Ghost Hunters, Pt. 18

(Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.)

JD checked his camera again, nervously making sure he knew where the controls were located. He checked the lens for dust as carefully as he could. He clicked the flashlight on and off and watched the red beam blink on the wall. Stuffing it in his pocket, he grabbed his hoodie sweatshirt from the back of his chair and headed for the doorway.

"Dude, where y'goin'?"

"Outside. Didn't we just talk about this?"

"I said it bites, dude. I didn' say nothin' 'bout goin' out there."

"Is it time now, JD?" Wendy was still shaken from the last few moments, and her eyes were wide in her ashen face.

"You don't have to do this, Wen," JD said softly, his eyes sympathetic. "It's no problem. Really."

"No," she said resolutely, shaking her head slightly. "I'm okay. I want to go with you, babe."

"Not me."

"All right, Dillon," JD replied, smiling. "Just stay here and monitor all the activity that goes on while we're outside."

"What ... what activity?" Dillon stammered.

"While we're outside watching events unfold there, the replay is likely going to continue in here. You'll see things and hear things. I'll need you to record them and document carefully what goes on."

"Like ... like what? Like what, dude?"

"Oh, you know -- people moving, sounds in the house, the appearance of whoever that was that disappeared into the wall ... that sort of thing."

"You ... you mean ghosts, dude? You talkin' 'bout ghosts?"

"Well, I don't like that term, but that's what you've been calling them, yes."

"Are you frickin' serious, dude? You so are not serious, dude."

JD raised his eyebrows to emphasize his answer. "Oh, but I am. The replay isn't geographically isolated. It's not just going to be outside. ALL the events -- in AND around the house -- are recorded."

"Aw, man," Dillon said, rolling his head in resignation. "Okay, okay ... I'll go with ya. DANG."

JD shrugged. "Suit yourself. We need to go now, though. I want to be ready to capture the whole thing, from the beginning."

"Why's that important, JD?"

"Because if there's any key information or event we didn't see last time, it could help us understand ... something."

Wendy chuckled in spite of her nerves. "Something?"

JD shrugged and smiled. "Well ... I can't know all the angles. I just think I should be prepared. I don't know what kind of new information the replay may provide if we see more of it. Besides, we've seen more in the house than we did last night; maybe we'll see more outside, too. It could help us unravel this ... mystery."

"Dude ... I can not believe you want MORE ghosts than last time. That so doesn't make sense t'me, dude."

"I know. It's okay. I just ... need to know. I need to understand what's going on here."

"Ghosts, dildo, THAT's what's goin' on!"

JD sighed. "Whatever. Until we have more information, this is what's required. We keep compiling evidence and information."

"Ugh. That is SO lame, dork-wad. SO lame."

JD shrugged again. "Yeah, whatever. Let's go."

Wendy exhaled through her lips making them flap as she took her own light hooded jacket from the seat of another chair. Dillon snatched his from the back of his own chair as he muttered his way out of the room.

JD waited for them to collect in the foyer.

"Last chance," he looked at them. "Are you both sure you want to do this?"

"No, dude, I don'."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"I ain' stayin' here alone, butt-head. I'm goin' 'cause bein' in here's creepier."

"No one's forcing you to do this, Shaggy."

"Dude. Hostile."

JD shook his head, grinning. "So we're all in? It's probably going to be more intense than last night."

"Can we just go outside now, Coach?" Wendy said, folding her arms across her chest. "The night's not getting any younger. It's not like we're going voluntarily into battle in Iraq. We're just going outside. Sheesh."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You're a lousy motivational speaker, love. Just go, 'kay?"

"Yeah. Got it."

JD opened the door and the clear, crisp air of the night greeted them. It was quiet, and the trees loomed darkly and ominously over the yard, their denuded limbs menacing them as they stepped onto the creaking porch. The leaves skittered in hushed whispers like furtive voices in a church as they rattled under the gentle, calm breeze. The lone street lamp was drowning mournfully in a black sea, its feeble puddle of amber dying on the sidewalk beneath it some hundred yards away.

