
what makes you so good at your job."

 I simply stood there; smiling while his words cut me to ribbons. I
wanted
to tell him I lied to protect myself from a breaking heart---it was
better
this way. Let him think the worst of me. It would be better this way,
for
him to think these terrible things about me when he returned to his
family.
Benton ranted some more before falling silent, and turning to stare out
at
the ocean. I managed to walk away and back to the pool before my legs
quit
on me.

 Once there I collapsed, I wrapped my arms around my knees and pressed
my
face against them. Benton's words still ringing in my ears. I began to
cry;
great racking sobs shook my body. I heard someone behind me, thinking
it was
Race I yelled, "GO AWAY BANNON, just leave me alone. I'm not in the
mood for
your bullshit right now."

 Race didn't speak, and I continued to cry. "Don't tell me I screwed up
Race, OK? I'm not what he needs, he doesn't know me, and I can't
replace his
wife. I'm a complication in his life that he doesn't need. Yesterday
never
should have happened; it was nothing but a fantasy." Sobbing still I
continued, "Do you know what he thinks I am? Phil Corven was right not
to
trust me. It would be so easy for me to fall in love with him." I
laughed
bitterly, "Do you know how badly it hurt when he told me of his love
for
Rachel and how he'll never be able to love anyone that much again? The
sad
thing is that I would settle for half as much. DAMN, I have fallen in
love
with him!" Tears were still pouring down my cheeks as Bannon moved
closer to
offer comfort.

 Race knelt in the sand in front of me. His hands pried mine apart. He
reached out and lifted my face to look at him. It wasn't Bannon. Benton
looked as hurt and as wounded as I felt. "Forgive me?" He took me in
his
arms, and kissed away my tears.

 I tried not to allow myself to be deceived by my heart. It was already
too
late. He kissed me, tenderly, "Race sent me to find you. The pick up
boat
should be here soon." He hauled me to my feet. "It's time for us to
go." I
told him I would be there shortly.

 He agreed and left whistling "Something." I found Race's knife; we
must
have forgotten it last night. I picked it up and started back to the
beach.
As I neared the beach I heard loud voices.

Acknowledgments:
"Out Of The Frying Pan (And Into The Fire) performing artist Meat Loaf
"Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" performing artist Meat Loaf
"Heartbreaker" performing artist Pat Benatar
"Breakdown" performing artist Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers
"Something" performing artist The Beatles
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"EVIL GENIUS"

 "We know there was another person with you when you rescued Doctor
Quest.
Where is he?" This voice sounded familiar, yet different.

 Race responded with, "He was killed in the escape."

 There was the sound of someone being struck, followed by, "You're
lying
Bannon. There are three sets of footprints here on the beach. I'm
assuming
that the smaller set of prints belongs to the Doctor's brat. Now, call
the
boy out of his hiding place or my men will start shooting up the island
to
flush him out."

 The familiar, yet unfamiliar voice continued, "Boy, come out and I
won't
hurt your father. Continue to stay hidden and I'll have no other
choice."
Benton's outcry of pain sent me charging recklessly and heedlessly out
onto
the beach.

 I rushed Benton's tormentor. One of his flunkies tried to stop me, but
only
managed to trip me. I rolled up onto my feet only to stare daggers into
hazel eyes.

 I knew those hazel eyes, "Race?"

 "No, Will!" I turned slightly Race and Benton were both shackled
behind me.
Bannon's body double smiled. I shivered as if someone had just walked
over
my grave.

 His familiar, yet unfamiliar voice rumbled, "Oh, my, what a surprise.
Intelligence-One sent a skirt to back you up . . . this will be too
easy."

 I arched an eyebrow at him as I feinted with the knife, "You think?"
He was
good; whoever he was, almost as good as Bannon, but he lacked the
amazing
cat like grace and speed. I kept feinting and throwing kicks at him.

 My physical strength flagged quickly. I kicked. He blocked. I swept.
He
jumped. The battle waged for what seemed as hours before one of his men
used
his rifle to trip me. I landed hard that time. The fall knocked the
wind out
of me. I lost my grip on the knife.

 Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs I started to rise. Race's
doppelganger
reached down and grabbed my left wrist jerking me to my feet. I swung
at
him; he caught my right wrist. Slowly he let go of my right wrist,
trapping
the thumb against my left wrist in his right hand.

 The duplicate removed his belt and used it to restrain my wrists in
front
of me. "Get them on the boats; Doctor Zin is waiting," he ordered his
men.

 The duplicate had us placed in different boats. The doppelganger, one
of
his men and I were in the cigarette boat that we had used for Benton's
rescue. These three boats took us out to a sixty-foot pleasure yacht.
Benton
and Race were taken below deck; Race shouted out, "Korchek, if you hurt
her
I'll kill you." So, that was this thing's name, Korchek.

 The sixty-foot yacht was outrigged with deep sea fishing equipment.
One of
those pieces of equipment was a hoist. Korchek had a line fastened from
the
hoist to my makeshift manacles. "Hoist her, and bring Quest and Bannon
out
on deck." At his orders I was raised six feet off the deck and swung
out
over the water.

 Benton gasped, "No, let her down," when he came out on deck.

 Bannon fought loose of his guards. "Drop her overboard!" Korchek
ordered. I
must have scream as I fell toward the sea because Race stopped his
charge.
When Race stopped, my fall stopped.

 Korchek laughed, "You see, gentlemen, you either behave or your little
playmate gets wet. I would hate to see her have to try to hold her
breath
all the way to Doctor Zin's island. Take them below!" Benton offered to
take
my place. Korchek found that hilarious. Race and Benton where again
herded
below deck.

 "I am sorry my dear, but to make sure the gentlemen behave you're
going to
have to stay there." He turned and went below as the captain powered up
the
yacht. The boat we had used to rescue Benton went up in a ball of
flames. I
heard Race ask Korchek to allow him to take my place. Both Race and
Benton
promised their best behavior if he would release me from the hoist.

 My muscles screamed from the strain. My arms felt as if they were
being
yanked from my shoulder sockets. The sun on the water blinded me.
Korchek
eventually gave orders to lower me enough so that my toes touched the
deck.
This did take a little of the strain off my arms.

 By the time we reached Doctor Zin's island my calf and thigh muscles
were
screaming as loudly as my arms and shoulders. Race spoke, breaking me
from
my misery, "Are you OK?"

 I was thirsty, hot, and my muscles were screaming. "I'm fine," I
hoarsely
whispered back. The boat docked. Finally, I was released from the
hoist. My
muscles rebelled at my weight, and I went down in a heap. Korchek
laughed in
amusement as he tossed me over his shoulder.

 Bannon and Doctor Quest were in the lead as we approached Zin's island
palace. The interior was cool and the floor was highly polished marble.
From
what little I could see we were in a great hall. Here we halted,
waiting.
The sound of footsteps approached. A cultured, accented voice spoke,
"Ah,
Doctor Quest and Mr. Bannon, how good of you to visit me here on my
little
island. Mr. Bannon, whatever happened to your clothes?" Race was
dressed in
his T-shirt and boxers. Korchek and his men had attacked before Race
had
gotten dressed in his fatigues. Then the voice focused on Korchek,
"What do
you have there, Mr. Korchek? One of the Quest brats, no doubt. Well,
which
one is it?"

 "No, Doctor Zin," Korchek stepped forward standing me on my feet and
shoving me towards Doctor Zin.

 I still had not gotten my legs back. I lost my footing and fell,
sliding
across the floor. A pair of expensive Italian leather shoes stopped my
slide. Korchek was there to pull me roughly to my feet. My eyes travel
upward, an expensive hand tailored suit, bleached Egyptian cotton
shirt,
goatee, Fu Manchu mustache, Mongolian features, dark piercing eyes; you
could even say he was handsome. The man was as charming as a snake and
arrogant.

 He and Doctor Quest appeared to be close to the same age and size.
That's
all that they had in common. With his snake smooth voice, Zin asked me
my
name. I refused to give him an answer, preferring to glare daggers at
him
instead. Zin snapped his fingers, "Hurt Mr. Bannon. Maybe that will
help her
remember her name."

 Race's double spun me around so I can watch as half a dozen men began
to
beat Race. "Stop, perhaps it will be more effective if we use Doctor
Quest,"
Zin ordered; before the second blow landed I told Zin my name.

 Zin ordered us bathed and dressed for dinner. I was dressed in peacock
blue
silk wide legged pants and a matching flowing tunic. When next I saw
Benton,
my heart stopped. I had been correct; he and Zin were close to the same
size. Benton was resplendent in one of Zin's hand tailored suits. He
looked
too beautiful to be real. Bannon and Korchek outfitted in identical
charcoal
gray suits. It was difficult to tell which was which. Two exquisite
young
ladies accompanied Doctor Zin, as impeccably dressed as this afternoon.
The
Doctor introduced them as his daughters.

 Dinner itself rivaled anything that a four star restaurant could
produce.
It's a shame the circumstances had not been different. Benton scowled
and
rose to the bait each time Doctor Zin spoke to him. Zin finally seemed
to
grow tired of baiting Benton. Now he turned his attentions to me.

 "Miss Harkness," he said after taking a sip of wine. "I have spent all
afternoon and a considerable amount of money trying to find out about
you."
I refused to comment. "Very well, I will tell you what I have learned,"
giving me a mocking bow over his raised wineglass.

 Doctor Zin sighed heavily, "I was unable to find out anything about
you
prior to your joining the Army. You joined the Army at eighteen. Even
though
you listed no family, you couldn't possibly be an orphan. Orphans don't
become certified divers or licensed pilots. You were one of the few
females
to break the sex barrier in the Army Rangers. Intelligence-One
recruited you
because your name was on the top of the Army's list of recommended
candidates. You specialize in surveillance, electronics, computers, and
weapons. Your marriage ended in an annulment. The courts honored your
request to have the records sealed." Zin took another sip of wine.

 Then he began my history again. "That is the only information that I
found
other than the trivial things that came from hacking into
Intelligence-One's
computers." Zin raised my hand to his lips, "Now, for the information I
had
to pay for. Agent Shepherd is your favorite dance partner. Erotic is
the
best way to describe the way you dance together. Your fellow senior
agents
adore you and respect you. The younger male agents are in awe of you.
The
female agents are uncomfortable around you, some even hate you because
the
male agents gravitate to you for reasons they can't understand. Rumor
has it
that Phil Corven has a thing for you." He smirked at Benton.

