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Message-ID: <48163asstr$1086700202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Vulgar Argot <vulgarargotREMOVEALL@CAPSinsidejoke.tv>
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Subject: {ASSM} Princes of Mannsborough, Chapter 21
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Date: Tue,  8 Jun 2004 09:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Princes of Mannsborough, Part 21
by Vulgar Argot
(tags moved to bottom for spoilerage)

"How's your head?" asked Matika.

Thule reached up and touched the sore spot tenderly, "Still sore. John
really cracked me."

"You just startled him," said Matika, "He's not a violent person at
all."

"I've really got to start asking people to hit me on the other side of
the head for a while," said Thule, "I'm going to start looking
asymmetrical if I get any more lumps on this one."

Matika nodded, "I noticed an old cut and bruise behind your ear. What
was that from?"

"It was..." said Thule, "I don't remember--an accident of some sort.
Turn here."

After the turn, he asked, "Do you think you have enough to move
forward?"

Matika nodded, "One way or another, we have to. Anne is preparing her
case for getting sealed indictments first thing Monday morning. If
your girlfriend doesn't recant everything she said tonight once she
gets a lawyer, we may still have jobs Monday afternoon."

"Brianne is rather emphatically not my girlfriend," said Thule. "Once
she starts talking about what she did for Randy over the last four
years, you'll understand that better."

"She certainly seemed to think she was," said Matika darkly.

"Jealous, Agent Nazarov?" asked Thule.

Matika snorted, "Please. If that's how you treat your girlfriends, I'd
be afraid you might fall in love with me and I'd wind up on death
row."

Thule held the mostly-warm ice pack back up to his temple, "If I let
it, touching Brianne would make my skin crawl. She is one of the most
despicable people I know. And, in this town, that's saying quite a
bit. I did what I had to do to make her trust me. I couldn't let my
revulsion matter. The truth is that I wish she were getting the chair.
Whether the law recognizes it or not, she's responsible for a lot of
misery and at least one death."

"So," asked Matika after a stretch of silence, "where did you learn
such duplicity at your age?"

Thule looked at her, "Are you asking because it's a skill you're
hoping to acquire or to justify some moral judgment you've already
made?"

Matika didn't answer for a long minute, "I wish I could do it as well
as you do. But, it's chilling to watch. I guess I want to know what it
feels like. Does it feel like anything?"

Thule chuckled, "Do you realize how strange this conversation sounds?
Matika, you're an FBI field agent. Don't they teach that sort of thing
at spy school?"

"In the abstract," said Matika, "But, it seems to be assumed that
there's a gift to it. And, yes, I know how strange this conversation
sounds. But, if you could hear them talk about you when you're not
around, you would understand."

Thule winced, "I try not to think about it. I know how badly I've
screwed up some of this and that I'm a dilettante, trying to play
outside my league. I didn't do this to make friends."

Matika laughed sharply, "Is that what you think? Thule, they talk
about you like you're some kind of natural-born superspy. John and
Anne couldn't be prouder of you if you were their own child. And, you
should have heard Helene spitting and hissing about Brianne. Every
time she talks about you, it's like she's a schoolgirl with a crush.
If she had a notebook, she would probably draw little hearts with your
name in them all over it."

Thule grinned, trying to absorb the new information. Finally, he said,
"I've been deeply impressed with what you all have pulled off. But,
the opinions of librarians, lawyers, and file clerks probably doesn't
count for much on these matters. What does the field agent think of my
techniques?"

"I think," said Matika, "that I would like to know what it feels like
to convince someone that you're they're best friend in the world and
then turn around and hand them over to the FBI."

"It feels exactly like you would expect it to feel," said Thule, "like
you're the most vile, disgusting, reprehensible individual on the
whole planet. The trick to getting through it is that I don't let
myself feel like that right away. If I keep busy, I can hold it off
for weeks. As soon as this is over, I'm getting into therapy."

"So, that's it?" asked Matika, "Just give yourself permission to delay
feeling bad?"

Thule laughed, "You make it sound so new agey. But, there's more. Do
you know what chauvinism is?"

"Like male chauvinism?" asked Matika.

"Yeah," said Thule, "except that the broader definition just means an
irrational preference for the group you're in over the groups you're
not in. Quick, who does more for the country, the FBI or the CIA?"

"The FBI," said Matika immediately.

"That's chauvinism," said Thule, "If you were in the CIA, you probably
would have answered the opposite."

"Maybe," admitted Matika, "but I would be wrong. What does that have
to do with duplicity?"

"Chauvinism is a natural instinct, one of the few humans have," said
Thule, "In order to combat it, we've created laws and institutions and
polite fictions like 'celebrate diversity.' The trick to cuddling up
to someone like Brianne or Randy is to embrace chauvinism. I could let
Brianne think that I was her best friend in the world because, for
that brief time that I need to be, I am and I would do anything for
her that I would do for any friend."

"Then, how do you keep from blurting out that the woods are full of
FBI agents?"

Thule grinned in the darkness, "Because my chauvinism only goes so
far. If a friend, a real friend, did what Brianne did, I would turn
them in...or stop them myself."

Thule could see Matika shiver at the last bit. He wondered if he'd
said too much.

"So," asked Matika after a long silence, "Are you ready to tell me
what you're planning to do to get Vladi to show you where the bodies
are buried?"

Thule told her. Matika didn't answer for a long time. Finally, she
asked, "Will you at least drill some air holes?"

Thule nodded, "I'll have to check with my mechanic. But, we should be
able to arrange it."

Matika took a deep breath, then said, "I'll do it."

Thule let out a sigh of relief, "Good. From now on, you're my point of
contact. I don't want to see any of the others until this is over.
Tell them to stay in New York. Vil Umanski is watching me and he would
not miss a gaggle of FBI agents. You'll want to question Randy as soon
as possible about the cocaine connection. Let him think that's what
you're here for. Make sure you do it publicly. Whenever you can, swing
by. I don't want people wondering why we're hiding our association.
Besides, it will make it more credible when I kill you."

Matika nodded, "The others won't like being told to stay away."

Thule shrugged, "They won't have time to be hanging around. They need
to set up an operational plan for this sting and pull it off. And,
they need to do it fast. The Vandevoorts have so many friends that I
don't expect those indictments to stay sealed forever."

That was the end of conversation until they pulled into the driveway.
Thule saw his old car up on ramps and Dawn's legs sticking out from
under it. When she heard the car pull up, she emerged, dropped the
wrench she was holding, and flew across the lawn, launching herself
into Thule's arms.

"You're okay," she exclaimed, burying her head in his chest, clinging
to him like he was the mast in a storm.

"Matika," said Thule, "this is Dawn. Dawn, this is Matika, also known
as Agent Nazarov."

Dawn detached herself from Thule, standing up straight to give Matika
the eye. Then, she extended her hand coolly, "Nice to meet you. Thule
has told me about you." Then, she turned to Thule, "Marigold is
inside. When your car came back without you, I got worried and called
her."

Thule leaned down and kissed her, "I'm sorry, Dawn. I had some things
to take care of."

"You should have called," said Dawn, "And, I have a bone to pick with
you."

"Oh?" asked Thule.

"I thought you said you know how to change your oil," she said,
annoyed, "You're lucky you didn't do more damage than just not being
able to start."

"Sorry," said Thule, grinning, "I've been sort of busy."

"No excuse," said Dawn, waggling her finger at him before she bounded
back to her work.

"Girlfriend?" asked Matika as they walked up the path.

"Yes," said Thule, "Try to be nice to her. She's also my mechanic and
will get to decide how big the air holes are."

