Family Kind

[BenjaminBriggs]

Chapter 1
An Animated Meeting

A lot of rings, and so far, so good. Ben still wasn't so sure how he'd made it back to town in one piece after the entire world went balmy to the high side of pi.

The fire haired gal was a welcome sight to Ben's steel gray eyes, a weapon to fight what she was calling the animate was even more welcome. Returning to the surface from the Durem caverns where he worked and studied had found him facing madness, literally running for his life.

"Had to be stupid luck the old time-flight unit didn't hop up and start bashin' us over the head, eh, lad?" Ben noted, dry humor as he scruffed the scaly head of the young gwee dragon clinging to his wide shoulders.

Fear, apprehension, worry, it was all printed clearly over every face he passed once he made it back to town. A grim smile was all the old man could give.

Wasn't any news that he could tell anyone, good or bad. The time pilot and dimension hopper kept to the caves where he could do his work without disturbing folks, gathering up bringing in the exotic and rare ingredients needed to make the various potions so popular currently.

Which was a site better than bringing in scrap to sell at a Aekea. Less likely to trip off something he shouldn't, or worse, find that something he'd sold had been built up into something it shouldn't have been.

"Heh. Last time I had rings on all my fingers both hands, I was fightin' a bare knuckle boxer who cheated," Ben noted ironically with a glance to Natasha, waggling the fingers on his left hand. She chortled approvingly, using her knee and plenty of leverage to properly apply up a rather personal piercing on a yowling young man.

"Figured the animated got ya. Or you saw it going on and bailed off for that Bahamas place you're always blabbing about," she called between the screeches.

"Naw, they don't got a place for lil' Scorch, here. They'd call him an iguana and try to eat him," Ben chuckled, once more rubbing the dragon's head.

Maybe Scorch wasn't the most original name ever for a small fire breathing dragon, but it was better than just calling him "Gwee" like most others did. Anyhow, Scorch answered to his name.

"I still think you ought to be sedating these kids that insist on the oddball piercin's," Ben pointed out humorously, stacking jars and small bags onto the counter in back.

"And take all the fun out of it? You're insane," Natasha chortled, finally finishing up about as her customer passed out cold.

"Gal after my own heart," Ben philosophized, plucking Scorch from his shoulders and setting the dragonette to the floor, "Go catch mice 'er somethin', boy, make y'self useful."

Scorch gave a distinct 'feh', switching his tail. He started to give puppy dragon eyes to Natasha, but remembered that she not only didn't buy it, but thought he'd look cute with some frill-piercings. Fehing once more, the dragon slithered through the shop curiously. Designs on holing him aside, Natasha did often let him keep whatever strayed body jewelry he found rolled off under counters and such.

There was a mouse. A fat, juicy, delicious looking mouse. Scorch hunkered up like a cat, tail switching side to side, his eyes narrowed as he got a bead on the rodent. Instants later, the rodent darted away, and Scorch was hot on its heels.

The mouse was smart, it headed right back outside the way it'd come in, caroming through the stock and work room and for the back alley. Scorch gathered himself up and sprang, propelled by his tiny wings, and crashed into the trash cans.

Woefully splattered in a heap, Scorch creeled, shaking garbage from himself and waiting for the merry-go-round of mice to stop spinning around his head.

Something answered the dragon's creel, faint and tiny, too faint for human ears. Scorch tipped his brow, curious. It didn't sound like a mouse. He creeled again, cocking his head. He followed the response curiously, pattering back into the store room.

It was one of the pretty bottles Scorch got yelled at if he touched. But it was broken on the floor, probably pushed off the back of the work bench. Scorch snuffled at the bottle gingerly, and nattered when he heard the creeling again.

It was a little live-thing, Scorch decided, delicately picking the glass away. Very very carefully, Scorch remembered how much it'd hurt when he'd gotten a piece of glass in his paw.

Well, that answered everything. Ben would fix it. Ben was the Dad. Dad always fixed everything. From the moment Dad picked Scorch up out of the dumpster where the dragon had been living, Dad had made everything better.

