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From: "Sam Grume" <grumbles@linuxmail.org>
Subject: {ASSM} Tam and Claire 2/5 {uncle grumbles} (Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, nosex, slow)
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Date: Wed, 17 Dec 2008 04:10:10 -0500
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author: Uncle Grumbles
title: Tam and Claire 2/5
summary: Niece Tam impresses Aunt Claire with her baby-sitting skills; 
Uncle Carl brings news of Tam's Mom.
keywords: Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, nosex, slow
keywords: awakening

======

This is the first substantial work of fiction I've ever attempted; my 
pardon for any rough spots, incongruities, factual errors, or plain 
idiocy.

In particular, at each chapter the story repeatedly turned down paths I 
did not predict while writing the previous chapter. There may, therefore, 
be some bumps where the pavement does not quite match up. Sorry, but I'm 
desperate to get this thing posted. As I have time, I'll go through and 
try to fix up any problems I find. 

Feedback, positive or negative, is very welcome, and will help me do 
better next time, if the lightning strikes again, and there is a next 
time.

A kind word in email is as good as gold here, and a lot cheaper. 

  grumbles at linux mail spot org

OK? OK.

Ready and set and Here. We. Go:

======

Tam and Claire, chapter 2: Colic

[recap: Tam is staying with her Uncle Carl and Aunt Claire over summer
vacation.  She's developed something of a crush on her Auntie, which has
begun to grow into something more intimate.  ]
   

"I want to know, Claire. I want to know it all."

Oh, right, Tam, a real little scholar of Eros you are, thought Claire. 
It's been almost a week, you've barely spoken to me, and when you do, 
it's a very correct "Aunt Claire". Don't I even rate as "Auntie" 
anymore?

That's not fair, she chided herself. You obviously took the poor girl by 
surprise, and she just needs time to process.

Besides, it wasn't like Tam was avoiding her; she was rarely out of 
sight. Cooking dinner, doing laundry, cleaning house, whatever -- Tam 
was often watching, sometimes helping, occasionally undoing what had 
just been done, but she would blandly turn away if any notice was taken.

Most troubling to Claire was that Tam no longer touched her. For as long
as Claire had known her, Tam had been a warm little blob of mercury 
merging into Claire's pool, bumping into her, hugging her, sitting in
her lap, holding hands, getting underfoot.

Now Tam might be close, but would rarely touch. If Claire tried to hug
her, or pat her on the shoulder, or hold her hand, Tan would simply...
not be there. Cold mercury running through Claire's helpless fingers.

There were other signs. Tam was never in the solarium, though it had 
been her favorite spot. She no longer used the wedge pillows as back-
rests. The duck-taped bra was nowhere to be found.

Claire was terrified she'd gone too far, too fast, broken the 
girl's trust. 

However. 

However,  Claire learned to keep her eyes, hands, and thoughts to 
herself, and found Tam working by her side more and more.  

However, a few evenings ago, Claire had been listening to Beethoven's 
Ninth in the music room, and at the start of An Die Freude Tam had 
drifted in and sat on the floor at Claire's feet, slowly tumping over 
until she was leaning against Claire's leg. When the recording ended, 
Tam had gotten up and walked out without a word, and Claire had been 
astonished to find cooling dampness on her skirt where Tam's cheek had 
been. Tears?

However, two mornings running, Claire had woken to find Tam curled up at 
her feet, wearing nothing but panties. Both times, Claire had lain in 
bed, bladder aching, barely breathing, for around half an hour until Tam
opened her eyes, nodded sleepily at Claire, slid off the bed, and padded
away without a word. Ten minutes later, she would be down in the 
kitchen, dressed and cheerfully humming to herself while making her 
usual breakfast mess in the kitchen. 

However, the biggest "however" was Erica. Erica and Tam were turning 
into a real team, and in her presence Tam was almost her old self, 
laughing and chattering and carrying on. She was right by Claire's side
whenever Erica needed tending, and often did the tending herself, which
was a huge help to Claire. "Baby mess", as Tam called wet and dirty 
diapers, almost didn't exist for her; it simply disappeared during play. 
Her bathing technique was impeccable, better, Claire admitted, than her 
own: she never, ever, got shampoo in Erica's eyes, despite the baby's 
happy thrashing and splashing.

