What You See, Isn't What You Get

By:  M. J. Cogburn and C. E. Krawiec

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PART ONE

Last time on Quantum Retribution:

"Deception is one of the primary methods of achieving success in a leap," Thames stated, his tone and attitude becoming more business-like with each word.  "The first challenge is this.  Each of you will be leaped into someone within this complex who is not a part of the leaper community.  Once you have replaced that person in their life, you will be informed, by Lothos, of something in their life that you are to alter by deceiving those around them in order to destroy that person’s credibility utterly.  The more despicable or devious the deception, the greater the personal loss you cause them, the better you will score.  Lothos will determine when...or if... you achieve the challenge.  When he returns you to the acceleration chamber, the challenge is complete and you will return here immediately.  Do you understand the first challenge?"

... Johanna, nodded once.  "Yes, sir," she responded promptly then waited for her competitor to give his response.

... "Yes, sir!" Vaughn’s tone had an enthusiastic crispness to it as he likewise responded to Thames' explanation of the first challenge.

.... Signaling them to leave, as they walked away Thames called out one final order. "You will speak to no one along the way.  Not a single word to anyone.  If you do, you lose this challenge."  It was instantly clear that both leapers had taken the order literally; neither responded in any way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The moment Johanna left the lecture hall; it was like walking through the Red Sea to get to Acceleration Chamber Number One.  It didn't matter how many people came up to her and said, 'Hi, how you doing?' or called out to her, she didn't even look at them, just kept moving, forcing her way through the crowd.  Tomorrow... after the challenge... she could go back and talk to them.  Right now, the only thing that mattered was that she on Lothos' time for the purpose of moving up into a position that every leaper with even an inkling of ambition would give or do anything to attain. And Johanna had no intention of doing the slightest thing to have this chance taken away from her. Hurting the feelings of a few people didn’t even rate a second thought at the moment.

Getting into the elevator with Vaughn, who had kept pace with her as they walked, Johanna reached over and punched the thirteenth button and stood back once more.  For a long moment, they didn't even look at each other but she felt his eyes on her and she turned her head slightly to see him looking at her.  Looking into his eyes, she couldn't see anything, and thankfully, was able to keep any emotion from her own face as well.  Turning back to face the doors when they slid open, she saw the small motion of his hand and nodded slightly before going out of the elevator.

Marching down the long corridor, she found the room marked Accelerator Chamber One then paused, turning to watch Vaughn going down two more doors.  The dark-haired young woman waited patiently for him to reach Accelerator Chamber Three then dismissed him from her mind and entered the room. Fair enough... from this point on, anything went.

Approaching the technician on duty, Johanna wondered briefly whom it was she was to be leaped into and whom she was going to have to deceive.  Following the tech’s orders to take her place on the circular pad in the center of the Accelerator Chamber then assuming the proper stance, she knew it wouldn't be too long before she knew for sure.

One truth that all who lived in this complex learned and learned quickly, whether brought in from the outside or born here, was that they belonged to Lothos.  Whether voluntarily or otherwise, the instant they stepped foot onto the island they became his property, his to do with as he saw fit, whenever he wanted to do it, regardless of how it affected their personal lives.  Never once, not for so much as a moment, had the vaguest compunction or qualm bothered the quasi-living hybrid super computer about using any ‘item’ of his human property as guinea pigs.  Any pain they suffered meant nothing to Lothos.  His people – his property – lived, or rather, were permitted to live to serve him.  If that meant they suffered, so be it.  If they died or were killed, so be it.

Now Lothos watched the two competitors make their way from the lecture hall, leaving in their wakes any number of confused and not a few angry people, as they focused solely on reaching the thirteenth level where not only the Accelerator Chambers were located but also Central Control.   He observed Leaper Royden extend the courtesy of waiting for her competitor to reach his appointed location before entering Accelerator Chamber Number One.  He observed closely as, once in the chamber, she approached the master technician who instructed her about taking her place on the pad in the center of the Acceleration Chamber.  Like all leapers at her level, it was a familiar routine, and Lothos noted her relaxed attitude, how she remained intently focused and acutely aware of all around her at the same time.  When the leaper became still, only then did he speak to her through the implants in her ears.

"You will not have an observer," he informed her.  "I will observe and determine when you have completed this challenge."  She nodded and Lothos continued.  "You will be leaped into one of the senior high school instructors.   Your challenge is to ruin the educational reputation of the top honors student in the present graduating class."  Lothos focused closely on Leaper Royden's face but saw nothing that resembled an emotional expression. "You have four hours.  When that time is up, whether you have achieved your goal or not, you will be retrieved. If you achieve your goal in less than the allotted time, you will be retrieved earlier.”  That said, he gave the master technician the signal to put the leap into effect. 

In less time than it had taken for Lothos to make his comments to her, Johanna Royden vanished from the chamber.  In her place stood a perplexed woman in her mid-thirties.  The master technician entered and escorted her into a small holding chamber situated next to the chamber.  He didn’t respond in any way to the woman's questions, nor did he look at her as he exited the room and locked the door.  Lothos easily witnessed every aspect of the technician’s actions as well as any and all of the myriad other functions he carried out in the operation of his complex, not even for a nanosecond breaking his concentration as he focused intently on watching Johanna Royden begin her first challenge.

Johanna leaned her head back as the energy swarmed around her, the noise in the chamber becoming almost deafening.  Then suddenly, it was all black around her... then light.  When the sensation of movement of energy over and through her body had ceased, she blinked a couple of times to focus her eyes and looked around to see that she was standing in a room with students looking up at her.  Swallowing slowly, she looked at them then glanced down at her hands where they were resting on a podium.  Notes were in front of her.  "Excuse me... what was I saying?  I got off track."

No one said a word, not a hand was raised.  Moving around the podium, she left the notes where they were on the podium and walked in a line before the group.  Making sure that she was the one in charge before she began spouting off their disrespect, she found that to be the case.

"You mean to tell me, that no one was paying attention to what I was saying?  Is that it?”

Looking out over the students, she observed one young man who had been avidly scribbling something since she had opened her eyes and realized where she was.  Moving toward him, Johanna snatched up the paper and look down at it and read, "Paul Revere was one of the famous Americans... but the cutest is up at the board telling us about American History, something that we don't need to know about.”  Shaking her head slightly, Johanna looked at the name that was also in the upper right-hand corner of the paper.

