Aftercare: General's Daughter, Book 4 (24 page)

“Thank you for the praise. I will certainly keep that in
mind.”
 

Scott laughed, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. “I
knew I liked you for some reason. Not too many understand our, uh, peculiar
needs. You, go tell your father, but leave out the details. He won’t go for it.
Scoot,” Scott ordered his niece. When she left, he sat across from Rich. “I don’t
meet a lot like you. How’s your arsenal?”

“Full stash, but in storage right now. I didn’t feel it was
appropriate to arm the general’s BOQ with implements,” Rich commented.

“Yeah, and the walls have ears. How is she with this?”

“She’s a natural. She doesn’t know it yet, though. I sensed
it from the beginning,” Rich stated.

“So was her mom. Joe’s got his side too, trust me. Not as
hard as we are, but it’s there. Like Mike. He’s just funny about overdoing
things.”

“I can’t blame him, she’s his kid. But she is a brat. And a
little weasel.”

“She’s been on good behavior for you, too. Just wait,” Scott
warned.

Sam walked outside to the front yard where Dr. Quimby was
finishing putting away the camping gear. She hugged him from behind. “Daddy? Can
you take a minute? I need to talk with you.”

“My turn now, huh? What’s up, sweetheart?” He took her hand
and walked away from the garage into the wooded yard. Sam slowly explained what
happened and that Scott had released her from further discipline.

“Hmm, did you think we hadn’t already guessed that had
occurred when the boys took off so abruptly? Or that I didn’t see the clues
when we returned to camp? Feet sore, flushed, muscle rubs from Jen… I’m an
Intel officer. You two keep forgetting that I can see through this stuff. I’m
also guessing that Scott told you not to share with me the details of your
discipline. I’m assuming I would disapprove.”

“Yes, sir,” the girl said quietly.

Her father hugged her gently. “Do you disapprove?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you feel there is any abuse involved? Be honest.”

“No sir. I deserved it. Rich is like Uncle Scott. I know my
place with him.”

“As long as you are comfortable with it. Your mother and I
had this discussion too. She needed Scott’s firmness and my fairness.”

“Scott’s fair,” Sam defended her uncle.

“He is, but he also has little room for leniency. I tend to
be too gentle.”

“Sorry, Daddy, but I would never call your spankings gentle. They
hurt terribly.” Sam shuddered. “They’ve been up there with Scott’s many times.”

“I didn’t say I was always lenient. But I do tend to let you
have the benefit of the doubt a little easier than Scott does. I also have a
longer fuse in most things.”

“True. I’m sorry I disobeyed you guys.”

“Did Scott add to the punishment?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well, then you’re free. Will Jen come to us with a
confession as well?”

“I doubt it. Mike said she didn’t need to. And after the last
time, she’s terrified. Besides, it was my fault.”

“I see. You know it took a lot of courage to go tell Scott
that you disobeyed him.”

“Don’t think I wasn’t having a heart attack when I did. Rich
insisted he come with me, too.” She leaned against her father’s arm.

He patted her thigh. “I’m glad he didn’t run you down again. Did
Rich tell you that you two were cooking dinner?”

“Yes, sir. And what does Scott do since he got out of putting
things away?”

“He’s Scott. He watches TV. Honey, some battles aren’t worth
fighting.”

***

Sam and Rich giggled while making dinner that night, enjoying
the first domestic adventure they had undertaken together. Rich was very
efficient in the kitchen and cleaned everything that Sam messed up. She liked
that arrangement.

“If we end up ever living together, at least we’ll have a
clean house,” Sam informed him happily.

“Oh, you’ll learn how to clean. There are strict consequences
to not doing chores, little girl,” Rich whispered, chewing on her earlobe and
sending her laughing hysterically to the floor.

“That tickles! Stop it!” she shrieked.

Dr. Quimby walked in. “I thought you were making chicken cacciatore,
not Sam Catchachewie.” He laughed, watching Rich sink his teeth into her neck.

“Get him off me!” she yelled.

Dr. Quimby shook his head, leaving the room. He beckoned to
his son. “Go save your sister. Jen, darling, let’s have a tiny chat, okay?”

“Am I in trouble?” she asked fearfully.

 
Dr. Quimby
laughed. “You sound like Samantha. Are you feeling guilty about something?”

