The Diaries of Ayesha

My scrambling was somewhat obstructed by the bondage restraints she had used on me, but I still managed to get moving despite the interference.

Minx finally took pity on me when the leg cuffs eliminated any chance of putting my pants on successfully without destroying them in the process.

"Perhaps we need to get you clothes that you Velcro on so I don’t need to remove the cuffs," she suggested.

"And I suppose that you’ll issue a directive to the HR department to ignore my attire? Thanks a lot Mistress. Then again Evil Matt Savage might be into bondage," I replied kicking the cuffs off.

"I wouldn’t know," she replied primly as she brushed her hair. "I’ve never met him. Heard of him yes, but never met him."

"Well then there is one man you haven’t managed to slay with your deadly charms," I said lightly.

"There are any number of men I haven’t, simply because I’m not interested in them. Remember you are an exception to a rule," she reminded.

"And grateful for it."

The lighthearted mood continued through breakfast and Tia’s arrival to drive Minx to the office.

"Now this is more what I expected from a newly married couple," she said looking around at the bondage toys scattered around from the previous nights activities.

"I’m so glad you approve," Minx said with a wink in my direction.

"I don’t know about that. She’s getting very vocal in her old age," I replied." Just won’t stop talking. Very disturbing."

Tia gave me a poisonous look before realizing that we were teasing and then smiled.

"Very funny Michael. If you can keep your sense of humor with the Mistress’s parents here, you might just survive the encounter," she said.

"Goddess no," Minx spat. "The last thing my parents need to be exposed to is his sense of humor."

I affected a hurt look and pouted until Minx patted me on the head.

"I appreciate your sense of humor most of the time, but my parents probably won’t," she cautioned.

"Heavy sigh. My only real talent, useless," I said sounding like Mork from Ork.

"Nanoo nanoo," Tia replied.

"Tia, I think we should be off to the office," Minx said calling a halt to the foolishness.

"Yes Ma’am."

Minx kissed me on the forehead and the two of them left me to my own devices for the day.

Those devices consisted of writing up notes about the previous night and cleaning up the kitchen as well as myself as I still had remnants of spaghetti in my beard. Those activities took up the better part of two hours at which point I called a halt and decided to get the shopping done. I figured I could clean the toys up later, which in retrospect may not have been a good idea.

I found my good friend Justin waiting across the street in an unmarked car watching the house. I took note of him, waved cheerfully and then got into the car.

I pulled up alongside him and rolled the window down.

"I’m going to the store. Did you want to follow me, or ride along with me?" I offered.

He looked at me with annoyance for a moment and then shrugged.

"Why not? At least then I don’t have to worry about being dumped again," he agreed climbing into the passenger seat.

We talked about trivia during the trip to the store and when we got there he pushed the cart while I picked the items.

"You seem to have changed your attitude in the last few hours," I said as we waited at the meat counter.

" I got to thinking that maybe I’ve been a bit unreasonable about things and leaning on you a little more than necessary," he explained.

"Uh huh. What else?" I asked suspiciously.

He blushed slightly before answering.

"Well I was running surveillance last night and…" he stuttered to a halt.

"Got an earful didn’t you? Hardly a traditional marriage is it?" I asked kindly.

He shook his head.

"How can you let her do those things to you?" he asked finally when we were away from the counter.

I faced him and gave him the simple answer to a complex question.

"Love."

"Love? That was an act of love I was listening to?" he almost shouted.

I just smiled at him.

"Justin, I think you should take a stress pill and think things over," I said calmly. "I love Minkin and I trust her. What better way to show my trust? I place my life in her hands when I submit to her. There are things you don’t know about our relationship that give me reason to trust her. I owe her my life in many ways. That’s how it is."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"I can’t see that as love," he said. "It’s abuse and exploitation."

"And your point is? Justin, it’s my choice to submit to her and my privilege. I’m sorry you’re shocked, but que’ sera sera. Want to get lunch? I’m buying." I concluded.

"I can’t let you do that. We’ll split the check," he refused.

"Deal."

I decided a stop at Hamburger Mary’s would be good that day. I figured that even a civil servant could afford the price of a meal there.

We’d just been served by a very funky girl with more piercings that I could see than Fakir Mustafa had when I heard a loud woman’s voice from the other end of the room calling my name.

"Who’s that?" Justin said startled.

"That is an old friend of mine," I said raising my hand and waving for her to join us.

Geraldine Danger or Gerl Danger was a private detective that Minx had hired to protect and assist me when I was dealing with the Russian Mafia in the Rudenko Affair.

Gerl grabbed a chair and straddled it backwards and faced us.

"Long time no see. You slumming today?" she laughed.

"Hardly that. Gerl, this is Justin Hopper. He’s a Fed," I said introducing them.

