Chapter Nine

   She was all business at the hospital, and even Bob couldn't tell she'd
been having orgasms on the way there.  They were again denied access to
ICU, this time by a different nurse.

   "Your father will be moved to a regular room today.  We're getting him
ready to go now.  You'll have to wait until he's in his new room to see
him," she said.  "Your mother is still in a coma and will remain that way
for at least another day.  She's doing better, though.  You'll have to be
satisfied with that.  I can't let you in there because of the risk of
infection.  I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is."

   She was unbending, a bureaucrat doing her job, and not even Bob could
sway her.  Instead of trying to argue, Bob pulled Jennifer away from the
doors to ICU and went in search of someone who could authorize her to sit
and read to her mother.  His argument was simple.  She was willing to gown
up or do whatever anyone wanted her to do in the name of infection control.
She wasn't sick herself.  Medical journals suggested that some patients in
a coma could still hear, and being spoken to by a loved one was believed to
be helpful sometimes.  She just wanted to sit and read to her mother.

   He spent two hours asking to speak to one supervisor after another until
they got high enough in the food chain to find somebody who had the
authority to approve her request.  In the end all she had to do was put on
scrubs and a mask.

   By then, though, Don had been installed in a semi-private room, and
Jennifer didn't know whether to go see him or stay with her mother.

   "We fought hard to get you here," Bob said.  "Spend some time with your
mother.  Get them used to the idea that it's OK for you to be here.  Then
you can tell them you have to go, but you'll be back.  Don't get in the way
and don't bother the nurses, OK?  I'll go see your dad.  He'll understand
why you're not there yet.

   She let herself be swayed by his argument and he left her there, taking
her jacket and helmet and leaving her with only the book.  Then he went in
search of room 362A.

   When he got there he was politely informed that visiting hours were
between six and eight in the evening and that the patient he had requested
to see had just arrived on the floor and needed his rest.

   Patiently, or at least in a voice Bob thought was patient, he explained
the circumstances and that Don needed to know some things that, quite
likely, nobody was telling him.  Finally he explained that the man's
daughter had been authorized to visit her mother in ICU and that, if they
wanted him to, he'd be happy to return to the same administrator and get an
authorization for them to visit Don, too.

   Had the nurse been honest, she would have admitted that she just didn't
like Bob's appearance.  She wasn't honest, though, so she stood on a policy
that, truth be told, wasn't really enforced all that stringently.  It was
easier to cave than fight, so she caved.

   Don was awake and alert when Bob entered the room.  The breathing tube
had been removed and Don was breathing on his own, albeit somewhat
shallowly.

   "Didn't know if I was dreaming or not," he whispered.

   "Thought you were having a nightmare?" Bob smiled, but his heart wasn't
in it.

   "Is Jen really here?"

   "She's with Susan," said Bob.  He explained everything he knew about her
condition and treatment, and what Jennifer was doing.

   "She's gonna be OK?" Don's voice rasped.

   "She's better today than she was yesterday," said Bob.  "She's a tough
old girl.  She has to be to have survived living with you this long."

   He got a weak smile, followed by a grimace.  "Hurts to breathe," Don
said.

   "You fucked yourself up pretty good," said Bob.  Then he told Don
everything he knew about his condition.

   "Glad they could save the leg," said Don softly.  "This is fucked up,
though." He closed his eyes for a few seconds and then opened them again.
"Thanks for taking care of Jen."

   Bob felt his inner conflict flare up.  He had no secrets from this man,
and he didn't want any.  He wanted to tell Don what was happening to his
daughter, but this wasn't the right time.  The man had enough on his plate
without having to worry about his little girl.

   "I'm trying," he said, feeling like he was lying through his teeth.

   "She's a handful," said Don.  "But you'll do OK.  You've had to go up
against much worse." He smiled then and kept it on his face.  "Damn I'm
glad you're here."

   "No problem," said Bob.  Then, to change the subject and entertain his
brother in arms, Bob told him about what had happened to Matt, and who had
answered the call, and finally what Bob had done about it.

   Don reacted like a SEAL.  "Have you checked in with him since you left?"

   Bob shook his head.  "Had other things on my mind.  Ripper said he'd
hang around for a while.  I gave the ear to Matt.  I should have kept it so
I could show it to you." His grin was wolfish.

   Don shook his head.  "Thanks, but no thanks."