Inside, Marigold looked up, blinking from the couch. Their entrance
appeared to have woken her. She rose, came over to him, and hugged
him.

"Thule," she said groggily.

"Marigold," said Thule, hugging her back, "this is Agent Matika
Nazarov."

Marigold hugged Matika sleepily, smiling, "Nice to meet you. You're
the FBI agent?"

Matika said, "Yes. Nice to meet you, Marigold."

Marigold said, "I was worried about you," swatted Thule gently, and
padded off to Dawn's room.

"Sister?" asked Matika.

"Girlfriend," said Thule. At Matika's confused look, he added, "It's
complicated."

Matika raised her hands, "It's none of my business."

Thule put the ice pack in her hand, "Thank you for the use of that."

"I should be heading back," said Matika.

"How badly does your partner disapprove of all this?" asked Thule.

Matika looked surprised, "You have got to stop doing that...skipping
half the conversation."

"Sorry," said Thule, watching her, still waiting for an answer.

"He disapproves pretty badly," said Matika. "He's a distant cousin of
the Vandevoorts."

Thule hissed through his teeth. Then, Matika said, "So am I."

Thule looked surprised, "Excuse me?"

"Careful," said Matika, "your reputation for telepathy is suffering.
Ivan Vandevoort's paternal grandmother was Russian. She was also the
mother of my grandfather, who scandalized the family by marrying a
black woman in 1951, in case you were wondering." When Thule didn't
interrupt, she went on, "It caused a schism in the family. Half bound
themselves to the Vandevoorts. There have been nearly a dozen
marriages since then. They went to great lengths to distance
themselves from us."

"So," asked Thule, "this is some Russian version of the Hatfields and
McCoys?"

Matika smiled wryly, "Yes, but leave it to Russians to give both sides
the same name."

                                  -=-

Thule woke up alone the next morning, fresh aches and pains in his
back and shoulders. Looking in the mirror, he saw that the eye Jonas
had blackened was black again. He sighed, hoping it would fade before
the prom.

Dawn stuck her head into the room, "Breakfast is ready."

When Thule emerged from his room, he saw Marigold serving breakfast.
She came over and kissed him on the mouth. Thule noticed that the
sweatpants she was wearing were too long for her, probably Dawn's.

Just as he was finishing breakfast, Thule's cell phone rang. It was
Matika.

"Our friend is being uncooperative," she said, "She says she wants to
see you."

"Where?" asked Thule.

"County," said Matika, "in Middleton. Think you can find it?"

"Yeah," said Thule, "I'll find it."

After Thule hung up his phone, he asked Dawn, "Do I have a working
car?"

"Yeah," said Dawn, "The old one is working fine. If one of you can
bring me into town, I can have Carl order the parts I need for the
Caddy."

"I can bring you in, sweetie," said Marigold.

That settled, Thule decided to grab a shower before he went to meet
Brianne. After all, she wasn't going anywhere. As he stood with his
eyes closed, letting the water pound down on him, someone slipped in
behind him, scrubbing his back.

"Ah, Little Flower," said Thule, "don't get any funny ideas. I've got
a lot to do today."

Marigold laughed behind him, "Curses. You know it was me by my
superior loofa skills."

Actually, he'd glanced in the medicine cabinet mirror and seen blonde
hair through the shower door, but he saw no reason to tell her that.
Instead, he turned around, wrapping his arms around her, "Did you two
have a good night."

Marigold nodded against his chest, "Mmm hmm. If you weren't so dead to
the world, you could have joined us."

Thule chuckled, "I suppose that I will eventually. It doesn't seem
like I have much choice in the matter."

"Prom night," said Marigold, "unless you object."

"What?" asked Thule.

"Dawn and I discussed it and we'd like to do it on prom night," said
Marigold, "provided that meets with your approval. We'll go to the
prom, then drive down to the shore. Then, the three of us will spend
the night together."

Thule laughed, "Are you sure you don't want me all to yourself on prom
night?"

Marigold rubbed her nose in his chest hair. She might have been
scratching and itch or making a negative gesture, "I'm going to spend
my prom night with the two people I love best. What could be better?"

"Little Flower," said Thule, "we really need to talk about your
feelings for Dawn, but now is not the time. Maybe tonight..."

"I'm in love with her, Thule," she said quietly.

"Or we could discuss it now," said Thule, "Are you sure?"

Marigold nodded, "Every time I think about leaving her behind when we
go to Boston, it makes me sad. What would you think if I suggested she
apply to colleges in the area?"

"Well," said Thule, "if it was anything like this, I would probably be
too stunned to think. You two really haven't known each other very
long."

"Thule," asked Marigold, "do you believe that I love you?"

Thule nodded, "Fair enough. Have you talked to her yet...about
Boston?"

"No," said Marigold, "I would like to tell her that we want her to
join us, if it's true."

"You'll have to give me some time," said Thule, "This is a lot to
think about."

Marigold hugged herself to him and looked up into his face, "Do you
love her, Thule?"

"I don't know," admitted Thule, "I haven't let myself think about it.
Either answer would have been...problematic."

"I love you, Thule," said Marigold.

"I love you too, Little Flower," said Thule.

                                   -=-

Thule barely remembered the ride to the county women's correctional
facility. How he managed to keep from having an accident while so
deeply in thought was anyone's guess. As it was, he sat in his car,
trying to compose himself, for so long that a guard came over and
tapped on the window to make sure that he wasn't up to anything
suspicious.

Brianne was being held in a building set aside from the main lockup
and commandeered by the FBI. When he was shown in, John looked up from
where he was sitting.

"How is she?" asked Thule.

"Stubborn," said John, "She had a ton of information about her drug
contacts. Apparently, she's been hoarding it for a while. But, as soon
as we ask anything about the Vandevoorts, she clams up and says she
wants to talk to you. Anne is in there with her now."

"Have Anne come out here, please," said Thule, "It's almost lunch
time. Can you get some food for me to bring her?"

"She's refused to eat," said John.

"Even better," said Thule, "She'll be hungry."

"How's your eye?" John asked. Thule was wearing sunglasses.

"Black," said Thule, "Don't worry. It will add realism to what I have
to do."

Anne came out, "Thule, she's been asking for you all day."

"I heard," said Thule, "What sort of deal did you offer her?"

"Criminal possession, down from intent to sell for the drug
information," said Anne, "I promised I'd ask the judge for a suspended
sentence on the drug charges if she would testify against Randy."

"What about the conspiracy charges?" asked Thule.

"I can't touch those," said Anne. "I'm not authorized to cut deals on
that sort of thing."

Thule sighed, "All right. Maybe I can get her to talk."

"This, I've got to see," said John, admiration clear in his voice.

"No," said Thule, "I don't want anyone watching this. It will be hard
enough to do it as it is." John looked like he was going to protest.
Thule said, "Promise me, John."

John nodded, "No one will watch."

Helene came back with a tray of food. Thule took it from her and
nodded to the guard, who opened the door between rooms. Brianne was
sitting in a wooden chair at a metal table, looking away from the
door.

"Orange really isn't your color," said Thule.

Brianne was up, running towards him, and hugging him so quickly that
Thule almost dropped her lunch. After he'd put the tray down, he
hugged her back, "How are they treating you?"

"Bad," said Brianne. She was crying now.

"You didn't tell them anything about Randy, did you?" he asked.

She shook her head emphatically.

"Good," said Thule, "they're on some sort of witch hunt about him.
They tried to tell me you had already ratted him out."