Gerl took Justin’s hand and shook it hard.

"What did he do this time? Rob a bank?" Gerl asked.

Justin flexed his somewhat mangled fingers and explained his position.

"Then we have something in common. We both peep through windows on occasion," Gerl laughed.

"Incidentally, I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet, Minx and I got married last week," I interjected.

"That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you both," she exclaimed.

"Well that’s how I met Justin. He thinks we got married as a scam to keep her from being deported. She’s British you’ll recall," I continued.

Justin shrank back in his chair as Gerl turned her attention to him.

"You think they got married as a scam to avoid deportation? You need a serious kick in the ass mister," she said harshly and started to stand up.

"Heel. Sit. Thumping a federal officer is not going to help my case at all," I said waving her down. "He’s just doing his job same as you. He’s been doing a pretty good job at keeping up with me. Except for dumping him at Rudenko’s. By the way, Isis sends her regards."

Gerl grinned at that.

"Is she still pissed off about that little incident?"

I shook my head.

"No, despite Isis being an untrustworthy bitch, she’s been through worse than having a gun shoved in her face. Or a cantaloupe for that matter."

"What?" Justin asked.

"Nothing. Very old joke between us," I dismissed." You and Gerl should probably compare notes on surveillance tactics. She’s pretty good."

"What kind of surveillance?" Gerl asked.

"Audio. Justin has an excellent tape of Minx and I playing around," I said with a wink.

She looked at him disdainfully.

"I hope he has a court order as well. That kind of thing is very frowned upon by the civil liberties folks. Invasion of privacy and all that," she said. "As a PI, I can get away with it, but as a federal officer, he’s got a few more things to deal with."

"Oh really?’ I said looking at Justin.

He shrugged.

"I was told to mount audio and visual surveillance on you and your wife by my boss. I assume that she took care of all the legal details," he said a bit uncomfortably.

"That will look real good in court as a defense," Gerl pushed. "I was with the police department for a few years and screwing up a case like that was good for a reassignment to the meter maids. I’d cover my ass if I was you."

With that she said good bye and walked out of the place without another word.

"Well," I said turning back to Justin." Seems we might have a problem here. Maybe I need to have my attorney look into this."

"You can if you like," he said pushing away from the table." You ready?"

"Guess so."

I dropped Justin off at his car and he drove off, leaving me to deal with the house.

That at least was the plan until I listened to the message waiting on the answering machine.

"Michael, my parents are arriving today at three, not tomorrow at three. I’m stuck in a meeting and Tia isn’t available to pick them up. Get to the airport fast and get them. Take them to my house. Miriam will take care of them. Try not to get involved in any discussions about us with them until I get there to give you some hints," Minx said in a low voiced rush.

Three o’clock. Oh shit, it was two forty-five!

I backed out of the driveway and headed for the freeway. There was no way I was going to make it in fifteen minutes but I was damned well going to try and set a new record anyway.

By the time I got to the airport I was being paged to meet my party at the British Airways passenger lounge.

Summoning up all of my courage, I walked to the lounge and asked the attendant where I might find Mr. and Mrs. Dawes.

She pointed to a well-muscled gentleman in a suit reading a copy of Barron’s and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Get it over with," I thought.

"Mr. Dawes, I’m Michael Forbin," I said standing before him.

He folded his newspaper and looked at a large gold watch he had pulled from his vest pocket before speaking.

"You are thirty four minutes late young man. Not a good way to start with me," he said firmly.

"My apologies…"there’s a polar bear in our car." I almost said and caught myself in time knowing in my bones that his sense of humor was nearly nonexistent.

"Accepted. I take it you didn’t receive word of our arrival until a short time ago. I decided that the Missus and I should leave London early and observe the situation. The announcement of your marriage to my daughter was a bit of a shock to us."

"I can understand that," I replied noncommittally. "By the way where is your wife?"

He shook his head.

"She decided that you weren’t coming and proceeded to hail a taxi. I believe she was going to your house to see if you were there," he explained.

I grimaced at that thought and then turned my attentions to the logistics of conveying him to Minx’s house.

It was obvious that he was less than impressed with my car from the sharp intake of breath when I pulled up to the curb with it and placed his bags in the back.

"I see you use your vehicle hard," he finally said as we pulled into traffic and headed towards the City.

"Mabel’s been good to me as you can tell. Dents, rust and all," I replied.

"Mabel?" he asked querulously.

I merged into the carpool lane before continuing.

"I have a tendency to name cars and machines. Mabel was named for the heroine of Pirates of Penzance. Or at least the Kristy McNichol version of the play. Plucky, determined, and proud," I explained.

"I see. So you like Gilbert and Sullivan. That’s rather refreshing in a young man," he said his tone warming slightly from the frost that had encased his earlier words." I’m rather fond of their works as well."