   Bob shrugged.  "In all the years we were SEALs we never did that shit. I
have to admit, though, it felt pretty good at the time and Matt had a shit
eating grin on his face when I handed it to him.  If nothing happens I'm
sure he'll toss it." = Bob was still sitting there, slouched in a chair
with his booted feet stretched out and crossed in front of him when
Jennifer bounced into the room.

   "Daddy!" she sighed, as he turned his head to look at her.  She started
toward the bed.

   "Don't hug me!" said Don in an almost normal voice.  She stopped,
confusion on her face.  "Ribs hurt," he added.  She advanced and picked up
his hand instead.

   "You l-l-look b-b-better," she said.

   "Baby, you have no idea how much I've wanted to hear your voice," said
Don.  "How's your mother?"

   Jennifer slumped.  "They s-s-say sh-sh-she's doing b-b-better, b-b-but
she j-j-just lays th-th-there."

   "Bob said you're reading to her." Jennifer nodded.  "Want to read to me,
too?" he asked.

   She nodded, smiling.  "Sh-sh-shure!" She held up the book.

   Don squinted at it.  "Ahhhh, your mother's favorite author.  How weird
is this one?"

   "P-p-pretty w-w-weird," said Jennifer, smiling.

   "Well then your mother will love it," said Don.  "And I'll try to love
it, too.  Having you read it to me will make things better, I'm sure."

   Bob stood up.  "I'm going to go for a walk," he said.  "I don't want
them to have any excuse to say that you're getting too many people in
here."

   Jennifer looked at Bob for the first time since entering the room.

   "C-c-come get m-m-me for l-l-lunch?"

   "Sure thing, sweet cheeks," said Bob automatically.  He felt his face
begin to flush as what had been a common nickname for her took on new
meaning.  He hurried out, leaving her jacket and both helmets there.  = Don
watched Jennifer get comfortable in the same chair Bob had been using.  He
felt such enormous relief that she was there, and that she hadn't had to
come to recover bodies to bury.  He knew her stutter would disappear
completely when she was reading, and he was pretty sure he could go to
sleep, lulled that way by her voice.  He watched as her foot hit a helmet
and she leaned down to move it.

   "How was it, riding a motorcycle here?" he asked her.  "You're not used
to that."

   "It w-w-was f-f-fine," she said, opening the book.  "It h-hurt m-m-my
b-b-butt the f-f-first day, b-b-but it's b-b-better n-n-now."

   "Which bike did he bring?" asked Don, just out of curiosity.

   "It's b-b-black," she said, turning another page.  "H-h-he c-c-calls it
th-th-th B-b-babe B-b-bike."

   Don's eyes widened.  "Did you say the Babe Bike?" he asked.  He knew all
about the Babe Bike.  Bob had told him all about it one night while they
were having a beer together.  Don had complained that he never got to do
something like that and wondered if Bob would let him borrow it to ride
Susan around, just for fun.  Bob had agreed, of course, but he'd never
brought the Babe Bike when he came to see them.

   "Uh huh," said Jennifer, turning one more page.  Then she sat back with
her finger on the first sentence in the book.  Something in his voice
alerted her that this was interesting to him.  "Why?"

   Don thought about it.  He knew Bob came straight from helping Matt, so
it must have been pure coincidence that he had THAT bike when he picked
Jennifer up.  Had his little girl been exposed to what that thing did?  She
had to have, unless Bob rigged it not to, somehow.

   "Nothing," he said softly.  "I've never seen that one, I don't think."

   Jennifer tossed her hair out of her eyes.  "B-b-bob said s-s-something
b-b-broke on it, b-b-but it g-g-got us here f-f-fine."

   Don didn't know whether to smile or cry.  He knew his daughter was all
grown up, but he still felt very protective of her.  He usually tried to
hide that, because she needed to learn how to survive on her own.  She
couldn't stay home with her mommy and daddy forever, as much as Don wished
she could.  He wasn't about to ask her what it had felt like riding on a
seat specifically designed to get a woman going.  And for so LONG!  Bob had
to have done something to lessen the sensations.  Don decided he was going
to ask him, the next time he saw him.  That much was certain.

   Then Jennifer started reading, and he let the soothing sounds of her
voice wash over him.  He was right.  Within twenty minutes his eyes were
drooping and he was perfectly comfortable with taking a little nap.  = When
Bob returned to the room to collect Jennifer, both the girl and her father
were dozing.  He touched her shoulder and she woke up.  She smiled up at
him, closed the book that was lying in her lap, and stood up.  She held one
finger up to her lips, telling him not to wake her father.  Then a nurse
came in as they were leaving and woke Don up to take his vital signs.

