[atxc-pi] NEW: Compromised - Domestications -NC-17- (2/3)

[yankees...@yahoo.com]

Yes to Gossamer

Compromised - Domestications
by Amazon X
yankees...@yahoo.com

Part 2
See part 0 for story information.

"How's your back, Sasha?" I ask.

"Oh, it's OK. I wasn't out there that long. Sorry, I didn't want to wake you
up," he explains as I lean down to kiss his upturned face.

"Well, let's get breakfast together. We have to go to the bank today. Call
what's-her-name and tell her we'll meet at noon to start the process."

"We don't have to pay for the house today, Vlad."

"I know that, but just having that check in my hand will show them how serious
I am. This is my territory, Sasha. Business deals were my life, once. Now,
it's like going home."

Alex smiles at me. "You are so sexy when you're feisty."

"I'm here, you know," Shannon says loudly. "I didn't like mushy talk from
Momma, and I don't like it from you."

I turn to Alex with a thoroughly chastened look on my face. "She doesn't like
mushy talk."

"Tough luck, kid. It's not often, but we get a little mushy sometimes. That's
what married people do."

She shrugs and starts eating the Cheerios with strawberries I fixed for her.
She doesn't like the children's cereals, which I think is a good thing. All
that sugar is too much. She does lament that she doesn't get a prize in the
box like everyone else. Alex has begun to buy little toys and puts them in the
box for her to find. He spoils her rotten, really. This is not setting a
good precedent.

Thankfully, we dress quickly and start on our way to the bank. Shannon is
annoyed to get up and go so early, which is new. Usually she likes getting up
with Alex and getting moving with him. She's still so tired from being sad.
Keeping her busy has probably only reinforced the loss of her mother. She's
figured out our plot.

At the bank, they see us right away, giving discreet condolences for Shannon's
loss. Manassas might be a small city, but the key word there is small.
Anabelle knew a lot of people and most of them are sorry that she's gone. Our
banker, Amanda, greets us and is surprised by the purchase of the house. "I
thought you would never leave the cabin," she mentions as she types in some
information to our account.

"We wouldn't have, but situations change," Alex says. "If Shannon is going to
go to school in town, we should be closer."

"Makes sense. That cabin is small, as well. I know of the Wainwright place,
it's huge. You'll need a staff, you know." Amanda smiles at us, and her
light blue eyes sparkle. I love looking at women, they're so beautiful.

"OK, I can have the check drafted and brought to you, but I will put a hold on
cashing it for the 45-day escrow, is that fair?"

"Yes, we'll need to have the place inspected, appraised and cleaned," Alex
says. "Thank you for your help, Amanda."

We all shake hands and stand to leave. Amanda gives Shannon a lollypop for
being such a good quiet girl, and it's her favorite, cherry. Off we drive to
the house where Kelly and the Wainwrights are waiting for us there. We're
only fifteen minutes late, and I should feel guilty, but I don't.

They have spread the paperwork out on the kitchen counter. We walk in as a
family, but Shannon wants to play in the backyard, so we let her go. The
Wainwrights are a middle-aged couple, as gray as me, but looking very much
older. They act haughty and condescending, but quickly quiet down when I start
pointing out the legal loopholes in the contract. I am not getting screwed on
this deal. Alex is very quiet, which surprises me. I'll ask him about it
later.

When I'm finally satisfied, and Kelly has adjusted and reprinted the contract
on her little traveling office, the four of us sign the papers. I can see the
Wainwrights are happy to leave, and I'm happy to see them go. Even before I
was outed, they were a snotty couple. Never needed my services, and I was
happy not to provide them. In the end, we have them paying for the inspection
and appraisal, and any repairs resulting from both. I think I made out all
right.

When Alex and I are alone in the house, he turns to me and asks, "You didn't
study law, did you? How do you know all that contract stuff?"

"I had to learn, for the business. When I have big jobs, I write contracts for
them. You've seen me."

"I guess I thought it was just a computer program."

"Technically, it is. I did take a class about it, though. Got an A if I
recall."

"Ooh! Sexy and smart, I love that in a man."

He steps up to me and kisses my mouth, and I lean into him. Oh, this house
will be good for us. She's on a different floor, we can bathe together again,
walk around the room naked, I can make Alex moan again. It will be a nice
change.