"Bastards," Brianne spat.

"Have some lunch," said Thule. "You look hungry."

Brianne sat down again, "I don't suppose there's a file in this piece
of cake?"

"Nah," said Thule, "your nails look fine."

"I look like shit," said Brianne sulkily.

Thule sat down across from her, taking both of her hands in his,
"Brianne, you're always going to be beautiful. They can't take that
away from you."

The smile and look of relief on her face wrenched Thule's stomach so
badly that he almost vomited.

"Thule," asked Brianne, "why are you in street clothes?"

"Jonas sent a lawyer to get me an early bail hearing," said Thule, "I
got bailed out this morning."

"What about Jake?" asked Brianne.

Thule made a face like he had tasted something bad, "That son of a
bitch. They never even arrested him. The whole fucking thing was a
setup."

Brianne's face grew white with rage, "What? I thought you said you'd
worked with him before."

"I did," said Thule, "he was definitely legit at this time. I don't
know why he would be working with the feds on this sort of thing.
Unless..."

"What?" asked Brianne.

"No," said Thule, "never mind. I'm just being paranoid."

"Oh," said Brianne. She poked her lunch suspiciously with a fork.
Thule gave her a few minutes to eat. He didn't speak, letting the
silence extend itself. Finally, when she was almost done, he asked,
"Brianne, can you think of any reason that the Vandevoorts would want
you out of the way?"

Brianne's face got white again, "Why?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," said Thule, "Jake works for
Ivan. Ivan wants to get me. Did Randy want you out of the way enough
to set you up?"

"That son of a bitch," said Brianne angrily.

"Don't jump to conclusions," said Thule. "That's what they want us to
do."

Brianne nodded, "Okay."

Thule took her hands again, "Brianne, they're going to keep trying to
split us up. It's an old trick. If only one of us talks, the one who
doesn't is going to go up the river, hard. The only way we'll get out
of this is if we promise each other that we won't talk. Promise me."

Thule could already see Brianne calculating. "I promise," she said.

"So do I," said Thule, "no matter what they tell me, I won't turn on
the Vandevoorts. Besides, I can't believe that Ivan would turn on me
for something so petty."

He was already up and hugging her goodbye when Brianne asked, "What is
Ivan after you for anyway?"

Thule pulled away, going towards the door, knocking to be let out,
"It's nothing," he said. "I just fucked that slut wife of his."

The last thing he saw on Brianne's face was a look of betrayal and
rage. Turning to Anne, he said weakly, "Give her fifteen minutes to
stew. Then, go back in."

Matika followed him outside, waiting until they were clear of the wall
to ask, "Are you okay?"

"No," said Thule, "I feel like I'm going to throw up."

Matika rubbed his back reassuringly, "Do you think she'll talk?"

Thule nodded, "She'll talk."

Matika said, "And your reputation as a superspy will be intact. Do you
know anywhere good to eat around here? I haven't had anything since
lunchtime yesterday."

"I can show you a place," said Thule, "Once I clear my head, I'll
probably be hungry too."

"Are you sure your girlfriends won't mind?"

Thule chuckled, "No. Marigold has a weird thing about food, but as
long as you don't actually make me lunch, I think it will be all
right."

Thule didn't realize until they were already eating lunch that he'd
taken her to the same diner in which he'd eaten with Svetlana. By that
point, Matika was already asking him a half dozen questions at a time
about the material he'd handed over to her.

Eventually, he managed to get in, "I should ask Helene to come into
the city with me one of these days."

Matika frowned, "Why?"

"I need to get Sveta, Mrs. Vandevoort, in touch with the Bureau," said
Thule, "I think she would be willing to help with the investigation
and prosecution."

"Helene's just a file clerk," said Matika, "I should be the one to
talk to Mrs. Vandevoort."

"After she dosed you with ecstasy?" asked Thule, "I didn't think you
would want to deal with her."

Matika shrugged, "I can be a professional."

"Fair enough," said Thule, focusing on his meal.

A few minutes later, Matika asked, "Thule?"

"Yes?" asked Thule.

"Did you mention Helene just so that I would volunteer to interview
Svetlana myself because you thought I would balk at the duty if asked
directly?"

Thule said, "As you said, Agent Nazarov, you're a professional. I'm
sure you would have wanted to fulfill your duty to the best of your
ability without any such games."

By the look on her face, Matika wasn't sure if she should believe him
or not.

                     -=-

The weekend went relatively uneventfully. Thule insisted that Marigold
go home Saturday night to "at least make a pretense of still living
with her parents." She did, returning the favor by insisting that
Thule and Dawn join her family for Sunday dinner. There were a few
awkward moments when Jonas asked some seemingly innocent questions
that couldn't easily be answered without revealing some heretofore
unexplained aspect of the Thule-Marigold-Dawn relationship.

When he'd first shown up, Holly had seemed determined to give Thule
the stinkeye. It became clear that she was angry at Jonas for letting
Marigold stay the night at Thule's house and Thule by extension. Thule
eventually charmed his way back into her good graces, but even while
she was glaring at him, he found that he did not mind so much. At
least someone was behaving in a sane and predictable way.

After dinner, out on the porch, Jonas had pointed to Thule's black eye
and asked if some other girl's father had caught up with him. Thule
caught him up on what was going on with the case.

That night, Matika called to let him know that Brianne had spilled her
guts about Randy as soon as he'd left. She also told him that there
had been a lot of resistance to his plan for dealing with Vladi, but
that the team had eventually fallen in line and expected to have
everything in place for the sting by the following Monday. Thule
wished it could be sooner, but at the same time, it meant that he
would have a week to prepare and wouldn't have to deal with the
investigation until after prom weekend.

Monday, as he was waiting outside on the steps, one of the
cheerleaders approached him. It took him a minute to recognize her as
the freshman who had been double-teamed by Randy and Ian at the party.
She said her name was Ilia.

"How are you doing, Ilia?" he asked gently.

"All right," said Ilia, "Sorry it took me so long to get back to you.
I just had some thinking to do."

"Oh," asked Thule, "what about?"

"Well," said Ilia, "a friend of mine said that what Randy and Ian did
to me was rape. What do you think about that?"

"What do you think, Ilia?" Thule asked.

"I don't know," said Ilia, "I mean, I see his point, but it's not like
I said no. It's just like everybody's trying to protect me from
myself, like a girl my age shouldn't be allowed to have sex."

Thule nodded. She was looking to him for guidance. If he told her
she'd been raped, she might well have believed him and they would have
another nail in Randy's coffin. But, she seemed to be muddling through
on her own, looking to put a bad experience behind her and get on with
her life. If she decided she'd been raped, she wouldn't be able to do
that as easily.

Thule lit a cigarette as he considered his answer. Finally, he said,
"Everybody should be free to make their own decisions."

Ilia nodded, her face brightening, "Right. Thanks, Thule."

                               -=-

"So," asked Jonas, "are you looking forward to this weekend?"

Thule looked up, not sure how to answer that question. He looked to
Jonas for some indication of nuance to the question. If he didn't know
better, he would swear that Jonas was smirking at him.

"Marigold seems more excited about getting to stay in that house than
anything else," he said noncommittally.

Jonas chuckled, "I haven't seen that place in like twenty years. The
last time I was down there, it was the summer after high school
graduation. Holly, Thom, Ivan, and I spent the whole season down
there." He got a faraway look in his eyes.

"Thom was Marigold's father?" asked Thule.

"Yeah," said Jonas, "The three of us were inseparable in high school.
I think, if you had met Ivan back then, you would have liked him."