He stepped off the last groaning step as though he descended into unknown terrain. Before him the walkway rolled straight to the short, arching garden gate, its pickets stabbing upward like mock skeletal ribs knifing the air where the dense, hoarding shrubs parted briefly to the outside world. The lawn spread out from either side, vanishing into the night out of their vision like English moors. And the night was like a blanket over it all, smothering every sound and stilling the world around them.

"Wow, it's quiet," Wendy whispered.

"It's an affluent neighborhood," JD said softly. "The people are paying for that very quiet. The subdivision still abuts the forest preserve, even after all these decades ... or more. They don't seem the rowdy, noisy type of people."

"Dude, what now, man? We're standing 'round doin' a whole lotta nothin' again."

"We wait, Dillon," JD said patiently. "More waiting."

"I figgered. It's like that with you."

"It's like that with every investigation."

"Not those guys on TV."

"Those two plumbers?"

"Yeah. They don' sit 'round doin' nothin'. They do stuff. You don' do jack, dude."

"They're also edited for television. They'd have a really small viewership if all you saw was the immense amount of observation and waiting they have to do."

"Still ... we oughtta be doin' somethin'. I think."

"No you don't," JD muttered.

"Guys, put a lid on it ... jeez, you're like an old married couple."

"I get t'be the man," Dillon followed quickly.

"Do let us know when you get to be a man, Dill."

"Dude. Hostile."

"Yes."

"Aw, man ... you're gittin' colder while yer gittin' older."

"Okay, just listen. We might have a few minutes. Whatever you do, remember the fog is going to be very, very thick ... I think. So stay close together and try not to get separated. Dillon, I'd suggest you watch for trees, but apparently it didn't help last time so it probably won't help this time."

"Ah, ha ha ha," Dillon said flatly. "Dude, you're so funny. Why ain'tcha on Comedy Central an' shit?"

"Just stay as close to me as you can, okay, Wen?" JD was softer as he stared at her flashing, dancing eyes.

"As close as I can?" Wendy cooed, snuggling closely to his chest. "I don't know, baby ... I can get a lot closer than this."

JD blushed, smiling.

"Uh, dudes? Keep the porn t'yourselves an' crap, 'kay? I don' wanna know, y'dig?"

"Okay, I'm sure it's nearly time," JD said, glancing at his watch. "Get ready."

"Ready for what?" Dillon said.

"For the replay, Dillon. You know, the reason we're standing out here? The whole 'ghost' thing?"

"So you're sayin' it's a ghost now?"

"I'm not doing this with you right now."

"I'm just askin'."

"Pay attention instead."

"Ladies, please, please," Wendy said, putting a hand on each one's chest. "Save it for the mud wrestling ring. Are you both ready?"

"I ain't. Even if I was, I dunno what I'm supposa do, dude."

"Just watch as carefully as you can," JD said seriously. "Three sets of eyes are better than one. And I'll be looking through the display of the video camera for the most part, so I'll have to count on you guys to guide me through the fog."

"Yeah, I'm all over that shit."

"I'll help you babe."

"Okay -- Dillon, take this voice recorder. Whenever there's anything spoken, record it. Here's the record button, at the top. Press once to record, again to stop."

"Gotcha. Press an' press."

"Wen, you're my navigator," he said, grinning and kissing her forehead. "Is that okay?"

"More than," she said, and pecked his lips playfully. "I'll take my payment later."

"Dudes, please!" Dillon pleaded. "I can't take the mushy crap!"

"Want me to take you home, Dilly? Then I can get all freaky on my man and you don't have to hear it."

"Well, if you're goin' freaky, I wanna tape it. Internet's all about that shit, dude."

"Oh, so it's okay if you get to watch, but not if you just have to hear?"

"Naw, naw ... I want the sounds an' shit too. But only when there's, like, people gettin' all nekkid an' horny an' shit. If the clothes're stayin' on, then that's bunk, dude. Get nekkid and I'ma be all about payin' attention an' documentin' and shit."

"OH, so you just want the hardcore stuff, huh?"

"You got it, babe. Th' other crap I can see in a PG movie, y'know?"