“Not really, I mean, well, I know she already told you guys
what we did, but it was taken care of and Mike and Rich said we didn’t have to ‘fess
up or anything,” she blurted out quickly, not looking at him.

“We always would like to know what’s going on. I know you’re
afraid of a repeat of what happened with you and Scott, but this is different. We
aren’t total beasts. At least, I’m not. I always want to know if one of the
boys has a need to discipline you. It lets me know what’s going on and that you
are being watched out for.”

“Oh, I was watched out for, all right. I’m not pissing Mike
off again anytime soon.” Jen shuddered.

“You could always deal with Rich,” Dr. Quimby teased.

Jen’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be joking; Rich makes
Scott look nice when he’s pissed. No thanks.”

“Poor baby. Are you going to tell Scott about your little adventure?”

“Do I have to?”

“No, but you should.”

“Will he punish me again?” Jen gulped.

Dr. Quimby shrugged. “I can’t honestly answer that. He didn’t
with Sam, but then, I suspect she’s got some evidence to indicate there was no
need.”

“I’ll say. Oh, all right. Wish me luck,” Jen groaned.

Dr. Quimby hugged her. “Just remember, you wanted to be part
of this family. Be careful what you wish for.”

“Humprf.”

“Where’s Jen?” Michael asked, returning with Sam over his
shoulder and Rich trailing behind. He dumped his sister on the couch, looking
around.

“On the deck talking with Scott about her adventure.”

Michael glanced outside, seeing Jen standing, hands folded in
front of her, being scolded like a little child. He chuckled. “Did I look the
same way when Uncle Scott reprimanded me when I was little?”

“You STILL look that way when he scolds. Uh oh,” Dr. Quimby
said, seeing Scott point to the railing.

“He’s not mad, he’s just screwing with her. Look at his jaw,”
Sam said, seeing Scott push Jen to lean over the rail. He suddenly grabbed her
by the waist and was hanging her over it, like he was going to drop her into
the water. She was screaming by then and laughing. The two walked in shortly
afterwards, Jen slapping Scott on the arm before hiding behind Michael.

“He’s picking on me. Protect me.”

“Hell no, I’m not stupid,” Michael teased, ducking away from
her.

Sam stood up and positioned herself in front of her friend,
hands on her hips, looking up well over a foot above her into her uncle’s face.
“Unlike my big, burly brother, I’m no chicken shit. I’ll protect you, Jen.”

“Oh, look the big bad WM is going to be a roadblock.” Scott
snickered, taking an identical pose, only looking way down at his niece.

“Woman Marine or not, I can be a very effective roadblock, as
you know,” Sam insisted defiantly.

Scott pretended to look afraid, holding his eyes wide and placing
his hands on his cheeks. “I’m scared,” he teased, pretending to shake.

Michael whispered to Rich, “Watch her eyes. She’s going to
make a move.”

“You look like that painting, ‘The Scream’. And you should be
very much afraid of me,” Sam announced, suddenly dropping to the ground and
sweeping her leg under the back of his knees, making him fall clumsily like a
sack of potatoes.

Scott was completely taken off guard and had the wind knocked
out of him. “You little… get her!”

“This is your fight, Scott,” Dr. Quimby said, moving
furniture with the boys.

Scott looked around, she was nowhere in sight. “Where is she?
OW!” he yelled as she jumped him silently from behind, catching his neck in a
thigh hold and flipping him to the side. He growled, slipping out and went to
grab her. She was gone again.

“She’s been practicing. I’m impressed,” Dr. Quimby said, arms
folded as he sat on the back of the couch with the other three. Scott’s face
reddened as he continued to grab air and get knocked down.

“So am I. I don’t think even I would see those moves,” Rich
said, watching them carefully. He frowned, noticing Scott kept reaching for
where she wasn’t. The brat. She was cheating. Again. He elbowed Michael, who
nodded.

“She’s swirling. The little stinker. Dad, watch them
carefully. Look at what your little angel is doing.”

“I’m seeing it. It’s almost like Scott is getting illusions
of where she is. Ohhh, I get it. Should I call it a match?”

“Nah, let her beat him up a little more. All’s fair when it
comes to wrestling with Scott. Especially if it makes him lose.” Michael
grinned.

Dr. Quimby looked doubtful. “How quickly you forget that we
still need to live with him. Are you sure you want that?”

“Chicken-shit,” Michael and Rich said together.