Scorch chittered all this to the little blob of life while he picked the glass out, his claws and eyes as fine as any master jewelers. Nodding once he'd removed all of the glass, Scorch backed out from under the counter. He sat flat on his bottom, craned his head skywards, and keened. That always brought Dad running.

Natasha and Ben collided as they raced to the back room, expecting to see Scorch torn to pieces by some monster mouse and its hellspawn minions, judging by the dragon's howling. Natasha sputtered, seeing only the dragon, unhurt.

"Those little dudes are more trouble," she announced, amused, "Nothing is wrong, Scorch, why are you squalling?"

"He usually doesn't squall without a reason," Ben noted, dropping to a hunters crouch before the dragon.

"Usually. Then there's that ten percent of just being a devil," Natasha pointed out sagely.

"He probably just realized all what happened getting here, bunch of bloody saws chasin'..." Ben decided, smiling as Scorch scrambled over his hands and knee, nattering, "It ...what is it, Scorch...?"

"Devin fall in the well?" Natasha giggled.

"If he did, first, we get pictures," Ben grinned, his grayed brows drawn together, "Well, what's this?"

"What's what?" she echoed, kneeling to look under the counter. Scorch slithered from Ben's grasp to gently nose and cheep at the little silvery pile of glop.

"I think it's alive," Ben decided, reaching out to the puddle. As his hand neared, the puddle oozed itself up, cringing. Ben whispered and crooned gently, finally able to scoop it right into his cupped palm.

"I'd say you're right," Natasha agreed, surprised, "Oh, no, I know what it is. It's one of the imp potions, but it really wasn't right. Then it seemed like it was alive in there, so I put it aside. It must have gotten knocked over."

"Poor thing," he tisked softly, slinging Scorch up to his shoulder and standing, "Looks hurt, Scorch must have picked the glass out of it, but no telling how much is in it still."

"It'll work out, as long as it survives," she assured him, frowning at the pile of goo. She brightened up abruptly. "Wait, I know. We've got fake skin, for people having large tattoos done. It'll cover the goo without suffocating it."

"Well, let's give it a try. Seems hurt, it's all balled up," Ben mulled, trying to soothe the little life while not really being certain how to do so.

"Will do, Cap'n," Natasha beamed, removing a small amount of a clear, flexible film from a covered tray. It seemed to be nothing more than water somehow formed into a sheet, and that was almost literally what it was.

The goo flinched and whined at the first touch of the second skin, but a moment later, as if it did realize it was helping, it all but rolled up into the film. Ben chuckled, soft and deep.

"Maybe some warm milk, see if it'll ...absorb, I guess. I don't see anything that could be a mouth."

"If it's potions becoming animated next, and you're here helping them along, I am so throwing you to the wolves," Natasha chortled, leading Ben to a small kitchenette.

"Aw, I don't think so. These potions are to make imps, right? So it's pretty much an imp formula, just add a body. Like if you poured it out, it'd just be it's own imp," Ben countered humorously. It was cute, in a bizarre way, the blob of goo.

"If you say so," Natasha grinned, "I'll ask Devin, he'll know more."

The first drop of warm milk just splattered onto the blob. But by the second, it formed a mouth of itself and all but quivered in glee to be fed. Ben couldn't quite tell where the milk was going, perhaps absorbed into itself, but it was clearly hungry.

"Wolves averted, I've never heard tell of any animated eating," Natasha decided, glancing at Ben, "Well, it's yours now. You'll have plenty of time looking after it unless you're bull fool enough to keep going back to the mines."

Ben hesitated. He was bull fool enough for that, but he had Scorch - and now this little thing - to think of. Natasha eyed him, sardonic as her grin, hands on her thin hips.

"You are out of your mind. You are not risking your little guys. You may have those rings, but you're only one man, Benjamin Briggs. Scorch is just a baby, and that thing, well, I guess it's a baby too."

"I got to work or I can't take care of them," Ben protested, but it was feeble, and he knew it. Natasha laughed once, scornful.

"Ha! Who are you kidding, you pirate? You just brought in enough rare ingredients to keep you in clover for five years, and that's just this last run. Time you settled down as the single father you are, go buy a house with a yard inside the city gates and if you're bored, teach math."