"Tell me, Mr. Andrews, do you always write about your Advanced American History instructor instead of notes about the famous people in history?  Why do you think that we study it, hmmm?  To learn from it.  And judging by this, it's obvious to me that you don't want to learn...so get out."  When he didn't move, Johanna took a step closer to where he sat, and said in a louder and very distinctly displeased tone of voice, "I said, get out of this classroom, Mr. Andrews!"

To Benjamin Andrews’ way of thinking, Advanced American History wasn’t really a class that he needed.  The only reason he had taken the class was that the credits for this class would give him the final four credits that he needed for graduation.   Another reason he had taken the course was that he hoped Lothos would okay his request to attend an American university instead of one in Europe.  But when it came right down to it, Benjamin didn’t really care which university he attended; all that mattered was that he got off the island that had been his home, his entire immediate day in, day out world since his birth.  There was a world bigger than Lothos beyond the horizon and he wanted to be a part of it.  That was the world he longed to be a part of, to live in.  So from the moment he realized that his best bet to get off the island would be in the form of traveling to go to a university, he had thrown himself into his studies.  Lothos’ requirements to warrant an off-island higher education were stiff and extremely exacting, and it had been a struggle in some areas, but Benjamin had persevered and now was just four credits and one semester away from graduation and as soon as possible thereafter, freedom from the island.  But at the moment with Mrs. Summerlin standing before him like a tall, skinny, vindictive stork, Ben hadn’t expected to get caught with his pants down, so to speak.  The one time he had decided to goof off during class like some of the other guys in his class, and he had been caught.  The memory of his father beating the daylights out of him the first time he’d been caught passing a note in his freshman year of high school had cured him of that. At least, he thought it had.  But now this...this didn’t seem…no, correction, this wasn't fair.  For cryin’ out loud, what bit her bony butt?

Ben reared back and asked, "What for?" just managing to keep his tone civil, even though she had just read his doodling out loud.  But all that the teacher most students privately referred to as ‘Stork’ did, was to yell even louder at him to, "Get out!" 

"No!" Benjamin responded, sitting up ramrod straight in his seat and staring defiantly up into her eyes.  It was the wrong thing to say.  He had expected her to send him, or at the worst, to march him personally to the principal's office. But as the situation avalanched down on him, the stunned senior wished it had been so simple.  What she was doing and saying in front of the entire class.... it was a joke…right?  Never one much for prayer, the ordinary-appearance young man was making up for lost time:  God, please…she has to be joking!  She just has to be!

        Johanna, however was, unfortunately for the young man, in deadly earnest, and so when he demanded, "What for?" she repeated her order to him.  "Get out!"  The boy’s stubborn, "No!", unbeknownst to him, played perfectly in her reason for being where she was.  Knowing all that, she didn’t reply further to him, merely turned and stalked up to the desk at the front of the room.

Seeing the teachers name labeled nicely on the desk, "Ms. Summerlin", Johanna remembered the teacher.  Remembered having her for this same class.  Recalled distinctly how if you got on her bad side she was a bitch and wouldn't get off your case for it.  Perfect.  Johanna also remembered that Mrs. Summerlin ---“Stork”--- was also one of only three high school instructors who always created his or her own final exams.  And now, having been one of  “Stork’s” best students was about to pay off in more than the A+ she, herself, had received in this class.  Johanna knew exactly where to look for the final exams.

"If that's how you want it to be, Mr. Andrews... that's fine,” Johanna said frostily, pausing as she stood at the desk to glare across the room at the young man.  “Don't leave.  Take a competency test over the whole course and if you pass it... whoop-de-do.  If you don't... you fail and fail miserably."

She looked slowly around the room, making eye contact with each student, most now rigidly still under her scrutiny, before she leaned down to open a drawer then pull out a folder marked ‘Final Exam’, and took out the top one.  If this was the top student in this class... he would fail.  The school year was just beginning; there was no way on earth that the boy could pass the test.  As she returned the file to the drawer, Johanna also recalled how notorious Mrs. Summerlin had been for taking small, sometimes, almost silly things and making them huge things that you had to remember.  A good example was: Paul Revere rode on what kind of horse?  Who freaking cared what kind of horse Paul Revere rode…or that he rode one at all?!  Looking across the room at the young man staring at her like she was nuts, just continued to smooth the way for Johanna.

"What?  Do you think I look like I'm joking, Mr. Andrews?"  For a nanosecond, Johanna most basic sense of decency began to squirm within her.  Ruthlessly she squashed it, dismissing it without another qualm, focusing on the student before her as he began to sputter at her.  Calmly she indicated the test paper she held then laid it on the small table close to her desk. As she did so, her gaze brushed over the key to the test which was quite visible on the edge of her desk, near where he was going to sit.

"Come here, Mr. Andrews.  You think you're so hot to trot and don't want to leave?  Then take the test.  Pass the class, get the credit and leave.  The rest of you, open your books to the chapter and begin reading."  Johanna lowered her voice, glaring out at all of them.  "No talking."

The words popped out of his mouth before Ben realized what he was saying.  "You're joking!"  But the teacher’s nasty snap of, "Do you think I'm joking?" spelled it out quite plainly that she wasn’t.   He just sat and watched her go back to her desk then take something out of one of her desk drawers; it looked like some sort of test form.  But things took another turn, this time from bad to worse when he heard her ordering him to go to the front of the class, take the test –and pass it – then get out.

"But...this is the first class of the year!" the senior with the highest grade-level in his class protested, feeling not only wronged by the woman’s attitude but not a little nervous as well.  Any sort of 'problem' on his record at this point was going screw his chance for an outside university education into the ground.  "You're nuts!"

Ben’s forthright and blunt opinion, however, only earned him the sight of Ms. Summerlin’s countenance darkening barely controlled anger as she stomped back to grab him and then being darn near dragged to the front of the room and being shoved into the seat at the smaller desk beside hers.  He dropped a glance at the test before him then up at her.  The sight of her cold gaze fixed on him prompted him to think, ‘Who says frost can't exist this deep underground?’  That thought was followed instantly with another more blunt in substance:  ‘I’m screwed.’  For a moment he didn’t move as he watched and listened to the teacher snapping at the rest of class, noticing how each one immediately opened the Advanced American History textbook before them and crawling as far inside them as they possibly could.  But Ben had something more important to worry about than watching his classmates doing their level best to get out of and stay out of the crosshairs of the ‘Stork’s’ anger, and his gaze dropped once more to the test folder laying before him.  All he could do was stare at the test that wasn’t just two pages but six pages, front and back.  The sound of firm footsteps snagged his attention, and he lifted his hed to watch Mrs. Summerlin –at the moment not noticing her ‘oh yeah’ figure like he usually did-- as she returned to her desk and plopped down in her chair.  He didn’t miss the fact that she was ignoring him as she picked up a pen and start grading papers.

