Paradise Post #14-B

Notes: Extra long and slightly trippy, which fits the mood but may surprise you going in, so be ready for it.  To all my American friends, Happy Thanksgiving!  To those in other countries, fuck it, Happy Thanksgiving to you also!  I give thanks for every one of my awesome readers.

PS-no one's perfect, not even my darlings.  But I promise to work things out.

 

Title: Paradise

 

Part Fourteen, B: Garrett Interrupted

 

 

***

 

 

The first part of the day was…tolerable.  That was the best word Garrett could think of to apply to it, and it didn’t cover the soul-deep loathing that he held for Kilroy Dechiara, a man he’d met all of once and who probably didn’t deserve to be thought about the graphically destructive ways Garrett was thinking of him, but fuck it.  He was exhausted, he was hopped up on too much strong coffee and his brain felt like it was moments from going offline or exploding into bright black pieces.  His vision literally hazed over with color at times, and his stomach roiled with nausea.  It had been so long since Garrett had had acute symptoms, he’d forgotten what it was like.  Apparently, it was like being poisoned.  Fabulous.

He had to hold it together though, long enough to get through the day.  Then he could confess, and then he’d take whatever punishment his fiancé decided to dish out and finally he’d go blissfully unconscious for a while as the autodoc reset his hormone levels and put his brain back in order.  But first…game face.  He and Jonah and Miles sat across from Kilroy and his daughter Charlotte, and Garrett dug the fingernails of his left hand into his palm and reminded himself to keep his breathing easy and his face calm.  Calm.  It was all fine.

Kilroy was, admittedly, both scared and skeptical when he was brought into the Mansion.  He stared hard at Jonah and said, “So this is the way of things then, eh?”

“Not the way you think,” Jonah replied.  The tension in his voice was like a live wire, quivering and sparking through the air.  Garrett wanted to grab it and wrap it around his hands, and then hit that arrogant asshole of a Drifter in the face until he was quivering too.  He could see it all in his mind, and it made him feel better to have a plan.

“Sit down,” Miles said.  You didn’t talk back to Miles when he used that voice, and Kilroy and his daughter sat down almost before they could think about it.  It was like they’d been hammered into place.  Hammer voice…that was an interesting concept, actually, a sonic hammer that you could level against people who needed to be put down mercifully, although honestly, who really merited that?  Someone had certainly invented a non-lethal sonic hammer at some point, Garrett could look those specs up and make one for himself, he was good at that.  Then he could hammer the shit out of people who bothered his family and they’d back off without having to be dead or disfigured.  It was another good plan; he was really on fire right now.

Words happened, they passed through the air from mouth to ear, reverberated for a while and then came out again all rearranged.  Garrett tried to be attentive but honestly, who could really listen when you had the shapes of all those words to consider?  Trade, it was built like an old style ladder, climbing across nothingness until the next person swallowed it down.  Ha, food for thought.  Or thought as food.  Or something…what?

Kilroy looked dumbfounded.  That was a great word, heavy and rubbery.  Garrett keyed into what he was saying for a moment.  “Why in the sky would you offer us all of that?”

“Because you need it and we need you,” Miles said simply.  “Paradise is in a very brittle state.  A third party would help to defuse those tensions and give the populace another choice, and at the same time your people would have the option of a home base, and a way to expand your livelihoods without having to worry about being displaced.  As long as you didn’t directly aid in any terrorist activities, of course,” he added, and now his voice was hard again, the hammer voice.  It kind of hurt to hear, it was too much like anger.   “This offer is contingent on you behaving like law-abiding citizens and being willing to let us perform sweeps of your ships to prove it.”

“It’s a good deal, Kilroy,” Jonah said, and his voice was soft and persuasive and Garrett just wanted to wrap it around his aching head and let it muffle all the harsh light and loud noises.  Jonah had the best voice, drawling and affectionate and delicious.  It was warm and insulating, and in his mind Garrett stuck his hands into that honey-warm voice and let it ease their chills, because they were so cold that his fingers were practically numb.  In reality, his hands twitched a little but didn’t move from his lap.

There were more words following, debate, but it wasn’t trading blow for blow like Garrett had thought it might be.  It was more like grav-ball, with players getting mowed down every so often but generally getting closer and closer to the enemy’s goal until you scored.  That was good, Garrett could get behind that.  He watched his father and Kilroy gain a few meters, get struck back, gain a few more, and then suddenly the goal was there and something was being signed.  When had that happened?  Garrett hoped that he had at least managed to look like he was paying attention, because.  Not.  Happening.

Kilroy looked over at Jonah once the deal was gone, and his voice was oddly sympathetic.  “Jack’s going to come at you hard for this.”

“He already knows we’re not playing his game,” Jonah said, and when had that happened?  “He and his lawyer are on their way here.”

“Good luck with him.  He’s worse than a feral snipe over your boy.”

What the hell was a feral snipe?  Garrett immediately pictured a skinny, patchy little creature with oversized claws and fangs, hissing at him.  Then he pictured himself blowing it away into a snipe-shaped cloud of bloody particles, and felt better.

Kilroy and his daughter left, and the room seemed to take a breath as everyone sighed at once.  “Good.  That’s the hard part done,” Miles said.  “I’ll get the Gunny in here, he can go over what he’s prepared as far as a defense of your sole right to Cody.  You’ve only got an hour before Jack gets here with his lawyer, who is unfortunately rather biased against me as a representative of the Federation, so use your time wisely.  This could get ugly.”  He stood up and left the room.

Jonah lay back in his chair and kicked his legs out.  “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

“Me neither,” Garrett agreed.  “I was supposed to be tasting cakes with Claudia today.”

“Oh, hell.  I’ve been so wrapped up in Jack and Kilroy that I almost forgot about the wedding.”  Jonah smiled apologetically at Garrett and didn’t notice when his words took root in Garrett’s lungs and turned them to ice.  The wedding was the whole reason they were here, wasn’t it?  Really?  They had come to get married, and everything else had just sort of gone to shit after that, but getting married was still the big goal.  Not brokering living deals between two cultures, although Garrett supposed that was kind of, maybe, marginally important.  But that sort of thing happened every day, while Garrett had never ever been married before.  It was kind of momentous, if he said so himself.

“You did divorce Jack, didn’t you?” he forced out through chilly lips.  His lungs felt so icy it was amazing his breath didn’t steam in the air.