"It's a dragon and a ... a... ...imp potion," Ben retorted, wide eyed. Natasha poked him in the chest.

"It's your dragon and your ... gimp. Your gimpi. Go. Scorch and the gimpi need a stable home. Maybe you'll actually find a wife once you're not popping off to all ends of the universe," Natasha informed him smartly.

"Oh fine," he grumbled, amused. He carefully slid the puddle of gimp into his coat pocket, where, with an audible pop of belch, it settled into a comfortable heap.

"Great. Now I'll know where you are to pester when I need to know about other cool potions," Natasha beamed, going up on her toes to smooch Ben's cheek.

"And you call me a pirate," Ben sighed, amused, as he turned for the door.  

[BenjaminBriggs]

Chapter 2
Star Not-So-Bright

It was a cute little cottage that should have belonged to some sweet old dame who liked to bake gingerbread, garden, and had beautiful daughters. Except it now belonged to a scarred, time worn traveler and his two odd wards.

The cottage had a deep cellar cut into bedrock, good enough for Ben to keep up with some of his work, he figured. There was a fenced yard and garden, and enough nooks and crannies inside to keep Scorch occupied for years.

It'd been so long since Ben had a land bound house, he nearly forgot about furnishings. Scorch capered around the living room gleefully, watching Ben repositioning his time-flight rig in the middle of the space. The glop of gimpi seemed to watch as well, oozed to the rim of the low, wide, wooden bowl it'd been placed within.

The main propulsion unit began to chug quietly as it was powered, obediently unfolding and folding parts of itself in and out, until it blossomed like a bronze lotus. The controls raised up on a slender pylon, and the entire construct clacked into place, an electric hum sounding just under the steady steam hiss.

As Ben set the controls, there was a brief metallic screech. Scorch squalled along with it happily, and even the gimpi squeaked. Ben made a face. Well, at least it didn't scare them. He'd already had to lunge to catch the gimpi once when it'd been spooked by a loud noise, and it was a slippery little devil.

Twin cords of electric green energy cut upwards, precise and brilliant, from the opened time-flight. The pair met at a center point, forming a doorway about six foot high and four wide. Within that doorway, the energy created a misty lacework.

"Alright boys, time for Dad to get to work. Go sit with y' brother on the hearth, Scorch, and don't get underfoot," Ben noted, amused. Dad, brother, hell, he must be crazy.

Why not, though? Scorch surely needed a home and family, and well, whatever the gimpi was, Ben couldn't turn away from a little critter that was lost, hungry, or hurt. Neither had anyone else.

Scorch hooted and creeled, excited, as he watched Ben step back out of the phantom doorway, carrying a chair. For all the world, it was as if Ben had created an inter dimensional doorway between the living room and some distant storage space.

Which was, in fact, what Ben had done. It was a lot easier than hiring a moving van.

Plain, solid, comfortable furnishings, as simple as the man that owned them seemed to be. Scorch gathered up the gimpy in his forepaws and promptly infested the overstuffed sofa the moment Ben had it settled to the floor.

Pausing, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, Ben had to laugh. Scorch was as smug as you like, curled up with the blob of gimpi.

"Well, then I guess you boys are home, hm?" he chuckled warmly. Home. Ben thought that over as he worked. Home. It felt good. It felt good to truly have one again. Better than grabbing motel rooms, sleeping in a cot wherever he found himself working, or even out in the open.

A home, and two little reasons to keep it.

Scorch wolfed, or rather, dragoned down his supper of beef stew, seated on the edge of the table, while Ben carefully fed the gimpi warm milk and beef broth. The glob seemed bigger than it had a week ago, and though it had distinctly moody moments, it was more than willing to respond to gentle treatment.

It wasn't so sure about all this. It was different, and it knew that very well. But the man was kind, the dragon was loving. Both helped it when it hurt, fed it when it was hungry, held it when it was scared. But what if...?

What if they got tired of it? What if they didn't want it anymore? Would there be more broken glass and pain and hunger and fear? What if they got bored? How could it keep them from forgetting it or getting mad at it or...? Or anything?