We go home and begin the daunting task of waiting. It is weeks before we have
the inspection and other than some substandard insulation in the attic, the
place is well kept. No dry rot, no termites, not even cracked plaster. The
Wainwrights loved their home. The cost to replace the insulation isn't as much
as I thought it would be, so I contact the Wainwrights to wave the cost. I'll
pay for that. It's the least I can do after the hard case I gave them. The
appraisal of the house, after the new insulation, brings it in at one point
six million dollars. I'm shocked, I really did screw them out of almost a
million dollars. I can't dwell on that. The summer is almost over and we
need to get moved in before school starts.

I turn that over to Alex. He can deal with a decorator. Instead, I turn to
building a new bedroom set for Shannon. She wants furniture like a big girl,
so I'll make her a full sized bed, a large dresser and a night table. For the
other room, I'll build her a desk, and bookshelves and lots of other things
like a chest with a lock on it that only she can open. I remember my mother
telling a neighbor that a woman needs a place to keep things private. It must
also be true for little girls.

As the end of August closes in on us, Alex and I start consulting on the
decoration of the house. A beautiful redheaded woman named Sarah sweeps into
the living room of our cabin, a stack of books in her hands. "Hello! My,
such a drive up here." She looks around the place and says, "This is a
complete change from the other property, isn't it?"

Alex smiles and steps in. "We bought the house for the size, really. Being
able to keep Shannon's privacy and ours is very important. The sheer size of
the house pretty much guarantees that. And with the pool, the spare rooms,
the many rooms on the first floor, we can begin to entertain more."

"I was thinking the same thing, elegant dinner parties, cocktail soirees..."

Alex holds his hand up and stops Sarah cold. "Not our style. We're not those
kinds of homosexuals. Trust me, there's going to be a room with a large
screen TV for sports viewing. And there needs to be places for people to
dance and hang out. Our friends cultivated the circle in an old
roadhouse."

"Ah, the one down the road. I know it well. Maybe you'll take me there?" she
says. Yeah, I think we can take our decorator to the Closet.

"So, when do we start?" he asks.

*-*-*-*

Decorating the house is an experience. Sarah's philosophy is: start at the top
and work your way down. So, of course, we start with Shannon's rooms. Walter
gave Sarah detailed drawings of the furniture and the dimensions, which almost
stopped the process. Walter stands his ground and the decorating goes on.
She does have great ideas for Shannon's rooms, doing the bedroom in peach which
matches the bathroom, but opposes the blue of her playroom. Shannon likes
blue, but both rooms would be too much. Walter even agrees to paint the
furniture, which is something I rarely see him do. He loves natural wood.

Our room and the sitting room are done in manly colors, but we stop her at the
paneling. I refuse to put wood on a wall. It will feel like a bad seventies
basement. I couldn't live with that. She doesn't carpet our rooms like she
did with Shannon's rooms. We have these lovely Turkish rugs she found very
cheap on the internet. I did verify they were real Turkish rugs, since I
recognize the workmanship. She asked me how I came to spend time in Turkey,
but I fobbed it off that it was during my last career.

The guest rooms I tell her to just do something neutral and pleasing. It's for
guests, so it shouldn't be outrageous, but it should be comfortable. She does
the living room the same way, since we'll hardly use that room. There won't
be a television in there. That will be the den. That room she does up right
with a work area and a play area. The television is one of those massive ones
that is almost like a movie screen in the house.

Well, now I know where that extra million dollars went. Yes, it takes that
much money to decorate this place top to bottom. To show good faith, I pay
for it. Walter paid for the house, after all. Everything is in both our
names though. When finally Kelly tells us we can move in, we've packed our
clothes, personal things we want like photos and the like, dry goods that will
eventually go bad back at the house, and anything we can think of. I won't
leave the books, videos or music at the cabin. Shannon insists on the video
game we got her and William.

I think about Mulder, Scully and William visiting. They'll love this house and
we won't be on top of each other. They can stay longer than a weekend. Well,
that's if Scully can stand me for that long. Sometimes I wonder if she
doesn't still hold a kernel of hate for me over her sister. I just don't
mention it.

Moving day is exciting. Walter loads the Range Rover and I load the Hummer.
He takes Shannon and the dogs in his truck because he has better shocks.
We've turned off the cable to the house, but not the power or the phone lines
for the security system. Officially, we have moved.

I can't help but let a few tears fall as I drive down the mountain for the last
time, probably, as an inhabitant. This was the first real home I'd ever
known, that I could recall. The cabin was where Walter and I fell in love,
after I crawled back to him. I hurt him so badly that day, when I made him
have sex with me. He's forgiven me, we've discussed it, sober and not so
sober, and I have allowed him to forgive me. I just won't ever forgive
myself.

