Braided Lives (18 page)

"Sort of."

"You still feel blurry to me," she said.

"Blurry? Is that a technical term?"

"Hey, it's the closest word I can think of. I'm going to call Peter."

***

"Hey, are you still in Vegas?" asked Peter when he answered the phone.

"Nope, we're almost home. We're in the Atlanta airport at the moment, and we have a problem," replied Jennifer. She spent a couple minutes giving him the run-down of what happened on the plane.

"Damn, shit, and fuck," Peter muttered. "That's the third time he's had something like that happen."

"Third? Is this a permanent problem?" Jennifer glanced down at Danny. When she called Peter, Danny had stretched out full length on the floor, with his head in her lap.

"I have no idea. I don't know what's causing it, and that bothers me. He and I went to a concert in Virginia Beach. It was pretty crowded, like maybe twenty thousand people. For lack of a better description, he got his circuits blown. It was pretty bad -- migraine, vomiting, coordination issues. How much longer is your layover?"

"We have another hour and a half, or thereabout."

"I assume he's right there with you?"

"Yeah, he's lying with his head in my lap."

"Let me talk to him."

Jennifer handed the phone to Danny. "Talk to Peter."

Danny's end of the conversation seemed to be confined to "Yeah… so-so… yeah, some… okay." He handed the phone back to Jennifer.

"So what do you think?" asked Jennifer.

"He sounds tired and grumpy. If he'll go for it, I think you should get him to eat something. Stay with him as much as possible. I know that's not always feasible, bathroom trips and such, but do what you can. There's not a lot I can do from here. What time is your plane due into Norfolk?"

"Right around midnight."

"I'll be there. And Jen…" Peter said.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm glad you're with him."

***

Peter waited impatiently in the Norfolk airport, watching the arrivals board. He'd spent the last couple of hours racking his brain for reasons why Danny was having these problems. If the hour hadn't been so late, Peter would have probably picked Stephen Benford's brain for ideas, too.

He caught sight of Danny's tall form coming down the hall; Jennifer was only visible through breaks in the crowd. As Danny got closer, Peter noticed that he had a hollow-eyed, exhausted look. Jennifer had Danny by the hand.

"Seems like every time I pick you up at the airport lately, you look like absolute hell," said Peter. He pulled Danny down in a kiss and let his healing Talent rifle through his lover's body at the same time. He detected muscle tension and erratic nervous system conduction along with fatigue and a building headache. Danny's shields felt battered and uncertain, too.

"Love you, too," replied Danny, a snarky tone in his voice.

Peter gave Jennifer a kiss, too. "How was he on the hop flight from Atlanta?"

"Okay, I guess. He slept a little," she replied.

"That's probably good. Let's head for home. I want to do a neurological exam."

"I'd rather just go to bed," complained Danny.

"I know," said Peter sympathetically. "But this whole thing is really worrying me."

***

It took twenty minutes to collect luggage and another forty-five minutes to get back to Division P. Even Jennifer was seriously dragging by the time they got there. Danny was less than thrilled at having to sit on the exam table in the infirmary while Peter had him perform a whole series of test maneuvers like squeezing his hands and touching his nose.

"Take off your shoes and walk heel-toe to the wall,"

ordered Peter.

"What is this, a sobriety test?" grumbled Danny. His head was killing him and he couldn't figure out why Peter hadn't offered to shut down the pain yet. He kicked off his shoes and started the appointed task. He was tired, and halfway to the wall he stumbled. In an instant, Peter and Jennifer were on either side, steadying him.

"Okay, there's no left/right disparities, no one-sided weakness, but you're still having coordination issues,"

said Peter.

"I'm fucking exhausted. I'm jetlagged, didn't get enough sleep last night, and had a really shitty day,"

Danny snapped. "And my head is just pounding. Damn it, Peter, will you please either get rid of the pain or give me some Excedrin!"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just worried because I can't find an identifiable cause for the problem." Peter cupped his hands around Danny's neck and forehead and the pain blissfully drained away.