 "Agent TC Caines; who you call Terry, is your partner, best friend and
confidant. There is a wide debate over why the two of you are friends.
Some
say you've known each other from childhood and others disagree. Even
Agent
Caines won't say how long you've known each other. Bannon requested
your
assistance in rescuing Doctor Quest. Mr. Corven offered other agents,
Bannon
refused all . . . insisting on you alone," with that he smiled at Race.
"For
which I should thank you Mr. Bannon," I felt sick. Benton looked hurt.
I
could not bring myself to meet his periwinkle blue eyes. With dinner
finished, what would be Zin's next move?

 Zin ordered us to be taken to our cells. Benton and Race would share a
cell. I would have a cell of my own. Zin and Korchek both watched Race
and
Benton to see what their reactions would be. Benton Quest glared
daggers at
Zin. Zin's laughter rewarded Benton for his efforts.

 Zin visited me later in my cell. He explained the choices Doctor Quest
had;
he could work for Zin, while Race would die and I would become a slave.
Refuse him and both Race and I would die slowly and horribly; the
Doctor
would still remain Zin's prisoner.

 One of his hands reached up and stroked my hair. Doctor Zin
misinterpreted
my shudder of revulsion for something else. He grasped a hand full of
hair
and jerked my head back exposing my throat. With slow deliberation
Zin's
tongue traced the hollow at the base and traveled upward. I pretended
to
lose my balance.

 I forced his right hand between his legs catching his thumb with my
right
hand and forcing his arm up between his legs as I spun him so his back
was
now to me. Zin grunted with shock and pain. I placed my left hand on
his
left shoulder and steered us towards the door. I ordered him to open
the
door. I was surprised that there were no guards outside.

 As we walked along the hallway I halted us before two crossed dirks.
Lifting one with my left hand I ordered Zin to start marching. When Zin
asked what I intended to do with the dirk, I laughed softly and
informed him
I hadn't made up my mind. He was going to show me away off his island
other
than by boat. He showed me the airplane hangar and landing strip, and
then
showed me were Bannon and Doctor Quest was being held.

 Strangely, we didn't encounter any guards until we neared this area.
Herding the guards before us I demanded that they unlock the cell door
or I
would kill their Master. Bannon groused, "It took you long enough, or
were
you to busy enjoying the hospitality of our host?"

 "No, I was too busy trying to find a way off this island!" I snarled
back
at Bannon. We left Zin and the guards locked in the cell and started
off
towards the landing field.

 Bannon conceded by complimenting me on finding an alternate route off
the
island. It was odd that no one opposed us as we made our way to the
airstrip. Was Zin so supremely arrogant to think that no one would dare
escape? Our luck ran out at the hanger. There were a few guards, and
workers
milling around. Race took the dirk and set out to scout for a usable
plane
or chopper. Bannon's last words to me before he left were, "Protect
Benton."

 I had turned around to watch the way we had come. A soft snick brought
me
around. Benton didn't see him. Zin was standing in the opening of a
secret
passageway with a nasty looking revolver aimed at Benton. Zin smiled at
me.
As I started to step between him and Benton, he pulled the trigger. I
would
never make it. I had failed. Something slammed into my right shoulder
throwing me backward into Doctor Quest.

 Both Benton and I went down, with me lying across him. Zin stood
watching
us. I turned to look at Doctor Quest. His face spattered with blood.
The
only thing I could think of was, *Race is going to kill me!* I had let
Doctor Quest get shot. I reached up with my right hand, but it wouldn't
work
for some reason, something hot was flowing down my right arm and side.
I
used my left to try to wipe away the blood, only succeeding in smearing
it
across his face.

 I tried to talk. A coppery taste filled my mouth. I tried again,
"You're
wounded. I'm sorry I failed."

 Benton gathered me in his arms, "No, Will I'm fine, it's your blood."

 Blackness crept in around me, as it did I remembered something that I
had
once read. "Good-bye my life, Good-bye my love, Good-bye all thoughts
of
heaven above. Ben . . ."

 As the blackness claimed me I heard Zin's laughter. "You really should
take
better care of your lady friends Quest it appears you have lost another
 one." His laughter grew fainter.

Acknowledgments:
"EVIL GENIUS" performing artist Pat Benatar

 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"PROMISES IN THE DARK"

 I woke up two days later in a convent hospital in the Philippines. The
sound that woke me was a cheery voice asking, "How is our Sleeping
Beauty
doing today?"

 I opened my eyes, and saw "Merriweather" (the blue fairy from Disney's
"Sleeping Beauty"); the owner of the voice was a diminutive creature
with a
round face and bright laughing eyes. "Merriweather?" I whispered
hoarsely.

 "No, I am Sister Agnes, but here, let me fetch the two gentlemen," she
replied.

 I must have fallen back under the sleeping spell, because the next
thing I
felt was the tickle of a beard and mustache against my face as a pair
of
familiar lips touched mine. I smiled against those lips without opening
my
eyes, "Prince Charming!"

 Race's voice mockingly challenged from a distance, "No, I'm over
here." I
opened my eyes and attempted to sit up; a wave of dizziness and nausea
washed over me.

 Both Race and Benton began yelling for the nurse. Merriweather or
Sister
Agnes rushed in, shushing both men and scolding me for trying to get up
so
quickly. The doctor made his appearance and stated flatly that he would
not
even consider releasing me for at least another week.

 I told Race to go ahead and take Doctor Quest home and to just tell
Phil
where I was, so that I-1 would wire me funds for airfare home. Doctor
Quest
wasn't happy about this and let me know it. We would return home
together.
For the next week Doctor Quest spent every waking moment at the
hospital
either entertaining me in my room with stories of the Quest Family's
adventures or pushing me around outside in a wheelchair. He volunteered
to
hand feed me so the nurses could attend to other patients.

 I tried to tell him that it was a shoulder wound and I was capable of
walking and feeding myself but he wouldn't hear of it. I was greeted
each
morning with a kiss and tucked into bed each night with one. There were
fresh flowers for my room every day.

 Race had complained that the sight of me in a hospital gown was
depressing,
so Doctor Quest went out and bought me three lovely nightgowns and
robe. The
gowns were all of delicate silk with lace trim. One was Officer's Blue,
the
second one was raspberry, and the last one was cream colored. Bannon
was
very verbal about what his color choices would have been; he had tried
to
talk Benton into buying a red, a black, and a sheer white one.

 The first morning I was wearing one caused quite a stir. When Benton
and
Race entered the room I sat up in bed. The covers fell to my waist,
Bannon
whistled and Doctor Quest let out an audible moan. From that day on I
made
sure I had a robe on before they got there.

 Benton and I also discovered that we both enjoyed musicals. We would
take
turns singing and sometimes we would perform duets. On one of our
strolls we
sang "Where is Love?" from "Oliver" as a duet. I don't think Benton
over
heard the conversation between two of the elderly patients; I did. One
remarked to the other that it was so sweet seeing two people so in love
with
each other. I know that's how I felt about him; the jury was still out
on
how he felt about me. It was paradise, or almost.

 Bannon was constantly reminding me that the object of body guarding
was to
protect the person you were guarding without being injured yourself. I
almost believe that it was Race's harping and lecturing that caused
Benton
to be so solicitous. The doctor finally released me from the hospital,
with
a stern warning that he really wasn't happy to be doing so.

 The bullet had done considerable damage and the wound wasn't healing
properly. I was merely grateful to learn that even though the bullet
had
gone through my shoulder Benton had been miraculously left unharmed.
Somehow
when it exited my shoulder it had missed him. I am sure that Zin had
thought
he had, as the old expression goes, "Killed two birds with one stone."

 Doctor Quest called his lawyer and arranged for one of the Quest
Enterprises' jets to pick us up and carry us back to the states. The
next
morning we started home. Benton and Race where excited about seeing
their
children, I was the only one who wasn't looking forward to going home
and
for good reasons. Once home, I knew that Benton would become Doctor
Quest
and I would just become a midsummer's night fling.

 As the jet carried us closer to Maine, I wanted to kiss him one more
time.
It didn't take long to get his complete attention. We went into a
clutch.
Race excused himself to go get some fresh air. Bannon went into the
cockpit
of the jet and closed the door. The pilots looked at him, and Race
explained
that the Doctor was working on something and didn't want to be
disturbed.
After all it wouldn't do to explain to the pilots that the Doctor and
Ms.
Harkness were making out like a couple of teenagers after the prom.

 Time stood still; I wanted the plane to crash or never to land. I
wanted
this to go on forever. Reality is a bitch; this jet was taking us back
to
our very different lives. Lives that we couldn't share. With each kiss
we
were that much closer to never again. With each kiss he was becoming a
father and a world-renowned scientist. With each kiss I became an
Intelligence-One agent assigned to a mission.

 My orders didn't include falling in love with my assignment. With each
kiss
Benton Quest proved just how right Phil Corven had been about me. I
couldn't
be trusted . . . not when it came to Benton Quest. Doctor Quest wiped
away
my tears. I don't think he truly understood our future, or that we
didn't
have one. We were both silent, an hour later we landed at the Maine
compound.

 Doctor Quest jumped from the plane and ran to his two sons. Race was
close
behind running to scoop his daughter up and swing her around in his
arms.
Jeff Robinson walked slowly up to the gathering. I joined the group
even
slower.

 Only Jeff took notice of me; he asked about the sling. Shoulder wound
I
told him, as if it didn't matter, or it didn't hurt. Compared to my
breaking
heart the shoulder really didn't hurt. He offered to report in and
request
transportation. I was after all, the senior agent and this was my duty.
I
excused him to go see that Mr. Corven was advised of our return. Jeff
returned in a few minutes saying that our transport would be there in
an
hour. No one missed me as I strolled along the cliffs.

 The I-1 transport did a fly by and I walked back down the cliff path
as it
landed. The pilot left his controls only long enough to open the door.
Agent
Robinson told all the kids good-bye and shook hands with both Doctor
Quest
and Race. I hugged Race and told Doctor Quest not to hesitate if he
ever
needed my services to contact me. I told the three teen-agers good-bye
and
walked to the jet.

