Date: Mon, 01 Nov 2004 19:53:40 -0800
From: RC in Sacramento <sacwriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: Munchkin, Chptr 13

This is a work of fiction. It depicts the often sexual relationship between
two young girls. If this offends you or if you're not old enough to be
reading this stuff, then get out NOW. If, however, you're where you want to
be, then enjoy.

			 MUNCHKIN
			 Chapter 13
			by Sacwriter


	When Joe finally got out of the shower he felt a little like the washcloth
he had just rung out, but otherwise he was doing alright. Or at least he was
until he remembered the events of the past half hour, which only made him
groan in pain. And when he looked at the stack of neatly folded clothing
sitting on the toilet seat and realized that one of the Cameron sisters had
actually come into the bathroom while he was showering, he groaned even
louder.
	Mechanically Joe dried himself off, and then used the corner of the towel
to wipe the condensation from the mirror. He leaned on the sink for awhile
and stared at his reflection, surprised by the fact that he didn't look any
the worse for wear after his mini drinking binge. His reflection glumly
assured him that this condition wouldn't last, not after Becka got her hands
on him. He was pretty sure that she wouldn't kill him, but the beating would
probably be severe. Aww, Christ, had he actually asked Becka Jackson to take
a shower with him? Bad, bad, bad.
	With a sigh and a shake of his head Joe picked up the pile of clothing from
the toilet seat and carefully set it down on the counter. Then he raised the
lid and urinated, releasing the pressure from his bladder. On their way up
to his room he and the girls had stopped in the kitchen, where they had made
him consume two glasses of water and three pieces of bread to help dilute
the beer in his stomach, which was why his kidneys had been calling him
names.
      After flushing he dressed slowly, wondering if he could get away with
moussing his hair for another hour or two. But an insistent pounding on the
bathroom door told him he had stalled long enough, so with a reluctant sigh
he finally opened the door to face the music.
	Becka and Gia were both sitting sprawled on his bed, watching him
expectantly with identical smirks on their faces. Joe groaned and rolled his
eyes, his ears already burning. This was going to be worse than the beating.
	"Hey, slick. You feeling better now?"
	"I can't believe that you guys did that to me!" he snapped back, his face
turning a bright shade of red.
	Becka covered her mouth and let out a smothered laugh. Gia lost her smile,
but only because she was making a valiant effort not to. She drew herself up
and answered him in a mature and formal manner, marred by the fact that her
lower lip was trembling.
	"Now Joe, you know that was an emergency. Dad was on his way home, and, and
you were drunk. If, um, if he had seen you like that, he would have been,
um, very upset---"
	"You threw me on the bed, and stripped off all my clothes, and then you
threw me into an ice cold shower!"
	Becka totally lost it then, grabbing her sides and making strangling noises
into one of the pillows. Gia punched her in the arm, but it was a weak
attempt, as she was busy trying to keep a straight face herself.
	"Tha-, that's not entirely true, Joe. We didn't throw you in there naked!
We left you your, your underwear..."
	"And your socks!" Becka howled, which was the last straw for her sister.
Gia collapsed on the bed next to Becka, both of them helpless with laughter.
	Joe looked at them sadly, shaking his head.
	"You two are evil," he intoned somberly, "and you need to be punished." He
moved towards the bed, snatching away the remaining pillow before Gia could
get her hands on it, and began to administer the punishment.
			* * *
	Phil had arrived sometime during the pillow fight, they found him
downstairs twenty minutes later already in the middle of making tacos for
lunch. His two daughters and their guest arrived in the kitchen just in time
to set the table, and then inhale their food in the way only growing
teenagers could. Phil made the usual mock complaints about how fast his hard
work was disappearing, but the truth was he always got a kick out of
somebody enjoying his cooking, and the three kids knew it.
	At the end of the meal Phil invoked cook's privilege, and set the younger
people to cleaning up, while he retired to his easy chair to watch the news.
He hadn't been there long before he felt the familiar weight of Gia's arms
snaking around his neck from behind in one of her stealth hugs. He smiled,
enjoying the contact, and the warm flow of her unconditional love it always
brought.
	But he wasn't fooled for a minute.
	"Love you, Oso."
	"I love you too, kitten. Now what do you want?"
	"Hey, can't a girl tell her strong, handsome, incredibly generous father
that she loves him, without him looking for an ulterior motive?" Gia moved
around the chair as she talked, sliding into her familiar place on Phil's
lap, somehow managing the feat without taking her arms from around his neck.
	"If that was all you wanted, you would have waited until after the kitchen
was done, instead of sticking your sister and Joe with it." Phil's arms
automatically reached around his daughter, pulling her in tight. "So spill
it, you shameless little manipulator. What do you want and how much is it
going to cost me?"
