Our heroine makes plans for a future trip to the past. She meets with her magazine publisher, Mr. Hefner, and sees the harm May Lee's sister Anna endured at the hands of her tormentors. Joanie gets in contact with PBS, who go all NOVA on her. She tells a bad Bill and Ted joke. The clever minx wants to get on This Old House -- part of the hide-in-plain-sight plan. Oh, She also buys a truck, a piece of cake, right? Poor Mr. Ford.

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Andy Warhol said,"In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes." What if your 15 minutes came late in life, and fame decided to never let you go? Could you survive the circus your life would become?

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Timeout 3-Continuous play: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out either Sapphire's Place,

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html) or the Big Closet (http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/taxonomy/term/117)."

Another chapter in part three of my TG/sci-fi/superhero/magic and the whole nine yards epic. I’m much better now than when I started this, though comma useage is still confusing; ask Itinerant. Your constructive criticism and advice always helps. This is an exercise in the joys of creativity and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Any violations of copyright, trade mark or use of real people or incidents are purely for purposes of humor or parody and done solely for the free enjoyment of the reading public. All rights reserved in perpetuity, John from Wauwatosa WI, 2005-2006.

Adult content advisory: this chapter deals with home renovation and buying a truck, and may not be suitable for younger readers but if you’ve read my stuff you know it’s not graphic and is often silly but you were warned. And there is some adult content too, so be warned.

Timeout 3

By John from Wauwatosa
Prose primping by Itinerant
Proofing perfected by Janet Nolan

Chapter 10- Origins 1, The New New Avengers 4, Mommy Dearest 1, 4X4- Does That, Ah, Mean My IQ’s Like, 16?, Home Improvement 4

Whateley Academy Dunwich, Berlin NH, Washington DC, April 19, 2007

April 19, 2007

I met with Mr. Lodgeman early Thursday morning, and we agreed to eight AM Friday, the 20th for the ‘research trip’ Operations requested. The planned routes were marked in Diggers Hot Line flags, and spray paint, which made it easy for us to pick our vantage points for the ‘trip.’ The roof of Administration was one point, as were the roofs of Poe and Emerson Halls. These provided excellent views of campus, and of the several mystical trouble spots that concerned the Princes of Plumbing, Stan and Morrie. In the short time I’d known them I’d come to love their odd humor, and workman’s common sense. They loved working at Whateley, and took their jobs seriously. If they didn’t, they could soon wind up dead, or worse. At Whateley, that’s not merely a figure of speech, but a serious possibility.

There are things deep under Whateley that defy description, and should best remain deep under Whateley. If we uncovered anything truly dangerous, the staff magic experts, with assistance from Sara Waite and Nikki Reilly, would handle the problem. I was leery of students being involved, but Nikki is hardly an amateur when it comes to magic, or the other realms. I understand her mutation is such that her DNA’s not human anymore. Sara Waite may look like a teen, but is in her mid-twenties; as a half demon she is quite capable of taking care of herself. I still worry though; she’s been like this less than a year, less time than I’ve been a girl. I’d hate for something bad to happen to her; I’d lose those remarkable dreams I have of her and… I’d miss her. I remain pleasantly surprised Whateley trusts me for this work, but one of the mages said it best.

“We can divine, conjure, and remote view all day and night, but it’s your ability to observe the moment the magic was used that makes our plans for dealing with it so much better. Your being an outside observer, in that you’re not a magic user, gives us insights we might otherwise miss. There is always the risk that those originally using the magic would detect our presence if we traveled with you. Charlie’s been around long enough he knows how to conceal his powers, and you're so odd they wouldn’t believe you're there, even if they detected you, Joanie. You could stand there naked, and they wouldn’t notice you; well, they’d notice you, but they wouldn’t complain.”

I snickered at his joke.

“Your looks work to our advantage; even if spotted, most would assume you’re there to visit a boyfriend. They see the gorgeous girl and dismiss you as harmless. Joanie, you and Charlie make a good team; seeing how well you work with him tells me you would have fit in the Mystic Six quite well. With you added to the mix, they would have had to rename it the Mystic Seven, which doesn’t sound as cool.”

A particularly troublesome spot was a small clearing in a grove, or copse, of trees near Emerson Hall. An auxiliary transformer vault/superconductor storage cell for that section of campus was to be buried there for esthetic and engineering reasons. Powerful and surprisingly recent magic permeated the area, and Operations needed to know the source. I’d reviewed the security logs for the times in question, but no mention of any incident was recorded. Nothing of note was visible in the sensor or CCTV tapes either. I’d considered asking Chief Delarose about this, but he’d been so helpful with Anna’s investigation and with Pinky’s earlier, I didn’t feel like bothering him. The mages who scanned the site felt it was the remnants of the magic equivalent of an explosion, possibly more than one, but it was confusing and difficult to read. With a good date and time for the event that caused it, we should get to the source of the problem.

I had a class that morning at nine, but was called into Administration instead. Ms Hartford was at her desk, efficient and imperious as ever, but she did treat me with respect.

“Joanie, Ms Carson will see you immediately, and says you’re excused from all other activities for the day.”

“Sounds important, can I have a clue, Ms Hartford?”

“That’s, 'may I have a clue, Ms Hartford?', and no, you may not, Ms Brown. You’ll find out soon enough.” she said, and I swore she stifled a laugh.

I walked into Ms Carson’s office, and was immediately pounced on by a familiar oriental college girl, May Lee. May gave me a brief hug, too brief as it felt wonderful, then she flashed me an electric smile when we broke. Then Ms Carson came up and gave me a motherly hug, in part to conceal her whispering to me.