 Jeff was ahead of me. I was dragging my feet. Why hadn't I kissed
Benton
good-bye? That was easy---we had already said our good-bye. I wanted
and
didn't want Doctor Quest to call my name one last time. I kept telling
myself that I wouldn't cry over him, but what would happen if he called
my
name? Would I turn around and embarrass the two of us, or would I keep
walking? Finally, after what seemed like a five mile hike, I had made
it to
the jet.

 I was still chanting to myself, "I will NOT cry." Well, that had
answered
all of my questions, he didn't care. That's when I heard his voice. No,
it
was a dream . . . it was wishful thinking. Then I heard him call my
name
again, louder this time. I turned in the doorway he was caught half way
between his family and me. He spoke my name again; he sounded so hurt,
so
full of pain. I leapt from the jet and ran to him.

 For just a moment we stared at each other. Doctor Quest took me in his
arms
and kissed me long and hard in front of everyone. I broke the kiss.
Benton
reached for me again; I turned away. I had seen the hurt and angry look
on
his son Jonny's face.

 I should have realized that the look was the universal disapproval
that all
children have for a possible new love interest in their parent's life.
It
was the look that said, "You're not good enough for my father. How dare
you
even think you're going to replace my mother."

 The pilot was reporting in; he must have included this tidbit in his
report. I boarded the jet. When I looked down Race was waving with one
hand.
Bannon's other hand was on Benton's shoulder. Jessie and Hadji were
also
waving. Jonny was glaring at his father's back and Benton was standing
with
his head bowed.

Acknowledgments:
"PROMISES IN THE DARK" performing artist Pat Benatar

 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"LIFE IS A LEMON AND I WANT MY MONEY BACK"

 We landed at Dulles. A car from Intelligence-One was there to take us
to
headquarters. Once back at HQ, our driver escorted me in the back way
and
directly into Corven's office. This was strange; I had never had this
happen
before. Phil was looking out of his office window when I entered.
Corven
dismissed the deputy directors who had been with him.

 Phil Corven informed me that a hacker had compromised my files.
Fearing the
possibility that this was no accident I-1 had relocated me and assigned
me a
new phone number and car. The Agency's switchboard would monitor all of
my
in-coming and out-going calls. I wasn't to tell anyone my new phone
number
or address, including my fellow agents.

 At my new home I found all of my belongings. Someone had set up my
bed, but
hadn't taken the time to put the linens on it. I didn't have the energy
or
even care as I fell across the unmade mattress, reviewing every word
Corven
had told me. Tomorrow I would begin a month long reassignment to the
FBI.
Their X-files section had gone up in flames; they needed help
recovering any
salvageable files. With my wound it would be a few weeks before I could
return to active duty, so I was the lucky person chosen for the
assignment.

 So much had happened to me in the last two weeks, I felt as if I was
under
a curse. How could my life have become so complicated in such a short
time?
I couldn't stand the thought of being alone. My new car turned out to
be a
brand new forest green Corvette.

 I didn't care about my shoulder wound as I slammed through the gears
on my
way to Terry's. I shifted viciously, welcoming the pain stabbing
through my
shoulder. I reached Terry's house and threw myself at the door. Terry
answered the door with obscenities and in a pair of boxer shorts.
"Will, you
could have called first." I stalked to the downstairs bathroom.

 A woman's voice drifted downstairs asking if everything was all right.
Terry responded by saying, "Yes---it's just my wife." As I leaned on
the
vanity trying to stem the flow of tears I couldn't help laughing when a
few
minutes later the front door slammed shut. Whoever she was from the way
she
slammed the door I could tell she wouldn't be back.

 Terry opened the bathroom door, "Wow, Will your shoulder is bleeding.
What
happened?"

"It's nothing," I mumbled trying to clean the wound and bandage it left
handed. "You know Terry you didn't need the gun when you opened the
door . .
. just the sight of you in boxers is enough to send someone running."

"Welcome home . . . by the way let me be the first to tell you I didn't
miss
you." He took the bottle of peroxide from me.

"Here let me do that." He finished cleaning and bandaging the wound. By
the
time he was done I had dissolved into tears. "Will, what
happened---you're
not crying over this little shoulder wound."

 Terry would have understood how I felt about Doctor Quest. I just
couldn't
bring myself to talk about it. The pain ran too deep. We spent the rest
of
the night sitting on his couch saying nothing to each other.

 The following morning I reported to the FBI building. I knocked on the
door
of the X-files section. A red headed woman answered my knock. I
introduced
myself as Wilhelmina Harkness. The red head laughed, explaining that
she was
expecting a guy; Mulder had told her that Will Harkness would be
working
with them. The mention of Mulder's name didn't come as a surprise to
me. I
silently wondered if he was as rabid about the X-files as he had been
the
first time that I met him.

 She introduced herself as Dana Scully. We started working it wasn't
long
before Special Agent Fox Mulder breezed into the room. We spoke a brief
greeting and all three of us started working on the files.

 For the next month I worked 10 to 16 hour days 7 days a week, speaking
only
when spoken to, and eating only when Scully or Mulder set something
down in
front of me. Mechanical was the term closest to describing me during
this
period. Finally, at noon on a Friday, everything recoverable was
restored.
Director Skinner called Corven with the news.

 Phil had a surveillance detail for Terry and me. The assignment would
last
from Friday night until the following Saturday. We were to meet at HQ
at 6
every night. Terry had the details. We were to be discreet and to try
to
allow as much privacy as possible for the subjects.

 When I arrived at HQ, Terry was ready to go he had all the information
we
needed. We were to pick up and tail some egghead to his squeeze's
place;
then follow them until the egghead returned to his hotel. The I-1
assigned
to guard the family was staying back at the hotel; baby-sitting the
egghead'
s kiddies.

 I didn't need to see the vanity license plate or Race Bannon standing
in
front of the hotel to know whom the egghead was. All I needed was to
see the
back of that beloved, peculiar shade of red hair. We tagged along
remaining
a discreet distance back. The Doctor's limo parked in front of a
fashionable
brownstone in a very up scaled section of town. The Doctor got out and
went
inside it wasn't long before he returned with a woman.

 I had to admit she was pretty in a perky sort of way; tall, slim,
short
raven's wing black hair, designer eyeglasses and a pouty little mouth.
I
wanted to leap from the car and rip her to shreds. Again moving, Terry
tried
to engage me in conversation. The Doctor and his date dined in a very
posh,
'hard to get a table in,' Italian place. The couple ended up being
seated
conveniently in front of a window so Terry and I could observe them
undetected. At some point the tears began to fall. Terry asked what was
wrong. I dashed them away with the excuse of an allergy. After what
seemed
the longest dinner in the world. The Doctor and his lady friend
returned to
her apartment.

 Doctor Quest remained there for two hours. While tailing him back to
his
hotel, Terry tried to make jokes about Doctor Quest and his significant
other. My sole response was a curt, "Shut up Terry." We drove back to
HQ in
silence. I tried to apologize to Terry. He accused me of shutting him
out
and he was right. I was too tired to fight, and not ready to talk, so
we
agreed on a truce.

 When we arrived back at HQ I noticed Corven's car in the garage. I
told
Terry I was going to go talk to Phil for a little while. Terry asked if
I
wanted him to come along to chaperon. I told him, "No," and wished him
a
good night.

 On the way up to Phil's office I stopped long enough to get a
Coca-Cola®
from a vending machine. I knocked on Corven's door. He answered with a
simple, "Come." I sat down and opened the drink taking a swallow. Then
I
asked him why he was wasting two agents on this surveillance
assignment.

 Phil shot me one of those 'I don't need to explain my reason's to you'
looks. He then reminded me of Doctor Quest's importance to the
government.
OK, so who was the woman? The lady was Miss Kathy Martin, Doctor
Quest's
fiancée. I choked on a swallow of Coke.

 The Doctor was in town so that they could complete their wedding
plans. A
female agent would be assigned as a bodyguard for Miss Martin until the
wedding ceremony. Feigning disinterested I asked if that would be my
next
assignment. No, Corven told me he had a job 'out country' that he was
assigning to me. I would be flying out the following Saturday for a
three
dayer. Either Sherry or Daria would receive the assignment to Miss
Martin.
At that I stood up and wished him a good night.

 I started to tell Phil that assigning Daria to guard Miss Martin was
like
asking a fox to guard the hen house. I could well imagine Daria
offering to
comfort Doctor Quest over the lose of his fiancée. Most people don't
think
of women as having 'locker-room chats'---those people don't know female
Intelligence-One agents. Doctor Quest had inspired Daria to wax
poetically .
. . on more than one occasion . . . on what she would like to do with
him if
she ever got him alone.

 It was comical to hear Daria swear that Bannon was really there to
protect
the Doctor from the hordes of women that would throw themselves at him.
A
taking of the vote of how many present would throw themselves at Doctor
Benton Quest if given the opportunity usually followed this comment.
The
votes were always unanimous.

 When it came to discussing Doctor Quest . . . Daria could make a
construction worker blush! And here Corven was considering letting her
be
the Doctor's fiancée's bodyguard!

 I headed for the nearest ladies' room. Once there, I went on a
rampage. I
wanted the assignment to guard Miss Martin for just 10 minutes. She
would
wish she had never heard of Doctor Benton Christopher- Robin Quest by
the
time I was through with her and she sure, as Hell wouldn't be marrying
him
either by the time I finished.

 I kicked the trashcan and hammered the wall. I howled my rage. Just
wait
until I saw Race Bannon again he was a dead man walking. How dare
Doctor
Quest use me for a final fling before his wedding? I couldn't believe
my
naiveté. I thought of all sorts of delightfully painful things to do to
both
men. Doctor Benton Christopher-Robin Quest had made me cry more since I
had
met him than I had cried in my entire life. DAMN HIM! I HATE HIM! I was
only
being self-deceived. I could say that as many times as I wanted to and
it
wouldn't change how I really felt about him. How fortunate for me that
it
was late on Friday night. I can well imagine what the rumors would have
been
if someone had witnessed 'The Ice Princess of I-1' having a tantrum.

 For the whole length of the assignment it was always the same hotel,
brownstone, restaurant, brownstone, and back to his hotel. Would the
week
never end?

Acknowledgments:
"LIFE IS A LEMON AND I WANT MY MONEY BACK" performing artist Meat Loaf

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"PAINTED DESERT"

 On the following Friday, Terry talked me into going to McGruff's Bar
and
Grill after we returned to HQ. I picked up my car and followed Terry to
the
bar.