"He does have a point," said Jen. "I'm pretty close to wiped out, too. Can we all manage to fit into somebody's bed?"

"God, I knew when I crammed that queen sized bed in my quarters, it'd pay off some day," Danny said blearily, giving them a small grin.

"And here you told me it was because a regular bed's not really long enough for you," Peter teased.

"That, too."

***

Peter left messages that he would be unavailable until at least noon. It was already close to two a.m. Danny was snuggled between Peter and Jennifer in the queen sized bed in his quarters. Danny had fallen asleep almost as soon as he was horizontal. Peter lay with his hand on Danny's chest, feeling his lover's heartbeat. He let his energy flow into Danny's body in a slow trickle. This wasn't conventional damage; he didn't think it was something he could fix by force. He placed a kiss on one of the shiny pink scars left on Danny's arm from the bullet wound. As freaked as that had made Peter feel at the time, that was a definable and quantifiable type of damage. This problem was so much harder. Peter eventually gave up torturing his brain for answers it didn't have, and slept.

***

Danny felt surprisingly better when he woke. The fact that his morning wood was pressed against Peter's ass was just an added bonus. He could feel the soft whisper of Jennifer's breathing on the back of his neck.

He lay there for a number of minutes, trying to decide if he wanted to crawl his way out of the warm body burrito he was snuggled in or if he wanted to wrap an arm around one of his lovers and hope for a little morning action.

He wiggled a little closer to Peter, wrapping an arm around his lover's body and rocking against the firm curve of Peter's butt. This drew a low sleepy sound from Peter. Danny skimmed his hand down the front of Peter's body and found a half hard cock beginning to tent the front of Peter's briefs. Mmm,
things
were perking up. There was a bit more squirming and two pairs of underwear got kicked to the bottom of the bed.

Danny slid one arm under Peter's neck and used the other to map the thinly muscled limbs of his partner. He felt the sharp analytical scan of Peter's mind through his.

"You feel better," whispered Peter. It was a statement, not a question.

"Uh-huh," Danny muttered. He was more interested in the way Peter's body felt against his own than trying to unravel the reasons behind yesterday's semi-disaster right then. His fingers stroked Peter's now deliciously hard prick for a little while as he nibbled and kissed Peter's neck and shoulder. Eventually he changed tactics and ran his fingers down the crack of Peter's behind to work at the tight, crinkled opening there. It was already half slicked by Danny's own pre-come. "You interested?" he asked softly.

"Oh, yeah."

There was always lube and condoms handy on the night stand these days.

***

The heavy scent of male arousal and the soft rocking motion of the mattress woke Jennifer. For a few moments she thought it was the remnants of a dream that fluttered at her consciousness, then she gradually realized Peter and Danny were having sex less than two feet from her. It was slow and easy and accompanied by wandering hands and warm emotions.

For a sleep clouded minute she felt vaguely annoyed that they were so wrapped up in each other that she had become irrelevant, then something approaching logic finally kicked in. She had been asleep, and they were being really rather quiet about their actions.

Even though the lower halves of the men's bodies were covered by blankets, seeing Danny spooned so tight to Peter along with the grope and caress of their hands stirred Jen's own desire. God, they were beautiful.

Muscled limbs and torsos, Danny's tousled blond hair, and Peter's sandy brown: it was pornographic art.

Jennifer could feel her own arousal growing low in her belly. Her hands couldn't resist touching Danny's back.

"I wondered if you were going to join in at some point," Danny said. Jennifer let out a tiny squeak of surprise as two different male hands grabbed at her and hauled her up over top of joined bodies to land in front of Peter.

Peter placed a long lush kiss on her mouth and Danny's hand cupped her breast.

"You need to ditch the clothes," Peter said.

Jennifer hesitated only a moment, trying to figure out the easiest way to get out of her T-shirt and undies. It proved easiest to slide out of bed for a moment. As she started to slip back in, Peter wound an arm around her hips and pushed her down so that his face was nearly in line with her thighs. Oh, that had possibilities. Agile fingers, lips and a sinfully creative tongue soon had her bucking against the delicate torture. She felt Peter's explosive exhale as he came all over her breasts. It only took a few minutes for him to restart his assault on her.

