Date: Wed, 25 Aug 2004 23:24:23 -0700
From: RC in Sacramento <sacwriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: Munchkin, Chptr 10

	Joe's makeover created a lot of interest at dinner that night, when the
whole Cameron family gathered around the big oak table in the dining room.
The general consensus was one of approval, although his head was rubbed a
lot and he did take some good natured ribbing from Phil and his sons. Joe
found that he really liked all the attention for a change, although not as
much as the girls did. They were smugly pleased by each compliment his new
look received, as if they and not their Aunt had been responsible for the
way it had turned out.
	In a major change from last night, Joe was the only non-Cameron present for
dinner, which ended up suiting him just fine. He was still more than a
little embarrassed about his anxiety attack of the night before, and uneasy
from the personal nature of the conversations he had had with Jennie and
Mrs. Dowd. All the soul baring created an intimacy that he wasn't used to,
and he'd just as soon have a few more days before he had to face either one
of them again.
	He was also glad of the opportunity to see the Camerons closely for the
first time. He couldn't count last night, his observations had been too
warped to be relied on. At that point he hadn't felt like a guest so much as
a little puppy, eager to please and desperate to have everyone like him. But
now, with more space between him and the painful events of last week, he
felt as if he was meeting them for the first time.
Phil was the anchor, the obvious center of the family. Solid and strong, his
say-so was unquestioned, and yet the relationship with his kids was as open
as a close friendship. The boys laughed and joked and the girls teased him
mercilessly, and Phil took it all in with an easy sense humor. His authority
was based on love and respect, and it was as rock-solid as the man himself.
	The three Cameron brothers, 'the Boys', were as individual and unique as
any trio of people he had ever known. And yet they seemed to fit together
like pieces of a machine, forming one whole, perfectly functioning unit.
There was George, the ultimate big brother who looked after the others to
the point of prying, and who had found his own passion in old cars and the
art of making them whole. Bobby, the cool one with an air about him that
said he could do anything and be better at it than anybody else. And yet
with all that talent what he chose was to draw the designs for great
buildings, and see them rise up to the sky. And Johnny, by far the most laid
back guy he had ever met. A musician who could see beauty wherever he went,
and yet found his future in the cold and logical world of computers.
	And then there were the girls, but how could you even try put them into a
category? Dark haired and playful Gia, totally irrepressible, the source of
such an upbeat brand of energy. She was like an open book, nothing ever
hidden or held back. Even now she was dominating the conversation at the
table. In fact, Joe was alarmed to hear, she was telling the whole room all
about their day, including the afternoon at Milo's house!
But Joe's almost panic turned out to be for nothing, as Gia blithely skipped
over the gaming session and strip poker episode, without going into any of
the embarrassing details. Nothing was mentioned that might affect the smile
on Phil's craggy face, or for that matter Joe's physical safety. In fact it
sounded like they had all had a pleasant but boring day. Still, by the time
she had finished Joe could feel a trickle of sweat running down between his
shoulder blades.
	While this was going on Becka picked at her roast beef and scalloped
potatoes, and wore a carefully bland expression. The image was more polite
than the one she had worn at the poker game, but it didn't give away
anything more. She even smiled and nodded at all the right moments, although
Joe noticed that the smile wasn't quite the same by the time it reached her
eyes. He couldn't tell if she were enjoying Gia's passive deception, or just
patiently putting up with it.
Damn, but everything about Becka was such a contradiction! Like one of those
six sided portrait cubes, she had a half a dozen different faces, and each
one was as much a valid part of her character as the last.
Yesterday outside his house he had seen a feral joy light up her eyes, while
grinning at the prospect of a three to one fight. But an hour later she and
her family had opened their own home and their hearts and taken him in. He'd
seen her full of rage at school, striding through the hallways while wrapped
in an air of hair trigger violence. But then today she had been sitting half
naked at a card game, as cool and icy as a mountaintop in December. Again,
so much contradiction in one curvy blonde package.
	Becka Jackson was a mystery wrapped in a secret and then bound up in a
riddle. Which was probably another reason why she and Gia seemed to fit so
well together.