 McGruff's is a hangout for I-1 agents sort of a second home, or a
place to
go in between assignments. The owner's name was Robert McGruff; we all
called him Mac. I stopped at the bar long enough to hug Mac and grab a
beer
before Terry and I joined the other agents.

 I forgot Rule # 1 of drinking---Never drink on an empty stomach. As I
drank
the second beer, I let my eyes wonder over the crowd. Terry had left to
play
pool while I was drinking the second beer. Mac brought me a third beer;
by
now I was getting a little light headed.

 Agent Al Shepherd brought me a fourth beer. Al always dressed in jeans
that
were a size too tight. "You shouldn't drink alone," he said as he
placed the
bottle on the table in front of me.

 I looked at him. "Who said I was alone? I want to be alone." He walked
off,
boy those tight jeans sure looked nice on him tonight. He sat down a
couple
of tables away. Finally, he got up and walked to the jukebox.

 Al tapped me on the shoulder as the opening strains of Aerosmith's
"Walk on
Water" began to play. I extended my hand. He swirled me out of my
chair.

 A cheer went up from the gathered I-1 agents, along with more hoots
and
catcalls, "Get her Al," or "Take him out Will." We moved to the dance
floor;
everyone in the bar stopped what they were doing to watch us. We bumped
and
ground against each other. Al and I became swept up in the pulse and
beat of
the music. The catcalls continued egging us on as we danced.

 As the song closed, I slipped from Al's arms. Grabbing my jacket I
headed
for the side door. At some point during the dance I realized that no
matter
how desperately I wanted those brown eyes to be periwinkle blue, they
never
could or would be. It was unfair of me to do this to Al. It would be
better
for me to be celibate for the rest of my life than to deceive him or
try to
deceive myself.

 I didn't find out until later that Race Bannon and Doctor Quest had
been in
the bar that night.

Acknowledgments:
"PAINTED DESERT" performing artist Pat Benatar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"LIKE THE WAY I DO"

 My little three day mission kept me out of the country for three and a
half
weeks. Phil Corven sent me from one mission to another and another. I
didn't
know what day or time it was half of the time because I was constantly
changing time zones. This assignment was in England. The next
assignment was
in the Philippines. Then it was back to Italy. From there I think I
went to
Hong Kong, then to Australia, or was it the other way around?

 At least I didn't have to read about the wedding in the society page
or
hear about it on the news. At the moment I was too tired to care.

 I finally returned home to a house where I still hadn't unpacked my
belongings. I fell into bed late one Wednesday night almost one month
to the
day from the last time I had seen Benton with Kathy Martin. I had off
until
Monday. However, at eight o'clock the following morning Phil Corven
called.

 I was to report to his office at ten o'clock sharp. Phil Corven called
six
agents into his office. Terry, Al, three junior agents (Jeff Robinson
and
two others, I don't remember their names) and myself. There was a
dinner at
the UN the following night in honor of visiting dignitaries.
Intelligence-One was providing the security. We would be leaving at two
o'
clock that day to set up our equipment; be on time and no excuses.

 Since it was a black tie affair, we needed to dress appropriately.
That was
not a problem for the male agents; they all had tuxedos. I didn't have
anything. I had never needed anything like this before. I requested
that
Phil consider another agent, since I didn't have anything to wear.

 Corven assured me I would have time to pick something up in New York
before
the dinner. He knew I wasn't using the typical female excuse that I was
sincere but I was going and that was that. He wanted the best
electronics
person I-1 had, and that was me.

 I made a mad dash to 5th Avenue on Friday afternoon. How I let the
saleswoman talk me into my ensemble I still don't know. She dressed me
from
inside and out in forest green. The dress itself was a beaded and
sequined
thing; low cut with short sleeves. It struck me at the top of my knees
with
a daring split up to mid-thigh on my left side.

 I found a jewelry store that specialized in imitation jewelry. There I
picked up a surprisingly good suite of fake emeralds and diamonds,
necklace,
earrings and bracelet. There was even a matching cocktail ring. Nothing
compared to the real things that my grandmothers had given me, but they
were
back in DC.

 My final stop was a beauty salon. I wanted to have something more
stylish
than my normal wash and blow dry, plus I needed to pick up cosmetics
(something I didn't possess). I did own some perfume. It was Cinnabar
by
Estee Lauder. With my hair styled and all my goodies I slipped back
into our
hotel carefully avoiding the other agents.

 We were to meet in the lobby at 5 o'clock. I timed my arrival to the
minute. When I walked out of the evaluator the junior agents gawked. Al
let
go with a long loud whistle and a "Hello, Wilhelmina." Terry smiled and
winked. Corven took my hand and kissed it. We left for the banquet hall
to
review security. We also needed to meet with the other agents who would
be
there on behalf of their governments.

 Simon Templar of the Ministry greeted me with a hug and a kiss.
"Wilhelmina
Harkness, you look absolutely ravishing tonight. Save me a dance," he
smiled
down at me. No wonder the other female agents lived for dressing like
this;
I never knew what power the right clothes could weld. One of the French
agents collided with an Italian agent; both had been watching me
instead of
where they were going.

 Terry smiled, "Will, you do look great tonight."

 I giggled like a schoolgirl; "I can't believe how much of a fuss this
dress
is causing."

 Terry laughed back, "No, I think it's more like how well you fill it
out
that's causing the fuss." We finished the final check on the
surveillance
equipment.

 At seven o'clock the guests began to arrive for cocktails. I was
mingling
with the guests when I heard his voice. I didn't need to see him to
know how
drop dead gorgeous and dashing he would look in his tuxedo. I wanted to
run
and hide. I didn't want to see him with the new Mrs. Quest.

 I was trying to figure a way out of the reception hall when Corven
wrapped
his arm around my waist and steered me towards the sound of Benton
Quest's
voice. "Madame President, Doctor Quest, may I present one of our best
agents, Ms. Wilhelmina Harkness," Phil said with his arm still firmly
wrapped around my waist. Madame President was Alena Stasny, tall,
willowy,
rich auburn hair, blue eyes, and a long slender neck. Beside her I
looked
like an ugly duckling.

 Corven retained his grip on my waist as he exchanged pleasantries with
Doctor Quest. I complimented Madame President on her turquoise gown and
her
aquamarine jewelry. Her musical accented laugh filled the room, "I am
amazed, someone who can tell the difference between aquamarines and
blue
topaz."

 I smiled slowly, "My grandmamas' always said that you could tell a
lady's
breeding by her knowledge of gemstones." We hated each other instantly.
She
pretended interest in my jewelry. I told her not to bother, that it was
paste. I was trying hard not to look at Benton, or to noticeably
struggle
out of Phil's hold.

 Terry rescued me on the pretense that we had a small equipment problem
in
the dining hall that only I could fix. As we walked away, Terry asked
me
what the heck Corven was doing. I told him I didn't have a clue, what
was
his impression on what had happened. He couldn't explain it either, but
seeing Doctor Quest reminded Terry that Bannon needed to talk to me
about
something important. I asked him when he had seen Race. His response
was a
couple of weeks ago.

 Then he told me that maybe it was a case of 'One-upmanship.'

 I shot him a look, "Explain, please."

Terry said it was simple; "the two best-looking babes here tonight are
Madame President and yours truly."

"So, what does that have to do with Corven's arm around my waist?" I
questioned.

 "Gee, Will, you really don't know a lot about men and pissing
contest." He
replied, "It's easy; Doctor Quest is Madame President's escort so, she
is
off limits. Phil is pretending to be your escort; look, but don't
touch.
Which man is the luckier of the two? The one escorting the elegant swan
or
the one squiring the glittering hummingbird?"

 I shook my head, "Terry, that's the craziest thing I have ever heard."

 He smiled, "You'll see." Before I could voice my curiosity about why
the
new Mrs. Quest wasn't there we were interrupted.

 I managed to avoid Doctor Quest, Race and Corven until dinner. Before
I cou
ld slip into the background with the other agents Phil caught me. Again
with
his arm around my waist he led me to the table where Doctor Quest,
Alena
Stasny and Race were sitting. Madame President was seated between
Benton and
Race. Corven sat between Benton and me leaving an open seat between
Bannon
and me.

 I really wasn't paying much attention to the conversation. I was
confused
by Phil's behavior, he acted as if we had somewhat of a personal
relationship; but there wasn't one. Corven's actions that night implied
an
intimacy that didn't exist. Race leaned over and tapped me on my arm he
mouthed, "Are you all right? I need to talk to you." My response was a
shoulder shrug. I excused myself to "powder my nose."

 I stood for a long time on the mezzanine watching the dinner progress.
Something struck me wrong about the wine steward for our table. He did
something furtively to the bottle of wine he was getting ready to pour.

 Without thinking I vaulted the mezzanine dropping on the table below
me
sending people and food scattering. The table tilted and dumped me on
the
floor. I screamed, "TERRY, WINE STEWARD," as I rolled up onto one knee
pulling my revolver. I shot the centerpiece off our table that cleared
everyone away causing them to drop their wineglasses.

 Terry tackled the wine steward. I stood up, so much for my dress. One
sleeve was ripped half way off and I now had two side splits to the
thigh.
One shoe was missing the heel and my hose were now in ribbons. My hair
was
decorated with foodstuff along with the rest of me. The cops rushed
into the
banquet hall.

 I was ordered to drop my weapon and move away from it. I did as told.
I
dropped my revolver. Then the unthinkable happened; Corven ordered me
handcuffed and arrested for the attempted murder of Madame President
Alena
Stasny.

 Terry began to protest. Phil silenced him with a warning that if he
continued he would be arrested on the grounds of conspiring to
assassinate
the President of the Czech Republic. Al appeared from nowhere dropping
his
tuxedo jacket over my shoulders; he would ride with me to the police
station. Benton Quest didn't even look at me. He was to busy comforting
Alena Stasny.

 I was processed through at the police station and placed in a holding
cell.
The next day I was released, it had indeed been the wine steward. He
had
injected a powerful poison into the wine and everyone at the table
would
have died in less than an hour if they had drunk the wine. I was a hero
but
there was no apology or thank you coming from Phil Corven or anyone
else.