Tam also rarely missed Erica's meals, at least the big ones during 
the day. Claire treasured these doubly now, for Tam would lean against 
her side, peacefully watching Erica feed. 

This evening, however, things were not going well. Erica had been 
offered a good dinner, including a tiny spoonful or two of baby food 
apple sauce, which was becoming a favored treat. 

But Erica would not be satisfied. Time and again she sought the breast,
sucked once or twice, then turned away scowling. Her paci was somewhere 
on the floor; they'd given up searching after the fourth spit-shot. 
Erica would not suffer herself to be laid down. Tickle-foots were 
obviously beneath her dignity. Belly-blubbers were a human rights 
outrage demanding UN intervention. Claire was walking around with Erica 
on her shoulder, patting her back, trying to get her to burp, or spit 
up, or whatever, but it was no good.

Tam caught her eye. "Colic," they said in unison, and smiled at the 
mutually confirmed diagnosis.

"Here, let me try something," Tam said. Claire handed off the irate 
little badger. Tam sat down on the floor, back against the wall...
unbuttoned her shirt, and put Erica to her insignificant breast. 

Claire might not have been in the room for all the concern Tam showed. 
It was as matter of fact as a diaper change.

Erica calmed immediately, but after a few good sucks, realized she 
wasn't getting anything, and bit. Hard.

"Ow!" cried Tam. "You nasty little viper!" She reached up and flicked 
her fore-finger against Erica's mouth, then dumped the shrieking infant 
on the floor next to her, and scooted away, a heartless abandonment
of, oh, six inches if it was a mile. She ostentatiously rubbed the 
tattered remains of her nipple, inspected her palm for blood, crossed 
her arms, put her knees up, and scowled at her diminutive former best 
friend, now worst enemy.

"I told you she bites," said Claire. 

"Pfft. Wake me up when she can bite food that hasn't been 
pre-chewed, pre-digested, and spit into her mouth."

They watched Erica scream her outrage for another two minutes; then the
cries became...worried, somehow.

"Oh, poor little princess," mocked Tam, putting her hand to her cheek. 
"Did the nasty cruel universe not hop to baby's royal whim?"

The cries became bereft.

"Oh, stop it. Nobody believes babies anymore."

Finally Tam took pity, and picked Erica up again. Erica calmed
immediately, looking up at Tam with huge eyes. She
turned her face to Tam's shirt, and Tam again put her against...the same
breast, Claire noted. Bravely done.

Erica gave another a few sucks, then stopped, but did not take her 
mouth away.

"Don't you do it," warned Tam. "I'm trying to be nice, here."

Erica calmly stared up at Tam, a perfect angel of innocence.

And bit.

"You goddamned little traitor thug!" yelled Tam, again thwacking the 
rosebud lips with her fingertip, again all but dashing the babe's brains
out (while carefully cradling her head) on the cold hard (carpeted) 
floor. This time the Chasm of Banishment was a whole two feet.
Tam turned away, her hunched back a promise to never, ever again have 
anything to do with poopy little worms that bit, ever! 

Somehow, the outraged wails didn't last so long this time, but quickly 
tapered off to a kind of half-hearted, self-pitying blubber.

Tam looked over her shoulder and winked at Clair.

The jungle cat suddenly spun about, looming over her helpless prey, 
showed her teeth, and growled low in her throat. Erica hushed 
immediately, looking for all the world as if she wished there were 
underbrush she could disappear into. To no avail: the carnivore teeth 
(gently) snagged a baby nipple, and shook it (minutely), threatening 
disembowelment. 

"One more time, do you hear me? One more time."

There appeared to be a truce. 

Tam picked Erica up, shrugged her shirt off her shoulders, and put the 
mouth on the unmolested nipple. 