	Gia giggled, sending little tickling sensations along his cheek where her
face was nestled. But then she sat up and turned to face him, and they both
knew that the kidding was over and the serious conversation about to start.
	"It's not going to cost anything, Dad, I just have to tell you something.
We went over to Joe's house this morning, and... and it had been trashed. I
mean like it was vandalized. And it was pretty bad, too. Somebody had ripped
up most of Joe's garden, and broken a window, and spray painted things all
over the walls and the garage. Nasty things. No real damage, I mean, nothing
that can't be fixed with a coat of paint and a new window. But it really
upset Joe, especially the stuff that was painted on the walls."
	"Damn," Phil swore under his breath. He still didn't know all the details
regarding Joe's problems at school, but he knew enough or had guessed enough
to figure out that this was obviously connected. His first question as a
father, though, was just how much danger did this put his kids in?
	"Do you know who did this, honey?"
	Gia sighed. "Oh, yeah. We know exactly who's responsible. Don't worry,
though, Becka and I aren't in any trouble."
	"You sure about that?"
	"Yeah, Dad, these guys are strictly small time. They were afraid of Becka
before we adopted her, and they know better than to mess with us now.
	"But Joe is awfully scared of these guys. They'll hurt him real bad if they
get a chance, and he knows it. Becka and I have got to protect him, at least
until he can learn to protect himself."
	Phil Cameron listened to his daughter's words, and for the most part he
agreed with them. But he was still frowning, recalling a time not so long
ago when Gia had sat in his lap just like this, and then they had had a
similar conversation. The memory brought a frown to his face, and a dark
look that roiled behind the mask of his eyes.
	"Kitten, do you remember the last time we talked like this? When you told
me that one of your friends was in trouble, and you said you wanted to help
them?"
	Gia frowned, searching his face, trying to imagine whatever it was that so
concerned her father. He knew the instant she figured it out, as her eyes
opened wide and she tensed in his arms.
	"Oh."
	"Yeah, right. `Oh'. That was when you first told me about Becka and her
troubles. You said you wanted us to help her, too. "
	"Well, yeah, but... that turned out okay. I mean, we got Becka out of all
that."
	"Oh, for... Gia, you and Becka were almost killed! You both ended up in the
hospital, and it's never okay when I have to go to that place to see one of
my kids. Damnit..."
	Something welled up in Phil's chest, rising to his throat and temporarily
choking off his words. The big man closed his eyes and took a deep breath,
slowly letting it out while he waited for the emotion to fade. When he was
sure he was under control again he eased his daughter off his lap and onto
the hassock that went with his chair, where he could look at her face to
face. He met her curious gaze with a direct one of his own, and when they
came his words were soft, but every bit as serious as any he had ever
spoken.
	"Honey, we all love Becka. And don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no
regrets about what happened last year. She is by far the best thing that's
happened to this family since we lost your mother.
	"But Gia, the two of you nearly died! Your sister all but bled to death
after what Ralph Danning did to her. And then those friends of his who tried
to kidnap you, do you remember what they had in the back of that van? What
they admitted to in court?"
	The sober look she gave him said that she did indeed remember. The two men
from Danning's drug running gang had intended to kill her, and in the back
of their van they carried a tarp and two shovels.
	"They... are you saying that we shouldn't help Joe out?"
	"No, honey. I'm just saying that I don't want to see you two hurt, ever
again. Now these guys that are after Joe, you say that you know who they
are?"
	"Yeah. It's Gary Harper and two of his friends, Matt Ingles and Ronnie
Hooker. But they're nothing to worry about, really, just three nasty little
boys who should have been spanked a lot more when they were young. Becka and
I aren't afraid of them."
	"Uh huh. This guy Harper wouldn't happen to be another drug dealer, would
he? Or maybe he's in a gang?"
	A small laugh burst out of his daughter, trailing off into a giggle which
she hid behind her hand. Her eyes were twinkling when she looked back at
him.
	"Dad, Gary Harper is nothing more than a spoiled richboy, who gets off on
bullying people who can't fight back. He's not a drug dealer, and I doubt he
belongs to triple A, much less a gang. He's a tough guy wannabe, that's all.
Look, you remember me telling you about when Becka and I first came out at
school, about us being gay?"
	"Yeah, something about you guys making out on the school bus, wasn't it?"
	Gia slapped at his knee. "It was just a kiss! But that's beside the point,
what I'm talking about happened during lunch that day. Harper was the first
person to say something mean to us about being gay, and I told him off and
poured a glass of soda all over his head for it. In front of the whole
school, too. And other than a few glares in the hallway, he's steered clear
of us ever since. Believe me, Daddy, Becka and I have got nothing to be
afraid of from that little weasel."