"So you're okay with hardcore, but not the romance? Boy, you must be fun on a date, Dilly."

"I'm a blast on a date, dude."

"Hmm."

"Seriously ... okay, you get nekkid right here an' I'll show ya how fun I am."

"No time for that," JD interjected suddenly. "Here comes the fog."

Technorati Tags: fiction

Ready to go on to Part 19?

Halloween is Coming ...

... so, are you in the mood for a nice, creepy story?

Check out Oasis by Bryce Beattie. He's a good aspiring wannabe writer, like so many of us, and he's got an ongoing series that's absolutely perfect for the season.

Here's a short synopsis:

Corbin St. Laurent, a nurse in the isolated desert town of Oasis, has uncovered something sinister going on. It seems the government may be involved, and the whole town is caught up in it. But will he be able to stay alive long enough to unravel it?

The story's got a lot of action and some snappy dialog. I certainly enjoyed it, and I think you will too! Go check out Bryce Beattie's Oasis -- and let him know you came by! He enjoys hearing from his readers!

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: reviews, writing

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 17

(Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.)

They shrieked, recoiling like a snake struck at them as the screeching scrape of the window opening raked through the room. In an instant JD regained his composure enough to dart forward, snatching the video recorder from the table and moving quickly -- but not too closely -- to the end of the table nearest the rising sash.

"OHMYGODJDLOOKATTHISSHITDUDE!" Dillon was rattling in full abject terror, his chair already pressed back against the wall.

Wendy was cowering next to him, her hands clutched over her mouth to stifle the scream. JD flicked the camera on, his heart pounding in his chest and shaking his hands so badly he had to breathe through his mouth to slow his body. The sash rose about halfway up its runners and then stopped. JD managed to get the lens cover off the camera and pressed the recording button.

The camera failed to go on. He scrambled to check it.

A shadowy shifting, morphing from out of the blackness of the open window, formed beneath the sash.

JD was frantic, trying to steady his hand as he pressed the record button again.

There was an electronic beep, and a red LED flicked on at the rear of the camera beside the view finder.

JD raised the camera quickly to his eye -- too quickly, and there was a hollow "thunk" as it knocked against his forehead. He cursed under his breath and tried to steady the camera, but the room was too dark for him to get the camera in focus.

"Shit!" he swore softly, trying to adjust the camera to the dark environment.

The morphing shadow seemed to pour itself through the open window, right through the taut metal screen outside, and started to stand, rising in front of them.

"HOLYCRAPJDWHADDAWEDOMANWHATTAWEDO??"

"Shh!" JD spat, his eyes flitting with furtive glances from the window to the recorder as he tried to get the camera settings to cooperate.

"Oh my God ... JD ..." Wendy was near tears as they watched.

"Shh!" JD repeated, sweat rolling down his face as he tried again to slow his breathing.

The shadow began to form from the black mist.

JD opened the tiny LCD viewer, and the sudden burst of bright gray light temporarily blinded him.

"DUUUUUUUUUUDE ..." Dillon whispered, his voice quavering.

"Be quiet, dammit," JD hissed through his teeth, snapping the viewer closed again. "C'mon, you stupid piece of ..."

The camera finally started to show the room; he'd found the setting.

A man's shadow knelt at the window, and pulled the sash closed again, faster this time, the screeching less pronounced on the path back down. JD pointed the camera and was hunched over, in a position to spring if necessary, shuffling sideways to get the black silhouette into the center of the shot.

When the window closed all the way down, the shadow shifted as if the figure crouched on the floor were turning toward JD.

He froze, breath catching in his throat.

The shadow remained motionless, then the head cocked first one way, then the other.

As if it were listening into the dark room.

JD held perfectly still except for his trembling hands, and tried to steady the camera to no avail.

Wendy and Dillon were stock still, frozen in terror.

The seconds ticked by ... soon it was a minute. The crouching shape was still except for the head, which swiveled from one side to the other. Two minutes passed. Finally, slowly, the figure stood up between the window bays and held again, the head again cocking to listen.