Thule couldn't help scowling, "I doubt that."

"People change," said Jonas. There was no reproach in his voice,
"Ivan's home life was...very regimented. His mother was born Russian
Orthodox. His father converted before Ivan was born. In high school,
Ivan was kind of quiet and nervous. That summer was the first time I
started to see the man he would become."

"That must have been a disturbing transformation," said Thule.

Jonas almost chuckled, "Not at the time. I thought that a little bit
of confidence would do him some good. I set him up with this friend of
mine, Star."

"Star?" asked Thule skeptically.

"From my lips to God's ears," said Jonas, "She was a real party girl,
not so different from the most recent Mrs. Vandevoort, quite a beauty.
She really latched onto Ivan, too. We hardly ever saw them, but we
heard them often enough. After that summer, he was a different person.
It wasn't until I got back from college that I started to understand
how different."

Thule wondered if Jonas was seeking some kind of absolution for
creating Ivan, issuing some sort of veiled warning, or just
reminiscing. Before he could formulate a response, his desk phone
rang.

When he got off the call, he asked, "Jonas, do you know if Mac got
that secure conference room he was talking about set up?"

Jonas nodded, "Yeah. He made it a very high priority. Why?"

"My Grandpa Vanya is here and wants to talk to me," said Thule.

"I didn't know you had Russian blood," said Jonas.

"I don't," said Thule, "I also don't have any living grandfathers. In
fact, there's probably only one Russian man old enough to be my
grandfather who knows that I work here."

"I can have security escort him out," said Jonas.

"No," said Thule, "I should meet with him."

When Thule emerged into the reception area, Vil Umanski stood at the
front desk, leaning on a cane and chatting up the receptionist. Thule
couldn't hear the actual words, but whatever he said, the girl laughed
and clapped her hands.

"Grandfather," said Thule in a tone between greeting and warning,
"what a...surprise." Taking Vil by the arm, he added, "Why don't you
come in the back, where you can sit, relax, and tell me what this
visit is about."

"Your grandfather's a real character," said the receptionist.

"He certainly is that," deadpanned Thule.

As soon as they were out of sight of reception, Vil straightened up,
matched Thule's stride, and pulled his arm away. His face went from
mildly befuddled to sharp and suspicious.

"You're playing a very dangerous game," he croaked at Thule.

Thule scowled and didn't say anything until they were in the
conference room.

"Have a seat," he said, then set to turning on the baffles that would
make audio surveillance impossible.

Vil sat and chuckled, "Ah, you have your shiny new toys, I see."

Thule ignored the comment, sitting across from the old man, "So," he
asked, pouring himself a glass of water, "what sort of games am I
playing, Mr. Umanski?"

Umanski chuckled, "Far more than an old man can keep up with, I am
sure."

Thule raised an eyebrow, "Save the feeble old man act for
receptionists. I'm sure you know everything I'm doing right down to
what I had for breakfast this morning."

Umanski laughed harder, hinges and crumpled paper, "If only that were
so, Mr. Roemer. I must say that many of your actions of late have kept
me up at night, wondering what the hell you are up to."

Thule leaned back a little in his chair, "I did some reading on the
problem you showed me in the park. The defense you were looking for is
very controversial."

"Only to people who do not understand the game. In chess," said
Umanski, "victory is never controversial."

"It allows white to force a stalemate," said Thule.

Umanski laughed again, "Only if he plays without ego. He must force a
stalemate when he is well ahead in pieces, when he should be able to
crush his opponent. By the time it becomes clear that black will
promote a second queen, it's too late to do anything but lose."

"Even though the second queen is quickly lost," said Thule.

"Sacrificed," said Umanski, "not lost. So, tell me, Mr. Roemer, what
are you doing with this cheerleader?"

Thule raised an eyebrow, "Which one? I deal with a lot of cheerleaders
these days."

"Yes," said Umanski, "but, to my knowledge, only one of them is in
jail today, the same one who sat in your car when we met in the park."

Thule fought to suppress his physical response and said casually, "As
I said, you don't miss a thing, do you? It is a matter of settling old
scores, nothing more."

"And, is your association with Matika Nazarov also a matter of
settling old scores?"

For a few seconds, long enough for Vil Umanski to register it and give
a small, triumphant smile, Thule was completely thunderstruck.
Finally, he managed to say, "The Nazarovs are a good counterweight in
dealing with the Vandevoorts."

"You are aware she is an FBI agent?" asked Vil.

"Of course," said Thule, "That only makes her more useful. But,
surely, Ivan has nothing to fear from the FBI."

"Mr. Roemer," said Umanski, "you have asked me to do the honor of
dropping the feeble old man persona which has served me so well for
many years. I ask that you do me the same honor and not waste my time
by pretending to be a naive fool."

Thule sat back again, "So, tell me what you want, Mr. Umanski, and I
will tell you if I can help you with it."

"Make peace with Ivan," said Umanski.

Thule shook his head, "This, I can not do."

Umanski stood up, clearly perturbed, "Did you learn nothing from the
problem I showed you? You can only win by clearing the board, by
playing without ego, until it is only your king, his king, and a
single pawn left. To win, you have to destroy everything."

Thule actually grinned, "Victory is never controversial."

Umanski glared at him, "I have warned Ivan about you, but knew it
would do no good. You are the young lion. He is the old. There is only
one possible outcome."

"Randy is the young lion," said Thule calmly, "I just want to help him
take what is his."

"Randy is a bigger fool than his father," hissed Umanski, "Do you
think I am a fool, too? You will rule through him. You are too strong
and he too weak for anything else. But, he will filter everything you
do through his own foolishness and smallness. It will be the end of
the family."

Thule watched Umanski pace in agitation, his cane forgotten. He asked,
"And you still think Tryne should be my second queen?"

"You draw the analogy too far," said Umanski, "Tryne should be your
ally. She loves her brother, but hates him, too. With her influence,
you could keep Randy under control. The family would prosper."

"I may take Tryne," said Thule, "I have made no decision. But, I will
not make peace with Ivan. This, too, is a matter of settling old
scores."

Umanski glared at him with something approaching hatred, "Then, I was
wrong. You are a young and arrogant fool."

Thule shrugged, "I guess you were wrong to worry about me, then. I
imagine I'll be self-destructing any minute now."

With a final growl, Umanski grabbed his cane, "Good day, Mr. Roemer. I
will show myself out."

As the door closed, Thule reached for the phone at the head of the
table and dialed, "Mac," he said, "an old man just left conference
room S. He's pretending to be my grandfather. He's actually Vil
Umanski, Ivan Vandevoort's head of security. I doubt he can find out
anything useful by wandering the halls, but you'll want someone
watching him. And, you should make it clear that he is not, under any
circumstances, to be granted access to the offices unless escorted by
me, Jonas, or yourself."

"You got it," said Mac, "boss."

It was several minutes before Thule realized that Mac was being
sarcastic.

                                   -=-

By prom night, Thule's black eye had faded enough that, in
photographs, it would probably look like a shadow or a trick of the
light. Dawn had spent the previous night at Marigold's and been there
all day. Thule and Scott Collins waited at the front door with Jonas
for them to come down.

"So," asked Thule, "how does the dress look?"

"Damned if I know," said Jonas. "She hasn't let me see it. She hasn't
even let her mother see it. She's been back to the seamstress with
revisions so many times that the woman called here almost in tears
until I agreed to pay her for her time. Marigold insisted on picking
it up herself and keeping it in a black garment bag. She's only tried
it on locked in her room with Dawn. Sometimes, they're locked up there
for hours before they come down. Based on all the giggling, I assume
it's fairly scandalous."