Erica began to suck, fiercly at first, asserting her right to use her 
mouth any way she pleased, thankyouverymuch, but gradually calmed to a
slow, even pulse. Her eyelids drifted to half mast.

Claire picked up a pillow, and dropped it behind Tams' back. She brought
another one over for herself.

She snuggled up and put her arm across Tam's shoulder. Tam didn't react,
and for a moment Claire thought the bright little ball of mercury would
skitter away again, but then it melted into her.

Thank the gods, Claire thought. Thank the gods. 

"That was very well done," said Claire, a few minutes later.

"Eh, I was lucky. Colic's not usually that easy." But her smile 
betrayed her pleasure at the praise. 

"Is your nipple OK?"

Tam cautiously rubbed herself, wincing.

"I'll live. I've watched her chew on you pretty good, and you've still 
got more than me."

They grinned at each other.

Some time passed.

"Claire?"

Claire again. Whew. Bless you, Tam, Bless you, and please that I never 
hurt you. 

"Tam?"

"This is really nice. I see why you do this all the time."

"Well, besides the screaming if I don't."

"Besides that, yeah. But it's really nice. I'm sorry I don't have 
any milk to give her."

"I'd be jealous if you did. She's my toy, young 'un, mine. If you want,
I'll get you one of your own for Christmas." 

They giggled.

Claire took her hand off Tam's shoulder, and began to pet her hair. Tam 
leaned her head against Claire.

"Tam?"

"Claire?"

"Have I said, Tam, how very much I love you? How happy it makes me to
have you here with me, with Erica?"

Quiet, for a minute, then a gruff, "'s good to be here. I...I..."

Of course, Claire's cell choose that moment to go off, with the opening 
bars of Bach's grand challenge to the gods, the Toccata and Fugue in D 
minor, comically rendered as the tweedle-dee of a mouse's pipe organ.

She leaned over, kissed the top of Tam's head.

"That's Carl's ring. About time."  Carl had, in fact, programmed it 
himself, as a fan-fare when he'd been trapped in Oslo, and learned of
the pee-stick turning blue to herald his daughter's conception.

She fished the phone out of her pocket, flipped it open.

"Sweetie! Where are you? ...Uh huh... Oh, around here somewhere...
Right... I love you, Carl." "Me too!" "I love you and miss you and"
"I wanna talk to him too!" "need you...bye bye." This last as she strove
to keep the phone out of Tam's grasp.

"I wanted to talk to him!"

"He's driving, honey. He just turned off the Interstate; he'll be here
in about forty minutes. He wants to talk to you, too."

"Did he say anything about Mom? How's Mom? Does she miss me?"

Claire was getting up. "She does, honey. She misses you a lot. I need
to get some things ready for Carl. Put Erica down for me, OK?"

"OK. Uncle Carl! Wow! I wonder what he brought me this time!"

===

When Uncle Carl's lovingly souped up Jeep roared into the 
turning circle, Erica was fast asleep, and Tam and Claire were in the 
kitchen setting out sandwich makings for a light dinner. Uncle Carl 
liked to eat on the road, and usually had almost no appetite -- for 
food, anyway -- when he came home. 

Tam bounced out the door and rocketed down the walk. Carl was not a 
slight man, and he braced himself, but he still staggered when Tam
leapt at him from three feet away.

She was covering his face with kisses and babbling about 
breast-feeding Erica when she discovered he was hugging her so hard she 
could barely breath. He hadn't spoken, and his face was like stone.

"What's wrong? It's Mom, isn't it? What's happened to her? Is she 
alright? When can I talk to her?"

Uncle Carl just hugged her again, and carried her into the house, into
the living room, and sat her down on the couch. He brushed the hair out 
of her face, kissed her forehead, crouched down before her, and put 
a steadying hand on her knee. 

Claire hovered next to Tam. Carl had hinted on the phone, and she'd had
to leave the solarium to compose herself, but now the scale of the 
disaster was in his face, in his stance, in his silence, and Claire had 
her hands over her mouth and tears running down her cheeks.