	Phil chuckled, the noise rumbling from his chest sounding like rocks in a
wooden bucket.
	"Okay, hon, I'll take your word for it. You and Becka are more than able to
handle these kids, so I'll butt out. Now what are your plans for today? Are
you going to go over to Joe's and help him clean his place up?"
	"Yeah, we have to, and the sooner the better. Becka noticed some cans of
house paint in their garage, the same color as the outside. We'll get those
awful words covered up first, and then we'll work some more on fixing up
Joe's garden. And we have to call a glazer and arrange to get that broken
window fixed, too."
	"Was it a picture window?"
	"Uh huh."
	"Ouch. That's going to be expensive. You'll probably have to call his aunt
and get some money from her, I doubt she left Joe enough to cover something
like that."
	"Um, actually we were kind of hoping we wouldn't have to tell Joe's aunt
about any of this. Becka and I can cover it if we need to, and she doesn't
have to ever know—what, why are you shaking your head like that?"
	"Honey, I talked to Mattie, I know what she's like, remember? She's proud,
she got all bent when she found out you two paid for Joe's new glasses, how
do you think she's going to feel about a two or three hundred dollar repair
bill? Besides, it's her house and Joe is her responsibility, you have to
tell her because she's got a right to know."
	Gia grimaced, but in the end she nodded her head. "I guess you're right,
Dad. We'll call and tell her tonight, after she gets off of work. Do you
know of anybody who can fix that window?"
	"Check the rolodex in my office, Manning Brothers was the company that
handled our place. Mention my name and they might give Joe a discount."
	"Thanks, Daddy," Gia kissed him on the cheek and gave him another hug, then
rose to her feet. "We should be done early, and be home by dinner."
	"Do you kids need any help? We can always draft one of your brothers to
lend a hand."
	"No thanks, Dad. There's not really that much to do, and besides Becka says
she's already got someone coming over to help."

	After Gia had left Phil sat in his chair for awhile, watching the last of
the afternoon newscast but not really seeing it. Eventually he turned the
television off and rose from his chair, walking over to one of the full
length windows that looked out over the back yard of his family's home.
	This home, this house, with it's beautiful grounds and it's six foot high
adobe walls around them, had been his dream for years. His and his late wife
Lupe's. Even before the birth of their first child they had talked about a
place all their own, a home where a family could grow up strong and safe. It
took more than twenty years to build this place, and his Lupe hadn't lived
to see it become a reality. But here they finally were, and it turned out
safety was still only a dream.
	Damn, but he had really overreacted! That sudden rush of emotion while
talking to Gia had taken him completely by surprise. This Harper kid was
obviously just some high school punk, the kind of pumped up bully that his
daughters could chew up and spit out like gum. He had trained them himself,
and had complete confidence in their ability to handle themselves. So what
was that feeling that had risen up and almost choked him, when his youngest
child had talked about this guy? What was that?
	Frustration, maybe? Helplessness?
	Phil sighed and crossed his arms, lost in self examination and memory. Five
months ago when Becka had run away and Gia was turning herself inside out
with worry, he could only stand by and watch as his youngest child suffered.
And then at the hospital after that bastard Danning had almost killed Becka,
and again a couple of weeks later when his friends had tried to kidnap Gia.
Impotent, that's just what he had felt. Helpless to protect the people he
loved. It had gnawed at him, like rats tearing out a piece of his heart.
More than anything else in this world, Phil Cameron hated that feeling.
	But what could you do? He had made this place a freaking fortress, yet he
couldn't danger proof the rest of the world. And that was where, sooner or
later, all of his kids would have to live. In the long run then, he truly
was helpless to protect them. The fact left a taste like bitter ash in his
mouth.
	Phil shook his head and turned away, leaving the view behind him, but not
his troubled thoughts. Violence was once again touching his family, and
despite Gia's assurances he was still worried about this Harper punk. He had
seen the look on Joe's face when he had collapsed out here the other night,
and when he had talked to Margie later it had been pretty easy to read
between the lines, mostly from the things she had left unsaid. Harper and
his buddies had assaulted Joe, and probably sexually at that. They had tried
to rape him. Maybe they hadn't gone all the way, because if they had his
girls would have brought Joe to a hospital and then the police, instead of
bringing him home like a stray kitten. But that kind of assault left damage
deeper than the physical, and it spread outward like a virus, to affect all
those who it touched.