JD watched wide-eyed, trying to keep perfectly still and silent. The figure moved then, across the room, deliberately, and JD again side-stepped to follow, watching carefully through the view finder and moving along behind the tables. He nearly fell when he stepped on the stock-still and cowering Dillon, who yelped in surprise. JD jumped, nearly dropped the camera, and caught himself on the table's edge.

"Damn! MOVE, Dillon!" he whispered harshly, and Dillon obediently scooted to let him pass. Wendy followed suit, getting out of his way quickly and quietly as he followed the figure toward the end of the row of windows and toward the corner where he'd aimed the wireless camera earlier.

The figure moved toward the corner, stopped for an instant, the faceless, featureless head again moving back and forth in the darkness, and then the figure pulled open a door that wasn't there.

JD gasped, and Wendy clutched his arm and pressed her body to his.

"DUUUUUUUDE ..." Dillon repeated, and the figure vanished into the darkness of the poorly lit corner.

They were silent for a moment, staring in disbelief.

JD finally cleared his throat. "I ... I think I got it."

"Oh, JD," Wendy said, a shiver wracking her body violently. She shut her eyes and pressed her face into his arm. "Oh my God ... That was ... that was creepy ..."

"It's okay," JD said, putting his arm over her shoulder, but he was trembling too. "It was sort of frightening. It's over now."

"Dude," Dillon choked out, "what was that, man? A door? Was that, like, a friggin' door, dude? 'Cause there ain't no door there, man. There is so no door there, JD."

"I know," JD said, nodding. "I ... I know."

"Dude, what's goin' on, man? What's that all about, dude?"

"I don't know, Dill," JD said, shaking his head slowly, still staring into the corner. "I really don't ... don't know."

"You recorded it, JD? You got the whole thing on the recorder, right?"

JD nodded, stroking Wendy's arm with his still draped over her. "Yes. I got it."

"Dude, that was ... that was freaky, man," Dillon's voice was still wavering. "I ain't never seen nuthin' like that before, dude."

"I haven't either," JD agreed.

"JD, what now? What do we do now? I'm still shaking."

"It's okay, Wen," JD soothed softly, "it's the same thing you saw last night, except we got it in full detail this time."

She shivered again, and he held her more fully, putting both arms around her.

"Dude, I could use a hug too, man."

"You're on your own."

"Dude. Hold me."

"You're on your own," JD reiterated. "Right now, we've got to get ready. We have a few minutes -- ten, maybe? -- before the replay outside begins. I want to be certain that we get that on video too, and I don't have a wireless camera I can use out there."

"Should we take the one up there?" Wendy pointed to the camera mounted in the corner.

"No, I don't have time to move all the recording equipment. We'll take this one and the flashlights. That should be enough. I hope."

"Dude, I need a hug, man."

JD scowled at Dillon, but Wendy moved and embraced him, kissing him on the cheek. "It's okay, Dilly. It's over now."

"It's so not over, Wen," he shook his head, voice tremoring slightly. "The crap we're gonna see outside's gonna make this look like a kiddie ride at Disney World, dude. We are so gonna get the crap scared out of us."

She nodded and laid her head on him. "It's going to be okay, though."

"Remember," JD spoke as calmly as he could, "the stuff we're seeing happened already. This is not something we're seeing unfold now. It's old stuff already."

"Dude," Dillon shivered violently and hugged Wendy's arm tighter, "I don' EVEN care 'bout that crap. This shit's all kindsa creepy, dude. It's, like, Stephen KING creepy."

"I know it's frightening if we don't remember what's happening," JD restated, "and if you want to go home, Dill, you can take my car and go. Or, Wen, you can drive him if you're too scared, too. This looks to be a bit more intense than it was last night."

"No way," Wendy said, shaking her head emphatically. "No way. I'm in for the whole thing. I'm staying with you, babe."

"Dude, I am so not driving back through this creepy-ass place alone," Dillon said. "I'm stayin'. I guess."

JD shrugged. "Okay, then. It's time for us to get ready for whatever comes next."

"Outside we go, I guess."

JD nodded.