   "I'll b-b-be b-b-back," Jennifer said, going back to kiss him on the
cheek.

   "OK," he said.  "I'll be here."

   It wasn't until they were gone that he remembered what he was going to
ask Bob about.  = Bob looked at her as they approached the bike.

   "Why didn't you bring the pillow?" he asked.

   "D-d-don't n-n-need it," she said simply.

   "About last night," Bob said.  On his walk around the hospital grounds
he'd decided that they needed to confront things.  Now that she knew her
parents were going to be all right, and wasn't so worried, he just wanted
to get it out of the way.

   She reached for his hand.

   "L-l-let's g-g-get some l-l-lunch," she said.

   "We have to talk about it sometime," he said patiently.

   "N-n-no we d-d-don't," she said, pulling him along when he tried to
stop. "Unless y-y-you w-w-want to d-d-do it ag-g-gain r-r-right now."

   "No!" he yelped.

   "I'm h-h-hungry anyw-w-way," she said, letting go of his hand and
putting on her helmet.  She waited for him to get on the bike.  When he
didn't, she pointed, authoritatively.  When he was seated, she climbed on
behind him and wrapped her arms around him, putting her hands inside his
open jacket.

   He only drove them two blocks, to where he remembered a Mexican
restaurant being.  When he cut the bike off, she pinched his stomach.

   "N-n-no fair!" she complained.

   "What's not fair is what you're doing to me," he groused.

   She laughed.  "Am I m-m-making y-y-you h-h-horny?" She wasn't
embarrassed at all when he looked at her and was staring right at his face.

   He didn't answer.  Her brow furrowed and she very carefully said:
"Chicken!"

   "We're not done talking about this," he said heavily.

   "G-g-good," she said calmly.  "B-b-because y-y-you're m-m-making m-m-me
horny."

   Bob threw up his hands and followed her inside.  She was still giggling.
= She didn't pick at her food, but she took her time.  It was two o'clock
by the time they left to return to the hospital.  How he got through that
afternoon, Bob would never be able to say.  Part of it was spent dealing
with Don.  They wouldn't let Bob on the ICU ward.  HE wasn't authorized,
but they welcomed Jennifer back like she was a sister.  So he went down to
sit with Don while Jennifer spent another two hours reading to her
unresponsive mother.

   They watched TV, making fun of the daytime programs and talking about
this or that during commercials.  Bob had been there for an hour and a half
when Don remembered to ask about the bike.

   "Did you really bring her here in the Babe Bike?"

   It caught Bob by surprise.  "How'd you know that?" he asked, instead of
answering the question.

   "She told me," said Don.

   "She told you." Bob felt like he might be getting an ulcer.

   "She said you claimed something was wrong with the bike."

   "I did," said Bob.  "I couldn't help it.  That's the bike I took to go
help Matt.  When she called, I didn't have time to go get another one." Don
just stared at him and he felt compelled to defend himself.  "I got her a
pillow to sit on." He almost blurted out that she refused to use that
pillow, but then bit his tongue.

   "Hmmmm," said Don.  A nurse came in and fiddled with his IV.  She said
supper would be there in fifteen minutes.  The way she said it and looked
at Bob was clearly as much for his benefit as it was for Don's.  Her
unspoken suggestion that the patient should be left in peace to eat was
loud and clear to Bob, but went right past Don, who was still thinking
about...things.  "So how'd she know what you called it?"

   Bob hadn't felt this exposed since an Iraqi insurgent had walked by,
five feet from the shadow he was standing in.  His mind flailed.  He
couldn't just lie to this man.  And the urge to confess was upon him too,
for some reason.

   "I forgot all about it until we'd been on the road for an hour," he
finally admitted.  "She was...um...having a rough time.  When I realized
it, I got her the pillow...and told her something must be loose."

   "Good grief," sighed Don.

   "I'm sorry!" moaned Bob.  "I was so concerned about getting here that I
just took off."

   Jennifer breezed into the room just then, and the conversation was
suspended, much to Bob's relief.  Jennifer asked her father how he was
feeling and brought him up to date on what the nurses had told her about
Susan.  Then Don's supper arrived and Jennifer said they'd be back later
that evening so she could read to him, too.

   The culmination of his afternoon difficulties was her attitude as they
left the hospital.  She slid her arm through his as they walked out, and
pressed her breast against his biceps.