        At that moment, Ben was certain that it was so intensely quiet in the classroom, that if he tried really hard he could have heard an imp giggle in Hell.  The quiet and the tension badly disguised beneath it said there was nothing else to do but what he could, given the fact that he hadn’t even cracked the brand new textbook the first time. So, taking a deep, slow breath and letting it out softly, he picked up the pencil and wrote his name at the top of the paper, then opened the test folder to the first page and read silently the first question.

*What kind of horse did Paul Revere ride?*

‘Who friggin' cares what kinda horse he rode?!’ Ben shouted frustratedly in his mind.  Shaking his head, he dropped his chin, glancing at the floor, avoiding at least for a minute, the unassuming looking gray exam folder laying open before him on the desk at which he sat.  As he did so, something on the floor caught his attention. Having taken countless tests in his scholastic life to this point, he knew better than to be obvious in his curiosity, and so turned his head the slightest bit to try to get a better look at it, then…

‘There is a God!’ the silent exultation flooded his mind as he allowed his gaze to again stray surreptitiously to the answer to his problem.  The ‘answer’ was a scantron laying near his right foot and positioned in such a way as to make it fairly easy to read.  Instantly hope scrabbled for a purchase inside him, and Ben prayed – hard.  He hoped against hope that what he was reading was right, namely that the sheet of paper by his foot was the key for the answers to this exam that he shouldn’t have had to worry about until the final weeks of the school year some eight months away.

As far as Phillip Andrew’s middle son was concerned, the following hour was the most nerve-wracking hour of his entire life as he strove not to get caught literally cheating on a test while sitting less than three feet to the left of the teacher.  Never in all of his almost eighteen years had Ben more relieved to hear the bell ring, signaling the end of the class, grateful beyond words that his hour in Hell had ended.  He had finished the test ten minutes ago and signed his name at the bottom of the last page; all that was left to do was hand in the completed exam.  Completely unprepared for it, it had been brutal, but he had made sure to answer enough questions to get the credit that he needed to graduate and ensure that there wouldn’t be any snags in being granted an off-island university education.

Standing up with the other students, he placed the test on the corner of Ms. Summerlin’s desk and started to leave.  But he didn’t get as far as turning to step away from the desk before the teacher turned loose on him.

For the remainder of the hour, Johanna could see Benjamin Andrews out of the corner of her eye, copying from the scantron that dropped on the floor.  It was really quite interesting to see how he did it as well.  Just to keep him on a razor’s edge, she occasionally got up and walked around the room, making sure that the other children were working, then walked right by him.  Once she paused to watch as he darkened a circle on his own scantron.  She kept her expression closed and severe when the young man had paused to look up at her.  Drawing her eyebrows down in a disapproving frown at him was enough to immediately refocus his attention on the exam.  And as she seated herself at the teacher’s desk again, she considered again the secret that she knew without a doubt he wasn’t going to like.  Now, having seen the relief flood his expression as he handed in the exam and started for the door, Johanna knew it was time for Benjamin Andrews to learn what the secret was.

"Mr. Andrews!” Johanna said, a sharp edge to her tone as she rose to her feet and turned to take a few steps after him.  “Where do you think you're headed?"

"Well, ma'am, class ended and it's time to leave," Ben kept his response respectful as he stopped and turned back to face his teacher.  His hope that his answer would be enough vanished at her response.

"Ohhh no... not for you, Benjamin,” Johanna stated flatly.  “I'm going to grade this right here... right now.  Let me get the scantron to grade it now."  There was no way she could miss the way he perked up at her statement.  Turning around she walked back over to her desk and made a show of looking over the items on top of it.  Not seeing what she knew wasn’t there, she next looked down at the floor and ostensibly noticed for the first time the scantron exactly where she had seen it just moments before going to confront this young man at the start of the class.

 "What the..." she murmured, a note of puzzlement in her voice as she bent down to pick up the scantron then skimmed over it, finally shaking her head lightly. "Oh, okay.  This is for the midterm.”  She paused a second then added, “For a moment there, I thought you had cheated," as she opened the drawer to put that scantron away and then pull out the correct one to grade Benjamin’s final exam in Advanced American History. With perfected studied casualness, Johanna glanced up at the senior, gratified to see that his relief was gone and his face was now white as snow. 

Taking a seat at the table where Ben had taken the exam, Johanna placed the answer key scantron to his test on the table then began marking x after x on the scantron with his name on it.  Barely five minutes later she put down the red grading pencil.  Turning back to him, she picked up his scantron and showed him how fatally his test was bleeding; he had missed all but two questions.

The leaper kept her tone sharp and cold as she informed him, "You failed, Mr. Andrews, and quite miserably, too, I would add.  Not only in my class but in your respect for a teacher. You did not pay attention in class... you wrote snide remarks on your notes, and then were rude and insubordinate then ... wait a minute....” she paused then turned back to her desk and pulled out the mid term scantron and looked at it.  Laying the two tests together, she saw the markings, noticing how they were almost exactly alike.  "... then,” she said, allowing her tone to sharpen even more as she picked up the mid-term exam answer scantron and shoved it in his face, accusing, “…you cheated on a test thinking that this was the answer key for the final exam!"

Benjamin Andrews felt as if someone had just punched him in his solar

plexus, as he stared stupefied at his teacher.  His face was white as snow and his mouth gaped, opening then closing like a fish out of water.  "But..."

"No buts, Mr. Andrews,” Johanna continued her relentless verbal slashing of the young man before her.  “You were disrespectful, insubordinate AND THEN you cheated to get your credits for a class!  You are not worthy of going to a college of any stature.  I think that you are more ready to go to the technical academy here in the complex to train for perhaps a janitorial position here.  At least, there, they can teach you respect, subordination and truthfulness!"