At the house, Shannon is trying to corral the dogs to get them into the house.
Walter is waiting for me, but I don't know why. I walk over and say, "What's
up?"

"I'm waiting for you. I want to do something." He has a strange look on his
face.

I walk over and say, "What do you..."

And I don't get a chance to ask the whole question as he sweeps me up into his
arms and carries me into the house through the door that Shannon has
conveniently left open. He puts me down in the foyer and kisses me. "I love
you, Sasha. Welcome home."

He must be able to read my mind, thinking about a home. He's the most amazing
man I've ever known. We find the three dogs crawling all over the new
furniture, getting fur and slobber on things. I had warned Sarah about the
dogs, so all of the furniture was treated for stains. There's only one problem
that I can see about this house. Keeping it clean. We'll never be able to do
that. I don't particularly care about that right now.

Shannon runs over and jumps into my arms, asking, "When can we eat?"

"Oh, we've got a lot to do. Why don't we start by getting the food into the
cabinets and make sure we agree where everything goes?"

"Good idea. We'll start in the kitchen, then we'll unpack the trucks. We can
start with the beds today, but clothes can be unpacked in time, yes?"

"How do you know?" Shannon asks him. She gives him a dubious look.

"I've moved quite a few times in my life, Shannon. From the Marines, to
college, to my first apartment, then when I was married, and about three more
times after that. I pretty much know what I'm doing. We'll do a little every
day and it won't take so long."

She nods and walks into the kitchen. That day is wrought with struggles, where
do the cans go, where do the cereal boxes go, and we come to the conclusion,
we will need a stepstool for Shannon. Walter volunteers to build it, but asks
me to paint it. I've found I have a talent at painting intricate designs on
things. I have a vague memory that my mother did that, painted nesting dolls,
matryoshka. I did it on one headboard for an order, and I did it for all of
Shannon's furniture, painting unicorns and dolphins on things, which she loves
in equal amounts.

By the end of the day, we're exhausted. The phone company is coming tomorrow
to put in jacks where we want them. It seems the Wainwrights had two phones
in the house, one in the master bedroom, one in the kitchen. We'll need
extensions all over the house, both our lines, the designated one for the
security system the Gunmen will be by to install, even though I'm still
technically employed with a security company on a consulting basis. Walter
needs a jack in the work shed, we should have one by the pool and I want
Shannon to have one.

Walter and I lay together in our bed, clean sheets on it, prettily decorated
around the bed frame we made together. His hand is on my belly, rubbing
circles. "We have a great house, Vlad," I say to him.

"Yes, Sasha, we do. You made a solid choice. Did you see all the copper
piping in the basement?" He rolls towards me and begins kissing my neck.

"Yes, I saw that on my first visit. I should have looked in the attic, sorry,"
I say, noticing he's nibbling on my earlobe.

"Does all this house-talk turn you on?" I ask, as he moves down my throat.

"Yes. It's finally something real for both of us. We're married, we own the
house together, we've got the kid, it's real." His kiss is swift and strong.
I'm almost over-taken by his all encompassing kiss. He's on top of me, laying
between my legs, on my chest, with his arms around me to bring me closer to
him. His tongue is relearning me, stroking my collar bones, teasing my
nipples and making me moan. He slides down the bed to my belly, spending his
time nuzzling my navel and not commenting on the few extra pounds I'm carrying
around. I love that about him. I also don't mention that most of his body
hair has gone gray, but that's because I don't care. I love him as he is, not
as he was.

His mouth reaches my cock, which had been slowly rising as his hand caressed
it. I thought he was going to jerk me off, but he slowly runs his tongue
along the underside, tickling me the way I like. He continues all the way to
the head where he begins running his hot tongue all the way around the edge,
just teasing me. I let him, though, since it's been so long since we've just
played in bed. I'm tired of quick, quiet fucks so we don't wake up
Shannon.

He deep throats me and God! am I happy I taught him to do that. He works his
way down slowly, then back up equally as slowly, until he almost pulls up off
the top. I try to rise up with him, but he holds my hips down. He takes his
time drawing up and sliding down, completely engulfing me. Oh, God, if he puts
his finger in my ass I'll come. He doesn't and pulls up off me completely. I
reach over to the bedside table to get the lube I put there. He smiles down
at me.

"Sneaky boy," he says. In the pale moonlight streaming through the windows,
he's the young, ambitious assistant director who witnessed my cruel and
inhuman treatment at Mannerly's place. I don't really care at this point, but
seeing his face this way, all the years erased, I wish I hadn't been so stupid
and wasted all that time.