Jonah smiled crookedly.  “We were never officially married.  Couldn’t get my mama’s approval.  I didn’t think it mattered, when things were good.  And then it was too late to matter in the end.”

“Oh.”  Too late to matter.  Not good words.  Not applicable to them, but still not good.  Garrett wanted nothing more than to drag Jonah to the nearest official and get their marriage license, then wrap his fingers around Jonah’s hand as he signed the paper so he could feel the reality of the words. 

Jonah sat up a little.  “You look so tired, darlin’.  Why don’t you go catch a nap?  I can handle things with the lawyer.  Then you’ll be fresh for when we’ve gotta deal with Jack.”

Are you getting rid of me too?  Why was he trying to get rid of Garrett?  Had Jonah tired of him already?  “You don’t want me here?” Garrett asked, trying not to tremble.

“Course I want you here, but you look like you need sleep more.”

Ah.  A polite excuse.  Jonah didn’t want him here for this.  Garrett wasn’t being useful, he was distracting, he was stupid, he was useless.  “I’ll go.”  He stood up to leave.  Jonah stood up too.

“Wait,” he said.  He took Garrett’s shoulders in his hands and pulled him in close for a kiss.  Garrett inhaled and felt the ice in his chest melt with the warmth of Jonah’s breath.  He could still breathe.  His heart could still beat.  It wasn’t too late.  “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Garrett told him honestly.  “I’ll try to sleep.”

“I’ll come and get you before things get started.”

“Okay.”  Garrett left the room, passing Gunnery Sergeant Fred Bowman in the hall.  The gunny raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re not staying for the briefing?”  He sounded displeased.  It was like a smothering blanket had been thrown over the tiny happy flame that had just sprung up in Garrett’s mind.

Well, Garrett didn’t care about his displeasure.  He shrugged the blanket off.  “I’ve been told I need to sleep if I’m going to be useful this afternoon.”

Gunny eyed him.  “You do look like you need it.  But try to plan more responsibly in the future, won’t you?  This isn’t the sort of thing that one half of a couple should go through alone.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” you arrogant son of a bitch.  Garrett kind of wanted to smash his arrogant face into the wall, but this was their lawyer, they needed him.  He just left and walked down the hall toward the kitchen, because he was tired but he knew he wouldn’t sleep, not now.  He stopped a little ways outside of it when he heard the noise coming from the room.  He could hear Cody in there, and Wyl, and Claudia and the baby.  They sounded, well, happy.  Not at all worried like everyone else seemed to be.  Garrett peeked around the corner and took a look inside. 

They were all eating…cake.  Lots of tiny samples were spread across the kitchen counter and they were eating them and laughing, and they looked perfectly happy, and wasn’t that something he was supposed to do today?

Jonah doesn’t want me in the briefing and Claudia doesn’t need me for the wedding.  Great.  He could have gone in, but that would have felt like crashing a party.  Instead Garrett turned around and headed back to his suite, but even once he was on the bed, curled onto Jonah’s half, he couldn’t sleep.  He knew he wouldn’t, but he couldn’t even relax.  Garrett felt superfluous to his own existence.  Superfluous…a fluid word, thin and slippery, a word tossed off the top of a very high, very important building that oozed at great speed down the slick sides, dissipating more and more with every second, until it was nothing but a glaze sliding into a foggy, bogged down oblivion. 

There was an uncomfortable starkness to the whole thing that Garrett couldn’t tear his eyes away from.  He didn’t even move the first few times someone shook his shoulder.  “Garrett?”  Soft voice, sweet sounds.  “Gare?”  Her hand was too gentle.  “Honey, it’s time for the meeting.”

“What?”

“Gare?”  Claudia sat on the bed next to him and brushed his hair away from his forehead.  “Jack Vendam and his lawyer are here.  You need to come to the meeting.  Jonah and Mr. Bowman are waiting for you.”

“I’ll be right there.”  He smiled for her and it must have been convincing, because she left.  Garrett stopped in the bathroom and ran a freshening cloth over his face.  He looked at himself critically, then added some foundation beneath his eyes.  There.  Now he looked like he had rested.  He left his room and walked back into the belly of the beast, and found Jonah there with the gunny looking better than Garrett had expected. 

“Hey, darlin’.”  Jonah took his hand and pulled him down next to him on the couch.  “They’re coming in.”

“Showtime,” Garrett said.  The sergeant snorted.  Garrett refrained from kicking him in the head, just barely, before Jack and his lawyer were shown in.

Jack was not what Garrett had expected.  He was tall and broad, good looking but in a simple, hearty way.  His curly hair was a dark mirror of Cody’s, but beyond that the boy could have been all Jonah.  He was also angry.  He was seething, quietly, but Garrett could see it in the set of his shoulders and the shallowness of his breathing.  He was probably furious at being turned on by Kilroy, and now this.  His gaze fell on Garrett, dark and calculating, and it felt like two knives being driven through Garrett’s eye sockets.  Tiny, tiny, super sharp knives.  Monofilament blades, too thin to see but big enough to do damage.

Jack didn’t speak.  His lawyer, a thin, hatchet-faced woman, did.  “We’ll be suing for full custody of the child.”  Boy, she went on the offensive fast.  Jonah stiffened in shock.

“There’s no basis of law for that,” Sergeant Bowman said immediately.  “Your client has willfully ignored his parental rights for the past four years, no child support given, no efforts to reach out to the child taken.”

“My client was denied his parental rights when your client absconded with the boy.”

“Your client knew full well the intention and destination of his former spouse and could have reached out to stop them or become a part of the process at any time.  He didn’t.”

The words continued.  This was no game, nothing cooperative about it like the last one.  Each sentence was a salvo at the other side, and Jonah and Jack just stared at each other, neither of them willing to give an inch.  Garrett sat still and absorbed the energy of the words if not the words themselves; they were too rapid and to spiky for him to latch onto.

A file was displayed on the table.  “Medical records,” Jack’s lawyer said briskly.  “Concerning Cody’s health while in the sole custody of Jonah Helms.  Three incidences of broken bones, two incidences of illness requiring hospitalization.  These are hardly indicative of a caring and competent father.”

“Cody Helms is a natural, he’s genetically prone to incidents like this,” Bowman fired back.  “Most children can be treated for minor injuries in an hour; for Cody recovery takes weeks, even months.  His father took appropriate medical action at each incident.”