"Tam, this is very hard for me to say, and it's going to be very hard 
for you to hear. You need to be as strong as you can be."

He paused for a second. Tam stared at him blankly.

"Tam, you know you Mother sometimes...has boyfriends for money, right?" 

Carl thought Tam nodded, although it might have been just her swaying 
from the rollicking train ride of continental drift.

"Tam, Lynn...got greedy; she tried to steal from one of them, more
than three hundred dollars out of his wallet. He turned out to be an 
undercover police officer, and he arrested her. She fought him, hit him, 
gave him a black eye and almost broke his knee cap. That's called 
"resisting arrest", and "assaulting an officer", both very serious 
crimes, not to mention the prostitution and robbery. I got her a lawyer,
Tam, a very good one, but she would not listen, would not do what he 
said. Lynn fought with everyone who tried to talk to her, including the 
lawyer, even me, and cursed the judge, and in general made a serious 
nuisance of herself. I've seen the surveillance videos, and they've got 
her dead to rights. Tam, Lynn's very likely going to prison, for a very 
long time. If she does, you probably won't get to talk to her, at all, 
for at least six months, and not outside prison visiting hours for at
least five years, probably a lot more, depending on how badly she 
behaves. I love my sister dearly, Tam, I'd do anything to help her, but
sometimes she is just so goddamned stupid not even I can...."

Things were happening in flashes. Tam heard a sharp noise, like a single
clap of applause, and her palm stung. There was the taste of vomit. She
was walking to her room. She was lying on her bed. 

There were grown-ups arguing outside her door. She knew how this went:
they might throw things, or hit each other, or even hit her, sometimes, 
but eventually, they'd go away. No matter what, there was nothing she 
could do about it.

This time, they just went away. 

So did she.

===

"Thomas Carl Anderson! If you so much as breathe on that doorknob, you 
will never touch me again, do you understand me? Never!"

"She hit me! Dammit, my nose is bleeding! Nobody hits me in my own 
house!"

"But what did you do to her, Carl? What did you do that made her puke
on the living room rug and slap you like I should have myself? How 
could you do that to her?"

"I told her the truth, Claire. She had to hear it, and it's best over 
and done, clean. She's a strong girl, and I..."

"And you? And you what? And you're a bloody stupid engineer, that's 
what! You ripped a square yard of skin from right off over her heart! It
would have been kinder to just tell her her Mom was dead! Damn you, 
Carl, damn you, when you called we were, she was...oh, gods, Carl, she'd
better be strong, because I don't know what I'll do if you've broken 
her. You're bleeding on the carpet. Tilt your head back. Kitchen. Now,
mister!"

"Look, I'm sorry, but I just spent a whole week with the lawyers, with
the cops, with the damn prosecuting attorney, with fucking shrinks, 
Claire, you know how I hate shrinks, even social workers, all at about a 
thousand bucks an hour. I also spent about five minutes with Lynn, all 
I could get, and that five minutes was worse than all the rest. I've 
been carrying my sister all her life, but...."

"But jack fucking shit, Carl! She's not Lynn, you jerk, she's not 
your sister, she's not a stupid loser whore, she's TAM'S MOTHER, Carl,
her MOM, and Tam thinks she's the golden sun that rises in the morning 
and makes the pretty bluebirds sing. And you've just pissed on the sun 
and put it out. Congratulations, mister big firehose man.... Stop 
fooling with your nose. Tilt your head back, I said. Let me see it. Take
your hands down.... Oh, quit whining, you big pussy. She didn't break 
it. She's lucky she didn't use her fist; she'd've broken it on all the 
rocks in there. Here's some ice." 

"What was I supposed to say, Claire? What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, Carl, truly I don't, but shoving an innocent child's face 
in a shit pile she didn't make was not it."

Silence. Then:

"Something's wrong with Lynn, Claire. The shrinks say she may have had
some kind of psychotic break. My sister's broken, and I can't help her, 
and she's going to prison. Oh, gods, I'm gonna have to call Mom and Dad 
and tell them. I'm gonna have to do it over the phone, Claire. Oh, 
Lynn, Lynn, Lynn, what have you done?"