      Becka was still plagued by nightmares, and Gia had had a few of them,
too. Hell, even he had trouble sleeping some nights. And now despite Gia's
assurances, he knew that same kind of violence was once again intruding into
their lives.
	And all Phil could do was stand by and hope for the best. And once again
feel helpless.
			* * *
	It was still warm enough to feel comfortable with the top down on the
Mustang. Becka was driving, with Joe in the shotgun seat and Gia in the
back, her long black hair unbound from it's ponytail and whipping in the
wind around her face. She and Becka were chatting, arguing about what music
should be playing on the CD. Gia wanted something by Nickel Back, but her
sister was holding out for Gorillaz. Joe was being careful to keep out of
it.
	Instead of going straight to Mattie's house they detoured for a quick stop
at Cameron Auto Detailers, where Becka worked. The older girl wanted to make
sure that the Aztec van mural she had worked on last week got it's final
treatment of Klear Kote, and also to pick up her notes for the next job. Gia
wanted to see the van, and while Joe showed it to her and proudly pointed
out the parts he had helped with, Becka disappeared into the back of the
shop. They were still standing around the vehicle making appreciative noises
when she got back, carrying a bucket of paint and several brushes.
	"Got some left over house paint that Dad used on the equipment shed.  We
can use it to help us fix up your house, Joe."
	"But we already have plenty of paint out in our garage. And besides," Joe
gestured at the dried paint drips on the outside of the can. "That's gray
paint."
	"This is gonna be the undercoat, we put in on first before we put on the
white. If we don't have something dark to cover all that graffiti, it'll
show through. Trust me, Joe, I know a little something about paint."
	With a glance at the van he had helped her with, Joe had to admit that was
probably true. He helped Becka load the paint, brushes, and some other
supplies into the trunk of the Mustang, and soon they were back on the road
and heading towards Joe's neighborhood. Becka ejected the Nickle Back album
in the CD player and popped in her own favorite.
      Joe was twisted in his seat, sitting with his back halfway against the
door and watching Becka drive. She was wearing a pair of RayBan sunglasses
which hid her eyes, but the rest of her face was so wide open in it's
animation, that he was having fun just looking at her. In fact he was
getting such a kick out of watching her laugh and talk and occasionally sing
snatches of song, swaying her shoulders to the music, that it was forcing
him to rather uneasily examine these new feelings he now had for her.
	He liked Becka Jackson, he liked her a lot. He felt closer to her than he
was to almost anyone else in his life, even Mattie and Milo. She had shared
intimate things with him, about herself and her past, and he had responded
in kind. There was no doubt that they now had some sort of a connection, but
just what kind was it? Riding in her Mustang, watching the way the wind made
her wild blonde locks dance around her face, just what was it he was
feeling?
	Joe sighed and looked away. Mostly right now he just felt tired. Tired and
with no end in sight, like he had been carrying a huge weight on his
shoulders and still wasn't allowed to put it down. The weight was his
problems, and even with all the help and support the Camerons had given him,
he still hadn't done anything to solve them. They were on their way to clean
up one, the vandalism done to his house by Harper and his crew, but then he
still had to go back to school and deal with them there. Them, and all the
other low-life psychos who had gotten off on causing him pain and
humiliation over the years, and would probably see his current problems as
just another sign of weakness. Joe was definitely not looking forward to
tomorrow.
	And yet, he found that he was feeling better than he had in days. He knew
he was going to get his ass kicked sometime soon, and maybe even put in the
hospital if the Harper mafia ever got a hold of him, but other than that he
was doing okay. All of the conflicting, convoluted issues that he had with
Becka were finally resolved, taken away like last week's garbage. His head
and his heart were clear on that. He didn't hate Becka, he knew she hadn't
been the cause of all his troubles, but he also knew that he wasn't in love
with her, either. She belonged to Gia, and he was happy for them. She was
his friend, and he cared about her, and that was good enough.
	And of course, if she could help keep him from getting killed in the coming
week, that would be nice too.
			* * *
	When they got to Joe's house, he was surprised to find someone waiting
there for them. A girl, leaning on the hood of a blue Honda hatchback. She
had long dark hair and wore faded blue jeans and a T-shirt with paint
splatters on it. Joe vaguely recognized her from school, but couldn't think
of her name. Gia solved that problem by shouting a greeting as she bounded
from the car.
	"Sammie! Glad you got here. Have you been waiting long?"
	"About ten minutes. This place was pretty easy to find." She nodded at the
glaring graffiti on the small house, and Joe felt his face go red. He felt
shamed at having someone else see what had been done to his and Mattie's
home.
	The girl, who Joe now knew to be Becka and Gia's friend Sammie Waters, was
shaking her head in disgust as she looked at the black and crimson filth
written on the white stucco. "Man, what a bunch of losers. Do you know who
did it?"