"Well then we have at least two things in common," I said relaxing slightly.

"Two things?"

"Your daughter and Gilbert and Sullivan," I clarified.

"Well for the moment yes, " he said the tone of his voice turning cold again.

I didn’t say much of anything else for the rest of the drive and was more than relieved to arrive at Minx’s house so Miriam could take over from me.

She met us at the door dressed in a proper maid’s uniform instead of her usual lack of dress and directed me to place the bags in the guest bedroom that I usually used when I spent the night at Minx’s house.

"Miss Dawes sends her regrets, but she will be unavoidably detained until late this evening on business sir," she said to Minx’s father with a curtsy.

"Very well Miriam. We’ll be dining in tonight. I’d like a roast chicken with wild rice and the usual vegetables to be served promptly at eight," he directed.

"Very well sir. Will Mister Forbin be staying for dinner?" she asked.

Minx’s father looked at me for an instant and then nodded sharply.

"I believe so. Formal dress will be optional Mr. Forbin. I suggest you go retrieve my wife however before she decides to have you slowly roasted alive," he said with a very thin smile.

I got back to the house and found the lights on even though I’d left them off when I rushed out to the airport. Bearing this in mind I decided that going in the back door might be advisable rather than marching in the front door.

I opened the door and slipped slowly into the kitchen listening for any strange sounds and looking for any signs of forced entry. A rustling sound caused me to grab the rolling pin from its hook and press myself against the wall holding my breath.

The noise happened again and I recognized it as the pages of a book being turned.

Most burglars don’t read during a robbery, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I crept through the dining area and peeked around the corner to see a well-dressed older woman sitting in my chair reading my copy of TREE FROG with a teapot and cup sitting next to her on the end table.

"Tell me Michael do you usually creep through your own house with a rolling pin?" she said without appearing to look up.

"Not as a rule, but as an exception. If you’re familiar with Martin Woodhouse’s works, Giles Yeoman had a tendency to be a bit cautious as well. I won’t ask how you got in because that would be a tedious exercise at a minimum. Either you have a key, or you have a talent for picking locks," I said relaxing slightly.

"Actually both," she said carefully marking her place and laying it down. "Why don’t you put that thing down and sit?"

I lowered the rolling pin and walked into the room and stood before the intruder.

"Do I have the honor of addressing Mrs. Dawes?" I asked politely.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement of her title.

"You do. I take it my husband informed you of my annoyance at your tardiness at the airport," she stated.

"He did ma’am, as well as expressing his own. I was not informed as to the change until shortly before your arrival. I was dealing with a small legal issue," I explained." My instructions from your daughter were to pick you up and drive you to her house for dinner."

"And what other instructions did she give you?" she asked with a small smile.

I considered a number of answers and decided to tell the truth.

"To keep my mouth shut until she was present to oversee any conversation about our relationship?" I said wryly.

Her mother lost that small smile instantly.

"I’m sure her instructions didn’t include insolence," she said coldly.

"I’m sorry you take it as such," I said sincerely. "She just wants to make sure I don’t insert my foot in my mouth down to the kneecap."

"I take it you make a practice of that?" she said rising from the chair.

"I think I just demonstrated that," I replied and indicated the front door.

"Indeed you did. You are staying for dinner," she said as a statement of fact rather than a question.

"Your husband has already issued an invitation, thank you."

The smile reappeared for a brief instant and disappeared as quickly.

"Interesting," she said and led the way out the door leaving me in her wake.

"Father, I did what I thought was the best thing to do under the circumstances," she was saying as Miriam took Mrs. Dawes' coat.

"How long has that been going on?" Mrs. Dawes asked.

"Since her arrival Ma'am," Miriam answered hanging the coat up." May I get you anything Ma'am?"

"Yes, I think a small sherry is in order actually. Michael, I suggest you absent yourself for the moment."

"As you wish. Miriam, if you could arrange a cup of coffee for me, I'll be in the library until called for," I said with a bow to Mrs. Dawes.

I sat in the library and tried to concentrate on anything other than the battle I had walked into on arrival. I didn't like the idea of Minx throwing her entire life into total chaos in order to stay married to me and risk being disowned. Part of me wanted to go out and join the discussion but the other part of me saw the wisdom of following Mrs. Dawes' suggestion to stay out of the way.

When Miriam brought me my coffee I asked her how the battle was going.

"I'd say it's still about even. Her father is on the offensive, the Mistress is on the defensive and her mother at this point hasn't said much at all. I suspect when she does, it's going to make all the difference."

"That woman is really something. She was actually waiting in the house for me when I got there. I didn't even know she had a key, or for that matter how she could have a key," I said taking the cup.

"So far as I know Master, she shouldn't have had one. There was a spare here but the Mistress has that one now," Miriam replied.