He slips inside me, gently and slowly. I'm not so loose anymore, having not
been with him in weeks. He takes his time with me, kissing my cheeks and
telling me how beautiful I am. I take his face in both hands and kiss him
powerfully. He moans into my mouth what should be words, telling me how sexy I
am, how incredibly tight and hot my ass is.

"Oh God, I miss that big cock in me," I say in his ear. We don't make love
enough, and that sometimes bothers me. It also reminds me that he loves me
for more than just my hot hole and mouth on his cock. I wrap my legs around
his waist, shortening his strokes, which makes him sit up.

"Sasha, chto yavl'ayets'a nepravil'nym?" he asks.

"Nothing, just keeping you closer. I missed making love to you so much."

"Then let me continue," he says as he sits up, pulling my legs further apart.
Upright, he grabs me under my knees and begins slow, deep strokes, hitting my
sweet spot with each stroke. My cock hardens more and sways with each stroke.
He loves to watch my cock and balls move when he fucks me. I'm happy to
oblige him. The build up is too great, I can't take it and let my come flow.
I must have built up a bit a pressure because I haven't splattered Walter's
chin in a long time.

I try to squeeze him and he jerks, coming inside me. He collapses on me,
smearing me with my come. I slide my arms around his back and pull him
tightly to me. He kisses his way back up to my lips, cooling my overheated
flesh with his sweet breath. We share a kiss, but I pull away to lick a path
through the smear on his chin.

"Kinky boy," he says. He kisses some of the taste from my mouth and nuzzles my
neck. "I'm not sleepy, are you, Sasha?"

"No, not really. Wanna bath?" I ask. I've been dying to get into that tub
with him for the longest time.

"Yeah, let's hit it!" We jump from the bed and scramble into the bathroom.
I'm so thankful Walter had the tankless water heaters installed in the house.
We can run hot water for as long as we want and never run out, so long as we
have electricity. When we've settled in, foam floating around us making the
myrrh and sandalwood fragrant steam rise, we settle in each other's arms to
relax.

"I can't sleep," comes a quiet voice from the doorway. With a splash, we both
turn to where Shannon is standing in her pajamas, holding the stuffed bear I'd
given her ages ago.

"Didn't we tell you to knock before you came in?" Walter bellows.

"Hey, calm down, Vlad," I say. The tub is set in a raised platform, so from
where she stands, she can only see the parts that are above the top edge of
the tub. And she's seen us both shirtless.

"I did!" she yells back. "You didn't hear me!"

She turns and runs from the room, leaving the bear on the floor. I sit back
against the side of the tub and sigh. "Did you have to yell at her?" I ask,
as I get up and out of the bathtub. I wrap a towel around me and walk to the
bedroom to pull out pajamas.

"What if she had walked in fifteen minutes earlier?" he asks, letting out the
water and getting out himself.

"Then we'd have heard her knock," I say back, pulling up my pajama pants. I
pull on my t-shirt as I walk out the door of our suite into the hall. First
checking her rooms and finding them empty, I make my way back down to the main
level where I begin calling for her. No answer through the kitchen and the
den. I look outside and see her sitting at the pool, feet dangling over the
edge. The pool was emptied, so if she falls, that's a thirteen foot drop.

"Shannon! Don't move!" I shout, running toward her. She doesn't even look up
at me as I run by and snatch her up. "Don't you ever do that again. When
we're not here, this pool is off limits. Water or no water. You got me?" I
ask her as I sit with her on the low wall around the pool area.

"I wasn't going to jump," she says. "I just..."

She starts to cry and puts her head on my shoulder. I can only pat her back
and let her cry. She cries so much, I don't even know what to say to her
anymore. I just keep quiet and let her cry herself out. When she's done, she
looks at me and asks, "I can't sleep with you, can I?"

I take a deep breath. "I don't think Walter would like that, sweetie. We
don't wear pajamas, so, that's not right for you to sleep with us."

"You can't just sleep with 'em one night? Like when you would sleep with me?
You wore those really soft ones, with all the checks on 'em," she asks, face
so sad and hopeful.

"Yeah, we can do it one night," a voice from behind me says. We turn to
Walter, who has put on a t-shirt and sleep pants as well. They match mine, a
gift from Patty and Shaine from the wedding. He sits beside us and holds his
hand out to Shannon. She takes it and shakes it. She doesn't hug him as much
anymore and I think he likes that.

"Really?" she asks.