“But the circumstances surrounding the very incidents themselves are suspect,” she argued.  “Letting a child with special needs run rampant on a Drifter ship?  This is the definition of neglectful parenting.”

“I’ve never neglected my boy,” Jonah said, and his voice was hardly above a growl.  “And anything you’re getting’ from that particular source isn’t reliable.  My mother and I aren’t on the best of terms.”

“And yet you stayed on her ship and allowed her to watch your child?”  The lawyer sniffed derogatorily.  “Yet another example of poor decision making.”

“Either she’s a credible witness or a useless sack of a person, you can’t have it both ways,” Bowman said irritably.

“We have other witness statements on their way in right now.  This is just a preliminary meeting.”

“Good, then we’ll have plenty of time to compile our own statements concerning your client’s utter lack of parenting skills and inability to be a decent human being.”

“Mr. Vendam has never been convicted of a crime.”

“That hardly makes him a model citizen.”

The lawyers continued sparring for a while before things finally ran out of steam.  Garrett was seeing a rainbow of colors in his head, all of them dripping down into his mouth and making it taste bitter, but then Jack spoke up for the first time, and Garrett refocused on him with needle point scrutiny.

“I want to see Cody.”

“No,” Jonah said immediately.

“I want to see my son,” Jack repeated.  “I’m entitled to take a look at the boy you’ve kept from me for so long.  Does he even remember me?”

“Not fondly.”

“Because you’ve been lying to him about me,” Jack bit out.  “I want to see him.  Ain’t leavin’ here until I do, Jonah.”

Jonah glanced at his lawyer.  The sergeant shrugged his shoulders.  “It’s your call.  It won’t set any sort of precedent, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Jonah.  Please.”

The incongruity of the word coming out of Jack’s mouth was like a punch in the gut to Garrett, but it seemed to pacify Jonah.  He sighed.  “Fine.  Wait here.”  He left the room, and the lawyers began talking again, and Jack seemed to feel Garrett staring at him, and he stared back.  After a moment, he sneered. 

“You hardly even look like a man.”

“Mind your words, Mr. Vendam,” Bowman warned.

“He like you for your pretty face or for your money?”

“Be quiet,” Jack’s own lawyer warned.  Garrett was hardly bothered by Jack lashing out at him; honestly it made him feel better when the guy was being the enormous dick Garrett knew him to be, not someone worthy of Jonah’s consideration.  He didn’t say anything, just kept staring, and Jack shifted uncomfortably and finally looked away.

Jonah and Cody came in a minute later.  Cody was leaning into Jonah’s side, and he didn’t look happy to be here.  Jack’s face immediately changed though, becoming soft and smiling.  “Hey, Cody,” he said.

“Hi,” Cody mumbled, glancing over at the lawyers, then at Garrett.

“Can you come over here for a minute?  I just want to talk to you a little.”

“I don’t think so,” Cody said, even though he moved with Jonah as Jonah came back to the couch.  Jack reached out an entreating hand to him.

“Just for a minute?  You don’t have to sit with me, we can just talk.”

Cody looked down at his feet and mumbled, “No.”

“Cody,” Jack said, sounding a little exasperated now.  “I’m not gonna hurt you.  I just want to get a better look at you.  Come here.”  His hand closed the last few inches between them and clasped around Cody’s wrist.  Cody reflexively pulled back with a sound of discontent, and Garrett saw pure red.

That was wrong.  Jack’s hand on Cody was wrong, and so Garrett had to remove his hand.  He had to keep Jack from touching Cody.  In one smooth, fast move, Garrett reached over and grabbed Jack’s ring and pinkie fingers, the ones that allowed him to make a fist and close his hand, and broke them.  He didn’t even hear Jack’s howl or the gasps of surprise and dismay.  He reset his leverage, then broke Jack’s wrist, twisting it sharply to the right with a crack and bringing Jack down in a sprawling mess over the table.  Then he broke Jack’s elbow against his knee, just to be sure he couldn’t use the arm.  He thought about moving on to his shoulder, but then he heard the whimper.  Not Jack’s, he didn’t care about that, but Cody’s. 

Garrett looked over at Cody and saw his eyes were wide with alarm, and his lips were trembling.  He looked scared.  Scared of Garrett, and that was wrong, that was even worse than Jack wrong.  Garrett dropped Jack’s arm just as Jonah’s hands turned him around.  They gripped him too tightly, bruising.

“What the hell?” Jonah demanded.  His anxious eyes searched Garrett’s face, and Garrett felt the judgmental weight of them.  “What’s wrong with you, Garrett?”  That was a good question, an angry question.  Everything was wrong with him, apparently.

“Clearly this is an unsafe environment for the child!” Jack’s lawyer shouted as she helped Jack to sit up.  “We’ll be filing criminal assault charges in addition to—”

“No.”  It was the hammer voice, Miles’ voice.  He was at the doorway, had probably come running when he heard Jack scream.  He was staring straight at Garrett.  “My son needs serious medical attention and your client needs a doctor.  One is already on the way.  You are staying here because this discussion is far from over.  Garrett,” he moved in close, pushed Jonah’s clenching, painful hands out of the way and cupped Garrett’s face with his own.  “Son, when’s the last time you took your medication?”

“What?”  Garrett’s mind was fuzzy with shock, the reality of what he’d just done slowly seeping in.  Oh…oh no.  “What?”

“Your medication.”  Miles’ voice was soothing and cool, talking him down like he had during the Year of Togetherness, learning to live again after being institutionalized.  “When did you last take it?”

“Weeks ago.”

“Oh, Gare.”  His father pulled him close and brought their foreheads together.  “We need to get you to the infirmary.  We’re going to go now, all right?”

“What’s happenin’?”  Jonah didn’t sound angry any more, just confused, but Garrett still couldn’t bring himself to look at him.  “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you later.”  Miles gently pulled Garrett through the crowd of people now in the room, away from Jonah and Cody, away from Jack and his pitbull, away from Wyl and Robbie and Claudia who were looking at him with wide eyes.  He kept his gaze on his father, the only one holding him together right now.  They moved slowly, Miles stepping backwards the whole way to the infirmary, keeping Garrett’s eyes occupied.  If he looked away, he would die, splintered into a thousand pieces.  He was sure of it.