“Don’t be alarmed at Anna’s appearance. I’ve spoken with her, and she is every bit the smart, sweet girl we were led to believe. I’ve told medical to cooperate, so anything she needs that we can do, she gets. Your only duty is to help Anna, Joanie, for as long as you’re needed,” Ms Carson whispered.

“Joanie, it’s great to see you. These persons are two of Playboy's senior editors, plus Mr. Hefner whom you’ve met, and this is my dear sister, Anna,” said May Lee.

I turned and smiled at her younger sister. I knew what to expect, but was horrified at her appearance. The criminals who had drugged her, and manipulated her into doing ultra hardcore pornography had done a number on her face and body. I could feel the disgust, and indignation, rising within me. I held it together, and gave her a warm hug.

“I’m so happy you could come; I promise we’ll do our best to make you feel comfortable,” I said.

I was about to say more, but stopped when Mr. Hefner motioned to me.

“Before we review your photos and interviews, I must say they surprised me. I’d anticipated something special, but you exceeded our expectations in all respects, Joanie. The cameras loved you, and your interviews were interesting and amusing, though I realize you had to withhold some information to protect friends and family. I am confident that this will be our best issue in years, and it’s all due to you, my dear.”

“This worshiping the strawberry blond goddess is beginning to wear thin, with all due respect, Mr. Hefner. It’s not that I mind some praise now and then, but this much makes me uncomfortable. I’d like to take Anna and May Lee someplace private so we can talk, that’s unless we’re needed here. As to any editorial decisions that are needed, I trust Ms Carson to protect my interests. She knows better than I do what’s safe to reveal and what’s not. Is there anything I haven’t covered, or may we go now?” I asked then smiled. “Do me a favor, and ease up on stroking my ego; my head's big enough as it is,” I said, then snickered.

“Of course, Joanie. I do like to ‘pump up’ our models; a happy model makes for better photos, but I was honest. Yours are the most outstanding pictures I’ve seen since a certain woman graced our publication some four decades ago. We’re already getting inquiries from TV and film producers. I’ve passed copies of the interviews, and photo shoots, on to several of the most reputable people I know and trust, and you may be hearing from them,” replied Mr. Hefner.

“You think I should be an actress? I’ve only been a girl less than a year, and I look like Little Annie Fannie,” I protested, and stuck a resolute pose.

Mr. Hefner laughed, and then I saw myself in a mirror on Ms Carson’s wall. I stared back at the image; I may have thought I looked resolute, what I saw looking back at me was this confident, sexually desirable woman; she was magnificent. I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone as desirable as this exquisite creature. Then I giggled and the spell was broken -- a laughing, happy teenager was grinning back at me. I got silly, and thrust my chest out; I turned while looking at my reflection.

“My Ghod, I’d meant that as a joke, but I could be any of them, from cartoon pinup fantasies like Daisy Yokum of Little Abner, to real actresses in their prime like Sophia Loren in Houseboat. Hell, l could be an Austin Powers fembot with these weapons,” I said as I pointed my chest at the mirror like they were twin guns.

I kept making different faces, and expressions, in the mirror, and it dawned on me, I looked every bit as good as the actresses I’d lusted after as a teen. Damn, I was better looking than most of them, and that was without expert makeup artists and lighting. I turned to face Mr. Hefner.

“You’re serious about this?” I said placing my hands on my hips unconsciously.

“That’s proof enough. You’re absolutely convincing as a woman, it’s as if you never were a male. I’m not saying you come off as some girly-girl type. My talk with you, and the interviews, showed a strong willed young woman, confident in herself, and joyously embracing her new life. Most of the professional interview required little editing, you came off so smooth and polished. I’ve listened to the recordings of the Prairie Home Companion broadcast you were on, and you were flawless with everything, not just the singing. I called them, and they confirm you went on the air with no rehearsal, and had to read your scripts cold. It would take little effort on your part to be a fine actress, and you have something no young actress has, nearly fifty years of life experience.” He said convincingly.

“I’ll consider it, but for now let’s say I’m doubtful, if you will excuse me.”

~~Me an actress? When pigs fly, but it’s a nice dream. ~~

* * * *

The editors, Mr. Hefner, and Ms Carson left for a conference room while I escorted the girls to my dorm. We spoke as we walked.

“Be honest with me May Lee, was he on the level?” I asked.

“He’s been raving about you for days, Joanie. I talked with some of his longtime staff, and they say he hasn’t been this excited over a new model in years. I saw some of the photos, and you’re glowing in them. The combination of teenage innocence and sensuality is mesmerizing. How did you do it?” May asked.

“It was my cycle. I was days from my period, and my libido was through the roof. I wasn’t glowing, I was in heat, meower!” I said, and then snickered.

The sisters laughed, and smiled, and I could see Anna relax. We entered my room

“I’d have taken you to a room in campus security, I’m an auxiliary officer, but I felt you’d be more comfortable here.”

“You live in a linen storeroom?” Anna asked incredulously, as she’d seen the plaque on my door.

“A converted linen storeroom, with my two roomies. George, Gracie, meet the nice ladies,” I said, and the smilodons walked over, and sniffed the ladies cautiously.

They quickly recognized May Lee, and rubbed happily against her long legs. Anna opened up at the sight of my kitties.