Thule managed to keep a straight face with some difficulty.

Dawn came down first. Her dress was deep indigo with spaghetti straps
and a deep decolletage. It reached down to the floor, but a slit up
one side revealed her leg up past the knee whenever she took a step.
She was subtly made up, choosing to accentuate the spray of freckles.
Thule had to elbow Scott in order to get his eyes popped back into his
head.

Holly, who Thule had noticed taking an increasingly maternal bent
towards Dawn, clucked and cooed over her now, saying how she'd grown
into a beautiful young woman and snapping picture after picture. As
Dawn reached the bottom of the stairs, she curtsied a little to the
Tarrs, accepted her corsage from Scott, and gave Thule a little hug.

"Hubba hubba," whispered Thule.

Dawn smiled mischievously, "Wait until you see Marigold."

Thule turned dutifully towards the stairs, tearing his eyes away from
Dawn with some difficulty.

And then, she was there. The dress was silk the color of tarnished
gold. Starting at the high neckline, the collar came down in strips of
a thicker, less translucent material, striated like an art deco
mantle, cut to hug the insides of her breasts to startling effect.
Where it dipped below the breasts, it was met with a horizontal band
that hugged the body, giving the dress shape and support. The whole
line of the dress to the waist was cut to mimic the line of the collar
before hugging her body like a sheath from the waist down. The skirt
came to midcalf and was slit to the knee, just enough to let her move
without tearing anything.

Her hair was done up in an elaborate braid, interwoven with lilies of
the valley.

By the time she was halfway down the steps, Thule could tell that
bottom two thirds of the dress were transparent enough for him to see
her navel piercing. Only when she got up close could he see that she
was wearing a similarly-colored thong underneath.

When she passed her mother, who was standing to one side of the
stairs, Holly said, "Oh, Marigold." There was a note of reproach in
her voice, but it was almost drowned out by admiration and a certain
amount of wistfulness.

Marigold turned a little, allowing Thule to see what had prompted the
exclamation. From just above the waist and up, there was no back to
the dress other than the single band from under her breasts that came
all the way around. Marigold had done a good job of getting an
all-over tan, leaving her back a play in brown and gold. Across her
elbows, she wore a shawl of a similar material as her collar, which
fell across the small of the back. It muted the effect of the backline
somewhat, but Thule suspected she would wear it just long enough to
get out of the house.

For a few long beats, she stood on the third step and no one moved.
Finally, Holly snapped a picture, the flash breaking the spell long
enough for Thule to take her arm, guide her down the last few steps,
and place the corsage on her wrist.

"My God, you're beautiful," he whispered throatily in her ear.

Marigold laughed, "Yes, I am. Aren't I?"

Jonas stood, not speaking. For a moment, Thule wondered if he was
going to ruin the moment by objecting. Marigold looked at him as if
sensing the tension and asked, "Do you like it, sir?"

Jonas nodded, "You look very much like your mother did when I fell in
love with her at our prom."

Holly gasped, "Oh, Jonas." Before anyone could react, she fled the
room, barely-contained emotion writ large on her face.

Jonas looked sheepish, "Um, I'd better go and...deal with that. The
photographer is set up out back. If I don't see you guys before you
leave, have a good weekend." He shook hands with Thule, hugged
Marigold, and trotted out of the hall.

On the way around the back, Scott asked, "What was that all about?"

Marigold smiled, "Jonas is my stepfather. He was not the man my mother
went to the prom with. She went with her steady boyfriend, my father.
Before my father died, he asked Jonas to take care of my mother and
me. As far as I know, that's the first time Jonas ever admitted how
much he welcomed the task."

"Oh," said Scott, "cool."

After they'd had their pictures taken, Thule said quietly to Marigold,
"I don't think anyone is going to believe the 'Ice Queen' comments
anymore."

Marigold just laughed.

Looking back on the prom, Thule would never be able to explain what
made it so memorable. It took place in a rented wedding hall not far
from the school. The band was high-end adequate. He vaguely recognized
the recorded music as currently popular and potential blackmail
material a decade or two down the line. Most everyone there was
someone he'd been going to school with for four years or longer. He
did get to meet Kale, Ioke's "boyfriend back home." Kale overtopped
Thule by more than a head and outmassed him by enough that Thule was
relieved he hadn't pressed his case to Ioke any harder than he had. A
few classmates seemed to have met the big man already by the way they
greeted him, then gave him a wide berth.

"Isn't Ioke a junior?" asked Thule.

Marigold nodded, "Kale's a senior. She couldn't make it out there for
his prom, so he came here." She took an envelope out of her purse,
"Take a look at our tickets."

Thule raised an eyebrow, "I'm Ioke's date?"

Marigold nodded, "And I'm Kale's. I knew you wouldn't mind, but I
thought you might object."

Thule said, "That's a very subtle distinction."

Marigold wrapped her arms around his chest, looking up adoringly at
him, "But a critical one with you, my love."

Later, Thule and Scott went outside to smoke. Thule said, "You
certainly seem relaxed tonight."

Scott nodded, "It's easy when the pressure is off."

Thule raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Scott, "that I know I have no chance with Dawn. She's
your girl and I respect that."

Thule took a deep drag to mask his surprise, "What gave you that
impression?"

Scott laughed, "I'm not blind, Thule. Anybody with half a brain can
see how she looks at you. Besides, she told me."

"She told you?" asked Thule.

Scott nodded, "She said she was seeing someone else, but that it was
complicated and they couldn't be her prom date. At first, I thought
that she was seeing a professor or some old, married guy. It took me
about a day to be disabused of that notion."

"So," asked Thule, "she didn't actually tell you it was me? I just
did."

Scott grinned, "No. Although, it would be entertaining to let you
think so. You're usually not so incautious. I told her that it was
okay if she wanted to dance with you tonight, seeing as how I barely
dance. I'm at the prom with the prettiest girl at school. I may have
hoped for more, but I'd be a goddamned fool to turn that down because
it wasn't enough."

Thule nodded, "You figured all that out all by yourself?"

Scott took another puff, "Except for the last part. Dawn told me that.
She said, 'Scott Collins, you're going to the prom with the prettiest
girl in school. You may have hoped for more, but you'd be a goddamned
fool to turn it down because it wasn't enough.'"

Thule laughed. Scott said, "Besides, girls I didn't even think knew I
existed came up and said hello to me tonight because they saw me with
her. She was right."

When Thule went back in, he danced a few songs with Dawn. Later, he
even danced with Ioke while Marigold danced with Kale. As extreme as
the height difference between Marigold and Thule was, it was even more
pronounced with Marigold and Kale. She looked like she should stand on
the tips of his shoes like a little girl dancing with her father.

As he danced with Ioke, Thule understood better what Scott had said.
He was dancing with a beautiful, exotic woman he had wanted very badly
once. But, he would have been a goddamned fool to let the fact that he
couldn't have everything he had wanted or even that he didn't want it
anymore ruin the moment.

When the master of ceremonies called "last dance," Marigold reached
out and took Dawn by the hand. Dawn looked around, alarmed for Scott
and Thule. But, having been forewarned and consulted, they just
grinned and made no move.

There was nothing improper about the way Marigold and Dawn danced. It
was a slow dance, but they did nothing deliberately titillating. They
didn't need to. Everyone watched them, surreptitiously or openly.
Everyone with a camera got at least one picture. Most got several. It
took a long time for the flashes to subside enough to watch clearly.

Thule leaned over towards Scott, "If you want to dance, I lead."