“Come on, son.”  Garrett followed the eyes and the voice and the gentle hands, until he was laid back on a spongy bed.  Miles put restraints on his wrists and ankles, looking apologetic, but Garrett didn’t mind.  You couldn’t let a crazy person just go running around unshackled.  A hologram leapt into the air and said things, and made Miles look like he was in pain.  Garrett had to do something to make it better.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”  His father kissed his forehead.  “You have to sleep for a while now, son.”

“No, I can’t!”  Garrett tried to sit up, suddenly remembering what he had to do, but the restraints were already in place.  “No!  I have to tell Jonah something, something important…”  But what was it?  “There was something, please,” he pleaded with his father.  “I have to tell him.  He’s going to leave me and he won’t even know what I did to deserve it.”

“He won’t leave you.  He loves you.  You can tell him when you wake up, baby boy.”

“No…” Garrett felt drowsy and hated it.  He knew it was the medication the autodoc had administered.  “No, Dad.  Dad…”

“It’s okay, Gare.”  Through the stars flying across his vision Garrett could make out Miles’ face, still comforting, still watching him.  Watching him…Miles was here, he would make it okay.  He had never lied to Garrett before, he took care of him when it was bad.  “Go to sleep.  You’ll have a chance to make things better when you’re healthy again.”

“M’not…not right.”

“But you will be, son,” Miles promised him.  Garrett let the heavy solemnity of that promise draw him down into the well of unconsciousness.  There, at least, there was no more pain.

 

Upcoming and Incoming Fics

Well hi!

First things first--there are lions (one cougar) and bears (a mama and three cubs) around my house this year.  No tigers, but we do have one huge elk, some marmots, and the resident herd of deer.  Crazy, there's so much wild kingdom around here right now.  Craaazy.  But cool.

Second, thanks so much to the people who participated in the Hurricane Sandy Story Auction on the Babes In Boyland blog.  The winning bid for yours truly came from SL Armstrong, which means I'm going to be writing some very edgy vampire fic for her soon.  I also took on a second story for another excellent donation, and this time I was asked for more Ferran and Jason (of Changing Worlds) from Ferran's POV, which is going to be awesome.  Awesome!

And lastly, I wasn't planning on bidding on the auction, but then K Piet made a remark on twitter that made me want a very particular sort of story, and she prompted me to bid to get it.  So...I did.  Which means that soon, I'm going to be getting me some priest kink.  Don't judge me for my kinks, people:)  You know if you could have one of your favorite authors write you absolutely anything you wanted, you totally would. 

PS, this isn't our elk, but he's just about that big.

Paradise Post #14-A

Notes: I have rewritten the second half of this twice, and it’s still not quite right.  I don’t want to give you crap, so this is the first half.  I’m still beating—I mean, caressing the second half into submission.  I’ll try to post it before another week goes by, though.

 

Title: Paradise

 

Part Fourteen-A: So Close, Yet…

 

 

***

 

It was the speed of it all that surprised Jonah the most.

In retrospect he knew he shouldn’t have been so surprised.  Garrett was capable of incredible efficiency when he wanted to be, and he had to learn it somewhere.  Apparently his role model was his father, and where Garrett was good, Miles was absolutely astonishing.  Jonah woke up alone (again) and went to check on Cody, who was happily ensconced on his bed with Garrett watching a projection of the latest Space Rangers movie.  Apparently they were fighting giant mutant frogs in a swamp ruled by a wicked sorceress.  Well, someone had to do it.

“Hey, guys.”

“Daddy!”  Cody turned happily and held up his arms.  He’d been a little more clingy since the bug incident, which didn’t bother Jonah at all.  Jonah sat down next to them and pulled Cody into his arms while Garrett turned off the movie.  Cody was warm in his embrace, but when he took Garrett’s hand it was so cold it shocked him.  “You been sittin’ in ice water, darlin’?” Jonah asked, only kind of joking at this point.

“I’m fine,” Garrett said with a smile.  “Maybe it’s lack of sleep.”

“I noticed that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  There was something anxious in Garrett’s demeanor and Jonah wanted to dig deeper, but Cody was demanding his attention. 

“Daddy, I had fish for breakfast.”

“What?”  He stared over at Garrett.  “How’d he get fish?  How’d you get him to eat fish?”

“They were Taiyaki, pancakes cooked in the shape of fish, filled with red bean paste,” Garrett clarified.  “Claudia has a special pan to make them with, they’re a favorite where she’s from.  We colored in the gills and scales with blue whipped cream.”

“Sounds like a pretty good breakfast,” Jonah said as he pictured it.

“The red was like guts,” Cody said gleefully.  “And I pretended to be a shark when I ate it.”

“It was a good but messy breakfast,” Garrett added.  “It required copious use of cleansing facecloths to recover from.”

“Yeah?  Did you pretend to be a shark when you ate yours too?”

“Garrett didn’t have any,” Cody told him.  “He said he wasn’t hungry.”

Jonah looked up at his fiancé.  “Did you already eat?”

“Not long ago.”

“What does that mean?” Jonah asked, but Garrett just shrugged.  “Maybe that’s why you’re so peeked now.  You’ve gotta eat, darlin’.”

“I’m fine.  I’ll eat a big lunch, I promise,” Garrett said with a dismissive wave.  “So, I talked to my dad this morning about the situation.”

Jonah frowned.  “Don’t you think that’s the sort of thing we should have done together?”

“You were sleeping.  You were tired, sweetheart.  I just wanted to get the ball rolling, and my father is the last person who would judge.”  Garrett looked a little worried.  “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Ma—no, I’m not mad,” Jonah said, and he really wasn’t.  It was only, “I just don’t want you to take on too much of the responsibility for this.  It’s something we should deal with as a team.  You said it yourself, this is us, right?  I know I don’t want to do it alone, s’why I told you about this mess.”

“Oh.”  Garrett still looked worried.  Jonah leaned across the bed and pulled him into a kiss.  Garrett’s lips were soft and yielding, and it made Jonah want to take him back to the bed he’d been avoiding, but then Cody made a very pointed “ugh” sound.  They pulled apart and looked down at Cody, who rolled his eyes.

“Can I get up now?” he asked.  “The doctor said I could get up today.  My fever is totally gone.”

“I don’t think that should be a problem,” Jonah said.  Cody crawled out of his lap and bounded toward the door.  Jonah watched him go, then turned back to Garrett.  “So what did your dad say?”