"Very interesting. I take it you'll let me out of here when dinner is ready?" I asked playfully.

"Allow you to miss a meal? Hardly," she said with a wink.

When dinner was finally announced I'd developed a major appetite and an attitude problem to match having had perhaps too much time to think.

I took a place to the right of Minx, her father having usurped her normal position at the head of the table as Miriam served the meal and then at a signal from Minx withdrew from the room.

"Before we start the meal I'd like to say that while you might be a decent man, I have my doubts that you are a suitable consort for my daughter," Mr. Dawes announced raising his wineglass in a salute to his daughter.

She returned it as I considered any number of replies, only a few of which were repeatable in polite company.

"I can see your point sir. I just don't happen to agree with it," I replied, saluting the Mistress as well.

"Michael, " she said softly with a slight shake of her head.

"I didn't expect you would," he replied, the conversation turning to less delicate topics.

Miriam had outdone herself on the dinner and despite the less than congenial company, I began to relax and enjoy myself listening to Minx's father and mother tell me some stories about her youth.

I won't repeat them here, but suffice it to say she was as unusual a child as she was a grown woman. Seems she had a tendency to tie up little boys when she was younger playing cowboys and Indians according to her mother who gave me a knowing look.

I wasn't sure what to make of that until I thought about the condition of my house after the previous nights playing. There were more than a few sex toys and a fair amount of rope laying in plain sight.

"I just wish she would realize that those sorts of activities are not proper for a well bred young woman," Minx's father said sharply.

"Father, my sex life is my business and mine alone," Minx replied tartly. "We've had this discussion more than a few times in the past and I think it's time you accepted that."

"As long as you are my daughter, I expect you to conduct yourself as a lady," he said pointing his finger at her accusingly.

I'd had enough at that point.

"Sir, she may be your daughter, but she's my wife. Kindly remember that when you speak to her," I said warningly.

"She is your wife under circumstances that are dubious at best, and I'll thank you to stay out of this discussion," he replied sharply.

I stood up at that point and leaned on the table towards him.

"Mr. Dawes, I resent that last statement," I said as calmly as I could.

"I'm sure of that. Now, let's cut to the bottom line shall we. How much do you want to just disappear from her life?" he said taking out a checkbook and uncapping a pen. " Shall we say fifty thousand dollars?"

"You can say what you like sir, but the answer is no," I said in annoyance.

"Every man has his price. I just haven't found yours yet," he said putting the pen and checkbook away.

I thought about the offer from Isis and Kali of money and sex beyond my dreams of avarice and smiled to myself.

"If you ask your daughter, I believe she'll tell you that in some ways I am incorruptible."

"Sans peur et sans reproche," Minx agreed with a loving smile.

Her father shook his head as I sat back in my chair.

"I understand how you feel, but surely you can see she's just using you to solve a problem," he pointed out.

"I think you have the mistaken impression that I'm stupid. She made me totally aware of the situation before we got married and I agreed. And if and when the time comes to leave, I shall do so, but with only the best of memories. Sir, I love your daughter and if nothing else I'm a willing servant to her needs," I said skating dangerously close to the truth of the matter.

Her mother raised an eyebrow at my choice of words and I became even more aware of her power, much like Minx's, a subtle power, waiting only for the need to use it. Could she be an ally after all?

This train of thought was derailed by Miriam returning to clear the table and we moved the discussion to the living room where I found myself assuming my normal position at Minx's feet as her father continued his argument.

His other arguments were logical, well thought out, precise and utterly devoid of understanding about our relationship

"And so you can see that this marriage was an ill conceived idea. Minkin can transfer to one of the other offices until she can clear up this whole immigration bollix," he summarized.

"Are you through?" I asked.

"Yes," he said firmly.

"Good. Now I'd like to say something if I may," I said, winding up for a speech.

"You may not," Minx objected defiantly." Father, I can speak for myself on this matter. I am not getting a divorce, I am not leaving this city and I am not going to let you browbeat Michael or myself. If you insist on this course of action, I will resign and go to work for Barclays'. And if I go, I'll take as many accounts as I can with me."

"Minkin I will not be threatened by you," her father thundered. "You're still my daughter and technically my employee as well."

That was when Mrs. Dawes finally spoke.

"Wallace, Minkin, I've heard quite enough from both of you. And you as well Michael. Don't speak until you're given permission to," she said with a sideways glance at me. "I don't want you getting athlete's tongue."

"Wendolyn…" Mr. Dawes started to say before he fell silent under her eyes.

"Mother…" Minx said and then stopped.

"Now, I want you all to listen to me. Wallace, Minkin is old enough to solve her own problems and frankly you know bloody well she will quit if you push any more. As to you Minkin, your father is only trying to help and while I know you resent it, he does mean well. As to Michael, he and I are going to have a small quiet talk in the garden," she said crisply rising from her chair and walking towards the door.