Scott choked on what he was drinking before he realized Thule was
joking.

When the dance ended, Marigold lead Dawn back to their table, "Ready
to go?"

"We'd better," said Thule, "before the rioting starts."

As they scanned the parking lot for their limo among the dozens of
nearly identical black cars, Marigold leaned back against Thule, "We
seem to have made it through the prom without any major catastrophes."

"Dule," said a voice behind them.

Thule's spine stiffened, "Svetlana, what are you doing here?"

"Such formality," said Svetlana, "You used to call me Sveta. Don't
worry, Dule. I am not here for you. I am here to see my Randy. Is he
here?"

Thule nodded. Svetlana was dressed in blue jeans, a tasteful black
blouse and, most incredibly, thin, gold-rimmed glasses, her hair done
up in a neat ponytail. She looked almost bookish.

"He was inside a minute ago," said Thule.

"Thank you, Dule," she said. Then, she turned, "Marigold, you are
looking very nice tonight."

Marigold looked stunned, "Thank you, Mrs. Vandevoort."

"Again, such formality," said Svetlana, "You used to call me Sveta,
too."

Scott's eyes were ready to bulge out of his head again, "That was
Randy's mother?"

"Stepmother," said Thule.

"She seemed nice," opined Scott.

"Yeah," said Thule, "Now, can we get out of here before somebody else
mentioned how we've avoided any major catastrophes?"

The limo dropped them all off at Thule's, where they piled into the
Cadillac, already packed for the weekend. The night carried the warmth
of summer, so they rode with the top down. Dawn undid the elaborate
braidwork in Marigold's hair, leaning over from the backseat and
redoing it as a single, simple braid, more resistant to the wind.

When they pulled up in front of Scott's house, Dawn walked with him to
the door and stood on the porch, talking to him for a while. When the
porch light was turned on by someone inside, she leaned forward and
kissed him, sweetly and gently, before walking back to the car.

"What was that about?" Marigold asked.

"Scott's father is afraid he's gay," said Dawn, "I thought he might
want a contraindicator."

"He's not, is he?" asked Thule.

"No," said Dawn, "Why?"

Thule laughed, "I, um, jokingly offered to dance the last dance with
him. For a moment there, I thought I might have been biting off more
than I meant to."

They drove south, Thule in his tux, Marigold and Dawn in their
dresses. Dawn leaned over the seat to be heard over the wind, although
they spoke mostly of trivial matters.

Shortly after midnight, Thule said, "You know, it's still like another
two hours away. If anybody's getting tired..."

"Nope," said Dawn, jumping in.

"Not a chance," said Marigold, laughter in her eyes, "and you'd better
not, either--or we'll make you watch."

"So," asked Thule when Dawn had sat back to relax, "why did Svetlana
say that you used to call her Sveta?"

Marigold laughed, "Because she's a troublemaker. The truth is that she
and I only spoke once. When I went up there to offer myself to Lars
and he turned me down, I was very upset. Sveta sat and talked to me
for a long time, then gave me a ride home. She told me to call her
Sveta, so that was what I called her."

"What did you two talk about?" Thule asked.

"Boys, mostly," said Marigold, "She said a lot of things I wasn't
ready to really process yet, but she had some really good ideas that
made sense later."

"So," said Thule slowly, "you're saying that many of your ideas about
men and relationships came from Svetlana Vandevoort?"

Marigold nodded, "She's actually very smart."

                                   -=-

Despite her protestations to the contrary, Dawn was dozing in the back
seat by the time they pulled into the yard of Marigold's summer house.
The house was old and rural enough that a driveway had never been
built.

Thule looked down, "Should we let her sleep?" It was just past two am.

Marigold shook her head, "She would never forgive us."

"I'll start bringing in the luggage and get the top closed," said
Thule.

"There's a bedroom at the top of the stairs with two double beds in
it," said Marigold, "Leave the luggage there. There's an inner bedroom
past that. We'll meet you there."

Once he'd gotten the luggage stowed and finished his ablutions, Thule
found his way to the innermost bedroom. He'd stripped off his tuxedo
jacket and ruffled shirt in order to carry luggage. The inner chamber
was narrow, barely wider than the antique brass bed that dominated it.
There was no other furniture in the room, leaving half of its length
empty before it ended in an east-facing picture window.

Marigold met him at the door, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss him,
wrapping herself in one of his arms even as she guided Dawn into his
other arm. When Thule broke the kiss with Marigold, he looked down at
Dawn, looking for any hesitation in her eyes. Dawn reached up, taking
the back of his head, pulling him down to kiss her. He did so
emphatically, already feeling the precious little self control he had
left ebbing away.

When he came up for air, Marigold was there, kissing Dawn passionately
as both shifted against Thule. Dawn kissed her back, first in deadly,
intense earnest, but when they broke the first time, she was smiling.
Halfway through the second kiss, she started to giggle. Then, she
recovered. By that point, Marigold was trying not to giggle. It was no
use. Soon, both of them were giggling. Even Thule was grinning broadly
and chuckling.

"Take off your pants before something happens to them," said Marigold,
"and lie down."

Thule unbuckled his belt, "Well," he said, "aren't you Miss Bossy?"

"You're right," said Marigold, going down on her knees to finish what
he'd started, "forgive my insubordination."

Thule grinned as he stepped out of his pants, "I'll think about it."

Marigold took the pants, folding them neatly, "I'll put these with
your jacket. Be careful taking off Dawn's dress. She may want to wear
it again." Then, she stepped out of the room.

Dawn turned her back on Thule, "Unzip me, please." As Thule complied,
she said, "Marigold really wants this."

"What about you?" Thule asked.

Dawn turned to face him, still in the circle of his arms, "Very much.
I see only two ways the three of us can end up and I like this one
much better than being cut out of your lives."

"There are other arrangements," said Thule.

Dawn shook her head, "Not for us. I want both of you, Thule. I know
it's only for the summer, but I love you both so much." Before Thule
could speak, she put her finger to his lips, "Don't say anything. I
know you don't love me back, except through Marigold. I..."

Thule took her wrist, pulling her finger from his lips, "You don't
know any such thing. The truth is that I didn't let myself ask that
question until recently. I don't know the answer yet, but I know that
you've become very precious to me.

Dawn nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek, "Thank you, Thule. That's
more than I hoped for."

"Are you sad?" Thule asked, "Or, is that a tear of joy?"

"I don't know," admitted Dawn, "I'm just overwhelmed."

Thule leaned down to kiss away the tears. Dawn chuckled silently.
Soon, they were kissing in earnest. When Marigold came back into the
room, she watched them for a few seconds, seemingly amused, before
stepping barefoot across the remnant carpet and leaning back against
Thule, "Now, unzip me, please. If I try to get up on the bed, I'm
going to tear it."

"Dawn," said Thule, "there's an empty garment bag in the other room,
next to where my tux is hung up. Why don't you put your dress in there
before it gets all wrinkled?"

Dawn nodded. By her face, she understood that this was more than a
laundry tip.

"Marigold," Thule said as he reached down to unzip her, "we need to
talk?"

Marigold, holding her hair up unnecessarily, considering that her
zipper started in the small of her back, said, "Not getting cold feet,
are you?"

Thule said, "Not about this. It was too well orchestrated for me to
get out of if I had wanted to, which I did not. I want to talk to you
about Boston."

"What about Boston?" asked Marigold.

"If you want Dawn to join us in Boston, I do too," he said.

She turned and hugged him, "Thule, that's wonderful."