Ben paused, blinking several times, as he ate his own supper. Scorch warbled, wide eyed. The gimpy fluctuated in its bowl, reeling out points wildly, and with an odd flapping sound - formed into a small star shaped mylar balloon.

Which promptly went flat as the air escaped a cut in one face.

Before Ben or Scorch could move, the living balloon flailed helplessly, trying to suck in air once more, only to be flattened once more. It whined hopelessly. Its one cute trick, it couldn't do. The glass cuts hadn't healed. Maybe they never would.

People threw popped balloons away.

Despair was utter night to the little life as it felt Ben lift it into his hand. Off to the trash bin. It wasn't even shiny enough to attract Scorch's attention. It was doomed to pain, darkness, loneliness and suffering...

And, there was more of that strange water-skin on it. The careful p***k-p***k-p***k of a fine needle and the odd draw of silk thread. Another patch of water-skin.

"There you are, lad, now give it a go," Ben was saying. And smiling? Smiling? There was Scorch, bright eyed and happy?

Give it a go...? The gimpi sucked in air, rarified it, and... It floated. It was patched, it held air, it could be a star balloon.

Ben chuckled, taking the tail end of string and walking the balloon back to the living room, followed by Scorch, chortling and cheeping.

"Y' make a fine little balloon, fellah, but you just remember, we like you just as much as blob as we do this. We like you just fine however you are as long as y' happy," Ben informed the balloon-gimpi humorously, finally giving the end of the string to Scorch.

"You be careful, and don't get over tired," Ben added as he returned to work on the house.

The star balloon settled on Scorch's head after a long romp through the jumbled furniture. Scorch sprawled on the sofa, and sprawling sounded nice after being a balloon.

That was a lot to think about. They were just fine if it was a blob or a pretty balloon, and even if it wasn't such a pretty balloon, they fixed it so it was at least a balloon.  

[BenjaminBriggs]

Chapter 3
Bacon!

"Boy, y' gettin' big," Ben noted as he fed the gimpi. In its blob state, it filled up the bowl that was its resting place. Ben fed it thin oatmeal with cream and sugar, and the blob was really thinking about the delicious smelling bacon on Ben's plate.

"Don't you get any ideas, you little booger, you don't even have a proper mouth," Ben chuckled as the blob stretched itself towards the bacon. The gimpi grumped as Ben pushed it back into its bowl. The bacon smelled heavenly.

Heavenly. It was a little of that. And a little of Hell. Mostly, in between. Decidedly, in between. It was all gray. So just a little hell, a little heaven.

But how to get that bacon? Would it taste as good as it smelled? The gimpi plotted. Scorch snuck bits from Ben's plate, and Ben only laughed and brought more, saying something about growing boys.

There just had to be a way to get that bacon. Scorch paddy pawed at the gimpi after Ben sent them to play after breakfast, but the gimpi whuffled. Shrugging a bit, Scorch pattered off to the garden. The gimpi was a moody little thing, Scorch understood that. It'd taken him a while to really believe that Dad wasn't going to send him off, too.

The gimpi was even grumpy when Ben picked it up to take it to its little bed of a heating pad and flannel blanket in an old cedar chest missing its lid. Ben chuckled and cuddled the blob as best he could to his chest.

"Are you still fretting over that bacon? Well, you are getting bigger, maybe I can figure a way to mush it up for you, alright? You don't have a proper mouth or even internal organs, little bit, I don't want you getting hurt," Ben murmured, his voice low and rumbling soothingly.

Mouth, internal, organs. Little bit! Little bit. That was a name. Little Bit. The gimpi's thoughts went askew, and still were bacon-scented, as it listened to the steady thump of Ben's heart and the rush and flow of his breathing.

Internal organs and a mouth. Oh, and eyes! Arms? Legs? Shouldn't be greedy. It was getting bigger, and sometimes, even the elastic outer surface of its blobbiness felt tight.

Ben shook his head humorously as he gently eased the gimpi to its bed. Better than when Scorch first smelled bacon, the little dragon had just about chewed Ben's fingers off for it.