"Dang, man. That part kinda bites."

Technorati Tags: fiction

Ready to go on to Part 18?

Narrowing the Field ...

Well, I've shut down one of my blog sites.

Actually, it wasn't exclusively a blog site, but I wasn't going to do any social networking there, and as far as I could tell, it had a LONG way to go to catch up to MySpace or FaceBook.

Nevertheless, even though it wasn't my favorite site, I'm hesitant to delete it completely. So, I guess I'll leave the space in my control and have it available to check on in case it becomes more interesting later.

And despite that it's boring, I was having a hard time doing it. I don't know why, but surrendering web spaces is really, really hard for me. Something inside tells me that if I have more web sites, I'll get more visitors, and maybe then something good will happen to me with regard to my writing. And while I know that's patently untrue, I still wonder about doing things like that.

Still, it's nice to know I have one less blog to update. Since all four of them are exactly the same, it shouldn't be so emotionally stretching for me to do that. Each of my blogs has exactly the same content, and my Wikis all have the same content too, so what difference does it make? I think I was getting about 2 hits a day on it anyway.

Good riddance, I say. Now, if I can bring myself to do something with my LiveJournal space -- of which I'm not overly fond either -- I can actually start thinking about breaking things up a bit and focusing the topics and subjects.

Now that I pause to think about it, I can have the fiction stuff be all in one location -- well, one location and the Wikis, of course -- and let one blog be nothing but my journal. And the third? Hmm ... well, I seemed to get a lot of hits when I did a football blog. Maybe I can do that. My wife said my little piece read like a sports article by a real sports writer, but ... she's my wife.

Anyway, it's done, and for some reason, I feel as though I've dropped a little weight. That's patently untrue also, but it makes me feel better.

Technorati Tags: blogging, random thoughts

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 16

Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.


"Dude, I'm tellin' ya ... NO one can beat 'im. He's, like, the greatest of all time."

"No, he's already been beaten ... and more than once."

Dillon threw his head back. "That's a load o' crap, dude."

"It is not, check for yourself."

"Where?"

"Online would be fine. I'd guess that even Wikipedia has something on it."

"It just seems so ... impossible," Wendy said, shaking her head slightly in disbelief.

"No one is completely unbeatable," JD said, shrugging.

"Dude, he's Superman. Who can beat 'im? He's all ... SUPER an' stuff."

"Yeah, who beat him?"

"About 15 years ago, a villain created specifically for the purpose called Doomsday beat him. Well, sort of. And in the epic 'Kingdom Come', Captain Marvel beat him as well."

"Captain who?" Dillon said, screwing his face up with doubt.

"Captain Marvel. You know ... Shazam."

"That wuss beat SUPERMAN?? Come ON, dude, you're yankin' us."

JD held his hands up as a profession of innocence. "I'm serious. Shazam almost killed Superman by calling lightning down on him repeatedly."

"But lightning can't hurt Supes, dude!"

"You'd have thought he was more durable than that, yes, but if Captain Marvel hadn't stopped, Superman was toast."

"That's really too bad," Wendy said. "What a pathetic story line. He's Superman, for Pete's sake. Why would lightning hurt him? I thought only Kryptonite could hurt him."

"Well, apparently, they've made some adjustments to that over the many years of his existence."

"Aw, dude, that's bunk," Dillon said. "That's ... that's crap, man."

"I don't write them, I just report them."

"Next thing you know, Batman'll hafta go t'the cops for help an' shit."

"I don't think it's that bad yet."

JD knew the time would pass more quickly than they expected it to. He didn't realize exactly how quickly, though.

JD thought about the investigation only briefly. He'd promised himself he wouldn't, to help the time pass. He felt ready; he couldn't think of anything else to do. There were no more preparations to make; there were no more cables to check, no more tapes to insert ... nothing more could be done. He was as ready as he could be, and even though he wanted to watch the second hand on his watch tick away the moments, he knew it would only make the waiting worse.