It was a cruel thing to do to a young man preparing to step out into life and make of it what he could. But in the same regard, Johanna reminded herself, distancing herself from her own core convictions that she kept housed way down deep inside, that Ben had brought this upon himself.  All she had done was to help him along toward facing it... and it was what Lothos wanted. Right?  At this moment in Benjamin Andrews’ life, that was all that mattered to Johanna as she shoved the ‘bloody’ exam into the boy’s hand.  “You have failed and failed miserably, Mr. Andrews,” she snapped.  “Now take your failure and get out of this classroom and don’t come back.  You’ve completed this course as far as I am concerned.”

While Johanna rationalized what she had just done and then swept aside any twinges her own conscience was attempting to inflict on her, determined not to allow anything to keep her from her goal, Ben Andrews seemed to have been turned to stone.  It was every bad dream, every embarrassing thing that ever happened to him all rolled into one then multiplied a million times.  And to add to his humiliation, Ms. Summerlin hadn’t allowed the rest of the class leave either.  She had made them sit down again and wait while she graded the exam and then lowered the boom on him.  Ben felt his mouth working, trying to get words...something… out of his mouth.  But he couldn't.  But she hadn’t stopped there.  No, she plainly wasn’t satisfied until she had not just embarrassed and flunked him for the entire year in the space of the first class of the year.  No, she went beyond that, the thought struggled through the numbness in Ben’s mind, Ms. Anne Summerlin, teacher of Advanced American History, had taken great pleasure in destroying his dream.  It was all Ben could to do force himself to stand before her and his classmates as the teacher finally finished with him by thrusting his 'bleeding' exam into his hand.  And when he didn’t move fast enough to suit her, the visibly angry woman grabbed him by the arm and hauled and dragged him to the door, shoving him into the hall so forcefully that he stumbled and fell, his books and notebooks scattering.

"Please…” Ben finally found his voice, pleading with her.  "I need this class... for university...” But all that resulted in was Ms. Summerlin yelling at the rest of the class to get out then and then slamming the door behind the last one.  Worse still was the fact that not even one of his classmates or friends spoke to him, instead stepping around him like he was a rotting carcass.

‘God this is going to kill mom,’ he thought, not bothering to look up as the others disappeared down the hall, leaving him alone. Neither did he want to think about what his father was going to do to when he learned what had just happened.  He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at the classroom door, praying that Ms. Summerlin would come out and maybe… just maybe give him another chance to try again to convince her.  But when the door of the classroom for Advanced American History finally opened, Ben realized too late that it would have been far better if he had just gotten up and gone to his next class and then, ultimately, home to get the beating that there was no doubt he was going to get.  For sure, it would have hurt a whole lot less.

Johanna sat in the room after the kids had left, waiting for the next class to come but when one didn't, she grabbed the notes and looked down at them and read about Paul Revere and his horse.  A stallion.  Huh... like she cared.  She laughed softly then started toward the door once she finished the notes and opened it to see Benjamin Andrews sitting on the floor looking absolutely pathetic.

"Skipping class now, too, huh?  We sure are being Mr. Scholastic, today, aren't we?” she mocked him.  The pleading expression on his face just made it that much easier to add to his misery… and hopefully even more so to the points she earned for this first part of the competition.

Turning, she re-entered the classroom, calling back over her shoulder, “Let me go get one of those referrals and list down all the errors that your parents, the principal and Lothos will want on file."  Reaching the desk, she found the stack of referral slips kept on all teachers’ desks for just such a purpose.  Taking one, Johanna sat down at the desk, picked up a pen and began to write.

"Let's see here... name:  Benjamin Andrews.  Grade: 12th.  Problems:  Insubordination, Disrespectfulness, Cheating on test, and now, truancy."  Turning back to peer out into the hall where Ben still sat, she asked, "Did I miss anything?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" Ben managed to get the question out of his dry mouth, not making a move to get up from the floor.  The only response he got from the teacher was the coldest stare he had ever encountered.  It was the stare that put the finish to the last bit of fast fraying hope that he’d clung to that all of this had been some colossal and cruel joke.  The truth was as cold as Anne Summerlin’s gray-green eyes.

Getting to his feet, Benjamin gathered his books and notebooks and turned to leave.  His surprise… no, rather his total and absolute shock knew no bounds when he felt a hand on his shoulder; but that wasn’t the worst of it.  That came when he turned around to find Mrs. Summerlin standing behind him. 

At almost eighteen, Ben knew what that coy look in her eyes meant.  He had caught similar expressions passing between his mom and dad in the family quarters.  He’d had his first experience of such a look directed at him one Saturday night when he was sixteen in one of the topside gardens with Susan Delvechhio.  But seeing the look on his parents’ faces was one thing; seeing it now on ‘Stork’ Summerlin’s face as she stood from her desk and began walking toward him made his stomach turn and caused every instinct in him to shriek….RUN!

"Get away from me!" he yelled at her, scrabbling to get on his feet and grabbing at his things before fleeing down the hall like the devil was on his back.  Benjamin’s reaction, though, might have been quite different had he been able to read his ‘teacher’s’ thoughts.

Hearing his question of why she was doing this to him, Johanna answered in her mind, 'Because I was told to do it.’  But the damn guilty conscious in her pushed her to go the stunned young man, to reach out and touch his shoulder in a, far too late, gesture of …what...apology?  The response she got instead was him yelling out, "Get away from me!" then slapping her hand away.  She stood in the hall watching him flee from then returned into the classroom and closed the door. Next she pulled her hair back away from her face then used her right hand to slap at her face as hard she could, the stinging slap bringing tears to her eyes.  Wincing as she gingerly touched her cheek with her left hand, Johanna left the classroom again and walked down to the office where the principals for the school were.

The moment both the principal and vice-principal saw her, she allowed them to coax her into a chair and ask what happened. Johanna played it to the hilt, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue someone pressed into her hand, sniffling as she talked, even sipping at the glass of water one of the secretary brought her as she told them in just enough detail about how disrespectful Benjamin was, how rude, and insubordinate he was.  She explained about the test and how he had cheated on it and then, when she had gone to talk to him after class, that he had slapped her and ran off down the hall.  She added as a seeming afterthought, that if it weren't for kids like that... pressured to do so well in class, that they would do much better.  Johanna knew they believed her when she was told to go home and rest for the remainder of the day.  Nodding her head and with fake tears brimming, she walked out of the office.

By the time he arrived at his family’s quarters, Ben really wasn’t surprised to discover that his parents already knew what had happened, having received an unexpected visit from the principal and vice-principal of the complex’s high school. Lothos had recorded every second of the beating that Phillip Andrews gave his son before grounding Ben for the rest of the school year.  And, as he watched the hurting young man when he was at last allowed to go to his room, Lothos sensed the subtle change in history that was the end result of Johanna Royden’s first test.