“He’s preparing to offer Drifters an economic incentive to do business legally on Paradise.  He’s got the framework set up already, it’s something he’s been thinking of for some time.  He’s got an appointment to talk to Kilroy Dechiara later today.  He’s also got a family practice lawyer on staff who’s collecting information that can help us once Kilroy and Jack break ways.  Which they will, once my father is through with Kilroy.”

“That’s…wow.”  That was a lot of doing in a few short hours.  Jonah felt kind of superfluous.  “What does he need us to do?”

“Be prepared to talk to Gunny—the gunnery sergeant, Fred Bowman, he’s our lawyer—and prepare yourself to deal with Jack once he gets here.”  Garrett tilted his head.  “Are you worried?  You look worried.”

“About Jack?”  Jonah leaned against the head of the bed and shut his eyes for a moment.  “I always worried about Jack.  That hasn’t changed.  It’s hard because, while he hasn’t been a part of Cody’s life, he has…he’s a part of him, you know?  He’s in Cody’s blood, he’s part of his DNA.  He’s half of my boy.  And I love every part of Cody.”

“You feel guilty.”  Jonah nodded.  Garrett sidled a little closer and leaned his forehead against Jonah’s.  “You have a soft spot for him, and it bothers you.  Of course you have a soft spot, he’s your son’s other biological father.  But that doesn’t mean he has a right, legal or moral, to jam himself into your life now, yours or Cody’s.  And he’s being an absolute bastard about it.”

“True.”  Jonah opened his eyes and looked at Garrett.  Their faces were only a few inches apart, close enough that Jonah could almost count the pale silver flecks in Jonah’s irises.  “I love you, darlin’.  You’re the best man I know.”

Garrett smiled weakly.  “I’m not so great.”

“Of course you are.”

Garrett shook his head, then drew in a deep breath.  “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What?”  Jonah stroked his fingers along the side of Garrett’s face.  Garrett turned his head and kissed the trailing fingertips, but he looked tense.  “What, baby?”  Garrett looked at him in silence for a long moment, then opened his mouth.

“Daddy!  Garrett!”

The stillness of the moment shattered.  They both turned to look at Cody.  “What is it, bucko?”

“Grandpa needs you in his office, he says Mr. Dechiara is coming and he wants you guys to be there for the meeting, and there’s stuff you need to know first.”

“Tell him we’ll be right there, please,” Garrett said, pushing himself into an upright position.  Cody nodded and ran off, and Garrett sighed.  “I guess we’d better get a move on.”

“No, darlin’, tell me what you were gonna say.”  Whatever it was, it was clearly eating at Garrett.  “Just tell me fast, get it out.”

“It’s not the sort of thing that can really be told fast,” Garrett said wryly.  “But don’t worry about it.  I’ll tell you as soon as we can take a break.  I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good.”  He smirked, trying to lighten the mood.  “Sometimes I need a firm hand.”

Jonah nipped at his chin.  “We’ll see later just how firm a hand you can take, baby.”

“Dad!  Garrett!”  Cody was back at the door, but this time he had his hands dramatically clapped over his ears.  “Gross!  Come on!”  He ran away again, and this time his fathers followed.

***

 

 

Mmm, fishy delishy...

Last Day, Plus Extra Me!

Hey darlins!

Today is the last day to bid on a story for the Hurricane Sandy Relief Auction over on Piper Vaughn and MJ O'Shea's Babes In Boyland blog.  There are a lot of fabulous authors participating in this, including several of my personal faves (SL Armstrong and K Piet, Megan Derr, Piper Vaughn) and there's a lot of variety to be had when it comes to the kind of story you'll get from each of us.  Some writers are more open to heavier kinks and BDSM, some are willing to play around in established worlds (myself included--ask for anything tangentially related to something I've already written and I'm game) and most importantly, you're donating to the charity of your choice for an excellent cause.  A lot of people are going with the Red Cross, but feel free to branch out. 

Anyway, you know you all are my sweet baboos, and I don't want someone who really wants this opportunity to be left out just because the price gets a little too steep for them.  With that in mind, if someone who reads my blog decides to make a donation of $25 or more to the cause, I'll write you a story following the same guidelines that are up on the site (see the above link), of between 1-4k words, accepting up to 5 stories, with the offer closed by 7pm CST today (possibly extended over the weekend, we'll see).  If you're interested in doing this, leave a comment on this post and I'll count you in.  I won't start on your story until I get proof of donation, and it may take me a while to get it done given that I'm NaNoing right now (the timeline on the original offer was within 90 days, and I think that's doable).  I will absolutely get yours done, however.  You know I'm good for it:)

Remember, only the first 5 commenters get to request a fic!  Of course, you can always comment just to say hi and that's fine too:)  And if there are fewer than 5, well, less work for me I suppose.  Below is a complete list of the participating authors in the original auction.  There aren't working links (sooo much time to set up, guh) but you can find each one by following the link to Babes In Boyland at the top of the post.


Participating Authors

Piper Vaughn
Xara X. Xanakas
Megan Derr
Zach Sweets
Cari Z
Sasha L Miller
Terry Milien
K-Lee Klein
Julian Griffith
Lor Rose
MJ Willow
Vicktor Alexander
Laylah Hunter
Blaine D. Arden
Evie Kiels
Cherie Noel
Julia Alaric
S.L. Armstrong & K. Piet
Emily Moreton

Paradise Post #13

 

Notes: Okay, time to provide answers, backstory and character development!  Plus I have a better grasp for how things are going to proceed in the future.  Plus I wrote all this in one long shot and it only took me about 2 hours, so let me tell you, people, I am cruising.  I love this story and these characters.  Damn it, how am I supposed to be able to finish it when I just want to write more?

 

Title: Paradise

 

Part Thirteen: Decisions, Decisions

 

 

***

 

So, to be clear, Garrett was an adult.  He was a goddamned adult, he had been making his own decisions for years, and he was perfectly self-sufficient.  He absolutely was.  But when his life got really confusing, when things looked like they were careening straight into the gravity well of a black hole and he didn’t have the energy to escape it, he tended to fall back on the lessons he’d learned in his childhood.  The main one, the one that had stuck with him since he was fourteen, was this: when his back was to the wall, the one person he could always rely on was his father. 