“May, you weren’t lying when you said she had a pair of sabertooths; living smilodons! How did you get them, Joanie? They’ve been extinct since the end of the last ice age! I know this, I was planning to be a biology major before …”

Anna fought to hold back her tears. I could see what May Lee meant; Anna was an exquisite beauty despite the piercing scars, tattoos, and ludicrous breast implants. Her spirit was my biggest concern; I could see the stress in her face and eyes. She had a haunted, distant look not unlike that of those pictures of POWs, and concentration camp survivors as the end of WWII. Here was a woman whose youth, beauty, and dreams were stolen from her. I’d had youth, beauty, and the opportunity to live out any dream I wished handed to me on an orichalchum platter. It didn’t seem fair. A part of my mind was getting very angry.

“You’ll get back to college, Anna. If not in the California system, then Wisconsin and Iowa have great public Universities. It might be good for your peace of mind to stay away from southern California for a while, and it would be a chance to start over fresh. I have friends in both states that can help -- good friends you can trust -- and I will help, pretty lady,” I said.

She started to cry, and turn away. I gently touched her, and turned her back to face us. She turned away as soon as I let her go.

“I mean it, Anna. I have contacts in Madison through the University Hospital, and the local mutant group, MSG. In Des Moines, I’m friends with the Governor’s family. I also work part-time for a major charitable organization, The Meridian Foundation; I’m sure they’d help. Don’t let your appearance make you turn away, Anna. Please let me see you, let me see what they did to you. Don’t be ashamed of what you are; you were cruelly deceived, and it is not your fault.”

Her sister nodded her agreement, and Anna disrobed to her bra and panties. I could see several large tattoos on her back, and when she turned to face us, I could see how out of proportion and unnatural her breasts appeared. Her waist seemed unnaturally small and long; I suspected that they had shortened or removed some of her ribs. When she took off the rest, I was not prepared for the prominent scars, discoloration, and uneven appearance of her breasts, or the garish dragon tattoo circling one of them. They did not hang naturally, and the nipples were not in the normal place. The signs of healing piercings in ‘other places’ I will not describe in detail, other than it disgusted me. Anna was being brave, but tears ran down her face. I noticed that only some of her makeup ran.

~~Shit, I think they gave her permanent makeup. Thank Ghod it’s not too garish, but still. ~~

“I’m not a fan of piercings, or tattoos, though to each his or her own. I was squeamish getting my ears pierced, and only one per ear, thank you very much. If someone truly wants it, fine, it’s their body; who am I to judge? To use drugs and brainwashing to manipulate someone to agree to mutilate themselves.... I’m so sorry for you, Anna. I’ll help you to get your body put right somehow; those sick people won’t win. You can get dressed, and I’ll take you to Medical for an evaluation,” I said as I fought to keep my outrage in check.

Anna looked apprehensive; May gave her hand a squeeze.

“Don’t worry, these doctors are the best. They deal with a variety of medical needs no normal hospital ever deals with, and I trust them. They will do their best for you as they did for me after a vicious beating I took some time back. I have nothing but respect for them, and Dr. Polland’s one sexy ex-Australian,” I said and blushed.

I think some other signs of arousal made themselves obvious because next May asked, “Joanie, are you and the doctor, um?”

“No, I react to good looking men. I mean that I react to handsome men BIG time; it’s embarrassing, but fun. I think I’ve single handily boosted the Whateley store’s profits from all the panty-liners I buy. You ladies must remember that physically I’m a 17 year old girl, with all the privileges and hormones, that go with it. My 48 plus years of male memories don’t always help matters. If the old me was here, he’d have a painfully stiff one by now; you’re still a desirable woman, Anna. Damn, I think I need to change this liner, I’m so aroused. When you’re back in fighting trim girl, I shudder to think what might happen.”

Anna blushed, and gave me a gentle peek on the cheek in thanks. I stopped by the girl’s bathroom to change my liner, and we chatted about Whateley in general on our walk to Medical.

* * * *

“We’ll do our best to help you, Anna. Ms. Carson said to treat you like family, and we will. We like a challenge, and this is a great opportunity to apply some new techniques we’ve developed. Don’t worry, you’re no guinea pig. All you need to do is answer any question we ask you as completely, and truthfully, as you can, and help us get you well. Did you bring the photos from just before all this happened, and your college entrance physical exam records?” inquired Dr. Polland.

May Lee handed the doctors several packets.

“These will be invaluable in restoring your appearance. Also your measurements and clothing sizes from before are useful too. Security is tracking down copies from your last to your earliest known porn shoots and films, not only as evidence, but as an additional guide to your appearance before and between the surgeries, drugs, and tattoos. This, and our exams, will determine how we can best treat you to restore your original appearance. It’s often easiest, and best, to work backwards in undoing unwanted cosmetic surgeries,” Dr. Pollard continued.

“Don’t either of you worry about the expense, the school can write off some as a charitable act. Any expenses not covered by that, a lovely young woman has agreed to take care of. That includes all costs of your sister staying with you, doesn’t it, Joanie,” said Dr. Poland smirking.

“You’re paying for me -- for both of us? May said that Playboy is paying you over two million, and you’re giving it all to the school,” Anna almost shrieked.

“It’s not that much; I have loads of income; my singing has proved most profitable. How I can stand idly by when I can help in some way? My friends in Security and outside of Whateley are assisting in investigating the people that hurt you. I promise we will get justice for you, and others they must have harmed. I’m sorry if I sounded pompous there, Anna; it’s just people like that infuriate me. Did you want May Lee or me to stay with you during your tests? Ms. Carson said I was yours as long as I was needed,” I said in a soft voice.

“No, you can go, Joanie, my sister will be fine. I promise I’ll pay you back for your kindness,” Anna replied and came close to me.

“I don’t know if you like girls, but they taught me how to please a woman. You’re so beautiful; if you don’t want money, would you take me instead?” Anna whispered seductively, but I could sense the conflict in her offer.