	At the end of the meal Phil again invoked cook's privilege and left the
cleanup to the kids. Gia responded by reminding the boys just who had fixed
the morning meal that day, which caused her brothers to point out that they
had all skipped breakfast. But Becka's telling reply was, what the hell did
that matter? Joe added his own voice to the girls', and after several
minutes of close quarters' combat the boys grumbled all the  way to the
kitchen. The three grinning victors quickly scurried off to the family room,
and the movies that the girls had rented for the weekend.
	Before settling down for the evening, Joe asked if he could borrow the
phone to call his Aunt. Becka directed him down the hall to Phil's study, so
that he could have a little privacy. He found the phone on the desk,
hesitated, but decided against sitting in Phil's chair. Instead he stood by
the desk and turned the phone around as he dialed.
	"Yeah, hello."
	"Hi, Mattie, it's me."
	"Joe! Hey, Slick, how's it going? Are you enjoying your first week of
freedom from the crazy old broad?"
	"Ohh, you're not that old. And only a little bit crazy."
	"Smartass."
	"Hey, I learned from the best."
	"And you have learned well, Grasshopper. So how are the Camerons treating
you? Are you behaving yourself?"
	"Just fine, and yes, I am. We went to the mall today and I got some new
glasses and a haircut, and then the girls and I spent the day gaming at
Milo's. It was great, neither of them had ever played D&D before, so-"
	"Yo, wait a minute, sport! Did you just say you got a new pair of glasses
at the mall? Joe, you know we can't afford those prices. If you needed new
glasses, you could've waited until I got back, and we would've gone to the
airbase."
	Joe winced. He had hoped he could have slipped that one by his Aunt, but it
wasn't going to happen.
	"It's okay, Mattie, it didn't cost a thing. Becka accidentally broke my
glasses, so she insisted on buying me a new pair."
	"Oh. Well, I guess that's only fair, if she's the one who broke them. But
you still should've told her that we get to shop at the Base Exchange, we
could've gotten you some new ones for about half what they charge at the
civy stores."
	Joe shuddered, thinking about the pitiful selection of frames they had at
the BX. "Mattie, you're going to be gone for another whole week! I couldn't
wait that long, I've got school on Tuesday, remember? Besides, Becka can
afford it, she's got a job working in her Dad's detail shop. And she's the
one who insisted we do it today, not me." And his new glasses looked so much
better than the old ones ...
	It took a little bit more, but Mattie's always touchy pride was finally
assuaged. After reminding him that he still had chores to do at home and
extracting a promise that he would call her again tomorrow night, she
finally let him go. Joe let out a sigh of relief and was about to hang up
the phone, when he hesitated, then went to the door and closed it. He picked
the phone back up and dialed Milo's number. And as he had anticipated, the
other boy had a lot to say to him.

	"Ahh, man, that was like the widest thing that ever happened to me! Ain't
nobody ever gonna believe what went down today."
	An alarm began to vibrate in the back of Joe's brain. "Hey, Milo, don't
even think about that! Believe me, you do not want to go blabbing about this
around school."
	But Milo was chuckling on the other end of the line. "Dude, chill. None of
us is suicidal, we don't want either of those two getting' a mad on at us.
We'll keep our mouths shut."
	Joe loosened up a little. Actually, he had been more concerned with Phil or
the boys finding out about today, but he decided not to cloud the issue. The
important thing was that it looked like their secret was going to be safe.
	"Hey Dude, listen, you wanna do us a favor? You wanna see if the girls want
to get together for another game sometime?"
	"WHAT THE HELL?! Milo, are you out of your fucking mind! Don't you ever
think-"
	"Dude, chill! Look, I wasn't talking' poker, okay? We learned our lesson,
man. An' we're really sorry about the way we slammed Gia on the board today.
	"Look, in a couple'a weeks we're startin' a new RPG, it's gonna be an urban
bug hunt. No magic, and we'll fix the girls up with some real nice character
profiles. No more slammin', I swear. Avery says he'll even apologize, too.
Just ask 'em, okay?"
	Joe thought about it for a few minutes, and then finally agreed. An urban
bug hunt meant chasing aliens through the streets of a modern city and was,
in his opinion, one of the best RPG scenarios there were. If Milo and the
Kings were really sincere about apologizing and treating the girls fairly,
it might actually be a lot of fun. He said as much, then rang off and went
out to watch movies with his hosts.