It didn’t matter how messed up Garrett was or what stupid thing he had done, Miles would always help him.  He was an organizer, he was a planner, he thought things through.  Miles could multitask with more efficiency than anyone Garrett had ever known outside of people with specialized implants, and he did it all with the kind of ruthless competency that made him an effective military officer and an invaluable politician to the Federation.  He was calm and collected and good at synthesizing, and that was exactly the kind of perspective that Garrett needed right now.  Garrett was never really calm and collected on his best days, and for some reason his brain had been a little…bouncy lately.  Too much going on to focus, maybe.

It was early, too early for most Paradisians to be up, but that norm didn’t apply to the governor of the planet.  Garrett found his father sitting on the living room couch in the First Family’s wing, documents and graphs pulled up on the table top and some of them projected into the air above it.  He was moving them back and forth, quietly asking the computer for new comparisons and statistics, and Garrett’s heart warmed a little when he saw the antique spectacles perched on the end of his father’s nose.  His eyes were Miles’ one point of personal vanity; he insisted they didn’t require any corrective surgery, even though it would only take a minute, and just put the glasses on “when his eyes were tired” for close-up work.

“Hey,” Garrett called softly as he stepped into the room.  He was carrying two cups of coffee, made in his own apartment because he knew his father wouldn’t want to risk waking his wife and baby with the noise of their own machine.

“Hey, Gare.”  Miles looked over at him and smiled, pulling the glasses off and putting them on the edge of the table.  He scooted over a bit and made room for Garrett, accepting a cup of coffee with a sigh.  “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“You’re up early.”

“Mmm.”  Garrett stalled by taking a sip as he tried to pull his scattered thoughts together.  Coherence.  Coherence was important when you were trying to talk to someone.  “I didn’t sleep, actually.”

“You do look pretty tired.”  Miles’ expression was going from Friend to Concerned Dad, and Garrett didn’t want that, so he plowed ahead.

“I need your help.”  He took a deep breath.  “This has to do with Jonah and Cody and it’s kind of complicated, and before I start I need you to know that Jonah hasn’t done anything wrong or illegal.”

“Sounds serious,” Miles said, his tone mild and soothing.

“It…could be.”  Garrett felt his hands try to tremble, and he tightened his grip on his mug.  “I assume you’ve been getting reports from Corporal Kelly.”

“Yes.”

“So you know, generally, where we’ve been going and what we’ve been doing.”

“I know you met with Drifters at the bazaar.  I know Jonah’s met with them again since, but I don’t know any of the details and I didn’t ask for them.  It’s not my place to pry into your life, son.”

Garrett forced a smile.  God, that topic had been a hell of a fight when he was a teenager.  Garrett had been fresh out of rehab, sent back home and newly confronted with the fact that his father, who had been absent for most of his young life, was not only going to be around, he was going to be involved.  Garrett had accused him of prying, of forcing his presence where it wasn’t wanted, of being too little too late.  His father had taken all that abuse calmly, then told Garrett that while he wasn’t going to pry, he wasn’t going to disappear either.  He was going to be there every hour of every day whether his son liked it or not, and what Garrett got out of it was up to him.

 It had taken a few months before Garrett had come around to the idea that his father actually did care, cared enough to take an indefinite leave of absence from the marines and stay at home with his damaged son and do everything he could to care for him, while still giving him the space to breathe.  They started talking, just a little at first, but by the end of a year Garrett could barely remember a time when his father hadn’t been with him and interested in him.  Miles had gone back to the marines afterward, but things between them had changed for good, and for the better.

“I know that,” Garrett assured him.  “You never pry.  This is something I need your advice on, Dad, because I honestly don’t know what to do and Jonah’s riding the edge of what he can take, especially with Cody in the infirmary now.”

“Go on.”

Garrett marshaled his thoughts, then plunged into the story.  He told Miles about the first meeting with Kilroy in the bazaar, then recounted Jonah’s story of what had passed between him, Kilroy and Jack in the second meet.  He didn’t bother to mention how he had been listening in, because really, that had no real relevance to the situation at this point.  He finished up by revealing Jonah and Cody’s situation with regards to Jack, Drifters and the law, which was just as tangled up as Jonah had promised (Garrett had looked into it before going to his father this morning, and…damn.  The red tape was epic.).

After he finished, they sat in silence for a long moment.  Garrett watched his father closely, and as soon as he drew his index finger down the center of his lips, he knew the man had had an idea.  Garrett had observed him deep in thought for decades, and he knew all of Miles tells.

“It seems that there are two separate problems here,” Miles said at last.  “Kilroy and Jack are only vaguely connected to each other.  Split their issues up and we can take a leg out from under both of their cases.  Each of them is just using the other for leverage, after all.  So we need a different sort of leverage.”  He glanced back at the table and slid his glasses back on, and peered at a few charts.  “Hm.  Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Garrett demanded.

“We’ve had an influx in both capital and local population since the arrival of the Gondola.  It happens every time one of their big ships comes in.  Drifters are a point of interest on a world as isolated as this one is, and since they’re seen as outside the normal Federation infrastructure, people are willing to do business with them who otherwise wouldn’t be interested.  Even knowing that a big percentage of the money changing hands is happening on the black market, it’s still a significant boost to the economy.  More income makes for happier citizens, and that’s the sort of thing I want to encourage coming out of a state of civil war.”

“But you know that a lot of what they’re dealing for is probably equipment that some people plan to use to fight you,” Garrett pointed out with a frown.

“True, but that’s not what the Drifters care about.  They care about making the biggest profit they can in the time they have here.  They steer clear of politics.”  Miles laced his fingers together and stared at the charts.  “What I need to do is figure out how to incentivize them into doing things legally, while still providing people with the opportunity to deal with them with an air of privacy.”

“You’re talking about creating a new layer of society?”

“More like providing the people of Paradise with a choice.  It’ll start out as a fairly stark choice, them or us, but as time goes by those lines will blur.  Here’s the thing, Gare.”  Miles pulled off his glasses and looked over at him.  “There are still people here who hate the Federation, hate us with everything they are.  They don’t care that it was their government that originally petitioned us to come here and take them into the fold, all they see is the loss of their independence.  There are a lot more people who are happy with us, but they’re afraid of rocking the boat because the rebels have proven themselves willing, over and over, to be indifferent to civilian casualties in the course of coming after us. 

“It isn’t the rebels I care about, it’s the people who have to deal with them and are too afraid to come to us for help.  Drifters provide them with a source of goods and information that can be seen as clean, in a sense.  This Kilroy thinks I’m trying to make things harder for him, when in actuality I’d be more than happy to have more Drifters make Paradise a common harbor as long as they’re willing to obey our laws, but they trouble is that they don’t stay long.  The new problem becomes persuading Drifters to do more than a transient business here, which is a challenge because transience is literally a part of their name.”