“Dear woman, if you could make that offer freely I’d treasure it, but that’s the programming affecting your thinking. You have no need to be embarrassed by it. If at the end of everything, you honestly desire me, I’d be flattered. Not everyone is a slime ball like those people who betrayed you. It will take a while for you to learn to trust again, and when that day comes, I will rejoice.

“Help someone else in the future; that will be payment enough. That sounds like a line out of an old Hollywood tearjerker, doesn’t it? Let’s say I can help, so I’m helping and leave it at that, Anna,” I said, and smiled.

“I still can’t get over I’m on a first name basis with you. May Lee’s helping me to catch up on everything I missed when they were controlling me; I was out of it most of the time from the drugs, and other… I don’t know how you do it girl, um Joanie … oh, you know,” said Anna.

“I don’t know either, Anna. It’s been a crazy nine months. If you think all that’s in the press is crazy, I’ll let you in on a secret, I have a boyfriend, and he’s a hunk. Promise you won’t tell anyone,” I said with a giggle, and a pout.

“If you can go from a middle-aged guy to a happy, husband-hunting girl in nine months, I can fight to be me again. I don’t have near as far to go. My sister was right about you, Joanie. You are the prettiest, and nicest, young woman. May says a girl you saved goes to school here, can I meet her?” Anna asked.

"Sure, I eat with Suzy every day, usually at breakfast and dinner, sometimes lunch. May Lee knows my favorite table in the Crystal Hall, if you break in time for the 11 AM lunch period, stop on by. If you need me, Whateley security can page me day and night; I carry a special cell phone/radio. You can also reach me through my friend Pinky; May Lee, you met her at the Crystal hall along with my other school friends. Pinky can almost always track me down, she’s like my little sister. Excuse me; I need to make some phone calls," I said before leaving them.

* * * *

“United States Senator Joseph Williams of Iowa’s office. How may I help you?” asked the telephone receptionist.

“How do you say that in one breath? I’m impressed,” I asked.

“It takes practice,” she said, and chuckled softly.

“May I speak with the Senator? Tell him it’s Joanie from Whateley.”

“Joanie, the Senator left word with all his staff that if a young woman called and mentioned Whateley to put her through immediately, no questions. He’s in conference, but I’ll get him. Before I do, Ms. Brown, I must thank you for saving his granddaughter. I don’t know how he’d have taken it if she’d died, and I’ve worked for him nearly twenty years; my mom and his late wife were friends. I do know he holds you as dear to his heart as his own daughter. Did you know he has a framed press photo of you holding his granddaughter tight as you’re running out from in front of that truck? It’s on his desk next to a photo of his late wife holding their newborn baby. The man has nominated you for a Carnegie Hero award, dear lady. Hold on … Senator, its Whateley,” she called out.

“Joanie how pleasant to hear from you, how may I help you?” asked Senator Joe warmly.

I heard the love in his voice, and felt my arousal returning. I snapped my legs tight together, fought back the urge to play with myself, and spoke.

“You think I only call for help? Well I do, sorry. I’m not interrupting anything important am I, Senator Joe?” I apologized and giggled slightly.

“It’s the party chairman, and the President Pro tempore; they can wait,” Joe replied.

“I need a couple favors. I need to call Judge Juday for some legal advice regarding Ms. Pinky Connors,” I said.

“You’re a softy, Joanie. You’re thinking her Mom has repudiated her daughter, and her father’s too busy traveling around, and trolling for women. Pinky needs a mother, and you’re volunteering,” he said.

“I wish it were otherwise, but the more I think on it the more it seems the best course of action. I intend to try to broker a reunion between her Mom and her, but I doubt I’ll succeed. I need a fall-back position. Pinky made her Mom look a fool, or worse, in the eyes of the court. That, combined with her Mom’s anti-mutant beliefs, makes the task difficult. She’s a wonderful child at a vulnerable age; she needs stability,” I replied.

“As to how stable your mind is, Joanie, I have my doubts,” he said with a chuckle, “but as to your compassion, I have none. To do this properly you’ll need witnesses, and will have to stop by Judge Juday’s chambers first, but it can be done, Mommy. That’s the first favor; what’s the other?” asked Joe.

“Do you have any reliable contacts in California’s justice system, or in Northern Mexico? I may need subpoenas for a case I’m assisting.”

“I have several trustworthy friends, Mrs. Peel,” he said, and laughed.

“Not you, too, Senator Joe? You fancy you're John Steed?”

“I may be sixty, but I still enjoy looking at a lovely woman. I spoke with my daughter the other day, and Joanie, may I have, um.…”

“An autographed copy of the July Playboy? I’m beginning to regret posing. Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. Speaking of women you’d like to see naked, how are you and Dr. Sara getting on?” I asked.

“We, well, I …”

“You haven’t yet? You’re both fools. She’s brilliant, attractive, funny, has a mutant’s constitution, is nearly your age but is still a fertile woman, and she makes a great living. You must have impossible standards if she’s not good enough for you. What are you waiting for, mister? Next Senate recess, you fly out to Madison, and romance her. Better yet, you give her a damn good screwing. I want to hear her screams of joy, and that’s an order, soldier!” I said, and I giggled.

“My Ghod, did I just order you to have sex? I’m serious Joe, you’re a good man, she’s one of the finest women I know, and you both deserve someone like each other. Ask her out before it’s too late. She thinks you're handsome, charming, and a hopeless romantic for having not remarried after your young wife’s death. You’ve mourned long enough. Please ask her out, for me?” I said.