He forced himself into the conversation repeatedly. He knew that letting time get control of him wouldn't really help. It wasn't like there was an exact moment when the mechanism would trigger the ethereal playback, and even if there were, he didn't know when it was. All he had was an approximation. So he made himself look anywhere, everywhere, but the face of his watch.

The room was darkened now. They'd turned the lights off after they finished eating, and the three of them sat side by side behind the monitors glowing softly and gray, casting eerie light over their faces and shapes in the parlor. The temperature cooled with the heating system waiting quietly to be turned back on, but it was nowhere near as bitingly cold as the previous night. They were in sweatshirts and hoodies, and no one really noticed the coolness in the ancient house.

Dillon was contemplating the conversation, and Wendy sipped delicately on the remnants of her soda, shaking the cup to rattle the ice lightly. JD stared into the middle distance.

"Well," Wendy sighed, "I'm going out to my car and get my other clothes. I don't want to spend any time running around in my work clothes."

"I'll go with you," JD said, locking his eyes on her and smiling.

"Dudes, I am SO not stayin' in here alone."

"We'll only be gone a minute," JD said flatly. "You watch the monitors. Make sure you record anything that happens."

"Happens??" Dillon said. "Like what? DUDE, I'm so not stayin' in here alone!"

"Nothing's going to happen," JD spat, mildly irked. "It's only for a minute. Sheesh, quit being such a coward."

"Dude, I toldja last night -- that ghost's so comin' for me next. If anything's gonna happen, it's gonna happen t'me, and I ain't into it."

"Nothing is going to happen I said."

"You said that last night too, dildo! Look what happened! Spooks, dead cop spooks, I fell in a bush ... all sortsa crap happened!"

"Dillon, it's not time yet. Just stay here."

Wendy was heading out into the hallway. "Let me know when you decide who's coming with me if anyone," she said over her shoulder.

"I'm coming!" JD said and he started for the door. He stopped dead in his tracks when Dillon clutched his arm suddenly.

"Don't leave me here alone!" he said mournfully.

"Dillon, for God's sake," JD said, "just relax. I'll be right back."

"Lemme go too!"

"No! I want to be alone with Wendy for a few seconds."

"Is that all you need? Sheesh, dude."

"Oh for ... just watch the screens, will you? I'll be right back."

"JD, c'mon, man! I'm ... I'm scared."

"Really? Who'd have guessed?"

"Seriously, dickhead! I don' wanna be in here with a ghost alone!"

"You're not going to be alone for more than thirty seconds, Dillon! Grow up! And there aren't any ghosts!"

"Are too, and 'is ass is comin' for me, dude! You want that on your head, man??"

"I can live with the risk, yes."

"You're an ass, dude."

"And you're a baby. Now will you just let go so I can ..."

"I'm back," Wendy said, carrying a bundle of clothes beneath her arm. "And look, love -- I'm still whole. Isn't that amazing? I can go out to the car all by my widdew ow' sewf." She winked and grinned at him broadly.

"Sorry," JD said, his facing sinking. "I tried to go with you. Someone's a bit nervous."

Wendy caught Dillon clinging desperately to JD's arm. "Aw, are you scared, Dilly?"

His face drooped into a puppy dog frown and he nodded sadly. "An' JD's a dick an' stuff."

Wendy giggled and snaked an arm around Dillon's shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. "It's going to be fine, Dilly," she cooed. "Big JD is here to take care of us. He always knows what to do."

"Naw, he's tryin'a get me killed an' stuff, leavin' me here with a ghost cop an' shit."

"For crying out ... Dillon, I'm going to say this one more time. There. Are. No. Ghosts. Do you understand?" He spoke the last part of the sentence as though he were a recording slowed down and warbling.

Dillon did a fair imitation of him. "I don't believe you," he slurred back, "'cause you're fulla shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit."

Wendy roared with laughter. "You guys kill me. Where can I change, good lookin'?"

"Right here," Dillon said quickly.

"There's a room at the top of the stairs to the right," JD corrected quickly and glowered at Dillon, who shrugged an I-can-try-can't-I shrug.

"Now, I just want to warn you both," Wendy spoke with the cautionary tone of a baby sitter, "I'm going to go back out to my car with my work clothes when I'm finished changing. Okay?"