			* * *
	The first movie they watched was a Jackie Chan comedy, which had the three
of them rolling on the couch with laughter. Some of the other members of the
Cameron family stopped by the living room for short periods, but they didn't
linger. Phil and Bobby both had dates for the evening, and Johnny was
playing guitar with some musician friends downtown. Neither of the girls
knew where George was planning to go, but it was a safe bet that it had
something to do with cars. The upshot of it was that Becka, Gia and Joe had
the house all to themselves, and no school the next day. And they had enough
videos and popcorn to last until dawn.

	At the end of the first movie while the credits rolled they showed the
outtakes, which was the custom in all Jackie Chan films. These consisted
mostly of stunts that had gone wrong, usually resulting in Jackie or one of
the other actors getting hurt. The girls in particular had a great time
poking holes in the fight scenes.
	"No way! Did you see that? He dove right through that little hole, even you
couldn't squeeze through something that small, G. How do you fit a forty
year old Chinese guy through there in the middle of a fight?"
	"Lookit, lookit that! Did you see the way that guy just went flying? There
is no way you can get enough leverage from that angle to kick somebody that
hard. Becka, give me the remote, I want to see that part over again."
	"Nothing doing. Once you start pausing and rewinding you never stop. Now we
can-oh come on, no way are you gonna do that in a real fight!"
	"Ooh, ooh! See the wrist lock? That's the one Daddy was trying to teach you
last week. Go back, I want to show you something. There, you see? He's doing
that way too fast, you can't control your opponent. He'll either pull away
or you'll break his fingers like breadsticks. Now what you should do there
is -"
	 "Hey! Siskel and Ebert, do you mind? Some people just want to watch the
movie."
	Joe's complaint was met with a long moment of silence, followed quickly by
two throw pillows swung at him. Ducking and grinning, Joe grabbed the pillow
that he had been sitting on and for the next few minutes he managed to give
almost as good as he got. But after the laughter and the battle had petered
out, the conversation turned back to the difference between movie martial
arts and the actual thing.
	"So you guys really do know a lot about fighting, don't you? I mean like
karate and stuff."
	Gia snorted. "Well, duh. We own a dojo and I've only been training in it
since I was seven! And Becka's been getting the advanced course from the
whole family since we adopted her."
	"Yeah, hanging with G is a great way to learn how to throw a punch. I used
to think I was pretty tough before, but now I know the difference. Gia still
knows a lot more'n me, but I've beaten her a couple of times now in
practice."
	Joe blinked, looking at the younger girl in surprise.
	"Are you saying that Gia's tougher than you are, Becka?"
	"Oh, yeah."
	Gia shrugged. "She's bigger than I am, and she's got the reach. Plus she's
got a mean streak a yard wide." That last comment earned her an elbow in the
ribs from her sister, which only made her grin unrepentantly.
	"But I have been at this for over ten years now. And even though size
really does matter, skill matters more. Knowing how to hit, and where to
hit, is what usually wins a fight."
	Joe's brow wrinkled in a frown. "What do you mean, by knowing how and
where? Don't you just hit them as hard as you can?"
	"It means just what I said. Look, if you don't know what you're doing, you
can hit someone a hundred times and still not put them down. Or if you do
know you can strike just once, and the fight's over. Here, Becka, stand up
and let's show him."
	The two girls rose from the couch and moved towards the center of the room,
which they quickly cleared by moving the coffee table and chairs to the
sides and out of the way. Their actions were coordinated and done without
conversation, as if they had performed this particular feat many times
before. Remembering that Gia taught classes at the family dojo, Joe decided
that it was likely that they had. When the center of the room was finally
cleared Becka took a position across from her sister, her body straight and
relaxed, waiting for whatever was to come. Gia turned towards Joe and held
up her right hand at waist level, her fingers curling and forming a small
fist.
	"I can snap a punch that will break a one inch thick pine board in half.
It's no trick, I do it all the time as a demonstration for new classes. It's
all just a matter of focus, speed, and knowing how to put some real power
behind it. Becka can do it too, and we could probably teach you how in a
couple of days. But one punch by itself rarely wins a fight, so we have to
practice hitting hard, fast, and often."