“So you provide them with, what…legal status?”

“Immigrant status.  Giving them rights as transitory citizens of this planet.  Offering them access to medical clinics, entrance into our education system and the rest of the benefits that come with being licensed and legitimized.  If a particular ship wants to leave for any reason, they can.  If they want to come back, they can.  I’m talking about finding Drifters a place in this society.  I think it’ll do more than enhance the economy, it’ll broaden the horizons of a populace that’s been left behind as the rest of the inhabited universe moves forward.”  He sighed and rubbed his eyes.  “And frankly, I have to do something, because there isn’t a lot of clout in the Senate right now for improving the lives of member planets on the Fringe, but the need is stark.”

“You’ve thought about this before,” Garrett said, putting the pieces together.  His dad was good, but this was a lot to come up with on the fly.  “You’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“Ever since I woke up out of that coma,” Miles confessed.  “Paradise is still sparking with rebellion just under the surface.  I want to tamp that down, and I want to cut down on the percentage of illegal goods making it into circulation.  One of the terms of any agreement with Drifters would be submitting their ship to a search before they can land.  A thorough one, enough to detect skimmers and drugs and most weapons.  It’ll be a delicate balance, but if I can get Kilroy Dechiara on my side and spreading the word to other Drifter ships, it will be a huge coup.”

“You’re kind of smart, you know that?”

Miles smiled.  “I’m surprised you’re not calling it my ‘aged wisdom.’”

“I can’t insult you before I know what you think we can do about Jack.”

Miles shrugged.  “He’s the easy half of this equation.  I’ve got three lawyers in my corps here, and one of them specializes in family law.  Even if Gunny can’t speak to all the issues, he’ll know someone who can.  I’ll send for him as soon as his shift starts, and we’ll figure out what needs to be done to make sure Cody stays with you and Jonah.”

“You’re amazing.”  Garrett finally let himself smile back.  “I’m so impressed you’ve managed to avoid the dementia that plagues most of your generation.”

“And there is it,” Miles said sarcastically.  “I almost didn’t recognize you without the snark, son.”

“I’m a fuckin’ chameleon,” Garrett agreed, feeling pretty perky in the wake of his father’s reassurance.

Miles looked at him a little strangely.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!”  Why did people keep asking him that?  “Just tired from lack of sleep.”

“You aren’t acting tired, you’re acting…” Miles reached out and laid a hand on Garrett’s cheek, and frowned when Garrett jerked away.  “Have you been checking your levels?”

Levels?  Levels, levels…what, hormone levels?  His drug levels?  His mood stabilizers?  “Of course.”  Of course he was.  He had used the med gauntlet, what, last week? Or maybe the week before? That was plenty recent.  Somehow Garrett didn’t think that his father would see it that way though, since technically he was supposed to be using it every day when he traveled due to the additional stresses on his system.  But he wasn’t some delicate little child any longer, and he was doing fine.  Wasn’t he doing fine?  He had known enough to bring his problems to Miles, that wasn’t the mark of an off-balanced person.  “I might have forgotten yesterday,” he added, seeing that his dad wasn’t buying it.  The frown line stayed, but Miles looked a little more relaxed.

“You should go and take care of that, Gare.  It’s important to stay up to date.”

“I know,” he said, and tried not to fidget as Miles kept staring at him.  He opened his mouth, probably in preparation for inserting his foot, but a high, thin cry interrupted the moment.  Miles pushed off the couch and disappeared into the master bedroom, and Garrett took a second to school his expression back into imperturbability.  When Miles came back with a fussy Renee in his arms, Garrett stood up.

“I should go.  I’ll talk to Robbie and bring him in after we see Cody.  He’ll be a good resource for you when it comes to dealing with Drifters.”

“Go and get yourself checked out first.”

Garrett rolled his eyes.  “Yes sir.”  He put their empty coffee cups in the kitchen and watched his father cradle his sister, rocking her gently in his arms and not minding when her chubby fists smacked his chest or chin.  “Can I get you something for her?”

“There’s a bottle of juice for her in the preservator.”

Garrett opened it up and saw the bright purple bottle.  “Oh god, Claudia has her drinking bissap already?”

“Apparently it’s the first thing they wean babies with on Kalmia.  It’s full of essential nutrients, or something like that.”  Miles took the bottle that Garrett passed him and offered it to Renee, who latched onto it and started drinking voraciously.  Miles smiled down at his baby and Garrett felt a pang of…not jealousy…maybe nostalgia?  Could he be nostalgic for something that had never happened?  He knew enough about his own childhood to know that Miles had been deployed when he’d been born and hadn’t actually seen him until he was six months old, and his mother had been way too much of a diva to bother with feeding her own child.  Anyone who had cared for Garrett as a baby had been an employee.

Garrett came over and kissed his little sister’s fluffy black head, then squeezed his father’s shoulder.  “I’ll be back soon.”

“Sounds good.”  He left the two of them bonding over juice and headed for the infirmary.

Garrett bypassed the nurse at the front desk by telling her he was just going in to check on Cody, but stopped one room short and ducked into the automated medical suite.  There was a med gauntlet there that had his specs loaded into it, and after turning it on, he gingerly placed his hand inside.  There was a tiny prick, and then…

“Doctor Caractacus,” the holographic doctor began seriously as he appeared.  Garrett immediately turned the volume down to low.  “Your blood work shows pronounced signs of hormonal instability.  I recommend a full dose of your normal medications as well as a time-release dose over a period of two to four days.  I recommend that you place yourself in stasis for the duration of the transition.”

The program wanted him to sleep for four days?  Hell with that, Garrett didn’t have time.  “Can you give me a stabilizing dose now in order to delay the need for stasis?”

“A stabilizing dose would still merit stasis at this point,” the doctor said, sounding rather chiding.  “You’ve gone too long without any medication whatsoever.”

“Then I refuse treatment for now.”

The doctor looked unhappy.  “Sir—”

“As soon as my current affairs are put in order, I’ll submit to treatment.”  And oh, wouldn’t knocking himself unconscious for a while irritate Claudia, with him not able to help plan his own wedding.  “No more than a day or two.”