"No," said Thule, detaching her arms from his neck, "it's not. I don't
think you realize what you're getting yourself into. Dawn is not just
some plaything to me."

Marigold got a pained look in her eyes, "Oh, Thule. Is that what you
think she is to me? You and Randy and Brianne may all have playthings,
but I don't. I love her."

"Dammit, Marigold," said Thule as loudly as he dared, "You could lose
me to her. I don't think you understand that."

Marigold laughed, "Thule," she said, "you know that delicate male ego
you like to pretend you don't have?" Thule nodded. "Well, sweetie,
it's making you blind to something that should be obvious to a man of
your perspicacity." She took a deep breath, "You could lose me to her,
too."

Thule sat down heavily on the bed, "You mean that?"

"Yes," said Marigold emphatically, "The day we pulled Dawn out of that
catfight, she told me that her sexuality was entirely theoretical.
And, I realized that mine was, too. I'd never really been with anyone.
I was Lars's plaything and he was mine. But, you had to notice how I
responded to being touched by Maya. Do you think I could have enjoyed
those circumstances if I weren't aroused by her? Do you think I could
have seduced Dawn if it were all an act? Thule, I love you both and
the only happy ending is if I get you both. If I had to choose between
you, I don't know who I would choose."

"I didn't know," said Thule dully.

"I know," said Marigold, kneeling on the bed next to him, "and I kept
beating you over the head with it. Why do you think I asked you if I
could play with girls? Who did you think I meant? Did you think I was
so oblivious that I would throw Dawn at you without knowing you would
get attached? I was praying you would get attached. But, your
goddamned sense of honor kept getting in the way. I want you not to be
able to choose between us because you want us both so much, you can't
live without us. And, I want her to feel the same way about you and
me. I don't want anyone to feel like they can stand to lose anyone
else."

Thule put his head in his hands, "I feel so stupid."

"And you have been," said Marigold, "I kept waiting for you to catch
on. Most of the time, you know me better than I know myself. I know
I'm too young to be making these sort of decisions and I may be making
a mistake I will consider tragic and foolish one day, but I can't help
what I feel."

Thule hugged her, "I love you, Marigold. I would never ask you to
choose."

"I know," said Marigold, "If you were miserable, you would suffer in
silence or you would leave. It's that damned sense of honor, again.
But, Thule, there's more."

Thule chuckled, not entirely mirthlessly, "I don't know if I can take
any more."

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose you, Thule," Marigold said, "You've got
this incredible darkness about you and a deathwish that I'm afraid
won't be satisfied until you're actually dead. I don't believe for a
second that you're going to give up this life once you're through with
the Vandevoorts and be satisfied with just being a mathematician.
Something will bring you out of retirement. The only thing that might
stop you is fear of my disapproval. If you try that, I'll kill you
myself." She smiled fiercely at him, "But, if you get yourself killed
in the process of exorcising whatever demons drive you, I have no
intention of being alone."

The last revelation hurt enough to take his breath away. Thule felt as
close to crying as he had since he realized he had to be strong for
Maya, four years ago. Before he could, though, Marigold said, "I have
no more secrets for you, Thule. Now, let me ask again, before you go
and get Dawn, do you want her to come to Boston next year, to be with
us?"

Thule nodded, "Yes."

"Do you love her?"

"I don't know," said Thule. Marigold sighed, but he cut her off, "I do
not make the big decisions so easily. I've been debating God for
years. You can't drop all this in my lap and expect me to come up with
an answer."

Marigold nodded, "You can't blame me for wanting to tie up all the
loose ends." She kissed him on the mouth, "Now, go get Dawn."

When Thule went into the other room, Dawn was sitting on the bed
farthest from the door in her bra and panties, staring at nothing in
particular.

"How much did you hear?" he asked.

"Enough to know I shouldn't listen," said Dawn, "You look like
somebody just shot your dog. Does that mean what I think it means?"

Thule smiled at her, "Probably not. Marigold and I needed to talk
through some things so we could move forward. Come in the bedroom. We
want to ask you something."

"I...I don't think I can walk that far," said Dawn.

"Then, I'll carry you," said Thule. And, he did, taking her into the
room where Marigold was waiting, sitting on the bed so that Dawn was
between them.

"Dawn, sweetie," said Marigold, "you know Thule and I are both going
to college in Boston next year, right?"

Dawn nodded.

"Have you given any thought to where you wanted to go to college the
year after that?" asked Marigold.

"I..." said Dawn, "I had some ideas."

"We were thinking," said Marigold, "Thule and I were hoping that you
would consider coming to Boston to be with us. Jonas has bought an
investment property plenty big enough for the three of us to live in
until we all finish school. We would like to have you there."

Dawn spun around in Thule's arms, eyes wide. Then, she spun back,
looking at Marigold, "You would?"

"Yes," said Marigold. "Yes," said Thule behind her.

Dawn shrieked with joy, grabbing Marigold's face in her hands and
kissing her, then turning to kiss Thule. Then, she was trying to kiss
both of them at the same time, laughing and crying all at once. Soon,
they were all laughing, kissing, and petting.

Dawn and Marigold conspired now to push Thule down on his back,
stripping him of his t-shirt as he went. Marigold kissed his chest
while Dawn kissed him on the mouth. At the same time, he was dimly
aware of their hands on each other, stripping, stroking and exploring.
Both of them grabbed a side of his shorts and slid them off of him.

"Wait," said Thule as they advanced on him, "slow down. Stop."

They kneeled on either side of him, waiting for what he would say
next.

"I appreciate the effort you two are making to keep this balanced so
that no one is left out," said Thule, "but, it's not necessary to do
it every second." Reaching over, he pulled Marigold into his lap. She
squealed a little, but settled in.

"You," he pointed at Dawn, "are not allowed to touch me in any
meaningful way until I say so. You," he kissed Marigold on top of the
head, "are not allowed to move out of my lap until I release you. Is
that understood?"

Dawn and Marigold both giggled, looked at each other and, in unison,
said, "Yes, Thule."

"Dawn," said Thule, "kiss Marigold."

Dawn looked down, suddenly shy, "Yes, Thule." She leaned forward and
kissed Marigold full on the mouth. Soon, they were kissing and
petting, their hands stroking each other's flesh. Thule listened to
their breathing, quickening in the silence.

"Thule," asked Dawn, "you did say that Marigold was not allowed to
leave your lap, right?"

Thule nodded, "Yes, Dawn."

Dawn smiled, "Good." She kissed a line down Marigold's throat and
belly. Thule couldn't see past her head, but he felt Marigold tense in
his lap. She started to buck her hips upward, but Thule growled, "Hips
down." Marigold's eyes widened, but she complied. Soon, she was
whimpering with pleasure. Thule reached up under Marigold's bottom,
spreading her legs so that they wrapped around his, holding her up off
the bed.

Dawn lay down on the bed, rolling on her back so that she could
position her face under Marigold. As she began licking, Thule felt her
hair brush against his thighs. He decided to ignore the minor
infraction.

"No fair," whimpered Marigold, "You two are teaming up on me."

Finally, Thule reached around, taking one breast in each hand, "You do
not get to complain," he said in amused patience, "This is what you
wanted."

Either the touch or the sentiment drove her over the edge. Marigold
began to come, her body shaking, "Oh, God," she cried out, "Oh, Dawn."
She laid her head back on his shoulder, "Oh, Thule." Thule and Dawn
held Marigold between them, feeding her frenzy, Dawn between her
thighs, Thule kissing her throat and stroking her chest.