	Suddenly Gia spun around, and with a movement so fast it was just a blur
her fist shot out towards Becka's face. Like a piston her hand went only so
far, stopping less than an inch from her sister's nose, snapping back to her
side, and then out and back again twice more. Face, chest, and stomach,
three blows in less than a second. Joe felt his eyes go wide, and knew that
if he had blinked he would have missed the whole thing.
	Those punches that Gia said could break a wooden board in two, had been so
perfectly controlled that he had clearly seen Becka's T-shirt dimple under
the impacts of the blows. And yet the blonde girl hadn't reacted in the
slightest, which Joe guessed said a lot about her trust in her sister's
abilities.
	"But the problem with fists is that bones don't compress," Gia continued.
The smaller girl had turned back to Joe and was once again speaking in her
lecturing voice, a strange shift after the violent display. She could have
been his math teacher, standing in front of the class to explain some
esoteric function of calculus. "They're great for body shots and against
soft tissue, but if you hit a bony surface like the skull or the jaw, then
you're risking a broken knuckle. So for any blow to the head you should use
one of the padded parts of the hand, like the edge or the palm."
	Gia turned again to demonstrate, but this time Joe had no trouble following
the action, as she was moving in slow motion. With her hand bent backwards
and her fingers curled, the heel of her palm led the strike as she stepped
across the distance to her target. She moved back and then did it again,
this time stepping to the side and miming a horizontal slash across the face
with the edge of her hand. Each time Becka obligingly leaned her head back
as Gia's arm reached it's full extension, and straightened up again when the
other girl's hand returned to her side.
	"You can also use elbows and even a finger point strike to the eyes or
throat, but those are really dangerous and shouldn't be used unless you're
willing to risk killing someone. Personally, I prefer using my feet."
	Without warning Gia was suddenly moving again at top speed, bending at the
waist and whirling like a top, her foot snapping out impossibly high. But
this time Becka took a step backwards, at the same time as she raised her
hand, slapping at Gia's ankle and deflecting it at the last instant. But her
sister's foot had barely touched the ground before it was up again and
snapping at her knee, making her dodge backwards. But now Becka was
responding by throwing punches and kicks of her own.
	For the next couple of minutes Joe had the deja vu feeling that he had
somehow been pulled into the movie that they had just finished watching. The
two girls sparred across the floor, moving in a dance as fast as it was
intricate. Just like in the movies, except that this time it was real. This
was here, now, right in front of his eyes and close enough to touch. He
could actually hear the slap of flesh on flesh from the blows that connected
or the strikes that were blocked, and felt the floor shake as they stamped
and fought across it.
	There was none of the shouting or screaming that he had seen in the movies,
though. Instead the Cameron sisters fought in near silence, their mouths
tight in concentration, the only exception an occasional grunt of effort.
But there must have been some sort of communication going on, because
abruptly and without a word the two girls broke off and stepped apart. In a
moment of ancient custom they faced each other, pulling themselves smoothly
up into rigidly held positions of attention. Solemnly they bowed, rose
upright once more, and then broke into identical, face cracking grins.
	Joe let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He shook his head
wryly as the girls flopped back down onto the couch next to him, their
breath coming fast, a fine sheen of sweat masking their faces and making
them seem to shine.
	"That last part was just you two showing off, wasn't it?" he asked, trying
to sound wry and unimpressed.
	Gia giggled, but also nodded.
	"You guys do that a lot?"
	Becka jerked a thumb over her shoulder at her sister. "She does. I just go
along with it so she doesn't sulk."
	"Hey, I do not sulk!"
	Becka rolled her eyes so theatrically that Joe had to grin. He bit his lip
to keep from laughing at the petulant look now on Gia's face. Finally he
pulled it together enough to ask the important question.
	"That was more than just showing off, though, wasn't it? You guys did that
whole Bruce Lee thing for a reason, didn't you?"
	There was a small spark of satisfaction at seeing both girls looking
sheepish. "Told you he was sharp," Gia muttered. Becka scratched her head
and shrugged.