So I was laying it on thick. Though Sara hadn’t said all that, she’d implied much of it. They made a good match, and it felt right, somehow.

“I’ll let you know about what subpoenas I need and when. I need your most trustworthy contacts; the people we’re after are reputed drug money launderers, child sex slavers, and murderers. Discretion is everything.”

“I will do my best, Joanie. I think Dr. Sara is a lovely woman, too. Don’t forget the magazine.”

“I won’t, you pervert. Don’t you forget our Doctor Sara.”

* * * *

I had lunch with my friends; unfortunately Anna’s tests were more involved than I thought, so introductions would have to wait. I stopped by Administration after lunch to talk with Ms Carson. Tina let me in as Ms. Hartford was on break. Tina led me to a conference room where the editors, plus Mr. Hefner, and Ms. Carson were busy sorting through photos.

“Joanie, are you here to review your photos?” Mr. Hefner asked.

"No, as I said earlier, I’m sure anything Ms. Carson agrees to is in good taste, and protects the other students and staff. I wonder if any of you have contacts in public television. I was hoping the This Old House folks would be interested in my project.”

“You’re building a home near Whateley, Joanie?” asked Mr. Hefner.

“I’m moving in for the long haul, my linen closet is hardly suitable to raise a family in,” I said.

“Wouldn’t showing it on TV be contrary to your intention to remain anonymous here?” asked Ms. Carson,

“This is part of ‘a good offense is often the best defense’, or however the old saw goes. Word of my residence here will eventually get out, as will the fact I’m at Whateley. The trick is to control what gets out, and when, and thus confuse the enemy. I won’t be lying so much as letting the bad guys imaginations get the better of them. If they see how well my home is protected from intruders and attack, most threats will be scared off. The few stupid and persistent enough to locate me will have faulty reconnaissance to rely on. I will have numerous, nasty surprises waiting for them, I assure you. I care little for my property, but for my friends I will spare no expense,” I said with deliberation.

“Joanie, it can’t be anything intended to kill, or maim,” said Ms. Carson in a serious tone of voice, and looking worried.

“You mean lethal electric fences, claymore mines, and automated machine gun nests are not legal here? They let you have them in Texas. Does this mean the zoning board won’t let me put in the tank traps, how petty,” I said, and snickered.

Ms. Carson relaxed, and so did her guests.

“Joanie has a wicked sense of humor, and she uses it to fool people into underestimating her. I see the validity of your plan, dear, providing they don’t give any clues to your whereabouts, or that of Whateley, I approve of the TV appearance. I’m sure Mr. Hefner could provide you a PBS contact, but I can do that one better. I know the producer of a NOVA special on mutants, a multipart series intend to kick off the fall 2007 TV season. I’ve been interviewed for it as have several others you know, Dr. Sara of Madison, and Dr. Otto of ARC being among them. They wanted you too, Joanie,” she said.

“They wanted me? Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“You were extremely busy at the time; they called the day you left on your Easter weekend trip. I’d intended to pass the message on to you. After the excitement of the cold water rescue, and your involvement with your fellow students and their difficulties, on top of the Playboy shoot, I begged off on your behalf. They said if the situation changed to call them. Give me a moment,” she asked me, then picked up the phone

She dialed, and in minutes was talking to the producer. She explained about my home projects, and that perhaps we could work out a deal.

“Yes, she’s here now … You are? … Yes that could work; I’ll put her on,” said Ms. Carson switching to speaker phone.

“Joanie here, how may I help you?”

“Ms. Carson said you have a proposition for us, a remodeling project?” said the voice on the phone.

“I bought a farm, and I intend to rehab the farm house, and do a conversion of the timber frame barn into my own home, complete with a basement, and special security features. Would This Old House be interested?” I offered.

“It sound interesting, but our production budget and schedule are set for the fiscal year. There is a chance we could work something out, but it’s difficult. How soon are you starting?” the voice asked.

“As soon as I can get a crew together; Whateley Operations is putting together an engineering survey as we speak. I intend to use both conventional and beyond the state of the art methods, and they’ve offer to help. I’m not looking for a handout; I’m paying for everything out of pocket. I think your viewers would be interested,” I said.

“We could do several visits; a tour of a celebrity’s home is always popular. I tell you what, you do us a big favor, and I’ll guarantee the TOH people are out there ASAP. We’ll find the time and money somewhere. Please host, and narrate, our NOVA special on mutants, Joanie,” the producer on the phone begged.

“Me? You want me to host? I thought you wanted to interview me about my mutation? Why not Dr. Otto, my own Dr. Sara of Madison, or Ms. Carson, she’d be great,” I answered.

“We asked their opinions, and they all said the same thing -- ask Joanie, she’d be perfect,” the producer stated.

“I’ll admit I’m recognizable to the public, but I’m no expert on mutants. You tell me why I’m so perfect for these duties,” I said, putting the producer on the defensive.

“That’s roughly what they said to us. You were an average middle-aged man less than one year ago, and now you're one of the most recognizable women on the planet, both for your vocal talents and your heroic rescues of the two girls. Who better to symbolize the positive, and negative, aspects of becoming a mutant? That you have a pretty face, attractive body, and sultry voice doesn’t hurt. The hosting segments could be filmed in a handful of days, possibly over a couple weekends, if that helps accommodate your schooling, and Whateley’s needs. Much of it is ‘green screen’, or Chromakey, segments. The narration could be done at Whateley; all we need is a soundproof room, and sufficient space to set up a HD-DVD playback system, and a sound board for the recording engineer. We might wish to shoot some sequences using Whateley, or your new home project, as backgrounds, subject to Ms. Carson’s, and your, approval. This is a landmark for us, the first big science documentary we’ve done on mutants. Don’t you want to be a part of history?” the producer cajoled me.