Everything Johanna Royden had done had been recorded, the visual/audio record added to her Leaper Record.  To his thinking, the touch that Lothos liked best was when she had slapped herself and then did an excellent job of convincing the school principal that Benjamin Andrews had assaulted her on top of all his other 'sins'.  So it was that when she at last was solicitously given the remainder of the day off to go home and rest, he waited only until she stepped outside the principal's office door and closed it.

"The challenge is completed," he said to her through her implants, retrieving her in the same instant.  Once she regained her balance, still not uttering a word to anyone, Lothos watched the determined Leaper march out of Acceleration Chamber Number One and start toward the lecture hall.  

PART TWO

Exiting the lecture hall, Vaughn had marched right behind Johanna.  He noticed that she at least gave people the benefit of a look but never speaking to them.  They didn't get even that from him.  He didn't knock anybody over; came close.  Nothing anyone said to him, not even a syllable did he permit to get through.  He didn’t even acknowledge their presence around him.  His focus was solely on his objective, and the first key word toward that goal was ‘deception’.

Arriving on Level Thirteen where the Acceleration Chambers were located, he had stayed on Johanna Royden's heels then passed her to go to Chamber Number Three.  She had glanced his way, nodding at him.  Returning the acknowledgement in kind, the tall, muscular Leaper forgot about her and entered the chamber.  Vaughn obeyed the signal of the technician on duty to step into the chamber and prepare, wasting no time with questions or comments.

Stepping onto the pad in the center of the chamber as the door is sealed, he assumed the proper posture then took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

"Countdown beginning," the technician's voice echoed quietly in the chamber.  "Ignition in ten... nine.... eight.... seven... six... five... four... three... two...one...."

Most leapers Vaughn Rickar had talked with prior to and after becoming a leaper himself, always said the same thing; that the first seconds of a leap can feel ...weird.  One leaper had told him that it was like he could feel the molecules of his body disintegrating just before the leap fire took him.  By this point in his life, Vaughn had experienced leaping, but he thought it was a unique feeling and sorta liked it.  Now that feeling began to crawl through the atoms of his body, and his last thought before the red 'fire light' flashes and he leaped was...This is the first step to being Senior Leaper.

When at last Vaughn opened his eyes again, it was a rude awakening.

‘What the hell?’ he thought, looking slowly around.  He was in a bedroom, and he was in bed…with a man.  ‘Just friggin' great!  Lothos has a sense of humor...sick as it is.’   But nothing, not even this was he about to allow to slow him down.  Glancing at the guy lounging beside under the sheet beside him, Vaughn blocked everything else out of his mind, everything except doing whatever was necessary to deceive and thereby destroy somebody's life.  So… first things first.

"Who are you?" he asked, just remembering to keep his tone devoid of demanding.  It appeared, at least on the surface, that these two knew each other very well.

        To Charlie Denney, his companion’s odd question...*Who am I?* caused him to wonder as he frowned at him.  "Nathan, quit playing around.  I mean, you certainly knew my name a little bit ago," he said, his voice a bit softer as he leaned over to gently kiss his shoulder.  But the way that Nathan leaned further away from him made him wonder what the attractive man beside him was thinking.  "Ok.  What's this?  We finally get together and now you’re rethinking... is that it?" he asked, more than a bit upset.

One thing that Vaughn took pride in was that it took quite a bit for something to floor him.  But this, when he had first opened his eyes, had had its chance; not anymore.

Nathan.... that's me.

Knowing that he had to convince what's-his-name that he was Nathan, it was more than time to get down to his reason for being where he was.  So, digging around in his always-ready store of reactions, Vaughn slightly frowned at the other man, then reached a hand out to tousle his hair.

"What, you can't take a little teasing?" he asked with a soft chuckle.  "You never heard of twenty questions?" Noticing his companion still didn’t seem totally convinced, Vaughn, privately preferring to do jumping jacks in a minefield right now, leaned closer as if to kiss him.  Dropping the tone of his voice to a huskiness that rarely failed with women, he whispered, "Come on, baby...humor me.  Play the game." He paused a moment then lightly ran the tip of his tongue over his lips then asked again, "Who are you?"  This time his…partner got into the game.  Yet as the man was getting in the mood, the Leaper was still wondering who it was that he was here to deceive.

The instant that Nathan dropped his tone to that husky sound that had first attracted him, Charlie grinned at him.  "Someone who's terribly attracted to you," he said lightly, reaching out to lightly lay a hand on his chest.  "If you mean... my name," he went on.  Seeing Nathan frown then nod slightly, he licked his lips as I look down at him and said, "Okay.  My name is Charles Allen Denney... the man who cares a great deal about you."

"Nice to meet you, Charles Allen Denney," Vaughn parroted the other man’s words.  The light in Charles’ eyes, as well as the way he edged a little closer told him that he was definitely getting into the game.  Vaughn hoped that would be all that he got into while he was there.

Glancing around and past him, he caught sight of a framed picture on his side of the bed.  It was a photograph of a redhead with long hair and blue eyes to drown in.  Needing as much information as he could get, as fast as he could get it, the Leaper decided on his next question.  Staying with the mood of the moment, Vaughn captured Charles’ hand, stilling his fingers as they skimmed lightly over his chest. 

"Who's that?" he asked, sort of nodding his head backward to indicate something behind him.  His bed companion’s response of, "Who?" did as he had hoped, causing him to look beyond Nathan’s shoulder then reply, "That's Tracy." 

'Your girlfriend?" Vaughn opted to tease a little more.  "You're cheating on your girlfriend with me, Charles?"  He chuckled, honestly amused at the picture forming in his mind.  "I'm flattered," he said with an amused grin.  But then he was corrected about just who 'she' was.

        “Please, call me Charlie,” the unfaithful husband told his companion. Then, hearing him chuckle, couldn’t help but smile as he said, "Actually... she's the wife.” He raised his left hand to show him the ring on his third finger.  "No worries.  She won't be home for a while yet," Charlie told him plainly as he wiggled his captured hand free to resume caressing Nathan’s hairy chest.