	"Okay, you're right. We were trying to prove something to you. Look, we
know that you get picked on a lot at school, and not just by Harper and his
pet Nazis, either. That whole place is full of psychos like them. I mean,
Gia and me, we can watch your back and help you out a lot, and we'd be glad
to do that. But we can't be with you all the time. Joe, you've got to let us
teach you how to fight.
	"Now I know that guys might think it's unmanly or something to learn how to
fight from girls, but you know that's just crap! I mean, you've seen us now,
you've seen what we can do. And just because we're girls doesn't mean-"
	"Okay."
	"Uhh... what?"
	"I said, 'okay'."
	For several long moments all the sisters could do was to stare at him, and
then at each other. Joe rolled his eyes and sighed.
	"Look, you just got done saying how sharp you thought I was, so how come
you're so surprised when I agree with you about this? What you said makes a
lot of sense, and I really, really hate getting the snot kicked out of me
every other week. So yes, if you're offering to teach me how to fight, then
I'm taking you up on it. When do we start?"
	Becka exchanged looks with her sister, who shrugged. It wasn't what they
had been expecting, but they weren't going to do any dental exams on this
horse. Gia rose from the couch and headed for the hallway.
	"I'll go get the books."
			* * *
	Joe spent the next hour pouring over the stack of martial arts manuals that
Gia had fetched from the shelves of her father's den. The books were both
technical and highly illustrated, as they would need to be for this
particular subject, he thought. In fact, he found it amazing just how much
of a science the 'martial arts' really were.
	Phil Cameron's manuals came from different authors and publishers, but they
all shared the same step by step style of teaching. The many illustrations
were in color, black and white, or simple pen and ink sketches. But their
attention to the details of each and every move was reminiscent of the
computer texts that Joe had studied in school. Position, stance, leverage,
direction of force, it was all closely examined and picked apart. Their were
even anatomical drawings from medical books, pointing out the
vulnerabilities of all areas of the body, and exactly what happens when
joints are bent in directions nature never meant them to go.
	And the articles that he read were just as fascinating as the pictures. Not
just the how-to nuts and bolts of mayhem, but also some incredibly
insightful treatises on the philosophy of aggression and counter aggression,
offense and defense. It was a whole new world that he now held in his hands,
one that caused his pulse to quicken with a growing excitement.
	After awhile, an awareness finally managed to pierce it's way through his
involvement. When they had first sat down to show him these new wonders, the
three way conversation had been highly animated, Joe's curiosity growing
like wildfire, and the girls eager to show and point and explain. But as he
had allowed himself to be drawn deeper into the lure of the written word the
need for conversation had petered out, until now his occasional question was
answered with little enthusiasm. As he pulled his nose out of the books and
looked closely at his two hosts, he could clearly see them squirming,
exchanging meaningful looks and obviously preoccupied by something.
	What was it he was sensing here? Joe tweaked his radar and tried sending
out a few feelers. What was it that was occupying his two friends so m -
	Oh.
	Just like that, and Joe suddenly decided to call it a night. Closing the
book he had been reading with it's article about pressure points in the
neck, he rose from the couch and spoke.
	"Uh, guys, I'm pretty beat. I know there's no school tomorrow and you
rented all these movies, but it's been a really busy week for me, you know?
So if it's all the same to you, I'm going to bed early, okay?"
	Becka and Gia both feigned indifference to his announcement, but he was
pretty sure he saw them exchange a look of relief. They said their
goodnights as he gathered up the half dozen books they had lent him and
left. Neither of them saw the grin on his face as he headed for the stairs.

	"Sooo," Gia drawled, as she began to shuffle through the DVD's on the
coffee table. "Which one do you want to see next?"
	Becka looked at her with one raised eyebrow. "You've got to be joking," she
said, as she reached across her grinning lover and turned off the light.

	In any relationship between people there must be some form of custom or
ritual. It is a part of the human condition, and as immutable in us as is
the need to procreate. For strangers there are the polite fictions of
courtesy, that allow them to interact without giving offense or causing
strife. For more personal relations, such as friends or family, the customs
grow more intimate, and the rituals have deeper meaning. Each time they are
performed they reaffirm that relationship, and the foundation that it is
built on. For good or for ill, they bind us together, and there are none
more cherished than those between lovers.