"As long as you promise this isn't going to be a habit. I like sleeping with
my husband, you know. One day, you'll find your own." She nods, rubbing her
eyes, and we retire to the master bedroom.

*-*-*-*

In the morning, I'm not sure, but I think I hear the front door open and close.
I chalk it up to old age a settle into the pillow further. Shannon sighs, and
I know she's asleep with her arms around Alex's neck. They look cute
together, but we're going to have to seriously discuss limits. Just as I'm
dropping back to sleep, I hear a gasp. Where the hell are the dogs?

"What in the name of the good Lord are you doing to that girl?" I hear someone
say. There's a woman in the house. One who doesn't belong. Oh, shit. I
jump from the bed, ready to reach for my Sig Sauer that I don't keep by the
bed anymore. Old habits die hard.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing in our home?" I yell.

"Grandma?" Shannon says, sitting up. Alex has gotten out of bed and is looking
for a weapon as well.

Blinking a few times, I recognize the woman from Anabelle's funeral. Anabelle
had told me her mother's name before she died so that I would know her on
sight, to bar her entrance to the house. For all the good it did, Vivilynn
Purcell is standing in our bedroom. She is the picture of the modern belle:
cream and black Chanel suit, cream and black pumps just the right height,
pearls in her ears, at her throat and on her wrist. Her fingers are
sporadically dotted with large diamonds. The scent of Coco Mademoiselle
drifts over to us. Dear God, she is the very embodiment of what Anabelle
always wanted to be. Only Vivilynn, she has the money to back herself up.
"I cannot believe the perversions going on here! And no one has arrested you?"
she accuses, hands on her hips. "Shannon Anne, you get your things together
and you will be coming with me. What was my daughter thinking? Leaving you
with these...these..."

"Perverted queers? Lady, you broke into my house. What does that make you?"
Alex turns to me and says, "Keep her here. I'm calling the police." He
reaches for the phone and dials 911.

"Well, think about how I found you in bed with a child! What will the police
think?"

He hangs up and says, "There's a couple cars on the way to sort it out."

"Good! They'll love to hear what I tell them!" Vivilynn Purcell is starting
to get on my nerves. "Now, Shannon, you listen to your Grandma Perky and get
your things! Get out of that...bed of sin! That's what ya'll are doing,
sinning." I'm having flashbacks of Anabelle and my head is spinning.

"Alex, who are they sending, Stuart and Artie or Mike Richards and LeVonne
O'Leary?"

"Both. Theresa laughed when I told her it was me. Asked which one of us shot
the intruder."

I'm hoping that our little banter lets this woman know that we are well known
in this town and liked by most. She stands her ground in our bedroom and no
one moves until we hear the sirens coming up the long driveway. I can hear
someone knocking on the front door and then the door opening. We need a
doorbell. The footsteps on the stairs make me smile. "We're on the second
floor, guys," I call out.

Four officers walk in, all the ones I named. Immediately, they look at
Vivilynn. "This is your intruder?" Artie asks. He looks the woman over and
smirks.

O'Leary and Richards move toward Alex and start asking him for his information
while Stuart walks over to me and shakes my hand. "What's the story, Walter?
I know this can't be good."

"You remember that woman from Anabelle's funeral? That's her mom. She wants
Shannon."

"So she broke in?" I nod and laugh. How is it that both those women barged
into our home and caught us in bed? Thankfully, we weren't fucking this time!
I look over at Shannon who looks completely lost and scared. I may not know
how to raise a little girl, but I do know that she should never feel scared in
her own home.

"OK, folks! Everyone out of our bedroom. Guys, take Mrs. Purcell to the
kitchen, please? Let us wake up a little and get moving. You're all scaring
our daughter."

"*Your* daughter, indeed!" Vivilynn says. The officers see that I'm right and
herd her out of the room and down the stairs. Loudly. Alex sits on the bed
with Shannon and hugs her.

"You OK, Petal?" he asks.

She nods, then breaks down in his arms. He hugs her and I leave them a moment
to take a leak and wash my face. When I come out, he's coaxing her to her
room to "freshen up" while he does "the same" in our room. I leave them to go
to our guests in the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, I see Vivilynn looking
around the kitchen. She has her critical eye out.

"I'm surprised that this room is so tasteful. I guess there are some
advantages to being men like you are," she says down her nose to me. Which is
a feat in and of itself as I top her by a foot in height, even with her high
heels while my feet are bare.

"We're not those kinds of fags, lady. We had a decorator. A straight woman,"
I say. It burns me a little to use Alex's favorite phrase, the one I begged
him to stop saying, but it needed saying to shock this woman.