Dawn reached out, taking Thule's cock in her hand. Thule growled, "I
did not give you permission to do that."

"So," said Dawn, "tell me to stop." Then, she took Thule into her
mouth, licking and kissing his cock, taking it deep into her mouth,
trying to take it into her throat before backing off. Instead, she
licked it from base to tip. Marigold placed her hand on the back of
Dawn's head like a benediction.

When he was wet and erect, Dawn lifted her head, wrapping her hand
around Thule's manhood before pulling herself up into a sitting
position, kissing her blonde friend on the mouth as she guided Thule
inside of Marigold. Then, she sat on Marigold's lap so that the three
of them rocked together.

"Definitely no fair," said Marigold. She wasn't whimpering this time.
She was trembling on the edge of another orgasm. Even as Thule moved
her legs so that they lay out behind him, her composition wavered. As
Dawn drove down on her lap, she cried out in pleasure, bucking and
rocking. Dawn's arms wrapped around both of them, locking behind
Thule's shoulders. Marigold hugged his chest, her arms locking below
Dawn's.

Thule didn't last as long as he would have liked. Fatigue and
intensity of emotion gave him a fearful, restless intensity that he
was not entirely in control of. When he felt himself skirting the edge
of finality, he pushed, sending Dawn sprawling onto her belly. She
rolled over onto her back with a gasp of indignation. But, Thule was
already guiding Marigold into a kneeling position on all fours. Dawn
reached out, guiding Marigold down on top of herself, kissing her on
the mouth as Thule drove into her. Thule could feel how close Marigold
was to another wave of pleasure and with a supreme act of will,
managed to hold off his own orgasm until he had forced another one out
of her.

For a few minutes, he lay back, spent, watching the two of them lay
there, kissing and petting, their voices a susurration  that did not
rise to vocalization. Outside, it had started to rain and the
occasional sound of cars on wet pavement sounded like surf.

Before long, he sat up, letting his back rest against the headboard.
Every one of his muscles vibrated with a delicious tiredness.

"Dawn," he said, "come here." She crawled to him, setting into his lap
as Marigold had.

Marigold crawled up to them, kissing Dawn on the mouth before she
ordered, "Turn around."

Dawn did, wrapping her arms around Thule's neck, laying her head in
the crook of his shoulder. Her breath was warm on his back. Marigold
came up behind her, spooning vertically, kissing the top of her head,
then Thule's mouth, then the back of Dawn's neck, down Dawn's spine,
and lingering on her coccyx. Then, she worked her way back up the
spine until she was kissing Thule on the mouth again. When she pulled
away from the kiss, she placed two fingertips on Thule's bottom lip,
then licked them from the back of her hand to his mouth. Thule opened
his mouth to kiss her, but she pulled away, taking one of his hands
and sucking his fingers. Thule did the same to hers. She chuckled
right in Dawn's ear. Dawn must have heard something in the chuckle
that made her whimper in anticipation.

Again, Marigold kissed her way down Dawn's spine, licking little pools
of sweat off as she went. When she got to the tailbone again, she
rolled on her back, taking her fingers from Thule's mouth, sliding up
on her shoulders until her head was between Thule's legs and under
Dawn.

Thule could almost see what Marigold was doing with her freshly-sucked
fingers, but whatever it was, Dawn said, "Oooo," not quite a squeal,
not quite a sigh. Then, a few seconds later, she said, "Oh, God," with
great emphasis and dragged fingernails across Thule's back. Somewhere
underneath her, Marigold chuckled, but didn't let up.

Dawn came, holding on to Thule for a long time, rocked by the
pleasure. "Oh, God," she moaned again and again. Right up against
Thule's ear, she whispered, "I'm so going to remember this when I get
my hands on her."

Feeling himself stirring once more, Thule took Dawn's head off of his
shoulder, holding it in his hands, kissing her. Planting a hand in the
small of her back, he kissed her chin, her throat, her breasts. Dawn
moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head as the twin assault on her
senses continued.

Thule was fully erect now, pressed against Dawn's belly as she rose
and fell to some internal rhythm. She reached down, taking him in her
hand again, but he growled in her ear, "If you don't want me to fuck
you tonight, keep doing what you're doing," and she reluctantly
released him.

Finally, Marigold came up for air, pressing herself against Dawn's
back, leaning over her shoulder, kissing Thule full on the mouth. The
taste of Dawn's juices on Marigold's lips made Thule shudder with
pleasure.

Placing his hips under Dawn's bottom, he lifted her until he could
press the head of his cock between her labia. She surprised him by
pressing her heels into his buttocks and impaling herself greedily on
him.

It seemed to Thule like Marigold was guiding Dawn to ride him by
making the motions herself against Dawn's back. Dawn held on to Thule
for dear life, as if letting go would make this all end. Thule kissed
Dawn's throat and Marigold's lips and throat. His hands were on
Marigold's back, holding all three of them together. He let one hand
slide down her back, under and then inside of her bottom.

Marigold tried to protest, but Thule kissed her open mouth, stifling
her voice while using his neck and broad shoulders to pin Dawn against
him while he pounded into her. Bringing his free hand up, he held her
other shoulder down, using the leverage to thrust up into her.

Dawn cried out, biting the thick cord of his neck and his shoulder,
trying to silence herself. Thule kissed her, swallowing her cries.

Knowing he was reaching the end of his endurance, Thule redoubled his
efforts, pounding hard into Dawn. With less support, the three of them
threatened to tumble apart. Thule was forced to take his finger out of
Marigold so that he could use that arm to stabilize them.

Dawn growled her pleasure now, moving as best she could against him.
Thule put all of his energy into driving upwards inside of her. Dawn
shuddered with each thrust until, finally unable to last even one more
second, he came explosively inside of her.

Thule chuckled deep in his throat before wiping Dawn's sweaty hair
away from her brow and kissing her mouth. As he shrank out of her, he
shifted Dawn into one arm and drew Marigold into the other, kissing
Marigold as passionately as he could manage. His muscles actually
shook with fatigue now. It seemed an effort even to lie flat for
sleeping.

Marigold seemed to have other ideas than sleep, though. She climbed
over him, kissing Dawn on the mouth. There may have been more, but he
could no longer keep his eyes open.

Some time later, Marigold nudged him awake, "Look," she said, "this is
why I love this room."

Thule opened his eyes. The sunrise filled the picture window at the
foot of the bed. Marigold lay nestled in between him and Dawn, who
also looked freshly spent, but wakeful. He had just enough time to
admit that it was a beautiful sight, all of it, before falling back
asleep.

When they woke that afternoon, it rained. So, they stayed in and made
love some more. When the rain let up, they drove to Long Beach Island
to have seafood. Then, they came home and, despite Thule's assumption
that he would be good for nothing more strenuous than sleep, they made
love again. When they woke up late Sunday morning, they lay abed
petting and talking and kissing, but did not make love. Thule decided
that even a superspy must have his limits.

Those days were some of the happiest Thule could ever remember. He
relished and savored them, knowing how dangerous the coming ones would
be. It wasn't until they were packing the car on Sunday afternoon that
the outside world intruded in the form of his cell phone ringing.

"Thule," Matika asked, "where the hell are you?"

"Getting some much needed rest and relaxation," Thule said, "what's
wrong?"

"You'll want to get back here," she said, "Randy just shot Ivan and
everything is going to shit."

Princes of Mannsborough, Part 21
by Vulgar Argot
(MFF, rom)


--Vulgar Argot
  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/VulgarArgot/www
--
"Vulgarity begins when imagination succumbs to the explicit."
  --Doris Day

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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