Why it happened, I don’t know, but suddenly everything was so funny. One word set me off, history.

“A part of history? Gentlemen, we’re history!” I said, and mimed putting on a pair of way cool shades, then started giggling.

Soon Ms. Carson joined in, and we broke into uncontrolled laughter. She recovered first; I was still giggling steadily.

“It’s an inside joke, something you said about history,” she said, I giggled harder. “You wouldn’t understand, but we, that is Joanie, agrees, don’t you?” she asked, and I nodded, while continuing to giggle. “She agrees. Contact me with the particulars ASAP, and thanks. You’ve made Joanie very happy,” she said, and hung up the speakerphone, while I continued to giggle sporadically.

“What was all that laughing about?” asked Mr. Hefner.

“Ms. Carson, explain … still ... catching breath,” I panted and kept snickering.

~~If he only knew I time travel; I’ve not only seen history, to paraphrase Rufus, ‘I’m history’. I think I’ve seen Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure too many times. ~~

“This is a trifle delicate; could I have a word with you in private, Hef dear?” Ms. Carson said.

They walked off by themselves, while the editors showed me some of the photos they’d chosen. I’d done some photography in my life, and occasionally got great shots, but these were mind blowing. I’d seen some of the test shots, and early proofs, these were finished, touched up, color-corrected, and cropped to perfection. I looked, wow!

“How much did you have to tweak these to make them look so good?”

“Hardly any; we simply cropped them for the best image, and made sure the colors were correct. We used no airbrush, or Photoshop, magic on your body. In the old days the airbrush artist would have worked overtime to tone down those ‘bullets’ of yours, but the natural look is in these days, and it would be a sacrilege to hide your full range of expression,” an editor said.

“In other words I look hotter than a pistol.”

“Crude, but accurate, Joanie, how did you manage to look so young and innocent, yet sexy and um, eager? We’re baffled, and grateful.”

“Ask May Lee and Anna; I explained it to them. It was all me though, I didn’t fake anything.” I said then giggled.

~~Boy, ah, girl, am I in a happy mood. ~~

Moments later Ms. Carson, and Mr. Hefner, returned. He looked at me with wonder in his eyes, and a hint of sadness.

“Ms. Carson explained why you two laughed earlier. I understand why you laughed, and also why it must remain private. Joanie, before you leave us, may I say you have surprised me yet again. A man of my age has seen, and heard of, many marvels, but you are beyond words. What you experienced, and will experience, on your ‘researches’ is priceless, I envy you. And Joanie, for what’s it's worth, I’m sorry, but it’s a burden you must bear. Please remember me.”

“Um, ah, thanks, I better go.”

~~What was that about? ~~

“Joanie, a word please?” asked Ms. Carson as she followed me out of her office.

We went into the nearest ladies room. She checked that it was clear then whispered to me.

“I told him the truth of how you got the smilodons, how you travel through time, and I told him about the effect your regen would have on your appearance and lifespan. He can be trusted; he knows equally dangerous secrets of mine he’s never disclosed. It was better to tell him than risk speculation among his staff. That’s why he said he’s sorry; he knows you’ll outlive us all and anyone you love. It’s a great burden, but a great gift as well; you keep the link to the past alive. You’re like a high priestess and keeper of the flame. As long as you live, all those you knew are never truly gone.”

“I … it’s … well I don’t like to think of it much.” I said, and wiped a tear.

“Gee you’re an emotional child. Now I know why you act so silly most of the time; your love of life keeps the demons at bay.”

“Demons?” I asked, sniffling a bit.

“The knowledge that all those you love must die, even your children and that you will go on.”

I must have looked sad and forlorn; I know I was crying at the thought.

“Cheer up girl. That won’t happen for a long time, and I’m sure with your penchant for finding damsels in distress you’ll make lots of good friends in the future. Your doctors speculated any children you have will inherit such robust genes from you they will likely live a long time, hundreds of years or more, without the benefit of your time locked/dimensionally cross-linked BIT. But what if your BIT is inheritable? Then they will live as long as you. Don’t let your fear of the unknown rule your life, child. Maybe you’ll find a way to share your long life with a select group of others; it could be possible.”

“When pigs fly,” I retorted, and smiled.

“The genetics lab is working on that, though they claim flying monkeys are easier,” Ms. Carson said.

“With all the sorceresses, and mages, here, I don’t doubt that, my little pretty. I’ll get you... and your little dog too!” I cackled.

Ms. Carson smiled, then walked away softly chuckling.

* * * *

I wanted to assist in the construction and rehab projects as much as I could, and needed larger transportation. Be reasonable dear d/j/w reader, how would I carry 80 pound shingle bundles in my cycle panniers? I considered renting or leasing a truck, or van, great for the project, but what about afterward? Transporting George and Gracie on my cycle was impractical. I could rig a sidecar or trailer, but that would be awkward at best -- though the thought of how people would react to the sight of us made it tempting. A full sized pickup with a crew cab like Big Red’s made sense, as it could carry the widest variety of cargo, tow, and transport my eager student workforce and the smilodons. This meant a trip into Berlin, NH, where the nearest dealerships were. Charlie Lodgeman was busy, and I’d imposed on him enough. Korolev was involved in some secretive research, and was unavailable, so I told Security where I was going, and took the Harley.