   It was clear that she was as unrepentant about what had happened between
them as it was possible to be.  Not only that, but her whole attitude
suggested that the coming evening would challenge Bob in ways he'd never
been tested before and had no training to deal with.

   Well...almost no training.  He DID give some thought to tying her up. 
But if he did that he'd have to gag her too, and he wasn't willing to go
that far.

   It was probably for that reason that, after they had eaten--again having
a quiet and vaguely tense meal--when she said, "L-l-let's d-d-drive around
for a wh-wh-while," he simply pointed the bike west and tried to see if he
could get lost.  He felt her hands regularly squeeze his stomach, and with
each squeeze he hoped she was getting it out of her system.  He drove
aimlessly around for an hour and a half before he had to stop for gas.  He
got off and stood there, looking at the silly smile on her face.

   "Are you going to behave yourself tonight?" he asked, swiping his credit
card and starting the pump.

   She just looked at him, her face unreadable.

   "Please?" he almost whined.

   "I have t-t-to go r-r-read to m-m-my f-f-father now," was all she said.

   When they got back to the hospital she took her helmet off and fluffed
her hair.

   "Y-y-you c-c-can c-c-come in and l-l-listen."

   "I know," he said, confused.

   "Or y-y-you could g-g-go b-b-back to th-th-the m-motel and c-c-cancel
m-my room.  You're j-j-just w-w-wasting y-y-your m-m-money." = Bob sat
between the two beds in the room, with his back to the old man who was
Don's roommate.  He and the old man were listening while Jennifer read.

   Bob had decided to go into the hospital with her, primarily because, if
it came up, he felt like he had to be able to tell Don that he'd gotten two
rooms.  He felt like he was lying to his best friend, but the last thing he
needed was for Don to try to get out of bed to beat his ass for taking
liberties with Jennifer.  There would be time for that later.  Bob was
quite sure it would eventually happen.  Things were spiraling out of
control.

   As he listened to Jennifer's soft voice reading flawlessly, it suddenly
occurred to him that maybe he was wrong.  Maybe he should actually confide
in Don EVERYTHING that had happened.  Then maybe Don could talk some sense
into his daughter.  Things hadn't gotten completely out of control yet. 
But he couldn't do that with Jennifer in the room.  He knew she'd get crazy
if he started telling her father what they'd done.

   So, basically, all he had to do was get through one more night without
anything bad happening and, tomorrow, he could bare his soul to his brother
and beg the man to help him avoid catastrophe.

   "Funny," said the old man, from behind Bob.  "She sounds so normal when
she reads."

   "Yeah," said Bob.

   "Cute girl."

   "Yeah," Bob said again.

   "You're a lucky man," the old man sighed.

   Bob turned to look at him.  "What?"

   The man smiled a tired smile.  "I may be old, but I still 'member what
it was like being with a pretty girl like her."

   Bob felt a spark of anger, but controlled it.

   "That's not the way things are," he said softly.

   The man blinked and glanced over at Jennifer.

   "That's a cryin' shame," he said.  = The ride back to the motel didn't
take long.  Jennifer acted as though there was nothing wrong and nothing to
talk about.  She walked past the door to her room and waited for Bob to
open his.  Then she walked into his room and put her helmet on his
credenza. She tossed her jacket on his chair and stretched.

   "I'm g-g-gonna go t-t-take a sh-shower," she said, and disappeared
through the connecting door into her room.

   Bob knew she'd be back.  He knew she expected to sleep in his bed again.
He knew she expected him to give her the same kind of attention he'd given
her last night.

   In truth of fact, his body wanted the same thing, ignoring the brain
that objected to all this.  The thought of her in the shower was making him
hard.  Principles always give way to hormones.

   His principles weren't quite ready to give up yet, though they were
becoming a little tattered as he tried to think of a way to give her
something, without giving her too much.  He thought about beating off while
she was in the shower.  Then he decided he'd just stay dressed.  He could
give her a few orgasms and she'd go to sleep like she had last night.  All
things considered, he tried to convince himself, last night had gone pretty
smoothly.  It really was no big deal.  She'd already had fun on the bike
tonight, and he'd give her a little more fun and she'd be fine.

   He was still trying to decide what to do when she reappeared in the
connecting doorway.  She was rubbing vigorously at her hair with a towel,
and she was as naked as the day she was born.

   "It w-w-would be n-n-nice t-t-to have a b-b-blow dryer," she said,
conversationally.  She appeared to be completely at ease with her nudity in
front of him.