“Damn right. Self-preservation has its rewards, gentlemen.”

Scott finally lay on the floor, out of breath, when his niece
pounced on his stomach, and held his arms down over his head. She kissed his
cheek.

“I won,” she said simply.

He growled. “You cheated.”

“I learned about cheating from the best. Did I hurt you?”

“Just my ego. How did you do that?”

“I cast images to confuse you. It’s a cetacean decoy method
from possible predators.”

“Killer whales have no predators,” Scott said, sitting up and
grabbing the base of his spine with a groan.

“No, but dolphins do. Killer whales. Is your back okay?”

“You got me good. I landed badly. My fault. You need to
practice more,” Scott grumbled standing slowly.

She hugged him. “I know. I need to work in multiples so I
have more control if I’m ever outnumbered again. Lay back down, I’ll rub your
back.”

He hugged back, kissing her lovingly on the top on her head
and complied. “That’s still bothering you, huh?” he asked softly, humming under
her skilled fingers.

“I don’t think it will ever go away. So, what did you think,
commanders?” she asked her father and Michael. They both held up ten fingers. She
looked at Rich. “Lieutenant Lewis? Any comments?”

“I want to work with you on some other moves. I saw some
openings that, had you lost your concentration, you would have fallen,” Rich
said seriously.

She nodded. “Sure! I am open to anything that helps me kick
your butts.” She then turned to Jen. “I’m your hero now, huh?”

“Better than my chicken-shit boyfriend,” Jen complained,
scowling in Michael’s direction.

“Like Dad said, self-preservation.”

“Well, you can self-preservate yourself for a while, mister. You
aren’t going to get any help from me,” Jen huffed. The other men laughed as
Michael pouted.

“Looks like you’re not getting laid for a while, my boy. Too
bad, so sad,” Scott teased.

“At least I don’t have to pay someone to do me,” Michael
grumbled back. That started another match, one that left Scott in a better
mood. He had Michael face down on the ground, knee in the back of his thigh and
knuckle in his kidney.

“I give!” Michael yelled, wincing. He had forgotten his uncle’s
cheating techniques.

“Why did he quit?” Jen asked.

“Heavy duty pressure points. Not a fair fight, but realistic.
I’ll teach you some of those too,” Rich answered her.

Sam joined them, climbing to sit on the back of the couch. “Scott’s
terrible if he pins you. He’s real good with those trigger points. They leave
us feeling that area for days like a real deep bruise. In the right place it can
temporarily paralyze you. So this is what you were talking to me about, Jen? No
sex?”

“Use it as needed. It’s a powerful weapon,” Jen said, pretending
Rich wasn’t between them.

“Don’t you go teaching her any nasty little female games,
little sister. If I want it, I’m getting it,” Rich snarled.

“Not if I don’t want to give it to you,” Sam announced,
seeing the shocked look on his face. She grinned and high-fived her friend. “You’re
right, it is powerful.”

“Bitches,” Rich muttered.

“Daddy, Rich is swearing,” both girls announced at the same
time. They looked at each other and started laughing.

“That’s nice, ladies. No tattling,” Dr. Quimby reminded them,
helping his son off the floor.

“So not fair,” Jen whined. “If it were us swearing, we’d be
getting spanked.”

Dr. Quimby grinned. “I don’t think Rich would fit across my
knee. I could make him stand in the corner.”

“I don’t think so, doctor. You two, cut it out. I mean it,”
Rich ordered, pulling himself to his full height and staring down at them. They
both swallowed, nodding.

“That’s one way to shut them up,” Scott said, hand on Rich’s
shoulder. “No swearing, damn it. You need to work on being a better fucking
role model and not so much of an asshole.”

“Enough, Scott. Don’t antagonize,” Dr. Quimby ordered.

Scott met his eye, still in a mood. “Are you going to try to
stop me, teeny bopper?”

“I’m not 12 anymore. You don’t scare me. Much,” Dr. Quimby
said, eyes twinkling.

“Two on two. You pick your team. NO girls.”

“I’m not fighting you tonight, Scott. Your testosterone is
out of control.”

“Scared?”

“Not at all. Tired, yes. And we have work tomorrow.”

“Go on, Mike or Rich.”

“Fine.” The man took off his shirt, revealing large, solid
muscles. Jen held her breath; he was built like Michael. “Mike, you’re with me.”