Rating: R

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

Disclaimer:  All characters relating to Jonny Quest are trademarks of
and copyrighted by Hanna-Barbera.

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. 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 character Wilhelmina "Will" Stoker Harkness. This is strictly the work
of someone's very vivid imagination and nothing more. No profits are being
made from this story.

Excerpt taken from the Journal of Roger T. Bannon

 Phil Corven had summoned me to his office as I stood in front of his
desk he slid a thick folder towards me. The folder was ominously labeled
0-37.

 "Have a seat, Bannon." Corven motioned to one of the chairs facing his
desk. "I want you to familiarize yourself with the file before a final
decision is made."

 I took the file noticing how heavy it was. "Sure, what is it?"

"A body guarding assignment for an eight year old boy." Phil leaned
back in his chair watching me.

 *Wait a minute,* screamed my gray cells, *isn't Harkness supposed to
be getting a 'bodyguard assignment from Hell'?* (That's what we call it
when we're assigned to kids.)

 Rumors were being whispered around Intelligence-One that the big guys
had picked Wilhelmina "Will" Harkness for an indefinite assignment
protecting the only child of some Einstein type. Will was not only expected to
risk life and limb for the little tyke but she would also be tutoring the
boy and playing daddy's lab assistant.

 A few of the other agents had even started calling her 'Nanny Igor'
behind her back. It was a good thing she never heard it, or she would have
cleaned their clocks.

 "So, why am I here, Phil? I'd heard that this had been dumped on
Will." I was tapping the folder on the edge of his desk.

 Phil shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure Harkness can handle this
case."

 I snorted, "Harkness? Not handle an assignment? Come on Phil, she's
one of the best and when it comes to kids you know how crazy she is over them.
Plus, the kids really like her too." As I said this I remembered how
much  Will had enjoyed playing with and babysitting my own daughter before my
divorce. Sometimes I believed that Will would never forgive me for
letting Estella leave with Jessie.

 "Look Corven, I'm not interested in playing babysitter and lab
flunkey. I don't have anything against children but if I'm going to raise a kid I
want it to at least be mine." I dropped the file back on his desk.

 "Besides, remember the French Ambassador's daughter? The kid screamed
bloody murder when her mother tried to take her away from Harkness." I
remembered Jessie's own squeal of delight over the sight of Will.
Thanks to Harkness I had had to memorize the fairy tale, "The Twelve Dancing
Princesses." It had become my daughter's favorite after Will told it to
her; apparently, it was also Will's favorite fairy tale.

 Corven sighed heavily, "Ok, Bannon, hypothetical situation . . . if
you were a grieving widower of three months with a small child; how long
would it take you to realize that Harkness is a female?"

 "Will's a woman? I've never noticed and I've been working with her for
years!" I cried in mock horror.

 Phil gave me a 'cut the crap' look. "I'm serious Bannon . . . what
would you do?"

 "Hell, I would immediately notice that she was a woman; then I'd give
junior a dose of Benadryl and as soon as the kid was cutting Zs I'd be
trying to get in the bodyguard's panties." I was leering at Corven the
whole time I was telling him this.

 Phil was trying hard not to smile but I could tell that he had had
similar thoughts. "Familiarize yourself with the file, Race." Corven signaled
my dismissal by turning his attention to an open file on his desk.

 Later that evening over a bowl of Campbell's chicken and stars soup
and a peanut butter sandwich I started reviewing file 0-37 or the Quest file.
I read over the incident that had left Doctor Quest a widower. The person
or persons responsible had never been caught.

 At the end of the file were photographs of the remaining members of
the Quest family. Will would think that the little boy, Jonny, was adorable
with his blonde hair and China doll blue eyes. The kid's cheeks were
slightly rounded with the last remains of baby fat. One thing was for sure, if
you looked up 'All-American Boy' in the dictionary it would probably have
Jonny Quest's picture as the definition.

 When I flipped over to the next photograph I was shocked. The man in
the picture didn't have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana
peel. This guy couldn't be the octogenarian, old fogy, research scientist
that everyone at I-1 was talking about. There had to be a mistake; someone
else's picture must have accidentally been put in the file . . . this guy was
young

I flipped the photo over on the back it was labeled Benton
Christopher-Robin Quest, Ph. D. I received another surprise . . . Doctor Quest was a
month younger than me. The rest of the information on the back of the picture
was the Doctor's physical statistics.

 I turned it back over to study Doctor Quest . . . now; I understood
why Phil had asked me that question. Benton Quest, Ph. D. might be a
grieving widower but he was still a man and he was young enough that he would
notice Will's charms at some point in time. Hell, I'd worked with Harkness for
years and I'd never really noticed them until recently.

 We had busted a terrorist organization and one of the members had
stabbed Will in the thigh. She still managed to knock him to the ground and
restrain him with the knife sticking out of her leg. When Harkness stood up she
had looked down at the knife as if just realizing it was there. Will pulled
it out and took two steps towards me before her eyes rolled back in her
head as she fainted.

 I found myself holding her in my arms. I had never really noticed
until then how curvaceous her five foot, one inch, one hundred seven pound
frame was and I was sure that it wouldn't take Doctor Quest very long to
figure it out either. For the rest of the evening I kept thinking about Phil's
question and imagining some very vivid and rather arousing scenarios of
what would happen if Harkness did get the job.

Yet, I really didn't want it either; like I had told Corven, I wasn't
interested in raising someone else's kid. However, I knew Harkness well
enough to know that it wouldn't take her long to get attached to the
boy. Would Doctor Quest use Jonny as leverage to gain access to Will's bed?
Someone else had tried before on another agent.

"DAMN!" I said when I woke up the following morning I had no other
choice; I would have to accept the job. I couldn't let Will take the case;
because I was afraid that at some point in time it would change from an
assignment into something personal, and when it did it would get Harkness killed.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:
We have never been told what Doctor Quest's middle name is, all we have
to go on is that his middle initial is "C".  Daria Brooks christened him
"Benton Christopher-Robin Quest" and I happen to agree with her that
"Christopher-Robin" is a very fitting middle name for him.