 I had learned my lesson. I was to avoid Benton Quest at all cost; or
else
things would go badly for me. Doctor Quest was a bad luck charm for me.
No
matter how hard I tired, I couldn't find out what had happened to Kathy
Martin. Did the Doctor marry Miss Martin? Alena Stasny had been hanging
all
over him at the banquet. If he did marry Miss Martin then why had he
escorted Madame President? I did my assignments. I still hadn't
unpacked all
of my belongings and I continued to haunted Terry's house, silent and
restless.

Acknowledgments:
"LIKE THE WAY I DO" performing artist Melissa Etheridge

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"PLAY THE GAME"

 October 23 started out as any other day at I-1 HQ; that was until late
that
afternoon. I was perched on the counter of the break room. Al, Terry,
and a
handful of other agents were in there with me. Suddenly we could hear
yelling from the reception area.

 One of the junior agents opened the door. A man's voice could be heard
echoing down the hallway, "I don't care what your orders are, I want to
see
________ and I want to see ________ now." We all looked at each other;
nobody had been able to make out the name. The shouting continued,
"Well,
then where is Corven?"

 "I'm sorry sir, he's in a meeting and can not be disturbed," replied
the
receptionist voice, followed by, "Sir, you can't do that."

 The sound of doors being flung open resounded down the hallway. I sat
still. The guys went into battle mode. As the break room door exploded
inward I was surprised to see Benton Quest standing there. Behind him
was a
man in a black suit, Bannon, and the three teenagers (Benton's 2 sons
and
Race's daughter). Benton was dressed in a soft gray wool suit with a
blue
shirt that enhanced the periwinkle blue of his eyes. A necktie with a
muted
design completed his outfit.

 He stalked across the room towards me. I held my ground; I wouldn't
run and
I'd be damned if he would make me cry again. He stood there staring at
me,
and then he spoke, "Mike." The man in the black suit came forward to
stand
near us.

 "Benton Christopher-Robin Quest, do you take this woman as your true
and
lawful wife; and God helping you, do you promise to love, cherish,
honor,
and protect her, cleaving only and ever unto her, until death shall
separate
you? Do you?" The person in black asked.

 Benton replied. "I do."

 The man called Mike turned to me, "Wilhelmina Stoker Harkness, do you
take
this man as your true and lawful husband; and God helping you, do you
promise to love, cherish, honor, and protect him, cleaving only and
ever
unto him, until death shall separate you? Do you?"

 "I . . . " I said trailing off into confusion.

 Mike looked at Benton with a raised eyebrow and then back at me. Terry
came
over and sat on the counter beside me. He grinned at everyone, "Time
for my
ventriloquist act. Watch this you'll barely see my lips move". He
placed his
left hand on my neck and in a loud stage whisper, "I do. Just two
simple
little words, Will, that's all you have to say is I do, 'Kay?"

 I shook my head. "I do."

 "Then by the powers invested in me by God and the state of Virginia I
now
pronounce you husband and wife." Mike looked at Benton, "Was that short
and
sweet enough for you Benton?"

 Benton laughed, "Well, it could have been shorter."

 This time Mike laughed, "Benton don't you think you should explain
what
just happened to your bride? She doesn't look like she fully
comprehends
what just happened. Are there any rings?"

 Race stepped forward; "Here they are Doctor." Benton took my left hand
and
slid a white gold band on my left ring finger. He held out his palm,
resting
in it was a matching man's band. I picked it up, still stunned by what
had
just happened and slid the ring on his finger. I sat there transfixed
not
knowing what to say or do. Mike told Benton to kiss his bride and kiss
me he
did.

 I tried to ask Benton questions, every time I asked one he would
silence me
with a quick kiss. News of the break room wedding had spread like wild
fire
throughout the Agency. Even the female agents who couldn't stand me
were
crying. I not sure if this was in delight to be rid of me or because of
how
romantic it was. The senior agents hugged me and shook Benton's hand.
The
junior agents just wished us well. Corven only walked away in disgust
after
having confirmed the rumor.

 So I married your husband wearing a lime green terry T-shirt with
Marvin
the Martian and Daffy Duck embroidered on the left breast pocket, black
jeans and black running shoes. Benton apologized for the ring, telling
me I
could have anything I wanted to replace it. Why he would think I would
want
anything other than the simple band of white gold is beyond me. Maybe
it was
because I kept staring at it, expecting it to vanish if I took my eyes
off
it.

 I asked about the boys. Benton laughed, "It was suggested that if it
was
driving me crazy not being with you, then maybe I should just marry
you." I
protested that he really didn't know me. Why did he marry a stranger?
"We'll
have the rest of our lives to get to know each other," Benton shrugged
his
shoulders. I only shook my head.

 Someone had found a CD player; it was blasting out Meat Loaf's "I'd Do
Anything For Love (but I won't do that)". Benton lifted me off the
counter,
and we began to slow dance, (really we were just holding each other and
swaying to the music). Someone else produced champagne. We toasted our
marriage in Styrofoam coffee cups. Race asked if we were ready to
leave.
Both of us answered, "Yes!" I told Race we needed to go back to my
place
first. I had to get something. Benton said he would send someone for my
things later. I told him no this was vitally important to me.

 Before we could leave Intelligence-One Headquarters, Phil Corven asked
Race, Benton and me to step into his office for just a brief moment.
Once
inside Phil's office he pulled the rug out from under us---there wasn't
a
problem with Doctor Quest and me being married as long as no one ever
found
out about it.

 I was a valuable Intelligence One agent. The government had invested a
considerable amount of money in me . . . I couldn't just walk away from
the
agency. I wasn't expendable and the agency couldn't assign an agent to
protect an agent.

 "Doctor, you've made one of my best agents a target for your enemies."
Corven scowled at the three of us. "And don't think you're innocent
Bannon .
. . you were there; you should have stopped them."

 By the time we left Phil Corven's office we had all agreed that the
only
logical thing to do was to keep the marriage a secret. Phil's arguments
were
all flawless; the only people who would ever know the truth about my
relationship with Doctor Quest would be the ones who HAD to know.

 Bannon and I went in to retrieve the article. It was my personal safe.
The
limo visibly settled lower as we put it into the trunk. It was Jonny
who
couldn't resist his curiosity, "Ms. Harkn . . . Mrs. Quest . . . "

 I let him off the hook, "How about Will?"

 "'Kay. Will, what's in the box?" His blue eyes dancing with the same
sparkle of excitement as his father's eyes.

 Nonchalantly I answered, "My dowry."

 There was an echo in the car, "Dowry?!?" Race and Benton lugged the
safe up
to the suite of the hotel were the Quest Team was staying. They lowered
the
safe. Bannon opened the door. Benton swept me up into his arms and
carried
me across the threshold.

 Once everyone was inside, Jonny couldn't stand it any longer, "What
does
your dowry look like?" I opened the little safe, out spilled all the
heirloom jewelry my grandmothers had given me. My dowry was antique
jewelry,
some pieces hundreds of years old, set with sapphires, emeralds,
aquamarines, canary yellow diamonds, and regular diamonds.

 The last thing out was a large purple velvet box, inside was a tiara
set
with diamonds and a diamond necklace. A collective "WOW" went up from
the
group. There were papers in there as well. Race looked through them and
started to laugh. We all turned to look at him.

 Bannon smiled, "Hey, Benton you know that small electronics firm
you've
been wanting to buy? The one where you couldn't locate the person who
owned
49% of the shares? Well, you can quit looking; you married her this
afternoon." This sent everyone into gales of laughter. Jonny complained
of
being hungry, so we went to dinner.

Acknowledgments:
"PLAY THE GAME" performing artist Queen

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"I DON'T WANT TO WAIT"

 When we returned Benton yawned. I smiled at him, "That's a cue if I
ever
heard one, but I can't sleep without taking a shower." This time Benton
smiled and started to say something.

 Bannon stopped him, "Remember the kids."

 I dropped a quick kiss on Benton's forehead and whispered, "Don't you
think
you need to talk to the boys to make sure they understand, or ask them
how
they feel about us sleeping together?" Benton sighed his agreement as I
turned to leave.

 While I was hiding in the bathroom after my nightly pre-bed time
ritual I
bemoaned the fact that I hadn't taken the time to grab any clothes or
toiletries, especially my Cinnabar, when I had gone by my place. I sat
down
at the vanity and noticed a gift basket. It was made up of Cinnabar
perfume,
body lotion and powder. The card read 'Forever, B', like a foolish
schoolgirl I hugged the card and kissed it. I wondered, *How did he
know I
wore Cinnabar?*

 After applying lotion, powder, and perfume I dressed in the tiara and
necklace. I would leave the robe on until Benton entered the bedroom.
After
all, I didn't have anything else to wear. Finally, Bannon said
goodnight and
left for his suite to run the kids to bed. I had left only one light on
low
in the bedroom, and as Benton turned to lock the door, I slipped out of
the
bathroom area and dropped the robe.

 When Benton turned he gasped as I stood there in nothing but all those
diamonds. His eyebrow arched up in a silent question. I smiled, "Family
tradition; this is what the bride wears on her wedding night."

 He moved towards me slowly, "Let's hear it for family traditions. I
don't
know which is the more magnificent you---or you and the diamonds."

 My arms reached up, he smiled down and inhaled deeply, "Cinnabar".

 I smiled back, "How did you know?"

 I had almost forgotten how warm his rich, full, baritone chuckle could
be,
"The dinner in New York."

 "I never told you what I was wearing," I said. "We hardly even spoke
to one
another. So how did you know?"

 "Honestly?" Benton questioned me. I shook my head yes. He sighed, "I
went
to a department store and smelled every perfume there until I found it.
Silly, huh?"

 I hugged him, "No, that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard." I
leaned up to kiss him.

 "Dance with me. Like you danced with him." I frowned; when had he ever
seen
me dance? "That night at McGruff's. The one with the tight jeans."

 "You were there?" I asked faintly.

 "Race thought someone there might know where to find you," he
responded. "I
wanted to talk to you. I was desperate to see you."

 "Why?" I asked.

 His heavy sigh told me volumes; "I wanted to tell you how I felt about
you.
I wanted to know if it might be possible for you to feel the same way
about
me." He sat down on the side of the bed. "When I saw him; he was so
handsome. The way you looked at each other, the way you moved together
as
you danced. Then you were gone and I learned that there was nothing
between
you except for the dancing. No one there knew where you were living or
how
to get in touch with you. Corven wouldn't tell me either; he said it
was for
your own protection."