I looked up at Minx and shrugged in confusion before rising and following Mrs. Dawes into the garden.

She sat in the gazebo and indicated a place at her feet.

"Sit here Michael, at my feet," she directed.

I did as ordered and waited wondering what she would say.

"I know you serve my daughter and I'm sure you serve her well. I suspect Minkin gets some of her attitude from me," she said with a wry smile. "Be that as it may, if you are going to be a member of this family you will have to respect my husband. Not like him, but show him the respect that he is due. You're really very much alike, with the exception of your sex lives. Stubborn, intelligent, determined to do the best for Minkin. I can see why she loves you, although I'm sure she denies it for the most part. You are in some ways a father figure."

"I said that to her once and her reply was that her father has a better figure," I said lightly.

"Perhaps, but you have the same heart," she said." Now, when we go back inside I want you to excuse yourself for the evening. Go home, clean up the mess, and for goodness sake put the sex toys away. Wallace would have a fit if he saw them."

"One question first. Do you have a key or did you pick the lock to my house?" I asked.

She smiled a Mona Lisa smile and shook her head.

"That will be a puzzle for the reader to solve…Doctor Forbin."

Before I could react to being identified, she had gotten up and was headed back to the house, leaving me behind still mystified.

When I returned to the living room I made my excuses as I had been instructed and to my pleasure, Minx offered to walk out to the car with me.

As soon as the front door closed behind us, she took my hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Thank you my pet for not arguing with my father any more than you did. I think you made a good impression on him," she said as we walked.

"Your father is a grumpy old walrus, but he did assist in producing the most beautiful woman in the world today, so I have to give him a few points," I teased. "It's more your mother that's confusing me. How much does she know about us?"

"What do you mean?" she asked stopping me.

"She was in my house when I got there. Now unless she has a key or picked the lock, she shouldn't have been. She saw the toys laying around and didn't comment on them at all."

Minx shrugged.

"Well she knows I'm into the Scene. I don't know how much more she knows. It is odd that she was in the house. Are you sure you locked the door?" she asked.

"Yes I'm sure I locked the door. She also knows I'm Doctor Forbin for another thing."

Minx smiled.

"Well that's not exactly a secret any more. She might have seen your picture on the web," Minx suggested.

"Mistress, one simple question: Is she a Daughter?" I quizzed.

Minx looked at me, her expression serious.

"Michael, I honestly don't know. If she is, I've never been told."

"Well if she isn't, she sure should be. By the way, I took Justin to lunch today at Hamburger Mary's and ran into Gerl Danger. She rattled his cage but good. She planted a couple of seeds of doubt in the legality of the surveillance with him. With a little luck he may lighten up."

"That would be nice, " she admitted. "I'd really rather not have my parents involved with him if we can avoid it. They're planning on leaving Sunday night, so with a little luck we'll make it without a problem."

"I hope so. It's going to be a long weekend Mistress," I said with a sigh.

"For both of us mine sklave, " she said touching my cheek.

With a quick kiss she walked back to the house and I set off for home, already regretting the separation.

Male bonding is the interpersonal chemical reaction that occurs when two or more men get together with an adequate supply of food, drink and stimulation such as football, baseball or some other sport.

In women, the same effect is accomplished by a shopping expedition.

This being said, Minx and her mother went off the next morning to bond in exotic locations such as Macys, Neiman-Marcus, and Bergdoff-Goodman, leaving her father and I to entertain each other for the day and try and bond together.

Frankly I was more inclined to think super glue was going to be a necessity to achieve a true bond, but I'd promised her mother that I'd do my best and in doing so implied the same to my Mistress.

I decided that a little tourist activity might get the ball rolling or the glue set as it were and suggested breakfast down at the Eagle Cafe on Pier 39.

Breakfast passed without any incident and he actually seemed more relaxed than he had the night before. I still didn't get a warm fuzzy feeling from him, but at least I didn't feel like I was considered a plague upon his house.

After breakfast we walked towards Ghiradeli Square making our way through the crowds of tourists that filled the Fisherman's Wharf area even at that hour of the morning, stopping briefly to look at the World War Two submarine that was open as a museum.

"My father served in the Royal Navy during the war on a destroyer," Minx's father commented looking at the boat.

"I spent my weekends when I was younger serving as a caretaker for a sub much like this one. Never served in the military, but worked with a lot of them in my life," I said nodding towards it.

"Sounds a bit boring," he offered.

"Well all I really had to do was make sure it didn't get vandalized. It's amazing what you can do with a 20mm cannon," I smiled.

"Good lord, don't tell me you fired at people!" he exclaimed.