I’d been to Berlin several times, but always in passing, as I caught my charter flights there. I’d only the one morning class that day, which Ms. Carson had excused me from. With Anna busy being tested, the rest of the day was mine. It was a pleasant spring day, into the lower 60’s, so I wore my Whateley security uniform under my cycling jumpsuit. I determined the truck should be police equipped, at least to provisions for a police radio, emergency lights, and a siren, and winch, much like a VFD -- volunteer fire department -- member’s vehicle might be configured. I needed a ramp, or hoist, system to load and unload my cycle, and a way to secure it in the bed. Some kind of strong, protective animal kennel for the smilodons was a must, and I’d need a towing package.

I made great time to Berlin, and found the community had a GMC, Ford, Mercedes/Chrysler, several import, and one full size truck dealership that catered heavily to the logging industry. I’d ridden or driven Ford products most of my life, so I rode into the Ford Dealership, parked my cycle in front of their showroom, and changed out of my riding clothes. I walked into the showroom, and was promptly ignored by everyone. In their defense most of the salespersons were busy, and it did give me some time to look at the models. I’m torn between prompt and possibly too aggressive salesmanship, and hands-off, but possibly too impersonal an attitude. I noticed a hybrid drive system was available in the full-sized models. This was more efficient and far cleaner burning than any conventional engine. This would leave open the option of a conversion to full electric drive by Whateley’s tech gurus at some later date.

“How may I help you, young lady? Looking at buying your first new car? We have some great deals on the Focus, or if you want something with more flash, we have T-birds in stock. A tall, attractive woman like you would wow the guys driving by in one,” said the salesman.

He was thirty and single, I guessed from the lack of a wedding band on his hands.

~~What is it with thirty-something salesmen and good looking women? Do they believe those chat up lines work? ~~

I toyed with playing the bimbo routine to the hilt, but I didn’t have the time. It was time for brutal honesty.

“I own a 2005 Focus ZX4 SE which is in storage back in Wisconsin. I need a vehicle for a home renovation and construction project on a farm I recently purchased. I’ll be hauling building materials, construction debris, and workers to and from the site, and I may need to tow various trailers. I need accessories to load and secure my 1915 Harley that you can see in your lot, and I’ll need an animal enclosure that can handle two large cats that will eventually weight between 400 and 450 pounds a piece. I figure I’ll need an F250 with the hybrid drive system, crew cab, and maybe built-in GPS. The floor model here has much of what I want.

“If you’ve been observant, you’ll have noticed I’m an auxiliary security officer at Whateley Academy, so I’ll need a police/emergency vehicle package. That means the oversized electrical and cooling systems, emergency lights, radio and computer hookups, siren and PA, special frame bracing, and handling enhancements, and such. Are you following me so far?” I asked him as I stopped for breath.

I had him rattled, but to his credit he recovered fast.

“We don’t have all that in stock, but we can get it quickly, and have it installed in a week or less. You do know this will be expensive; you could be looking at over 50 thousand dollars after tax?”

“Police get a discount, and I am deputized by the State of New Hampshire. I'm also an officer, on inactive status, with the Wisconsin National Guard. I won’t need financing; I’m paying with a personal check, if that’s okay?” I said, and smiled.

He looked at me doubtfully, but resisted being condescending. He was trying hard not to fixate on my chest, though parts of him were being uncooperative, and more impressively so by the moment.

“I’ll need to run a credit check in any case, to insure your check is good. I’ll need your driver’s license, employer, and security IDs as well.

“You shouldn’t need all that, but to confirm I’m eligible for the police discount, I’ll agree.”

I handed him the ID, and waited for the fun to begin. He handed them through a window to an office worker to photocopy.

~~Damn, he didn’t look. ~~

A girlish shriek from the office, followed by a chorus of ‘Oh my Ghod, oh my Ghod’s’, confirmed the secretaries had looked.

Several women from high school to college age burst out of the office, and bombarded me with questions; they reminded me of Mel. The salesman stared, clueless and tongue tied.

“Frank, do you know who she is?” asked the oldest girl incredulously.

“Somebody famous from your reactions; sorry, you know me; if it’s not cars, or sports, I don’t follow it,” said Frank.

“She’s only the hottest singer on the radio, that’s who. Frank, this is Joanie,” said the college girl, who looked to be in her early 20s.

“Joanie who?”

The girls looked shocked; I broke into a giggle.

“My luck to find the one man in America who hasn’t heard of me,” I said, and giggled some more. “You said you’re into cars, and sports … You read Playboy, even subscribe to it?”

He looked uncomfortable and embarrassed, and my usual effect on men had him on the defensive.

~~Do I have it or what? If that got any stiffer, he wouldn’t have any blood left for his brain. ~~

“It’s a free country, sure I do. What of it? It’s not like I bring it to work,” he said.

“Make sure to look check out the July 2007 issue, it should answer a lot of questions, though I doubt it will help reduce that swelling in your slacks,” I said.

“They interviewed you?” one of the girls asked.

“And they took lots and lots of photos,” I replied.

“Y...you posed?” Frank stuttered.

“Meet Miss July, and the cover. It’s their first all mutant issue,” I said.

“Her checks are good then?” Frank asked sheepishly.

“Frank, the Wall Street Journal did a piece on her. Don’t look at me funny; you know I’m finance major. She could buy the dealership with what she’s earned in the last six months in recording royalties,” said the college girl.