"You obviously paid her well," is all she has to say. It sounds suspiciously
like a compliment. I start coffee while Richards and O'Leary question her. I
love the big officers dwarfing her while Stuart and Artie ask me about
business, and Artie mentions he might be needing a backyard table and
benches.

"Art, gotta email me the order so it can be put in the schedule. I'm an old
man, I forget these things."

"I thought that's what you had Alex for," he says back. "Let the youngun
handle the business, you just make the stock." He's kidding. It's taken a
long time to get from where he was accusing Alex of being a freak and a
kid-toucher to standing in my kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew and joking
with me. It's a moment I've never conceived of, and am almost in tears to
experience.

Alex walks in with Shannon by his side. He squats beside her and says,
"Sweetie, go greet your grandmother properly. Don't worry about us, we know
you can love more than one person."

Alex has gotten her into her Cinderella robe and "glass slippers". They're
made of clear plastic, which probably make her feet sweat, but she never seems
to mind. She walks over to her grandmother and stands there, waiting to be
hugged. Vivilynn bends down and gives her the perfunctory hug, but nothing
like we've bestowed upon her. Yeah, back when Shannon wanted to hug me. She
sits at the table where Alex has placed a glass of juice and a bowl of
Cheerios with strawberries in it.

I serve Vivilynn a cup of coffee and watch as she puts her dainty spoons of
sugar and drop of milk in it from the creamer set I put out. I pour my cup of
black and Alex makes his light and sweet the way he always does. Stuart and
Artie grab mugs from the counter where I left them, enjoying the hot bew. Even
Richards and O'Leary are partaking of some and complimenting me on it. I toast
them with my mug.

"So, what are we doing here, Walt? We taking the lady in as a B&E?" Artie
asks. I think he's serious.

"No!" Shannon says. The look on her face is pure fear and anguish. Poor kid,
doesn't know what to think.

"Nah, guys," Alex says. "Mrs. Purcell didn't mean any harm more than scaring
the hell out of us. We're OK from here."

Alex walks the officers out while I get Shannon her vitamin. Vivilynn hasn't
spoken since she got her coffee, but once Alex comes back into room, she's off
to the races. "Well, I've come here to collect Shannon and write you a check
for all the expenses for her since you took her on. And I should pay you back
for the funeral, Anabelle *was* my daughter."

I'm speechless.

*-*-*-*

Walter looks like he's about to lose a testicle. I'm about to blow up on her,
but she's not the kind of woman that would respond to anger well. "OK, you
owe us four million dollars."

"Pardon me?" she asks, her hand going to the delicate pearls at her throat. I
can see the barest shake in her fingers. She thinks I'm serious.

"How did you track us down here?" I ask. I sip my coffee, letting the Old Alex
Krycek ice up my blood.

"House titles are public record, young man. I looked you up at the county
court house. I tried this address first as it's the newer one. Tell me, why
did you leave your secluded little cabin for this big, public house? I'm sure
you can hide your perversions better up there."

"You're right, but Shannon's going to be going to school soon. Can't live an
hour away from school, you know. So, we moved." Another sip of my
coffee.

"And why such a *big* home?"

"That's enough," Walter says. "Shannon, sweetie, go on upstairs and wash up.
Get dressed and put a bag together."

"With what?" she asks. I can see the look on her face, the feelings of
rejection are bubbling up.

"Oh, some books or something. Alex, call Katya to come get her today, OK?"

"It's Sunday, Walter, she's in church now," he says.

"That's right. Damn it. Shannon, can we talk to Mrs. Purcell alone for a
while?" She nods and walks to the door. "Hey, Princess, come here." I'm
surprised when Walter uses the nickname he gave her years ago. He doesn't
much use it anymore, and she doesn't answer to it. She walks over to him and
allows him to pick her up and hug her tight. I almost expect her to stay
limp. Her little arms come around his neck and she squeezes him back. "I
love you, Princess. We're going to make sure you have the best home, OK?"

"This is my home," she says quietly.

"That's right," I say, tickling her foot. I love her little squeal. "Go on,
get dressed while we fight over you."

She smiles and he puts her down to go to her room. We turn back to Vivilynn
who is sitting there, hands folded in her lap and ankles primly crossed
beneath her. I take my coffee over and sit across from her at the dining
table. Sarah chose a really nice table for the kitchen, I think to myself
while I consider what to say. "OK, Viv..."

"Perky. They call me Perky." She says this with a little bit of venom.