“Sir, the longer you wait, the more imbalanced your mental state will become.  The need for stasis will only become more vital with every passing hour.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.  Seal this record unless specifically asked by my medical proxy.”

“Yes sir,” the doctor said unhappily.  Garrett shut the program off and withdrew his hand.

Well, shit.  How could he have forgotten for so long?  He needed the meds, Garrett knew he needed them, but really he was handling things fine so far.  He could handle them a little longer, long enough to take care of the Jack situation and not leave Jonah alone to deal with it.  Then he’d be able to afford going into stasis until his blood work was back to normal.

Garrett left the automed suite and went on to Cody’s room.  The boy had kicked his blanket onto the floor and was now curled up in a ball at the very bottom of the bed.  Garrett bent down and grabbed the blanket, then slid his arms under Cody and shifted him up the bed until his head was back on his pillow.  Cody stirred as Garrett was tucking the blanket in around him.

“Garrett?”

“Yes?”

“M’too hot,” he said with a sniffle.

“I’m sorry, buddy.  You’ll feel better soon.”

Cody reached up and patted his face in a strange echo of Miles.  “You feel good.”

How nice that cold and clammy translated as “good” to Cody.  “Do you want me to stay with you for a while?”

“Yeah.”

“All right.”  Garrett got into the same position he’d had yesterday afternoon, with Cody’s head on his lap, and ran his chilly hands through Cody’s hair and across the back of his neck.  Garrett was wired, he wasn’t going to sleep, but at least he could do something for Cody for a little while.  Before he went and got Jonah, before they talked to Miles again, before they met with a lawyer, before they had to deal with Jack…this was definitely going to be the least complicated part of Garrett’s day.

He shut his eyes and tried to enjoy it.

Lazy Sunday Post + snippet

Yep, it's all just unicorns and rainbows...

I freaking love days like this.  Today has been one of those "nothing urgent needs to be done" days, and so I've gotten to spend most of it writing, which is just...*sigh.*  Days like this are going to be few are far between now that we're all careening towards the holidays, so I'm trying to treasure it.  I've got my siblings, one sister in law, one baby, and two inlaws coming for Thanksgiving, and I've got a house that still needs prepping before any of them would find it liveable.  So yay.  Chores.

Hmm, a few updates.  Firstly, I'm absolutely killing it on my NaNo so far, but then the story is pretty damn easy to write at this point (lots of gunfire and explosions, which, c'mon, yeah) and I'm still going to have time for new Paradise by Tuesday/Wednesday.  I'm still working through which POV to use for it, but I'll get there.  It's a very confusing time in the story.  I know what I want to happen, but the order of events is throwing a hissy fit in my brain.  Arg.

Secondly, huge thanks to the people who have come by Babes in Boyland and bid for the stories being auctioned for Hurricane Sandy relief donations.  My own story's high bid is $100 at last check (and what did I do to deserve that?  God, people are awesome!) but there are other stories you can bid on if you still want to get something unique out of donating to a good cause.  You can find the list here: Story Auction.

Finally, it's time for the Goodreads M/M group choice awards.  I didn't participate in this last year because it took a loving kick in the pants from my readerwife to get me into the group, but I"m looking it over and, wow, there are a lot of categories.  If anyone feels moved enough to nominate one of my books/characters, I'd be thrilled (there's a sci fi category!).  Self-promotion is very far from my strong suit, but hell with it, I'm putting it out there.  Info and rules are here: goodreads m/m awards.

Okay, done!  Want a mini-excerpt from my NaNo story?  Completely unbeta'd and fresh and likely to change before publication?  Have a snippet, darlins.



***

There’s a succubus in a circle in the middle of the floor, possessing a beautiful body, a girl with long blue-black hair and perfect caramel skin.  She’s wildly contorted, her head spun so far around that Rio knows her host body is dead.  She sees him, her irises solid green and iridescent like a beetle’s wing, and shrieks.  The dozens of men surrounding her, men so caught up in her distorted, wanton pain that they hadn’t heard the gunshots, blink hazy eyes and look up.  They see Rio, they watch him shoot a guard coming up on his right, and then they begin to panic.

Rio lobs a stinger into the middle of the room.  To his surprise, the succubus manages to catch it, turn and throw it towards a shadowy corner partially shielded by a painted room divider just before it goes off.  There’s a bang, a scream, and suddenly the succubus is free.  And boy, is she angry.

NaNaWriMo and Auctioning a Fic

Hey darlins!

So, it's November, which means NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).  The idea is to write 50k words over the course of the month, about 1,667 words a day.  I'm going to spend my words working on a few things.  Naturally I'll keep up with Paradise, because that just has to happen, but I'm also writing the first three or so episodes in a six-part serial story that's going to be released by Storm Moon Press in the new year, one episode a month.  The story is titled Cambion, and takes place in the same world that I briefly introduced with In All Your Ways, a free story that you can download here.  This time the main character will be, you guessed it, a cambion, the offspring of a human and a demon.  I'm going for a thriller feel with this, lots of intrigue (which god knows I love) and alliances and weaponry and secrets and mysterious powers. It's going to be awesome.  I'll be posting more about it as I learn more/write more myself, but the same girl who did my cover for Changing Worlds?  Is doing my cover for this book.  Should be great.

Also, I'm one of a group of authors who's going to be auctioning off a story for Hurricane Sandy relief on the blog Babes in Boyland, which is run by Piper Vaughn and MJ O'Shea.  The winning bidder for my story will be able to give guidance on theme, setting, genre, pairing...oh, pretty much everything.  I'll even write backstory for something I have going now, or follow up with characters from a story you'd like to learn more about.  Want to know what happened to Cris after Anna took off?  I can do that.  Questions about Isidore?  A vignette for Danny and Reese?  More Garrett, more Wyl, more Tom and Christopher?  All of this is possible, as well as doing something completely new for you.

The auction goes live tomorrow on Piper's blog at 7am.  Help me make a contribution to a worthy cause.  Or, heck!  There are plenty of other great authors participating as well!  Bid on someone else's story.  Partial list: Piper Vaughn, Megan Derr, Viktor Alexander, SL Armstrong and K Piet, Blaine Arden, Xara X Xanakas, Cherie Noel...there are a lot of us to choose from.  You can find more information here: Babes in Boyland.  Remember, the auction doesn't start until Friday morning.  I don't know when it ends either, but the info will probably be up tomorrow.  Thank you so much, and good luck!