He was crying, suddenly, great wracking sobs, with gobs of bloody snot 
running down his face and on to his two hundred dollar shirt. 

===

They talked. Finally, Claire heard Erica crying, but by the time she got
there, Tam was already changing her diaper, blank faced. Tam did not 
respond to Claire's voice or touch, simply moved around Claire as if she
were an inconveniently placed floor lamp. Tam did off the clean diaper, 
put Erica back in the bassinet, walked to her room, and shut the door. 
Claire picked Erica up, and began to nurse her. Carl came into the room, 
and sat on his marriage bed holding his silently weeping wife, watching 
his daughter feed. 

===

In the morning, Claire awoke to Carl dressing for the road.

"I've decided to take another day, and fly out to Mom and Dad's. I can't
do this to them on the phone. Then I have to go to Vancouver, have
to, or they'll eat Morris alive. That's going to be two weeks at least.
If you need time alone with Tam, call Gale at Dispatch; she knows the
score, and can arrange maid service, or a nanny for Erica, or 
whatever. "

"Carl, my rock, my anchor, my belove-ed day planner, I think Erica may 
be the only thing keeping Tam alive right now, but thank you. I'll keep 
it in mind."

"Are you sure I shouldn't stay, try to apologize, maybe let her slap me
again, kick me in the balls once or twice...?"

"Carl, you block head, I love you, and I know you love Tam, and mean the
best, but no. This is something we girls will have to work through 
on our own. I'll call you when it's safe to come back."

"Is...Is Tam going to be alright?"

"I don't know, Carl, truly. There's something strange....no, no, nothing
like Lynn, Tam is much stronger than her mother, but she's had to...
shield herself. You broke that shield last night. I don't know what that
will do. It was ready to go anyway, starting to crack, and it may be for 
the best. Only... I wish it hadn't been so hard a blow, so sudden, or 
come when it did. Even another few days, and it might have been gone on 
its own. Now -- either it's back at full strength, and she'll go into
hiding again, or all the ugly truth in the world is gonna come pouring 
down on that sweet girl's head, and destroy her. I don't know."

Carl studied her face. Strong men had burned away under that gaze, but 
Claire loved and trusted him, and he loved and trusted her, and she 
could have basked in it for a thousand years.

"Claire, take care of my little girls for me, please?"

"Carl, take care of your Mom and Dad, save whatever is worth saving for 
Morris, skin the arrogant little prick good to pay for all this, and 
come back to us as soon as you can, because we love you and need you, 
even though you're an idiot." 

She hugged him, took his arm, and walked him down the hallway. As they
passed Tam's room, Claire stopped, put her fingers to her lips, and 
cautiously opened the door. 

Tam was curled up on the floor at the foot of her bed, panties only, 
breathing in the slow tide of deep sleep. She had her thumb in her
mouth. Claire motioned Carl in. He crossed the floor silently, knelt, 
and gazed at his niece for a long time in something very like 
penitential worship.

Finally, he reached out and brushed the hair out of Tam's face, then
bent and kissed her shoulder. In her sleep, she felt the touch that had 
comforted her all her life, that meant she was safe and loved, that had 
never once hurt her, and she smiled.

"Goodbye, chipmunk," Carl prayed. "I'm sorry, so very sorry. I'll bring 
you something nice next time. Take care of Claire for me, and Erica, and 
yourself. Be strong, Tamia, be strong."

He got up, kissed his wife long and hard, walked out of his dead 
brother's bedroom, walked out of the house he grew up in, and drove away 
in his lovingly souped-up Jeep.

=======
Disclaimer: 

Of course this is a work of fiction, and I made all these people up.

SFnal elements: Neither Child Protective Services nor STDs exist
in Tam's world. This, and a few other dramatic anomalies, will not be
explained, because damn it, we're here for the fantasy sex.

CPS, STDs, etc., definitely do exist in our world; you are warned.

=

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