 "I'm confused; if you were looking for me, then why did you keep
having
dinner with Kathy Martin? Phil told me you were there finalizing your
wedding plans. I saw you have dinner with her every night for a week."

 Benton gave me a sad little laugh. "I had asked Kathy to help me. We
were
meeting at night to trade information and ideas on how to locate you."

 I laughed a sad little laugh. "All you had to do was look in the car
that
was tailing your limousine."

 I kissed his cheek, "Al may look good, but trust me, you look better.
Let's
dance." I love Aerosmith. We ended up dancing to "Walk on Water", "Love
In
An Elevator" and "Rag Doll". As we danced, I learned that Benton was a
very
talented dance partner. Would I miss dancing with Al? NEVER. Even now
the
thought of dancing with Benton, regardless of the type of music we're
dancing to, leaves me breathless.

 "I'm hitting the mini-bar. I hear a candy bar and a Coca-Cola calling
my
name," I whispered against his lips.

 Ben groaned, "You're as bad as Jonny. I'll go get it, there maybe
something
in there that's semi-nutritious. I'm thirsty myself, maybe Hadji and
Jessie
haven't drank up all the spring water yet." He didn't bother putting a
bathrobe on over his pajamas. He was only wearing the bottoms; I had
commandeered the top for my own use.

 I heard a strangled cry come from the living room of the suite,
"JONNY!!"

 A teenage voice cracked on the word, "Dad."

 "Shouldn't you be in bed young man?" The baritone voice sounded
strained.

 I could visualize Jonny's wide blue eyes, "I was hungry, and since I
couldn
't find the mini-bar key over there, I came over here to get a snack. I
didn
't mean to interrupt you. I didn't mean to disturb you. I mean . . . I
was
trying to be quiet."

 Benton sounded tired and old, "Go to bed, Son."

 Jonny spoke in little more than a whisper, "Good night Dad."

 "Good night Son," Benton replied as softly.

 When Doctor Quest returned to our bedroom things between us had
changed. I
asked him if he wanted to talk about it. He wouldn't even look at me. I
told
him that I realized there was going to have to be a period of
adjustment for
all of us, but we would live through it.

 He told me that I just didn't understand. How much Jonny loved and
worshipped you. How much both of them adored and loved you. How you
were
their life. My response was, "Why? Why did you marry me, Doctor Quest?"
Benton looked at me strangely.

 I was determined not to cry. How does one fight a ghost? The words
came
fast and furious. "What qualified me over Miss Martin and Madame
President?
The fact that I know more show tunes, or maybe it's because I'm an
Intelligence-One agent. Is that it? You know I can handle getting shot
and
handcuffed. Hey, you don't have to worry about me as much as you would
one
of them. I can handle myself in a fight. Besides, if things don't work
out
maybe you'll get lucky and I'll get killed in the line of duty. Come
on,
Doctor Quest let's hear your reason for marrying a complete stranger?!"

 I looked at him with cold fury; "I WILL NOT share you with any other
woman
living or dead. I don't want you to forget Rachel, but I will NOT spend
the
rest of my life wondering if it's her you're thinking of when you're
with
me. I don't want to always wonder if you're thinking, 'Hey, she's not
Rachel
but if I close my eyes I can pretend she is.'"

 As I finished my little speech I began to pull my jeans on. "Why are
you
getting dressed?" Doctor Quest asked in a monotone voice.

 I snarled, "Because my soon to be ex-husband, I can't stay in this
room. It
's to crowded. So, I'm going down stairs to get a room. That way you
and
Rachel won't be disturbed by my presence. In the morning I'll go
downtown
and get this little travesty straighten out. That way we can pretend
this
never happened and you won't have to worry about feeling guilty. I'll
stop
back by and pick up my jewelry. Don't worry about the little
electronics
company you wanted. I'll sign my shares over to you. You deserve them .
. .
after all, you had me convinced for a little while that maybe you cared
about me."

 Benton reached out and stripped the sash from a bathrobe. I have to
give
him credit, he can move almost as swiftly and gracefully as Bannon. In
the
time it took for me to realize what he was planning on doing he had one
of
my wrist tied to the writing desk chair. As I tried to free my wrist he
pushed me into the chair and lifted his necktie from the valet securing
my
other wrist.

 "Untie me!" I hissed as I kicked at him.

 He captured the ankle; "If you kick me again I will restrain your
ankles."
The look he gave me was hard and dark---almost sinister.

 "Untie me, or I'll scream," I demanded.

 The rich baritone took on a malicious tone, "Not until you calm down."

 I was royally pissed, "I swear I'll scream."

 "Then I will be forced to stifle your screams," he smirked at me.

 I inhaled to let lose a blood-curdling scream. He lifted my chin
covering
my mouth with his. It didn't take much for the scream to turn into a
deeply
passionate kiss. When the kiss ended; he calmly sat down on the bed and
watched me struggle to untie myself.

 I gave up and asked him, "If it's going to make you feel guilty or
unfaithful to Rachel whenever we're together, then why did you marry
me? You
've put her on such a high pedestal. How can I ever measure up to her?
Am I
supposed to live the rest of my life in her shadow? If so, then I'd
rather
live alone. I'll admit that I want you, but I don't want Rachel's ghost
between us. Why me, Benton? Why not Kathy Martin, or Madame President
Alena
Stasny? We all are going to have to go through a period of adjustment,
my
love. This morning I woke up a single I-1 agent with no one to answer
to
except for the Agency and myself. Tonight I'm going to bed as a wife
and the
stepmother of two teenage boys. I haven't dealt with teenage boys since
I
was a teenager myself. I don't know how to act around them, or what to
say.
What about disciplinary actions, do I leave those to you, or will I be
allowed to reprimand them? One day I'm sure Jonny will give me the 'I
don't
have to listen to you, because you're not my mom' thing. What should my
reaction be?"

 I followed up this speech with an apology for losing my temper. He
looked
at me, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk to much? That's the
longest I
have ever heard anyone talk without taking a breath. No, I take that
back;
Jonny can do it." My response was a heavy sigh and to pull against my
restraints. "OK, number one somehow, you make the pain of losing Rachel
more
tolerable," he leaned over and kissed me. "Number two, I guess you're
right
. . . remind me if you think I'm doing it again," another kiss. "Number
three . . . no. Would you really rather be alone than with me?"

 It was driving me mad not to be able to touch him, "No, not unless you
drive me away." It was an honest answer.

 He rubbed his beard against my neck, I gasped because it tickled, he
followed that with another kiss, and "Number four---Because of this."

 "You married me because of the way I kiss?" For some reason that hurt
my
feelings.

 A warm chuckle drifted on the air, "No, well yes, but that's not the
only
reason. I realized something was missing in my life. I haven't felt
this way
about anyone since Rachel."

 I blushed, he laughed, "Let's see I think I'm up to number five. 'Why
not
Kathy Martin or Alena Stasny?' I told you about Kathy when we were on
the
island; we became engaged for all the wrong reasons. There was no
passion
between us. We're still friends. I mean, we go out to dinner whenever
I'm in
town, but that's it. Alena and I go back to our college days. I just
can't
imagine us being anything other than just friends, besides Alena's
never
been interested in me that way and remember my answer to number four."

 "Well, you haven't been paying very much attention to Madame President
then," I quipped at him. "She looks at you like you're a hot fudge
sundae
with all the trimmings." I was rewarded with a laugh for that.

 Benton was standing behind me nibbling on my neck, "Question six," I
asked
taking a deep gulp.

 "Hmmm, I not doing as well as I thought I was in distracting you. Be
yourself."

 "Oh your doing an excellent job, but it's the Intelligence-One
training," I
gasped out breathlessly. He had moved so that he was now kneeling in
front
of me; his lips teased mine.

 "And seven?" I whispered against his lips.

 "Can we talk about this later? I have something much more interesting
in
mind than talking." Once again his lips covered mine. For now I could
live
with this. I knew he would never forget you, but I wasn't asking him to
do
that. I just didn't want to always wonder if when we were together he
was
wishing it were you instead of me. Somehow he managed to untie me
without
taking his lips off of mine, that night I learned exactly how clever
Doctor
Benton Quest could be.

Acknowledgments:
"I DON'T WANT TO WAIT" performing artist Paula Cole
"Walk on Water", "Love In An Elevator", and "Rag Doll" performing
artist
Aerosmith.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE"

 The following morning I woke up as if nothing had changed in my life.
Things had changed though; Ben was asleep on his stomach with an arm
and leg
thrown haphazardly over me. I resisted the impulse to touch him;
instead I
kissed his temple and wiggled out from under him.

 I showered, dressed and left the bedroom to join the rest of my
instant
family. Instant family: yes, that sums it up. Yesterday at this time I
was a
single I-1 agent. Today however, I had a husband, two teenage sons, a
teenage daughter, and a brother-in-law. As odd as it sounds, daughter
and
brother-in-law is a fitting description for the Bannons. Benton
couldn't
love them anymore if they were blood relatives.

 Race was reading the newspaper sprawled on the couch with his feet on
the
coffee table.
 The kids were channel surfing. I recommended the Sci-Fi channel,
suggesting
that maybe an anime movie was on. The three-some just looked at me, but
settled on the Sci-Fi channel, lucky me; "Vampire Hunter D" was coming
on
next.

 I got a Coke, a Mounds bar, and a bottle of water out of the mini-bar,
and
settled on the couch with Bannon. Race took one look at my breakfast
and
commented, "Great, Jonny's bad enough, but now we've got two of you.
How do
you two eat that stuff so early in the morning?"

 Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was 10 o'clock, "It's not that
early,
besides, aren't sugar and caffeine two of the major food groups?" Jonny
tried to sneak a glance in my direction without my knowledge.

 During the closing credits of "Vampire Hunter D" Bannon leaned over,
"What
did you do to the Doc, kill him?"

 I flashed Race my best Cheshire cat grin, "No, just tired him out." I
stood
up and stretched, "I need to run back to the house and get some
clothes,
anyone care to ride with me? We'll stop for pizza on the way. Whoever
goes
can ramble through the boxes that I haven't unpacked."