	The lights from the hallway and the blue glow of the patio spots streaming
through the plate glass windows, kept the family room from being completely
dark. But the deep shadows served their purpose, giving the young lovers the
privacy they had been longing for all night. They snuggled together on the
couch, giggling at first, like two children playing at a game. They kissed,
short little pecks on grinning lips. But the playfulness was fading fast,
being replaced by something more, something larger. A consuming need. Two
hearts began to beat faster, as tongues lightly touched and became fire.
	Becka paused, feeling a tremor flash quickly through her body. She raised
herself up on her elbows and gazed down at the shadowed face beneath her.
She didn't need the light to know every plane and curve of that face, or the
soft brown eyes that could see into her own soul. She knew them intimately,
just as she knew the hand that now reached up to stroke her cheek.
	Without a word the younger girl sat upright, her arms and legs spreading
expectantly while her sister rose to her knees. Then with the practiced
movements of familiar custom Becka turned, and lay herself back into Gia's
embrace. Small arms, delicate yet strong, that now held her as a mother
would a child, bringing comfort and the promise of  safety.
	One of the greatest changes that Becka found when she came to her new
family was this need to be touched. It was so bizarre, considering what she
had been through, what she had survived. There had been a time when anyone
holding her like this would have set off a violent panic reaction in her,
followed quickly by a mad dash out the nearest door. Ten times as bad if the
person doing the holding had been a man. But now she knew that she needed
this contact, found some of her own strength while being held by the father
and three brothers that she knew loved her. They made her feel safe, a
feeling she hadn't known since years before her mother's death.
	And yet to Becka the safest place in the world was still in Gia's arms. She
knew it must look ridiculous, being cradled like this by a girl only half
her size, and feeling more protected than in the bear like arms of their
father. And yet there it was, this was her reality. Gia was both her lover
and her savior, her bringer of peace, and there were still times when being
held by her was the only thing that could keep the bad dreams away.
	The ritual continued for a long time, Gia stroking her shoulders and
nuzzling her hair, making cooing sounds that had no words but nonetheless
promised many things. In the darkness she could hear the younger girls'
heart beat, smell her musky aroma under the new cologne with the scent of
exotic flowers. The little girl need to be comforted was soon satisfied, and
something else began stirring within her.
	Gia smiled when Becka took her hands and placed them on her breasts. She
could feel her lovers' hard nipples pressing into her palms, stiff and firm
through the twin layers of both bra and cotton shirt. She heard Becka hiss
through her teeth, as she felt the older girl arch her back as she grasped
and fondled her tender flesh.
	Becka was moaning out loud now, clutching at the hands covering her
breasts. Gia, who had been kissing the back of her lover's neck, stopped
with a gasp as she felt Becka's hips grind between her open legs. A wave of
warm, liquid pleasure spread out from the point of contact, making her legs
tingle and bright sparks flash behind her eyes. The intensity of the sudden
rush made her whimper, as she pulled her lover closer and held her body with
a desperate strength.
	With a soft growl that came from someplace deep, Becka suddenly broke away
from her embrace, turning around to hover over her with a wild and feral
look in her eyes. Her breath was a harsh sound as she stared down at her,
then suddenly she grabbed Gia's wrists in an iron grip and pinioned them
against the cushions above her head. She kissed her, hard and fierce,
grinding her lips possessively. In a manner that said as clear as a spoken
shout, you are mine!
	And Gia responded with a fervor that matched her in every way. God, how she
loved this! The mercurial Becka, and the way she could change in an instant
like the direction of the wind. First the tenderness, and now the wild
passion. Her need for comfort, so suddenly replaced by an animal hunger that
would not be denied.
	She felt Becka release one of her wrists, the free hand now coming down to
clutch at her small breasts in a surprisingly gentle touch. She brought her
own hand down to grasp Becka's hair, pulling her lips in harder, thrusting
herself deeper into her lovers mouth. The hunger had spread and now it rode
them both, as it had so many times before. And also as before, clothing gave
way to hot flesh and questing tongues, moans of pleasure rising to cries of
climax. The reaffirmation of who they were and what they meant to each
other. The pledge that it would always be so.
	The customs and rituals of lovers.

(continued)