After that my treatment improved immensely. The owner wanted to take care of me, but I insisted Frank have a chance to redeem himself. Frank impressed me; the man knows his trucks and accessories. In little over an hour he and the dealership located a 2007 F250 crew cab with the hybrid drive, and the basic police package, and arranged for its transfer to the dealership. Frank, with a mechanic's help -- a woman mechanic -- measured my cycle and ordered a cycle loading and carrying system that fit my Harley perfectly. It could be easily adjusted to handle a scooter as well. A slick cradle and winch system made loading and unloading in a tight space safe and easy. A custom animal carrier builder was contacted, and would install a sturdy, protective kennel for the truck bed. It could be quickly dismantled as needed, and as easily reinstalled. They were dubious at first to my need for it, and then I reminded them I work for Whateley.

“Whateley explains everything, Ms. Brown. You won’t be disappointed with our craftsmanship,” the builder said politely.

Frank worked hard to be helpful and get everything for my truck specified as I wanted it. He was courteous, charming, and I loved the attention. After a bad start, he’d recovered beautifully.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were sabertooths, given the stories I’ve heard about Whateley,” he said as a joke.

“How did you know I have smilodons?” I queried, straight-faced.

“Very funny, I deserved that, “ he said, and laughed.

~~I’ll have to bring them by the dealership when they’re all grown, he’ll wet his pants. ~~

We got everything double checked and confirmed. The truck was exactly as I wanted. By some quirk it was painted in light Tundra, the same color as my Focus. When I saw that specification, I nearly wet my pants laughing.

"What’s so funny, Joanie?” Frank asked,

“Just that by pure luck my truck has exactly the same paint as my 2005 Focus; what were the odds?”

Frank continued to work at overcoming his macho first impression. He talked to the owner, who talked to the district manager, who got hold of the regional manager, and so on, and after a few minutes I was in a multipart conference call to Dearborn Michigan, and speaking with Mr. Ford. In exchange for the rights to use my image, and voice, in their ads for one year, I got everything for free, even lifetime servicing and repairs. They’d pay me a handsome sum any time I mentioned I owned a Ford when I was on TV, radio, or at some public event. I asked they send it all to MSG in Madison. They had a fund to assist needy new mutants, and I owed them.

“I’m in awe here. I fully expected to pay for my truck. Your offer is most generous, and I fully accept, pending the review of any contracts by my lawyer, Senator Johnson of Iowa.”

~~If they think they’re getting me this cheap when it comes time to renew our contract, boy will they experience some sticker shock. ~~

“That’s a reasonable precaution, and we’re not that generous, Ms. Brown. To hire a celebrity of your caliber would be far more expensive normally. Without agent fees, and using product instead of money for this deal saved us sizable sum. That’s why the bonus for mentioning you own our vehicles is so generous; we can afford it, no pun intended. Could you spare a few hours for photos, and to record some brief advertisements when you take delivery? That should be convenient for you, and help us get our ad campaign started at once,” said the descendant of the company founder.

They were eager to use my talents as they had already bought a full page advertisement in the July Playboy before anyone knew I was in it. They offered me a T-bird, or even a Ford GT, a car worth more than my father’s home, but I was happy with the truck. They got a great deal. For a present value of around 100 thousand dollars they got several times that in my services as a spokeswoman, though I do keep vehicles a long time, so I’d make back a fair bit of it on the lifetime free repairs and maintenance. I left the dealership, and got back to Whateley in time for dinner at six with my friends.

* * * *

I was thrilled to see Anna, and May Lee, had made it.

“Has everyone introduced themselves?”

They all nodded in assent.

“Anna, these are the masterminds behind helping catch the criminals who abused you. They don’t stand a chance now. The authorities are involved so the gang here doesn’t get too violent,” I said and snickered.

“Is Joanie often like this?” Anna asked.

“No, she’s usually far less serious,” said Suzy, covering her face to hide her grin.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, but may I speak with Ms. Brown?”

The voice came from a petite girl of Asian ancestry. She couldn’t have been much more than 13, or 14, though her figure showed signs of promise. This girl would be a heartbreaker when she matured; she had the kind of face that screamed sweetness of character. Her eyes showed a keen intelligence, and determination to succeed. Then it struck me, something looked odd about her boots.

~~Is she wearing elevator shoes? At a minimum those are fairly high heeled. I wonder what else isn’t as it seems? I wonder why I noticed that, maybe I am shoe obsessed.~~

“I’m Joan, um, I mean, I’m Ms Brown. That didn’t come out quite right, did it? Please call me Joanie. What may I do for you Ms. …?”

“My apologies, I’m Jade Sinclair; Stan and Morrie in Operations said you were looking for workers to help with a rehab and house construction project? My sister, Jinn, and I would like to work for you. They said you would pay a good wage, and provide all need safety gear and equipment,” she said, clearly and efficiently.

~~This girl's certainly confident. I wonder who’s interviewing who here? She mentioned the princes of plumbing, hum? ~~

“How do you know Stan and Morrie?” I asked.

“I’ve worked as a student employee with them since I came to Whateley last fall, so has my sister Jinn. Ask the guys, they’ll tell you we're good workers, and not afraid of the tough jobs,” said Jade.

“I will; I’m doing a ’research trip’ for them tomorrow with Charlie Lodgeman’s assistance. I trust their judgment; they’re helping with my housing projects. If they vouch for you, you're in, Jade. Where’s your sister Jinn, I’d like to meet her?” I asked.

“Jinn’s my older sister, and she’s dead, but that hasn’t slowed her. She’s a student here. She should be here any minute, her maintenance shift ended later than mine today,” she said, then looked at me to see my reaction, sharp girl.

~~You are interviewing me; you have a sharp mind. Jade.~~

“I’ve got smilodons, so what’s strange about a dead girl as a student? This is Whateley; I’m game if your sister is, Jade.”

* * * *
To be continued