 The thought of going somewhere had appealed to Jessie, she had started
to
say yes, but her loyalty lay with Jonny. It was only Jonny's curiosity
that
got the better of him. All three teenagers agreed to go. I ordered Race
to
stay and guard Benton. Race informed me that the Doc could take care of
himself. If we needed help he could go with us.

 "No, stay here, he's sleeping," I looked Bannon in the eyes. "Please
Race,
he's more important to me than life itself. Guard him for me until I
 return." The four of us walked to the door, Jonny and Hadji looking at
me
strangely as we went.

 At the door I turned, "Hey Snow! I'll need the car keys."

 Bannon shot me a dirty look, "Here's the keys, but don't call me Snow,
Brat."

 "I'm shaking in my shoes, Snow." Jessie cracked up; she'd never seen
anyone
back talk her dad before.

 At Mario's, the little place we stopped at for pizza, Jonny and Jessie
split a large garbage while Hadji and I shared a vegetarian. Jonny ate
like
a starved wolf; explaining that, "Dad always makes me eat pizzas with
just
one meat topping, and the rest have to be vegetables." He pulled a face
that
you couldn't help but smile at. I wanted so much to hug this child; he
was
so much like his father.

 I knew at that moment that I would die to protect him, just as I would
die
to protect his father. I tried blinking away a tear but it fell anyway.
Hadji sensed my distress. He wanted to comfort me but he wasn't sure
why I
was distressed, or how to comfort me. If I hadn't already lost my heart
to
Benton, I would have lost it to his sons.

 When we got ready to leave, Mario came by to take the money. He asked
how
my young friends liked his pizza. They all sang choruses of praise. I
corrected Mario, these weren't just young friends, these were my
children.
Everyone looked at me as if I was from another planet, at that I
suggested
we leave.

 Once at the house I began to throw things in my duffel bag, panties,
sports
bras, socks, jeans, running shorts, T-shirts, tank tops. Into another
bag
went my army boots, camouflage fatigues, another pair of running shoes,
and
a pair of flip-flops. While I was doing this I could hear murmurs and
snatches of the conversations.

 Jonny's muted, "WOW, every Godzilla movie ever made."

 Jessie had found some pictures, "Look at this old fashion looking
picture.
I wonder who they are? I wonder who this little red headed girl is in
this
one? Hey, here's my mom and dad in this one."

 "What an extraordinary collection of books and music," Hadji softly
exclaimed, "Almost as impressive as Doctor Quest."

 I smiled as Jessie whispered, "Gee, I hope no one makes her mad. Look
at
all this stuff." The stuff that they were looking at turned out to be
my
Army and I-1 medals and accommodations.

 We left headed back to the hotel, within a block of the hotel we were
stopped by a roadblock. I asked the officers what was wrong; one told
me
some wacko was holding hostages in a small cafe across from the hotel.
I
leapt from the car, ordering the kids to stay there and the uniforms to
watch them.

 I ran to the police cars parked out front of the cafe. I asked for the
officer in charge showing him my FBI (Intelligence-One agents don't
carry
I-1 id, we always id ourselves as either FBI agents or private
investigators) id, and asked if I could be of assistance.

 I caught the sight of Jonny, Jessie, and Hadji heading down the
alleyway
beside the cafe. This was going to be hell to explain to Benton and
Race.
The trio entered the rear of the café, the gunman turned on them. I did
the
only thing I could think of.

 I sprinted full speed at the cafe's plate glass door, pulling my
revolver
as I ran. I raised my left arm over my eyes to protect them from flying
glass. I yelled at the guy to get out of my way. I wanted to shot the
three
teenagers myself. I yelled at the guy to drop his weapon or we were
going to
find out which one of us was having the worse day. I was at this moment
pissed but, hey, if he wanted to see what happened when I became
really,
highly, seriously pissed to just keep it.

 I must have scared the crap out of him because he dropped the gun and
started crying for me not to hurt him. The cops rushed in at this point
and
took him into custody.

 I grabbed Jonny, the obvious ringleader by his upper arm and dragged
him
from the cafe. Jessie and Hadji meekly followed us out. I slammed
Jonathan
against the building my left hand dug painfully into his upper arm. I
had a
handful of his shirt in my right fist and was pressing against his
chest
with my forearm.

 It really hadn't dawned on me until now that the kid was several
inches
taller than I was. I yelled up into his face, "How dare you do anything
that
stupid? What is it . . . do you have a death wish or something? Maybe
it's
OK for you to do this to your Dad and Race but, when I tell you to stay
put
I mean it. If you ever pull a bonehead stunt like this again, I'll kick
your
butt until your nose bleeds."

 I was panting hard and he was totally terrified of me. His eyes were
huge;
he looked on the verge of tears. I hugged him quickly and briefly
turning my
glare on Jessie and Hadji, "That goes for you two as well."

 I was still shaking, alternating between the desire to pass out, or
throw
up. Terry's sarcastic; "Hey, you want me to hold the kid so you can
slug him
a couple of times?" snapped my head up. I waved him away, and sat down
on
the curb. Terry joined me on the curb. Hostage situations always bring
FBI,
CIA, and I-1 agents running.

 "Gee, Will like you've taken the evil, wicked stepmother thing to a
completely new level so, are you through yelling?" Terry asked.

 I was sitting on the curb with my head between my knees; "Go away
Terry,
you're NOT funny."

 "So where's your hubby?" Terry asked.

 I whispered faintly, "The hotel, I hope. Terry take the kids back will
 you?" As far as I could tell they hadn't moved from the spot I'd left
them
in.

 Terry stood up, "Come on kids, I'll take you back to your dads."

 Hadji was the only one who spoke, "Yes, Sir."

 The police captain in charge asked me if I wanted a paramedic to look
at
the cut on my left arm. I thanked him but refused. Slowly, I stood up.

 When I reached the room I had to knock since I didn't have a key. When
Race
opened the door. I fell forward into his arms.

 Bannon yelled, "Benton!" as he lifted me in his arms.

 "The kids are safe," I told him.

 Race assured me, "Yes, Terry is here he told us what happened." Bannon
laid
me down on the bed. Benton ran to the bathroom to get towels and a wash
cloth to clean my wounds. I must have blacked out.
 

 The next thing I heard was the sound of the kids being lectured by
both
fathers. I went to the door, "It's not their fault. I suggested they go
with
me."

 Benton turned on me, "How could you endanger them that way. What were
you
thinking?"

 I sighed, "I guess I wasn't."

 "Don't ever do this again, Wilhelmina. I will not tolerate
irresponsibility
when it comes to my sons," Benton glared at me with cold fury.

 "Yes, Doctor Quest, I'll remember," I turned around and went back into
the
bedroom.

 As I lay down on the bed, Terry's voice spoke, "Doctor Quest."

 I knew that tone, Terry who seldom got angry was getting ready to
unload on
Benton but Jonny's voice interrupted him, "Dad it's my fault she told
us to
stay put and even asked some policemen to watch us. We didn't listen,
she
said the next time we didn't listen to her, she'd kick our butts until
our
noses bled." Race stifled a laugh.

 The bedroom door opened. Benton sat on the edge of the bed; he kissed
my
forehead and whispered an apology. A medical doctor friend of his was
on the
way over to look me over. I told him it wasn't necessary, I was fine,
it was
just a little scratch.

 Doctor Richard Lane was an old friend of Benton's. After declaring
that I
would live. He set about bandaging the cut, which ran from wrist to
elbow.
One small section was deep enough to require a couple of stitches. A
few
places he used surgical tape on to pull together so the scaring
wouldn't be
so bad. Doctor Lane gave Benton some pain pills for me to take if it
started
hurting before he left.

 It was decided that the group would stay in and have room service for
dinner. Terry was invited to stay and accepted. I went to take a shower
before dinner. Dinner turned out to be three I-1 agents regaling the
rest
with stories of the Agency.

 Much to my embarrassment Terry told of the time that I had taken a
stroll
through the men's locker room yelling, "Close your eyes, there's a lady
present."

 Race joined in; "Yeah, and we actually did close our eyes."

 I told everyone about the time that Race had received a coin and an
address
when we were in Japan. Race blushed. I took a sip of water, "What was
it
that the coin had meant? Oh, yeah, 'I yen for you'."

 The kids giggled and shouted for more stories. There were stories of
how
women were always falling at Terry and Race's feet and how I always
played
the insanely jealous little woman. Bannon was laughing so hard he was
almost
crying when he told of the time that I had used a fire ax on his hotel
room
door ala 'Jack Nicholson in The Shining'. Neither Terry nor Race
escaped
from having embarrassing stories told about them.

 Terry was snorting with laughter when he turned to Benton; "Did you
know
that Will belly dances? No, I'm not kidding either. Ask Bannon."

 "Yes, Will is quite the houri when she wants to be," Race nodded in
agreement. I turned the same shade of red as Bannon's shirt.

 "And when you're drunk enough Bannon you can dance the pipe horn.
Isn't
that what that sailor's dance is called?" I smiled at Race innocently,
"And
Terry can touch his tongue to his nose." This caused both Bannon and
Terry
to blush.

 Then Terry opened his big mouth, "You know Will was originally
assigned to
your file. She was supposed to be your bodyguard instead of Race. Ouch,
why
did you guys do that? That hurt!" Race had kicked him under the table
and I
had driven my knuckles into his thigh.

 I played innocent, "Oh, Terry don't be silly. I was never even
considered."

 Terry wouldn't shut up, "Yes, you were. The top brass had ordered the
assignment be given to you. Corven was jealous, so he bumped you for
Bannon.
He was afraid that you and Doctor Quest would end up playing house."

 This was followed by a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. "Terry
you
have been paying way to much attention to office gossip again," I
teased.

 Race spoke up, "Phil always said I was the only candidate ever
considered
for the assignment."

 "Ugh, you know your right. It was just an office rumor. Sort of like
the
one about you dumping that glass of ice down Race's pants," Terry said
swallowing hard.

 Bannon laughed, "That wasn't a rumor. She really did do that." At
which
point Race told the whole story behind the incident. I had been upset
over
Race and Estella's break up and had let him know my displeasure. The
night
passed quickly.

 We had moved from the table to sit around the living room area. I sat
on
the couch between Race and Benton. Doctor Lane had been correct about
the
arm; it was throbbing like a toothache. I downed one of the pain pills.
The
pill made me drowsy, my head dropped, my chin resting on my chest. An
arm
snaked around my shoulders pulling me close.