"Perky Purcell? Explains a lot. Anyway, look, the will explicitly states we
have full custody of Shannon. Our lawyers have written an ironclad custody
order. You don't want to go against me, lady. Unless you want to give me the
four million you owe me."

"I still don't know where you came up with this figure." She sips her coffee.

"We bought the house just for Shannon, since it's got three floors and four
bathrooms. She's on a totally different floor than we are, so no one can walk
in on anyone accidentally." I will not mention the interrupted bath last
night. I'm going to get that stick-on doorbell thing that will chime when she
opens the door. "Redecorating the house was almost a million dollars, all new
furniture. We wanted a lot of room for the dogs, too. Where the hell are the
dogs?" I ask.

No sooner do I say that than I hear three sets of barks coming from the stairs.
Shannon must have locked them in her room all night, poor things. Shannon is
following behind them, wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. Bosco and Honey are
on point, barking at Vivilynn who has now stood from the chair and holds it in
front of her in defense. I notice that Taffy has stood back, not barking, but
not letting Shannon any closer to the new person. Walter comes over and
starts quieting everyone, shoving dogs out the sliding glass doors onto the
patio. He closes the door on them, sending Shannon with them, which quiets
them a little.

"I'm sorry, Perky," he says. "They're Labradors, very intelligent but fiercely
protective. The quiet one is Shannon's dog. If you want her, the dog goes
with her."

"I've had dogs in my home before, Mr. Skinner. I didn't always live in a large
home, comparable to this, I must tell you. We started on a farm. This is
just a formality, a courtesy call. You will be hearing from my legal team
about contesting the will and the custody arrangement. Be prepared."

She stands and begins to walk to the door. I stand up, scraping the chair on
our tile floor to make her turn around. "If you ever come into our home
unannounced again, you'll be carried out feet first."

She sniffs at the air and turns to leave, letting herself out. "Vlad, call the
Gunmen, I want them here today. I can't believe we didn't even lock the door
last night." That's the unbelievable part, that even I forgot to lock the
door. Walter comes to sit with me at the table and we just look at each other
for while. I put my hand flat on the table and he covers it with his.

"This is the test, Vlad. Whether we can hack it or not." He strokes my cheek.

"I know, Sasha. I'll call the lawyers, you call the Gunmen. Tell Byers and
Langly they can sleep in their own room together. We are going to prove to
Shannon and the world that we are better parents than they think fags are."
I'm a little shocked he used that word. He never says things like that. This
isn't a normal situation, though.

"We'll live. We've been through worse."

"Yeah, all revolving around this damn family."

"Why does that keep haunting us?" I ask him. He just shakes his head. "We'll
be OK."

Calls are made and the Gunmen are more than happy to come and wire the house.
They always seem to be available when we need them. The three of us spend the
day working on the pool, with Katya coming by to offer support. She balks
when I insist we don't need her physical help. "Alex, I worked very hard at
the convent. I scrubbed floors and washed walls before."

She's come dressed in knee-length jeans and a pretty pink t-shirt with little
white sneakers. She could be any woman. I'm so amazed by my sister's
integration into the world outside the convent. I know Anabelle had a lot to
do with it. I keep meaning to call her and just...spend time with her, but I
never do. I wonder if she regrets leaving the convent.

We get on our hands and knees, all four of us, scrubbing the inside of the
pool. It's only dirty, so we can start filling it soon. Katya elects to stay
with me scrubbing while Walter, in a rare moment of family togetherness, takes
Shannon to the pool center in town to get the supplies we'll need for the
upkeep. While I'm rinsing the rest of the soap and dirt down the drain, Katya
asks, "So are you guys settling in well?"

"Yeah, moving day was yesterday. Last night was our first night, and of
course, this lady petitions us for the kid's custody." Walter and I had
filled Katya in on the morning's activities.

"I want you to know, I will be more than happy to speak on your behalf if it
comes down to it." I just sit back and look at her. She's the most generous
woman in the world, and I love her. I can't help but climb out of the pool
and hug her tight. She accepts me and lets me squeeze her. Oh, she feels so
good to me, now.

"I want you to know, I've already started Shannon's admission papers for school
and I will be teaching math to her and I'll be her homeroom teacher. I will
take the best care of her. I promise."