Vaughn’s objective became crystal clear the moment he heard the word 'wife' fall from Charlie Denney’s lips. Charlie showing off his wedding ring just gave the Leaper more ideas about how best to destroy his marriage; …choices, choices.  Now knowing the scenario, Vaughn, ever a quick study in the romance/sex department, decided that it was time to get comfortable with the situation.  He had learned long ago that if a person wasn’t comfortable and relaxed in a situation, he or she would give themselves away every time.

Shifting onto his side to face him, now he returned Charlie’s caress, asking softly, "So what's the story?  I mean for us being an item at the moment."  He didn’t miss the way Charlie tried to avoid his gaze and the question.  "Come on," he said, nudging him with his knee under the sheet.  "What is it?"  Anyone who knew Vaughn, had they been there in the room, could have told Charlie Denney as he tried to change the direction of the conversation, that it was a lost cause.  They would have told him that once Vaughn Rickar set his sights on a potential ‘conquest’, he was eminently persuasive and persistent. 

Realizing that his bed partner was going to need a touch of convincing, or reassurance, Vaughn combined one of the many unique lessons he, like countless other leapers had learned, with his own inborn charm then turned it full force on Charlie Denney.

Pushing up on his elbows, the Leaper hesitated; gazing deeply into Charlie’s besotted green eyes then leaned up to brush a kiss lightly against his lips then backed off again.  When he opened his eyes to look at him again, Vaughn saw something in his eyes and put it into words.  "Tracy doesn't know about... you, does she?"

The moment that Vaughn Rickar’s lips brushed against his hips, Charlie knew it was right...and that he was ready.  Taking a deep breath in, he let it out then swallowed before he looked into Nathan’s unwavering gaze.  But for as ready as he was to be where he was, he still couldn’t bring himself to voice it, so he just shook his head negatively.  Maintaining gazes with the man he’d been watching for a few months before finally approaching him last week, Charlie reached out a hand and slid it behind Nathan’s neck and quickly brought his lips back to his. When the kiss ended, he leaned his forehead to his, saying softly, "She... wouldn't understand."

The best and most experienced leapers knew that the best way to integrate into a situation was to go with the flow, so Vaughn relaxed and let Charlie enjoy the kiss.  Once the other man was satisfied with the kiss to the point that he felt comfortable enough to make his confession, Vaughn knew it was time to start baiting the hook.  He was determined that when he finally set that hook, Charlie Denney was going to wish that he'd never laid eyes...or anything else.... on Nathan Whoever-He-Is.  "It's okay, Charles..." pausing when he was quickly reminded, “It’s Charlie.” 

"Charlie," Vaughn murmured softly, accepting the other’s nuzzling his neck and starting to kiss him between words.  "If...you knew...about your...preference...why'd you...marry her?"  It was clear that Tracy’s husband was reluctant, but to his unknown detriment, once Vaughn knew the lay of the land in a romantic situation, the girl...or in this case, Charlie... didn’t stand a holdout's chance.  And it appeared that his question had touched a nerve.  ‘Good.’

 "What?" he prompted him, best done when he moved a hand between them and held him back a little so he could look into Charlie’s eyes.  "Talk to me, Charlie."

"I... don't... want... "  But Vaughn pushing him back and turning his ‘never miss’ gaze on him, Charlie couldn’t have resisted further, even if he’d been so inclined.  He blinked, then blinked again before at last saying softly, "I... I didn't... I didn't know.  I didn't... know that I was interested until after...I... I met you."  There, it was out in the open. Seeing a slight frown furrowing Nathan’s smooth high forehead caused Charlie to add, his voice and attitude a bit more confident, "You've got... to understand," he said. "I want you, Nathan.  I want…to be with you.”

‘Uhhh ohhh!’  Something in his voice gave the Leaper a weird feeling, and much as he’d rather not, Vaughn had to ask.

"Charlie...Charlie, look at me," he ordered his voice quiet yet firm as he reached to run a hand lightly up and down his arm.  When at last Charlie’s gaze met his gaze, Vaughn asked straight out, "This is your first time...isn't it?"  It took a minute but the answer comes out...."Yes."

The response from the objective of his deception put a different spin on things.  ‘So what?  I'll deal with it.  Yet to do that meant that Vaughn had to switch tactics, changing from the defensive to the aggressive.  To that end, when Charlie tried to kiss him again, the Leaper turned his head so Charlie’s lips brushed the side of his face, then turned back to him.

"What's the matter with her?" he asked, nodding backward again to indicate Tracy’s picture.  "Doesn't she satisfy you?"  Hearing Charlie mumble something about her being jealous of other women, and going off onto tears when she suspected him of looking around, Vaughn nodded at him. "I get it, now.  As long as you’re with a guy...me... and she doesn't find out... she stays off your back, you get your satisfaction and everybody's happy.  Right?"   It turned his stomach at the almost pathetic the way Charlie’s eyes lit up as he said softly, "Exactly.  Everybody gets what they want."  Once again, he leaned closer to kiss Vaughn again, but it's just then that he...they both heard something in the other room.  A glance at Charlie's face, now white as paste, told him that Tracy of the glorious red hair and luscious blue eyes was about to learn something new about her husband.  There was no holding in the chuckle that welled up and spilled out of Vaughn throat as he prepared to move in for the kill.

"Guess who's home?" he taunted softly, oh so ready to get down to the business of ruining Charlie Denney’s life.  Sliding his arms around his neck, Vaughn rolled onto his back and pulled his now unwilling bedmate down into a tight embrace.  "Kiss me, Charlie," he whispered seductively to him.

But the unmistakable sound of a woman's voice calling out his name as she approached the bedroom door had suddenly flushed all romance from Charlie's mind as he began to struggle to get away from Nathan.

‘Tough.’  Vaughn silently mocked him as he began to use his victim’s struggles to his advantage, tangling and twining his legs with Charlie’s legs, one arm locked behind his waist and the other on the back of Charlie’s dark blond head, forcing his lips to stay in contact with his own.  ‘You’re mine now, sweet Charlie.’

Hearing the stereo click off in the living room followed by the sound of his wife calling out his name, was Charlie’s worst nightmare come true as he instantly felt the blood drain from his face.

‘Oh Lord, what am I going to do?’ he thought frantically just before he felt Nathan wrap his arms around his neck and roll him on top of him.  He felt the arms of the man with whom he had become infatuated over the last couple of months tightening around him in an embrace, heard him mutter in the husky tone that had initially drawn Charlie, to, "Kiss me, Charlie," just as Tracy called his name again.  By the volume of her voice, he knew she was in the hallway leading up to the bedroom.  He tried to shake his head.  "Nathan... let me..."  Charlie never got to finish the rest of his thought when, as the sound of the doorknob turning reached his ears, he felt Nathan clasp his hands on the back of his head, forcing his head down again– their lips meeting - hard.