 I laid my head on the shoulder; a soft beard brushed my forehead
followed
by a kiss. I snuggled closer. Terry and Race both laughed. "Oh that's
so
sweet," Terry cooed. Both made kissing noises at us. I shot them an
obscene
and unladylike gesture.

 Both laughed but, Terry spoke, "And for a minute there I thought about
asking Doctor Quest what he had done with the REAL Will Harkness, but
after
that I have no doubts you are the REAL Will Harkness." I turned in
Benton's
embrace and kissed him.

 Jonny spoke up; "Will you two like get a room or something?"

 I strangled on my laughter, "Are you sure he's not Bannon's son?"

 Benton answered, "Sometimes I wonder the same thing myself."

 Terry said his good nights; I mumbled a sleepy reply. The kids were in
the
process of begging Race to let them stay up and watch some sort of
movie
marathon that they had found.

 Benton guided me to the bedroom; he rained soft kisses on my face. I
allowed him to lay me down on the bed, "Don't leave me," I whispered.

 "No, I won't leave you, I'll stay here and protect you," he whispered
back
as he lay down beside me.

Acknowledgments:
"WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE" performing artist Alice Cooper

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LOVER BOY"

 The following morning I was awakened by the tickle of a beard and a
pair of
lips nibbling on my neck. "Good morning Mrs. Quest, are you ready to go
home
today?" the voice vibrated against my throat.

 "Home?" I questioned.  It was a place I hadn't even thought about.

 "Of course, back to Maine," he continued to nibble at my throat. We
took
turns showering and dressed. When we went out, Race and the kids where
already packed and ready to go. I downed another pain pill, chasing it
with
a Coca-Cola®. Benton frowned, Jonny laughed, and I just shrugged my
shoulders.

 We arrived at the house in Maine late that afternoon. Benton insisted
on
carrying me over the threshold again. Mrs. Evans the housekeeper
cheered in
delight; apparently I was a surprise. Benton tried to carry me upstairs
to
the master bedroom. I insisted that I could walk, but if he insisted I
would
allow him to carry me into the room. Benton agreed to this compromise.
Once
upstairs he picked me up kicking the bedroom door shut behind us.

 Benton dropped me on the huge brass bed. The headboard and footboard
were
far too ornate and elaborate for a man to have chosen. I rolled off the
bed,
placing it between us. Benton was surprised when he returned from
locking
the door to find me at the window.

 I looked out across the wide expanse of yard, at the breath-taking
view of
the lighthouse, a small strip of beach and the Atlantic Ocean beyond,
seeing
none of it. The word, the accusation kept circling inside my brain,
'ADULTERESS'. I now knew how Benton had felt that first night. He had
been
confronted by the living embodiment of you and it had made him feel
guilty.

 I had had no qualms about it, but now . . . in your house . . . in
your
room . . . in your bed . . . Benton was standing behind me. He was
nuzzling
my neck searching for the spot he knew that would cause chills to race
through me and my knees to buckle. I wanted to scream at him, *How can
you
possibly think of being romantic here?* I settled on biting my lip
instead.

 Finally, Benton sensed that something was terribly wrong. When he
asked
what it was. I weakly fluttered my hand in the direction of the bed and
whispered, "I can't."

 "Why not?" just a tad of exasperation tinted his voice.

 "Not in yours and Rachel's marriage bed. It would be wrong . . . "

 A soft almost inaudible sigh, "It's not." I glanced up at him, seeking
further explanation.

 "The bed is my grandparents. It's the last thing my grandmother ever
bought
before she died." He had gone over and was sitting on it. As he smooth
out
the comforter he said, "Brass beds had come back in style. She just had
to
have one. She passed away shortly afterwards." Tears collected on his
ginger
lashes. "After my grandfather passed away; Rachel and I moved in here .
. .
I just couldn't think of sleeping in this bed. So, this bed got moved
to the
attic."

 I sat down beside him on the bed. Benton Quest needs more than a lover
and
I have every intention of being whatever he needs me to be. I took his
hand
in mine; such a surprisingly delicate hand, well shaped, long fingers,
never
meant for any rough work. "Then when Rachel . . ." a few quiet sobs,
"anyway
that bed is in the attic now." My poor sensitive soul Benton never
again
will I let anything hurt him. I'll be his shield, his rock.

 I slid off of the bed to kneel in front of him. I didn't try to hide
my
tears as I looked up at him. He reached out and touched one, "Not the
tough,
hard nosed, Intelligence-One agent I expected," a soft chuckle.

 "No, I guess when it comes to you I'm not," I reached up and brushed
his
tears away. I stood up and cradled his head against me. I vowed
silently
that I would keep whatever darkness, shadows, or harm that threatened
him at
bay with whatever I possessed.

 We met for the first time that night. I know why Benton loves you so.
You
are beautiful. Your eyes look down with love and warmth, your smile is
like
a ray of sunshine. No wonder Benton can't forget you. You are
magnificent.

 Ben once asked me if it bothered me having your portrait hanging over
the
fireplace. I answered honestly, "No, it would bother me more if you
took it
down. I know it would bother Jonny." I consider you to be the guardian
angel
of this household. It's been an interesting ten months.

 Thanks to Race, my wardrobe has improved; I now have two evening
gowns. Men
's clothing I know however, when it comes to women's fashion I am, like
Race
said, 'clueless'. Bannon has taken it upon himself to become my
modiste. My
hand to hand combat skills are even better than what they were when I
was a
Ranger, now that I have Race to spar with daily.

 I was shocked to learn that Benton fenced. I'm glad he does; my
fencing
skills were getting rusty. I haven't used them much in the last
eighteen
years. During our first couple of matches it was easy to defeat him.
Now I
find myself having to work harder each time we duel. Occasionally we'll
just
fence for the fun of it. Of course, if you knew what our bets were on
the
outcome of those matches you would know that sometimes I don't try to
win at
all.

 Jessie and I usually end up teamed together against Jonny and Hadji in
computer games. In those match-ups I take the role of the levelheaded
strategist. This is different and often difficult for me. Jonny and I
are
more alike than Jonny cares to admit. Like Jonny, I'm the slash, burn,
and
mayhem type. Of course maybe it's those long hours of meditation that
I've
been putting in with Hadji that are helping me learn control.

 Hadji has been more accepting than Jonny of my presence in the
household.
Jonny and I still have minor scrimmages. There are times when I
honestly
believe that Jonny will never truly accept, or acknowledge the fact
that I'm
married to his father. At times I'm not really sure what I've gotten
myself
into . . . and Jonny is making every effort to make that clear. This
greatly
causes distress for Hadji, and is very disruptive to his peace and
harmony.
He's torn between his love for his brother and the desire to accept me
as
part of the family.

 I'll never forget the stunned look on the faces of the kids the first
time
Benton and I danced to an Aerosmith tune in front of them. Race
threatened
to throw water on us if we didn't cool it; he didn't want his daughter
exposed to that type of dancing. Benton gave me a nickname because of
this,
"Rag Doll".

 It embarrasses Jonny to no end when I call Benton "Lover Boy". Ben
swears
that the only reason I call him that is to see Jonny blush. That is
only
half of the reason, the other half is when Benton looks at me with
those big
periwinkle eyes and starts to sing the first stanza of Queen's "Good
Old-fashioned Lover Boy" I can't deny him anything.

 Do you remember how it goes? "I can dim the lights and sing you songs
full
of sad things, We can do the tango just for two, I can serenade and
gently
play on your heart strings, Be your Valentino just for you." He looks
so
sweet and charming how can I say no? Hadji caught us in a very
compromising
position one day on the couch because of this.

 I'm still an active Intelligence-One agent and I don't know when or
where
my assignments will take me. At the request (that is if you want to
call it
a request) of I-1 our marriage is still a secret from the rest of the
world.
Just like Race's role is explained as being Benton's head of security
for
Quest Enterprises and Ben's right hand man my presence in the Quest
household is explained as an electronics expert helping the Doctor with
his
work and also assisting Bannon in developing security equipment for
Quest
Enterprises. Not to mention the fact that Race and I are both capable
of
tutoring the kids.

 Mrs. Evans is still our housekeeper. With our kind of lifestyle it's
hard
to maintain the house properly. As for cooking, well I'm a Southerner;
everything I cook is fried, battered and fried, or seasoned with meat
or
grease. Bannon accuses my cooking of being a heart attack waiting to
happen.
I haven't heard him complain about the homemade biscuits, though.
Benton
doesn't understand some of my cooking terms or items I cook such as fat
back
and collards. The kids usually eat pizza on the nights I cook.

 We've had some interesting times, such as a discussion that turned
into a
heated discussion, which dissolved into a food fight. There have been
some
hard times, a few broken vases, and one incident that led to someone
being
pushed into the pool during the dead of winter. The pusher advised the
pushee to "CHILL". But this is how families should be.

 All I can do is promise you two things, Rachel. To give your . . . no
. . .
OUR Jonny and OUR Benton my unconditional love and to protect them from
harm
or die trying. To be quite honest, I didn't really understand that in
the
beginning and I was a little afraid to, but now I think I understand a
little. I guess women do form some sort of bond with the onset of
motherhood.

 The doctor confirmed my suspicions today. I was told when I was
younger
that the chances of me getting pregnant were slim to none, the doctor
gave
me the odds of 1 out of 10,000. I've never used any form of birth
control. I
never had a reason to need it. Ben and I have never even talked about
children. Then again, we've never talked about birth control either.

 No. I haven't told him yet. I just feel so . . . scared. It's silly
isn't
it? What am I scared of? That's why I came here to talk to you . . .
Thank
you . . . Thank you for the talk that is. Even though I know you can't
answer back, talking to you about this has made me feel better. Braver
. . .

 The baby is a girl; don't ask me how I know this---I just do. I'd like
to
name her Rachel . . . that is if it's all right with you? There I go
again
expecting you to answer. I hope I haven't shocked, upset, or bored you
with
my story.

 The sun is coming up now; I'd better go. I've really enjoyed our
little
talk. Maybe we can do this again some other time. Thank you again for
letting me ramble on so. Good night Rachel, or should I say good
morning?

Acknowledgments:
"GOOD OLD-FASHION LOVER BOY" performing artist Queen