"Of course not, but if you saw a cannon start tracking you, you'd think twice about boarding. After all a Smith and Wesson beats four aces," I disclaimed.

"I'll have to make it a point not to play poker with you," he said. "Not that I'm much of a gambling man."

"It's not my best game I have to admit. Blackjack is more my speed. Although I think all bankers are gamblers at heart, just on a larger scale," I replied.

He looked at me sharply.

"My family has gambled as you put it, quite successfully for the last hundred and fifty years Michael. I'll trouble you to remember that," he warned.

"And I've spent the last couple of years helping your daughter when I can in those matters. The Johnson and Associates issue for one," I reminded him.

"Yes I know. She says you have good instincts about things like that. And while you aren't on the books as an analyst, I know you've been doing some of the work. I also understand that you have transferred to the MIS department. Why?"

"Policy. Married couples can't work in the same department and while there are exceptions to every rule, I don't choose to be one of them. It would cause more trouble than it's worth," I explained.

"Stupid policy," he muttered. "Only in America."

"And you don't have stupid policies in Britain?" I jibed.

He smiled for a moment before admitting that bureaucrats were the same everywhere.

I took a moment to look around and spotted Justin lurking at a discreet distance behind us.

"Speaking of bureaucrats, we're being tailed by one. The gentleman in the suit about 20 yards back and to the left. The guy with the bad tie," I observed.

Mr. Dawes glanced casually in the indicated direction and nodded.

"I take it that is the man from the INS that I was told about," he said.

"Yes indeed. Looks like he still hasn't learned his lesson yet. Do you want to take him with us, or dump him?" I asked.

"Well he does offend my sense of decorum with that tie and he would seem to be the main reason for this situation we're in. What do you propose?" he asked.

I'm not sure yet. Let's keep walking and we'll let the fates present us with a choice," I said starting back in the direction of the tour boats that carried tourists between the pier and Alcatraz as well as other points around the bay.

"How about a sea cruise?" I suggested as we walked along.

"Well I should think he'll be waiting for us when we returned," Minx's father objected.

"He can wait all he likes, but we won't be back. Trust me," I said.

"I don't know why I should, but I'll let you lead the way," he harrumphed.

I bought the tickets for the boat and we walked down the pier towards the gangway marked for the harbor tour, Justin staying a discrete distance behind us and then stopping as it became apparent to him we were boarding the harbor boat.

At the last minute however I pushed Mr. Dawes towards the next boat over and hurried us down the gangway as the boat was sounding its whistle to leave. I turned back towards Justin and shouted a good bye as we pulled away bound for Sausalito.

He just raised his hands in defeat and shook his head in disbelief that I'd done it to him again.

"You truly enjoyed doing that didn't you?" Mr. Dawes scolded.

"I did indeed sir. I could have done much worse, but I do bear in mind he's only doing his job as he sees it," I said as the boat plunged its way across the choppy waters of the bay. "I've actually got some sympathy for him. I just don't have any sense of humor left on this subject."

"It seems I may have misjudged you at least to some degree. You seem rather resourceful in a pinch," he admitted.

"Thank you sir, I do try."

If you only knew how resourceful I've had to be since I became involved with your daughter, sir, you'd have a heart attack, I thought.

"You enjoy the sea don't you," Mr. Dawes said watching me watching the birds.

"I do sir. You daughter commented on it as well when we were in La Jollia once. I enjoy watching the sunrise at sea. It seems to renew the whole world."

"Yet you never became a sailor," he said. "Why not?"

I shrugged.

"The sea may be one of my loves, but my talents pointed in a different direction. I considered joining the Air Force, but the aptitude test showed I'd be a better mechanic than the weatherman I wanted to be. The funny thing was, I couldn't change a bicycle tire, so I chalked up the results to the recruiter trying to fill quota rather than something I could really do well," I explained.

"And you prefer to stick to the things you do well, rather than extending yourself. Sounds a bit lazy to me," he said firmly.

"More like being the best in my field rather than being a jack of all trades and a master of none. I've got a rather extensive number of talents, but prefer to keep focused. Think of me as a trainee polymath and you have the idea," I suggested.

"John Brunner. Excellent author," he said surprising me by knowing the reference." I thought Stand on Zanzibar was one of his best works."

"Actually the polymath was mentioned first in Castaway Planet. The reprint was named Polymath," I corrected. " I'm rather a collector of science fiction personally."

"Then we need to compare collections sometime," he said sounding interested in something about me for the first time.

"How about after lunch we go book hunting? I know some great used bookstores in the area. I think you'd enjoy them," I offered.

"I would like that. Perhaps when you come to London to see us, I can show you the book stores I frequent," he proposed.

"Actually, there is one place in London I'd really like to see. Or at least see if it exists. The White Hart pub," I replied.