Opening the bedroom door and seeing a blob form on the bed - under the covers - her heart completely stopped in her throat as she gasped out in pain.  Her Charlie... with... another woman?

It was the gasp from the direction of the door behind them that finally caused enough adrenaline to pump into Charlie’s veins, giving him the strength to push away from Nathan, and then turned his head to look back at his wife -- her blue eyes beginning to blaze in anger.  But then the look in her eyes changed as he realized that that she had seen Nathan as well.  The look in her eyes went from just anger to revulsion when, he was certain, she had seen who he was on top of.

Seeing the form move and then Charlie turning back to look at her just doubled the heat, hurt, and anger in her eyes.  But when Tracy’s gaze went back to the person that her husband was on top of, she went beyond shocked and straight to disgusted.  She raised a hand to cover her mouth, praying...insisting...pleading with whomever or whatever that…’this can't be right.’

"Tracy..."

It was hearing her husband call out to her that brought her out of the moment of stunned disbelief.  Tracy just looked at him, blinking her startled eyes before at last taking a few steps back.  "What... what is this, Charlie?" she asked a bit dumbfounded.  "Is this some kind of sick joke?" she half-whispered, a thread of hope in her voice.  ‘Oh please, God, let this be some sick perverted joke!’

Vaughn did everything he could to make Charlie work to get away from him and the kiss; hanging determinedly onto him he heard the bedroom door open.  Only at that second did he allow himself to be pushed away, laying still for a few seconds, listening to the disbelief in his wife's voice.

‘Oh yeah, this is gonna be perfect.’ He thought, not missing how Charlie was scrabbling to get out from under the sheet...correction, doing his best to hang onto it... while he babbled some pathetic, whiny sort of plea to Tracy..."Baby, please...no. This isn't what it looks like."

‘That's my cue.’

A glance at the redhead - geez what a looker!... and she doesn't do anything for him? - revealed that the initial rush of disgust had begun to simmer and shift toward anger. 

"Charlie...baby," Vaughn said suddenly, keeping the husky timbre of his voice soft and seductive.  Pushing up to a sitting position, he felt the sheet drop from his chest to his lap as he deftly fended off the now desperate Charlie’s attempts to keep his hands off of him.  But Charlie Denney was fighting a losing battle, evidenced further when the ambitious Leaper reached each out and grabbed for him, sliding one arm around his waist.  "You promised," Vaughn insisted, allowing a suggestion of hurt to color his words.  Tightening his hold on Charlie, Vaughn pulled him back again his chest then pressed his cheek against the other man’s smooth, muscular back, nuzzling him suggestively.  "You said she wouldn't be home for hours. And we've only done it once."

        “Th...that’s a lie!  We…haven’t done anything!  Let me go!  Leave me alone!”

Inside, Vaughn was laughing like a hyena as Charlie babbled, damn near choking on his own spit as he pulled and pushed frantically at the strong arms around his waist.  ‘Not a chance, stud’ the Leaper determined to take Zoe Malvison’s place thought.  As if to emphasize that thought, he brought his other arm around and over Charlie’s belly.  ‘You are gonna earn me the prize.’

Listening to the wife screaming and Charlie babbling, pleading with both her and his fantasy-turned-nightmare man, Vaughn just tuned his hearing out, only listening to every other word...a few even being coherent…as he hung on.

Charlie’s frantic efforts to escape from ‘Nathan’ escalated to shoving and even elbowing, but it wasn’t enough to dislodge his now determined secret suitor who was hanging on like a burr on a blanket.

"Come on, lover," Vaughn muttered coarsely, now letting some aggression into his voice.  "You promised me a good time and I'm ready for it.  I know you are," he hissed just loud enough for Charlie and Tracy both to hear.  But Hot Stuff Charlie chose that moment to freeze in his arms when Vaughn dropped one hand to his lap before proceeding to slip it under the sheet.  His laughter was mocking as he divided look between Charlie and Tracy.

"Charlie,” he cooed.  “You naughty thing," Vaughn teased cruelly as his hand under the sheet found what he was after.  "You were teasing me.  You *are* ready."  To make sure that Tracy got not just an eyeful but both eyes full, with a quick move, Vaughn flicked the sheet back so that she could see what he was doing.

"Take me, Charlie," he moaned huskily to him.  "I’m ready...and you’re ready. Take me now."

The one thing that Tracy Denney couldn’t and wouldn’t abide from anyone was being made a fool of.  So when Charles said that it wasn't what it looked like, she started yelling then.  She heard her husband’s desperate, whining blabbering that he loved her, that he didn't want this "accident" to affect them.  But when she watched him straighten up, she finally actually listened to what the…person was is saying.  It was then that whoever he was pulled back the sheet and she saw plainly how excited that Charlie was reacting under this man's touch.

"You know WHAT, Charlie?” Tracy shouted furiously, as she fumbled to refasten the buttons down the front of her uniform that she had freed when she had been coming down the hall.  “I can SEE that you need some RELIEF!  And there’ll be blizzards in Hell before you ever get it from me again! So I’ll just leave because no way in hell am I sticking around here anymore.  I'll have my friends come and get my things!  And you..."  Tracy forced a glare at the thing beside her husband on the bed. Seeing the triumphant look in his eyes made her palm itch to march over to the bed and slap the smug half smile off his pretty boy face.  She decided not to, preferring not to soil her hands with such an action.  She settled for screaming at ‘the other man’,  "And you, you perverted bastard can GO TO HELL WITH HIM!!"  Pivoting, she marched back to the living room, grabbed her purse and stalked out of the apartment, both hearing and ignoring her husband calling out frantically to her the entire time.  Getting to the door, and with tears now in her eyes, screamed back at him as she opened the door, "CHARLES ALLEN DENNEY... HAVE YOUR LOVER... BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE IN THIS COMPLEX WILL EVER HAVE YOU ANYMORE!!"

It was a good thing that Vaughn was physically fit, because it took some doing to hang onto "Hot Stuff", rebuffing his attempts to get away, and patently ignoring him when he first pleaded then began to scream at ‘Nathan’ to let him go. 