The build of tension in her body cut loose with a hard clenching set of waves that triggered Danny's climax.

Jennifer rode the combined wave of ecstasy until she flopped limply against Peter.

Danny's hand rubbed across her body, petting her, and she could feel his mind doing something similar to hers.

An image of her hands gripping his on the plane passed between them and she was aware how amazingly grateful he was she had been there to help him.

Peter must have picked up on the thought. His hand pressed down on top of Danny's, sandwiching it against Jennifer's hip. "This is a problem that has to get solved,"

said Peter softly. "It's too dangerous to just ignore."

Danny propped his chin on Peter's shoulder. "Yeah, I know," he admitted. He ran a fingertip along Jen's lips.

"I'm not really sure how well I would have coped if you hadn't been there."

***

Hoping a fresh perspective would help with Danny's problem. Jennifer, Danny and Peter met with Stephen Benford in a conference room over lunch. They had all collected food from the cafeteria and brought it with them.

Jennifer wasn't entirely sure what function she served in this meeting, except for the fact that she had been with Danny during the latest "episode."

Stephen Benford sat across the table from Peter. The head psychologist was a medium height man in his late forties, with dark hair. She thought he strove to look professionally invisible. There was nothing in his clothing, look or demeanor to make him stand out in a crowd. This ignored the fact that if he was actually focused on you, it made you feel like you were under a microscope and being dissected all in one go. Jennifer had been on the receiving end of that focus during the first week of her training at Division P.

"What can we say about common threads for all three events?" asked Stephen.

"Large crowds, or closely clustered people in the case of the plane, and shared or similar emotions from all those involved," replied Peter.

"Incident one revolved around stress and anger because of canceled flights at that airport. Incident two was at the concert and people were high, drunk, and generally feeling enthusiastic. Incident three involved fear, because of the turbulence. Yes?" summarized Stephen.

"Yeah," acknowledged Danny.

"Things that seem to influence this problem are significant numbers of people, proximity, and intensity of the actual emotion. All three times you experienced blank spots in your memory?"

"At least a couple of minutes, but I didn't apparently black out or in point of fact lose consciousness. Peter told me I was climbing a fence at the concert, Jennifer said I was just staring and unresponsive on the plane.

Obviously I still had muscle control of some kind."

Stephen turned to Jennifer. "I'm assuming you touched him as well as spoke to him when you tried to break through to him."

"Yes," she said. "If the seats on the plane had been more forgiving I'd've tried to put my arms around him."

"I debated the merits of hooking him up to the EEG

last night, to see if I could get a hard copy on any lingering brainwave deviations," said Peter.

"I don't know if you would have seen anything or not," replied Stephen. "Here's my guess. There's either a shielding problem or an empathic processing problem, which may loosely translate to: you've gotten more sensitive over time."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that idea if this is the result," Danny said.

Jennifer read frustration in his body language.

"We all know practice and training is incredibly helpful. You spent a lot of years making very minimal and untrained use of your empathy," said Peter. "These days you use it nearly every day."

"We don't really know, however, if that's the root of the problem. It still could be a shielding issue, or something we haven't thought of yet," Stephen commented.

Peter leaned back in his chair. "The bottom line seems to be that you are acutely aware of crowds and especially crowds where there are likely to be shared emotions."

"Great. You all know how much flying and traveling I do. Exactly how paranoid am I supposed to be about it happening again?" Danny asked.

"Here's another idea we need to consider. I think we might want to attempt to provoke an episode, under somewhat controlled circumstances," suggested Stephen.

Peter gave Benford a dubious look. "We're not entirely sure how dangerous this is."

"Don't flip out. He has a point. It would be helpful to know more precisely what triggers this crap," replied Danny.

"Then how exactly do we
provoke
this problem?"

asked Peter.

"The concert scenario seems like the easiest to duplicate, and potentially the least risky in that the emotions are usually good ones," Stephen offered.