"And I'll accompany you," JD said, glaring at Dillon.

"And me too," Dillon said, a helpless expression on his face.

"Nnn-oooo," Wendy said, still using her parental voice, "I'm a big girl, all grown up and everything. I'm going all by myself, and you'll be okay with that, all right?"

JD sighed heavily. Dillon shrugged again. "Long as I'm not by myself up in here, I'm good."

She blew a kiss at JD and darted up the stairs.

"You baby. You must want me to kill you."

"Dude, I ain't stayin' alone in here. Toldja. Can'tcha make out with 'er at home when we ain't doin' this kinda crap? C'mon, man, please?"

"How can you possibly be so annoying? Is it a gift or do you practice?"

"Little from column A, little from column B."

JD shook his head. "Remember when I said I was glad we were friends? I'm re-thinking that."

"Dude. Hostile."

"Yes."

"And nobody can beat Superman, dude."

"Yes they can."

"I don' believe you, dude. You're wrong 'bout these ghosts an' you're wrong 'bout that too."

"I can prove the Superman thing. I have copies of the initial fight with Doomsday, and I have a copy of 'Kingdom Come,' too."

"Dude, I so ain't gonna read 'em."

"You don't have to. They have pretty pictures you can look at instead. It's more your mental speed, just a notch below 'See Jane Run'."

"Hostile, dude."

"Yes."

"Doin' it on purpose?"

"YES."

"You're tryin'a hurt my feelin's, ain'tcha?"

"Will that make you be less ... you?"

"Do you really wanna hurt me, dude? Just like Boy George said?"

"Um ... kind of, yes."

"Why'd they call him BOY George? Dude was practically a chick."

"What makes you think I care?"

"Dude! Hostile!"

JD sighed as Wendy bounded down the stairs. "Okay, kiddies," she sing-songed, "I'm going out, all by my little lonesome, to put my work stuff in the car."

JD appraised her in her jeans, a sweater that clung to her form without being tight, and her sneakers that had pink trim and laces. He couldn't help smiling.

"Hurry back," he whispered softly.

"I will," she said, tipping her head and biting on her lower lip happily as she raced for the door.

"Dude, you can amp down on that crap now. You told 'er ya love 'er an' all."

JD scowled at Dillon. "Amp down? What are you talking about?"

"You're all up in 'er grill now."

"I am not!"

"Are too. You're all mushy an' shit."

"Oh, stop it. You're mushy ... between the ears."

"You're all PW'd, dude."

"I'm what?"

Dillon rolled his eyes. "Puh-LEEZE, dude. PW'd. You're pussy-whipped, dude."

"I beg your pardon!" JD said, his face flushing instantly. "My level of intimacy with Wendy is none of your business!"

"I ain't sayin' you been screwin' her, dude, I'm sayin' you're all ... dorky an' shit now. Now thatcha 'L' worded her back, you're all sappy an' goofy an' shit. Pussy-whipped, man. She's gotcha all macked up."

"She's got me all ... you're being ridiculous. Besides, who're you, Dear Abby?"

"Who?"

The door opened and closed again, and Wendy appeared at the parlor entrance half a beat later. "Fast enough, baby?"

JD smiled and nodded. "So long as Dillon approves."

"Uh ... did I miss something again?"

"JD's all PW'd over ya, Wen."

"Dillon!"

"Aw, are you feeling all sappy and ooey-gooey inside for me, lover?" Wendy said, and pressed herself to JD's chest, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Well, you don't need to worry, baby. I'm not a ball-breaker. I like my men to be manly. I love you for who you are, not who I expect you to be. So you and Dilly can relax and be yourselves with me."

Dillon snorted. "HIS self is an ass, Wen."

She giggled. "I like his ass, Dilly."

"Just ate, Wen -- don' need the pictures, 'kay?" Dillon held his hands up to stop her from going any further.

They all jumped and Wendy yelped involuntarily when a shrieking screech tore through the room, and the window sash at the opposite corner of the room began to rise.

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