He laughed for the first time.

"I'll tell you what Michael, I'll do that if you can find Callahans Bar for me in return."

By the time the ferry docked we were actually talking like old friends instead of adversaries, arguing the merits of British science fiction as opposed to American science fiction in print form. The debate really got going when the time came to discuss science fiction on television.

"Wallace," I said taking the liberty of using his first name as I led us towards Antonio's," as much as I enjoy Dr. Who, you can not compare it with Star Trek or even Babylon-5."

"May I point out that Dr. Who has been running longer than any other science fiction show including Star Trek," he replied.

"You may indeed, and some of the stories have been excellent over the years, but not the same caliber as Star Trek."

We entered the restaurant and took a table near the door as Antonio handed us menus and greeted me warmly.

"We haven't seen you around in a while Michael," he said pouring water for us.

"Ah well, affairs of state. Speaking of affairs of state, Antonio, this is Minkin's father," I said with a wave of my hand.

"You have a very fine daughter sir. I wouldn't be in business if she and Michael hadn't helped me," he said placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Well the Bank does try and help small businesses when we can," Wallace said with a small smile.

"Oh it wasn't anything like that at all. I was having a little trouble with some people and they took care of it. Like magic, presto, no more problems. I'll have Lucinda come right over to take your order," he said, hurrying off to greet another pair of customers, and pointing his daughter towards our table.

After Lucinda had taken our orders, Wallace gave me a penetrating look.

"And exactly what kind of people was he having problems with?" he said quietly.

"The kind named Vito and Guido. A question of insurance payments if you know what I mean. However a word here and there cleared the issue up without any bloodshed. At least none that I ever heard about," I clarified.

"My daughter was involved with the Mafia?" he sputtered.

" Never heard of them," I deadpanned." These were just some punks with an attitude and an accent. Some friends of ours showed them the error of their ways."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"I hardly think it was that simple, but I'll trust you."

"I never lie," I replied while thinking, I simply withhold the qualifiers.

After lunch we grabbed a cab and rode back to the City in a companionable silence until we reached the bookstore I had directed the driver to take us to.

We must have spent at least two hours digging through the stock at McDonalds Books before moving down the street to Fantasy Inc. It was on that leg of the trip that we passed the O'Ferrall Theatre and my past sins caught up with me in the form of a very attractive young lady wearing a skin tight pair of pants and a top that almost didn't cover her

"Hello Michael, how is Dominique?" the girl asked.

I had to think for a moment before I remembered who she was. Miranda was the young lady that Dominique and I had interviewed for her article on commercial sex in the City.

"Oh fine I think. I haven't seen her for months. She dropped out of sight just after we interviewed you," I said trying to ignore the bemused look from Wallace.

"Are you coming in to see me tonight? You haven't been around in a long time," she reminded.

"Actually dear, I just got married," I explained.

"Congratulations!" she exclaimed. "Now we'll probably see you more anyway," she teased.

"Michael, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend," Wallace prompted.

"I'm sorry Wallace. Wallace this is Miranda, Miranda this is my father in law Wallace," I said hastily.

"Charmed," he said taking her hand and clasping it for a moment.

It was in that particular moment that trouble started.

"Hey baby, why don't you get your ass inside and make some money," a voice called from the door of the theatre across the street.

"I'll be there in a minute," she called back. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Pete's waiting for me," she said apologetically

"Boyfriend?" I asked.

"Kinda. Protector you might say," she said looking back towards the theatre.

"Pimp you mean," Wallace said coldly as the subject of the discussion came out of the shadows of the doorway and crossed the street towards us.

He was about six foot three and about as wide with some very serious tattoos on even more serious biceps and his attitude was down and locked.

"When I tell you to get your ass moving I mean it," he growled at her while giving us a don't fuck with me look.

"Excuse me but we were doing some business here," Wallace said to my surprise. "Now I expect you at my place after you get off tonight," he said to Miranda taking out his wallet.

"Hey man, I handle her business," the behemoth objected.

"Not any more," Wallace said handing the wallet to him." As of now, you are out of business."

Her protector took the wallet and laughed.

"How so?" he said thumbing through the contents

A short tone from a siren called my attention to a police car pulling up to the curb alongside us.

"Hold it right there!" a voice called as the door of the car opened. "What's going on here?"

"Actually I was just being robbed by this man before you came along. He was threatening this young woman and my son in law and I intervened," Wallace explained.

"OK you, against the car," the cop said as his partner took the wallet away from Pete.

"Hey man, I didn't do shit. He's lying," he protested.

We waited while Peter got patted down and to no one's real surprise was carrying a knife in his boot.

"That's all folks. You have the right to remain silent..." the first cop said giving Peter his Miranda rights as Miranda herself watched with a mixture of fear and relief.