	"Yeah, Gary-fucking-Harper. This is Joe Munson, by the way. Joe, this is--"
	"Sammie Waters, I know. She's the one you're throwing the birthday party
for this weekend. Happy Birthday, by the way."
	The new girl grinned at him, and it seemed to take some of the sting out of
his embarrassment. "Thanks. And sorry to hear about all this trouble. What
did you do to piss a nutcase like Harper off?"
	He shrugged. "I'm short, and there's only one of me. That's all the reason
he needs, I guess. Um, are you here to help us?" he asked, gesturing at her
paint spattered T.
	"Yup. Becka called, and asked if I had anything planned for today, and like
an idiot I said I didn't and ended up getting drafted."
	"Uh...you don't have to..."
	"Relax, I'm kidding! I really didn't have anything to do today, and I like
spending time with those two. Besides, they're hosting my birthday party at
that mini-castle of theirs this Saturday, so this is no biggee."
	"If it's no biggee, then help me with these," put in Becka, she and Gia
coming back from the car and carrying bundles of plastic painting tarp. They
divided them between Joe and Sammie, and while they hauled the tarpaulins up
the driveway the sisters went back to the Mustang to get the rest of the
painting supplies.
      For the next half hour the conversation lagged, as the four of them
prepared the house and grounds for painting. Joe ended up helping Sammie
spread the plastic over the sidewalk and bushes that bordered the
graphitized walls, while Becka popped the lid off the can of gray latex and
stirred it's contents. Then while Gia held the paint trays steady, she
carefully poured the contents of the can into them. Soon the sharp smell of
DuPont's finest was battling it out with scents of warm grass and violets.
	"Sammie, you and Joe take this side of the house, me and G will take the
garage. When we're finished, we'll all work together on the porch. Use up
and down strokes, and don't try and cover the whole wall, we don't have
anywhere's near enough paint. Just get the graffiti, then we'll come back
tomorrow and do a better job with the second coat.
	"One last thing. Sammie, did you bring it?"
	"Sure did," she replied, digging into the overly large purse she carried
and bringing out an expensive looking digital camera with a photo lens. She
brought it to her eye in a smooth, well practiced motion, focused on the
vandalized wall before her, and quickly snapped off a single picture. It was
only then, as a flush of panic raced down his spine, that Joe remembered
Sammie Waters was the editor of the school newspaper.
	"NOOO!" he screamed, lunging for the camera, trying to snatch it out of the
girl's hands. Startled, Sammie yelped and jerked away, starting to backpedal
across the lawn. Frantically she held the expensive camera high, trying to
keep it safely out of reach of the maddened boy who seemed determine to
climb her like a tree, if necessary, to get to it. But before he could do
that two arms reached around his waist and grabbed him, lifting him off the
ground. There was a great roaring in his ears, but still he heard a voice he
recognized even over his panic, one he couldn't ignore.
	"Joe, what're you doing, you're scaring her!" Becka, swinging him off of
his feet as if he were a child.
	"She took a picture! She took a picture, she'll put it in the paper, and
everybody'll SEE! Becka, please, don't let her do it."
	Joe choked, and to his shame he felt hot tears pouring down his face. But
he couldn't help it, the fear had hit him too hard and too fast, like a slap
to the face from someone passing in a crowd. It was almost a flashback to
his panic attack. The thought of other people at school seeing what had been
done to his home, maybe knowing what had been done to him, was too much.
Terror rode him like a demon, and for a second he smelled the dirty cold
tiles of the boy's room again, heard the harsh words of hate, felt his pants
being pulled down...
	Suddenly Gia was there, touching his face and making him look directly at
her, to hear her words over the frantic thudding of his own heart.
	"Joe! Listen to me, listen! Sammie's not going to print them in the paper,
she didn't come here for that. We asked her to take those pictures, Joe.
It's just for the insurance company, for your homeowners insurance. So your
aunt can get repaid for fixing that window. Nobody's going to see those
pictures, okay? Just the insurance people, Joe, I promise."
	Gia's words seemed to ease his terror, or maybe it was just the way Becka
was squeezing the breath out of him, but Joe finally calmed down enough to
nod his head. The blonde girl gently set him back down on his feet and let
him go, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He glanced sheepishly up
at Sammie, and felt a twinge of shame when he realized he really had
frightened her.
	"Umm, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I just... I guess when
you took that picture..." His words petered out and finally left him, and all
he could do was look away. There was an uncomfortable silence, finally
broken by Becka.
	"Uh, Joe? Maybe I should be your paint partner for today."

(continued)