"I know you will. Why would we worry?" I set the hose to start filling the
pool and we go into the house to start lunch. I want to grill and surprise
Walter. We have hamburgers and hotdogs going when they get back, which
becomes a hit. After roasting corn and baking frozen fries, we retire to the
den where Katya enjoys a night of watching Cinderella with us, as she's not
seen it since she was a girl. At the end of the night, she doesn't leave too
late, but stays long enough to help Shannon say her prayers, which is
something Walter and I should consider now, going to church with Shannon.
We'll have to talk to her to see if she wants to start going to Katya's
church. Anabelle was southern Baptist.

We fall into bed that night and don't even consider making love. I do curl up
into him, which makes him pull me against him. He kisses me again before
dropping off to sleep.

*-*-*-*

I go to meet with Bruce and Jane the next morning. Jane has been my attorney
since I was divorcing Sharon. She married another lawyer in her firm and left
to have their kids, but still consults in her spare time. With the kids in
high school now, she's decided to make our legal case her crusade.

"I spoke with her lawyer..."

"How did you know who's representing her?" I ask. It feels weird to be sitting
in a suit and tie again in a business office, but at the same time, I feel at
home again.

"Walter, this is Vivilynn Purcell. Her husband was the land developer, Harlan
Purcell. Harl and Perky?" I'm oblivious. Land developers never impressed
me. "I can't believe you don't know them."

"Unless one of my teams tracked them down and arrested them, I have no idea who
they are." I'm not joking either.

"Well, she has a lot of cash behind her. Harlan left her everything. She then
redesigned the Purcell foundation to write out Anabelle. Fortunately for you,
we knew this when we put the custody agreement together. There's nothing they
can do to get her. We're going to meet with them next week, and I don't want
you to worry about it."

Worry? Why would I worry? These are two people who I've trusted for two
decades. I shake their hands and go home to Alex with the good news, which
gets me a big kiss. Shannon, is somehow, oblivious to all this, spending the
afternoon in the yard with the dogs. Alex and I spend the day putting the
books into the shelves in the den. After that, I pretty much forget about
Perky Purcell and her bid to be Grandma.

I should never ignore what isn't there. I've gotten old, soft and senile. Of
course, I get a call one morning from Jane who has just gotten out of a
hearing that I didn't know I needed to attend, and neither did Jane. "She's
got a review of the custody order I wrote up. They aren't going to make a
decision for ninety days. They denied her temporary custody petition."

I sigh in relief. "OK, good. I want a meeting with them. I want us, with
Shannon, and them. Mediated, but I want to find some kind of middle ground.
This kid just lost her mother, she doesn't need a custody war."

"What?" comes her little voice from behind us. She walks in and has one of her
adult moments. "If Grandma wants me so bad, you better just give me to her.
She always gets her way. Momma says that's how Granddad died; he was trying
to make her happy." I hang up with Jane and turn my full attention to
Shannon.

Alex picks her up and sits her on the counter. "We're not giving you to
anyone, Petal."

"You aren't something to just give away. You're not a toy or a TV. You're our
little girl. We don't want to give you away. I want to keep you. Don't you
know that?"

She looks down at her lap. "But...I'm a girl."

"Yeah, my girl. I remember when you were born. Princess, I wished you were
mine."

"Why didn't you ever have a baby?" she asks. I'm fighting not to cry, but just
let it flow. She's going to see it eventually.

With tears rolling down my cheeks, I tell her the story of being in the
Marines, at war in Vietnam and being shot and killed. She starts crying
herself, but lets me finish that I was brought back but couldn't father
children from my injuries. "Because you were supposed to wait for me." I
don't expect what she's saying, and just start bawling outright. She hugs me
tight and we're not aware of Alex, crying as well, going to answer the
doorbell. It's Vivilynn.

"Walter, I'd like to have Shannon come and stay with me a few days. Would that
be alright?" She has that sweet, innocent twang in her voice that can only
mean trouble. I send Shannon outside to find the dogs.

"No, I'm sorry, you can't." I take a moment to wipe my face with a napkin.
"If we let you take her with you, we'll never get her back. And that's the
point, isn't it? You're still punishing your daughter even though she's dead.
She didn't become exactly like you wanted, so you'll spite her by taking her
daughter and making Shannon into the little girl that you wanted Anabelle to
be. And that's not going to happen."

"No, I want Shannon to be raised in a Christian home. I don't think two...men
like yourselves can provide that."

"My sister teaches at Shannon's school. It's an Episcopalian school, connected
to the church we attend. My sister used to be a Catholic nun. Lady, we got
Shannon's life covered."

Shannon has returned and crawled into Alex's arms. He's holding her tightly.
"It seems that I'm not going to have a willing child on my hands am I?" she
admits.

(Continued in part 3)