"You'll need to sign a complaint," the second cop said as the first one put Peter in the back seat of the patrol car.

"I'd be happy to. As a visitor to your city, I'm very pleased with how well patrolled the city is. It's not London of course, but I'm quite satisfied," Wallace said shaking the officer's hand as he handed back Wallace's wallet.

I just stood there amazed. The last thing I would have expected was a stunt like that from Wallace Dawes, but he pulled it off like a professional magician doing a card trick.

"I'd suggest you move along. This isn't the best of areas for a tourist," the officer warned.

With that, he got back in the car and they drove away, Pete looking back at us with a furious expression

"Now Miranda, I expect you to resign tonight and on Monday morning I want you to call Dawes, Jones, Mosley and Grubbs and ask for Mr. Forbin. Michael, make sure that the HR department finds suitable work for her. If not in the Bank, Transglobal Insurance should be able to use a new file clerk. I assume you can spell?" he said addressing Miranda again.

"Uh yes sir I can," she stammered. "But why would you...?"

"I dislike pimps my dear. Always have. Good evening," he said and walked away leaving me behind. I shrugged and hurried after him leaving Miranda with a confused smile on her face.

"I'm surprised," I said as we walked towards the next bookstore on the tour.

"Why? Because I intervened? Michael, I do have certain beliefs and customs I follow. One of them is to show kindness to everyone and defend the weak. From what I've learned about you today we have that in common as well as books and my daughter. I have a certain amount of power and I try and use it where it will do the most good. In this case, I've given a young lady a chance to take on a normal life instead of selling her body."

Part of me disagreed on the use of the word "normal", preferring instead to use the term mundane, but that's always a matter of opinion.

I've never had an issue with a young lady or young man for that matter, willingly selling his or her body.

Willingly being the key word in that sentence.

Wallace didn't mention our adventure at dinner that evening, so I decided to keep silent as well, leaving the ladies to talk about their discoveries and to plan our outing for the next day.

"I thought we might take a run down to Santa Cruz tomorrow. Perhaps we could stop in Felton. The train ride is wonderful this time of year," Minx said

"Well I vote for that," I agreed.

"What type of train Minkin darling?" Wendolyn asked.

"There is an old steam train that goes through the redwoods. It stops about halfway around its route at a picnic area. Perhaps we could have a picnic as well," Minx offered.

"That sounds very pleasant Minkin. I'm sure that Miriam could prepare something suitable for us," Wallace agreed.

"I'll tell her," I said rising from the table.

"Sit down Michael. Just ring for her. After all she's just a servant," Wallace said.

"I'm sorry," I said regaining my place. "Miriam is not just a servant. She's been a good friend to me as well."

"Of course," Wendolyn agreed." If you prefer to tell her in person, you should. Go on now."

Minx looked at me and nodded slightly as I stood again and then left the room.

Miriam was sitting in the kitchen in her maid's uniform reading a cookbook and making notes when I came in.

She sprang to her feet startled and curtsied before me.

"Did you wish something sir?" she asked, her head bowed.

"Yes. Stop calling me sir," I replied gently." At least here and now. I'm well aware that at some point I'll be calling you Mistress, so I'm trying to cover myself."

She looked up and laughed softly.

"I'll try and remember that when the time comes," she teased." What did you need?"

"A million dollars and a stress pill actually, but I'll settle for a picnic lunch for tomorrow. We're taking the Mistress' parents to Felton," I explained.

"Very well sir, sorry Michael. I'll get started right now, " she said fighting to conceal a yawn.

"No you won't," I corrected. "You'll do it in the morning after breakfast. Or before if you prefer. Get to bed."

"Is that an order?" she teased.

"As a matter of fact yes. "

She raised an eyebrow and gave me a Spock like stare in reply.

"Yes Master," she said and with a final bow, withdrew from the kitchen into her room.

I returned to the dining room and explained I'd sent Miriam to bed after giving her the order.

Wallace looked at his watch and shrugged.

"A bit early, but if that's what you want, it is your house," he said.

I could have died right there and then as I looked towards Minx who sat with an annoyed look on her face.

"My house Father. Please remember that," she said coolly." Michael prefers that we live in his house until the INS is satisfied that our marriage is legitimate."

"As you wish," her father replied with a sidelong glance at her mother. "I defer to your judgement. I would suggest however that he sleep here tonight or Mr. Hopper may become suspicious."

Minx looked at me and at her mother who nodded just slightly.

"I'd intended he would. After all we are married," she said curtly .She stood up and held her hand out with two fingers extended. "My husband, attend."

I touched her fingers and said my good nights to her parents and followed her from the room staying a respectful three paces behind her.

Chapter 28 Sections 1 to 3

The Odd Couple
The Parent Trap
Bedtime for Bonzo