‘Sorry, Charlie,’ Vaughn thought nastily to the man struggling to get free of his grasp.  ‘But you're not finished yet...and neither am I.’ Until Lothos chose to retrieve him; the Leaper had every intention of working this assignment to the hilt. 

Even when Charlie managed to get away from him and tore out of the bedroom and heading for his betrayed wife who was screaming to the four winds about him and his lover, Vaughn refused to quit.  Leaping off the bed, Vaughn was hot on Charlie's heels, catching him at the end of the couch. This time when he grabbed hold of the man who had thought he could have his fantasy with no one the wiser, Vaughn yanked him back against his body and gave Charlie’s soon to be ex-wife a show she would likely never forget.  Nor would the complex; Vaughn knew Tracy’s type.  By the time sun rose in the morning it would be all over the complex about Charles Allen Denney and his transgression.  Everyone would know about Sweet Charlie; not about just being caught in bed with his male lover but what that lover did…what Charlie allowed that lover to do to him right there in front of his wife.

Tracy’s blue eyes became as big as saucers, her mouth dropping open in disgusted reaction when she saw her husband’s lover’s lewd attentions toward him.  It was plainly more than Tracy's feminine pride was going to endure.  Grabbing the first thing she could lay her hands on, a lamp, she hurled it at the men with every ounce of strength she could muster, screaming as it smashed against the wall, "I WANT A DIVORCE!! NOW!! RIGHT NOW!!", and then stomped off down the hall.

The shattering of the lamp coupled with his wife’s demand for an immediate divorce shrieked at the top of her lungs was the straw that broke Charlie Denney’s back.  From one moment to the next, Vaughn felt all of the fight go out of Charlie.  Releasing his grip on him, the Leaper watched him slump to the floor in front him, listening as Charlie bawled like a baby.  And, in a way, neither was Vaughn surprised when he heard a sound and looked up to see a couple of women peering in the door.

"Get a good look, ladies," he mocked them.  The words were barely past his lips when he felt the tingle that indicated he was about to be retrieved.

In less time than took to think it, Vaughn opened his eyes to discover that he was once more in the Accelerator Chamber and, thankfully, wearing his uniform again.  Without a word to the technician, he exited the chamber and returned to the lecture hall, making the transit in record time.  What made it even better was when he slid through the door just ahead of Johanna Royden.  The look on her face almost made him think that she was going to say something about manners. 

‘Please say something. Anything!’  If Johanna said so much as ‘boo’, that would be all it would take for her to be disqualified for the first test.  To his disappointment, his competitor didn’t make a peep as they returned to the positions each had occupied when the competition had started.   It also seemed to Vaughn that Thames seemed a little surprised that both were back so soon.  But that was something to be considered at some other time, and Vaughn Rickar came to attention, waiting to hear what Thames –and by extension, Lothos—had up his sleeve for the next aspect of the competition next.

Johanna was more than a bit put out when Vaughn had rudely and a bit roughly pushed past her at the lecture hall door.  Her mouth dropped open and she couldn’t help but look at him a bit irritatedly.  ‘What's the deal?  Where are your manners, butthead?’ she thought to herself before closing her mouth and grinding her teeth a bit before she slid in through the door and went immediately to her spot.  Flashing a cool glare at Vaughn, she turned her head back to look at Thames, and saw his surprised look.

There was no missing the look that he gave her, focusing on the side of her face and seeing the still visible imprint of her hand where she had slapped herself.  It hurt like hell but I'm she refused to think about it since she was on duty and trying for this position.  Still, she was more than a bit surprised when he asked about it.

Thames had only arrived back in the lecture from his brief visit to the I.C.U. to inquire about Zoe’s condition, when he saw not just Vaughn, or just Johanna, but both of them come through the hall's double doors in well under the four hour time allotted to each for their respective assignments.  There was also no denying that he was more than a little surprised.  He remembered quite clearly his own competition and competing again Sterling Wells for the position.  Both of them had barely wiggled under the max time limit.  But, these two finishing so quickly only said good things about them.

Giving them a chance to catch their breath, he walked around each of them, looking them up and down.  Seeing the handprint on Johanna's left cheek, Thames paused close to her.  His eyes roved from her cheek to her eyes a couple of times before he asked, "Run into someone?"  For a moment he wondered if was she's going to say anything.  “In here you may speak," he advised her.

Not until Thames actually told her she could speak to him did Johanna respond to the question.  "No sir, I did not run into anyone.  This incident was because of my assignment, sir.  Self inflicted to help prove my case, sir," she stated plainly and specifically, never actually looking him in the eye, instead keeping her gaze straight out before her. "It won't affect my future assignments, sir," she told him flatly.  It didn’t matter how much pain she was in, a little or a lot, Johanna had no option.  She had not the slightest intention of letting anything stand in her way.  She couldn’t, not with Vaughn Rickar as her competition.  This was all or nothing, and she meant to settle for nothing less than all.

Hearing Johanna’s last comment, Vaughn couldn’t help sliding a sideways look at her.  Neither could he resist getting in dig.  "If it did," he said quietly. "Then you’ve got no business in this competition." He turned his head, his eyes meeting her cool gaze, the only sign of a reaction to his words. "This is a competition for grown-ups. Little girls have no business here."

Thames waited without comment to see how Johanna would handle Vaughn's baiting.  If she thought he was going to interfere in something as minor as this, then she wasn’t the top-notch leaper he’d always considered her to be.

Johanna, when the tall, dark-haired man that stood between her and the title of Senior Leaper spoke up, turned her head to look at him.  She was about ready to tell him flatly what he could do with his comments but before she just let her anger fly, she made herself take in a deep breath then let it out slowly and then answered him.

"And little boys who have to get in the last word while someone else’s pants are down aren't a part of the competition either."  Seeing his mouth drop open, she resumed her ‘eyes forward’ position set her jaw.  *Remember, hon,* she told herself.  *Always keep them guessing.*

         For a split second.... a nanosecond... Vaughn almost gave into the absurd notion that...somehow, Johanna had found out about his first test.  It hadn’t been something he cared for, but it if would land him the title and job of senior leaper, there was no question in his mind that he’d have done a whole roomful of Charlie’s and posed for pictures afterwards, to boot.  Under his breath he muttered, "Bitch," then gave his full attention to Thames.  But as he focused on what the current Senior Observer was saying, Vaughn determined privately that when this was over, regardless of which of them came out on top, he and Miss Goody White Panties were going to have a private little tête-à-tête…without the tea party.  He’d give her a new definition of manners.