   "Yeah," he said helplessly, watching her breasts jiggle as she rubbed at
her hair.

   She tossed the towel aside and raked her fingers through her platinum
locks.  Then she walked to the bed and turned it down on her side.  She got
in, arranged pillows to prop herself up half way, and lay back, pulling the
covers up to her belly button.

   "W-w-would you g-give me th-the remote?" she asked.

   He got it and handed it to her, standing beside the bed while she
clicked the TV on and began channel surfing again.  Within a minute he felt
stupid, shifting from foot to foot, trying not to look at her breasts.  She
was ignoring him, her attention on the TV, but he couldn't ignore her.

   "Can we please talk about this?" he finally asked.

   She looked at him, and then at the remote.  She pushed the mute button.

   "I d-d-don't see th-th-the p-p-problem," she said.

   "I know you don't," he said, eager to keep her talking now that she'd
started.  "Just listen to me, OK?  All I want you to do is understand how
dangerous this all is.  Remember what it feels like on the bike?"

   She nodded.

   "OK, and what I did to you last night...that was better, right?"

   She smiled and nodded.

   "And you want to do it again, because it was so much better.  But the
thing is, honey, that there are always more and more things to do, and they
all feel better and better, and you don't want to stop, and pretty soon
you've gone all the way and it's too late."

   "I d-d-don't see th-th-the p-p-problem," she said, in the exact same
tone she'd said it before.

   "The problem is you're a virgin, baby!" he almost shouted.  "You need to
save that for a special man...the man you love and who loves you and who
you're going to stay with.  It's your gift to him and he'll love you for
saving it for him alone.  All this is fun, but it's very serious, too, and
it's getting more and more serious all the time.  You can see that.  When
you got on my bike to come here you would never have thought of letting me
see you naked.  Now you're lying in my bed naked and you expect me to DO
stuff to you!"

   She tossed the remote on the bed beside her and threw the covers aside.
She got up and stalked, rather than pacing, around the room.

   "Y-y-you KNOW," she said loudly, "th-th-that there's n-n-not g-g-going
to b-b-be some s-s-special man!" She put her hands on her hips. 
"N-n-nobody c-c-can st-stand t-t-to h-h-hear me t-t-talk, Bob!  Y-y-you
know th-th-that." She stalked over to him.  "I'm n-n-not s-s-stupid, Bob."
She stared up into his face.  "Besides," she went on.  "I l-l-love you and
y-y-you've m-m-made it p-p-perfectly clear h-h-how m-m-much you l-l-love
m-m-me.  Y-y-you're trying t-t-to p-protect me f-f-from s-something I
d-d-don't want t-t-to be p-p-protected f-from!"

   "I wasn't talking about me," moaned Bob.

   She put her hands on his shoulders.  "I am," she said softly.  She
stared into his eyes.  "L-l-love me, Bob."

   His mind whirled.  This wasn't the little girl he'd watched growing up.
This wasn't poor little Jennifer...bright, but handicapped by a speech
impediment that he almost didn't even notice any more.  Gone was the little
girl, replaced by a woman who thought she knew what she wanted.

   Her hands moved to the hem of his shirt and she pulled it up, inch by
inch, until she couldn't move it any further.  She kept tugging, silently
willing him to raise his arms.  He did, eventually and she worked the shirt
up and over his head.  He helped then, and tossed it on the bed, while her
hands smoothed over his chest.

   "I l-l-love you, Bob," she whispered.  "I l-l-love th-this."

   She leaned forward to kiss his chest and then slid her hands around
behind him to pull her naked breasts against his skin and rub them gently
back and forth, in a sensuous writhing motion that couldn't be learned, but
was the result of the natural urge to blend her body with that of her
lover.

   "I can't make love to you," he whispered.  Her arms tightened.  "Not all
the way," he amended.  She ignored him and kissed his chest right beside
one of his nipples.  "I want to," he sighed.  "That's the problem."

   "L-l-last night w-w-was fine f-f-for m-me," she whispered.

   "Sweetie, I had to go into the bathroom and masturbate to keep from
raping you."

   She looked up at him with clear, trusting eyes.  "C-c-can't I d-do that
f-f-for you?" She was thinking about what she'd seen Bambi doing to the men
in the movie.  She'd thought it was disgusting when Bambi put her mouth on
that man's penis, but the idea of doing that to Bob wasn't disgusting at
all.

   "This is just so crazy," he moaned.

   "Please?" she whispered.  "L-l-love me?  L-l-let m-me l-love you?"
   