One tiny red eye and one scrunched up eye regarded Ben soulfully as the man leaned into the box the next morning. A round little body and nubby arms, tiny wings, one black and one white.

And, it was oozing red blood from its head area. The cut on the balloon. Ben jerked himself, wide eyed, to scoop the gimpi up and dash for the bathroom and bandages. The gimpi whined unhappily. Growing was painful, even if there might be bacon.

Ben bundled the gimpi up and, for lack of anything better to do, ran quickly into town for the emergency room. The gimpi sat, quite thoughtful, in Ben's lap among the kids with pennies stuck up their noses, with cuts and bruises.

Those kids were there with their moms or dads. The parents all looked somewhere between resigned and worried. A few people eyed Ben's 'kid' oddly, but most clucked 'poor little thing'.

After all, a sort of imp couldn't be too unusual around there.

The doctor was a smiling lady of ample contours and kind nature. She looked over the gimpi as if she saw them every day.

"Well, there's been a few turned up, you know. They get too big in the bottles and crack, and here we are. This is all just going to have to heal, and that's that," she explained, spreading a thick, silvery ointment over the cuts and its eye.

"Will it get bigger?" Ben wondered, frowning as he watched her work.

"I don't know, they're new. I've worked on the little imp fellows and they just stay little puff balls, unless they turn into people."

Turn into people?

"Is it a girl or boy, do you know? I've just been callin' it him," Ben asked after a few moments, amused. The doctor shrugged widely, chuckling.

"I couldn't tell you. It sort of looks like a boy, don't you, lamb?" she grinned, petting the gimpi's head.

For being so good, the doctor gave it a little sucker. Ben unwrapped it and helped it pop the candy into its mouth. It had a mouth now, a real mouth. The lemon flavored sucker was sweet and a little sour and amazingly good.

Ben watched helplessly as the sucker was devoured, stick and all, in just a few moments.

"Y' not really supposed to eat the stick, kiddo, but I suppose it won't hurt ya any. More fiber," he chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. The gimpi creaked sadly, the candy was already gone, and it was hungry.

Shrugging, Ben walked into a small diner. The waitress gamely brought a high chair for the odd little creature, and gave it a few packets of crackers to keep it busy.

This was all very strange. There were other people, with their kids and many with none. A toddler was yelling and throwing things, and everyone seemed very annoyed by that.

"Cookie said give him a cup of chocolate milk since he's being so good, not like that demon child," the waitress confided, leaning to Ben as she humorously placed a cup on the high chair tray for the gimpi. Ben glanced back at the screaming brat, shaking his head with a chuckle.

"Some parents are just scared to be firm with the kids," he shrugged.

Scorch had been known to pitch a temper tantrum or two, after all. They just tended to be short temper tantrums, since Ben was pretty quick with a swat to the backside. He was too old for any enlightened methods of child raising, and reckoned that his parents had done well enough by him with the occasional whack across the a**.

The gimpi thought this over quite intently. Demon child. But the toddler looked like a human child. You got chocolate milk for being good. It smelled different than milk. Parents should be firm with kids.

It was so caught up in these thoughts, it almost didn't notice the cup lifted to give it a taste of... Chocolate. Chocolate Milk! Chocolate milk was the most incredible thing ever!

Ben managed to keep the cup from going down the hatch after the milk, amused as he put a small plate before the gimpi. Creeling a bit in hopes of getting more chocolate milk, the gimpi startled to realize it smelled bacon again.

Bacon! A plate of bacon, scrumbled up fried egg, bits of toast with gooey purple on them. Ben stifled laughter, leaning back as the stubby little creature all but dove face first into the plate.

The growing part hadn't been so comfortable, it was sore and tired, but the eating real food part made up for it. Really seeing was nice, too, even if it was only from one eye.

The doctor said it would heal. Ben believed the doctor, so the gimpi did as well.

Ben plucked the sleeping creature from the high chair, snickering when it let out a belch any sailor would be proud of as Ben settled it to his shoulder. Time to head to the tattoo shop, pick up Scorch, and get on home.  

[BenjaminBriggs]

Chapter 4
Unwelcome Wagon

A ruckus was in progress when Ben came upstairs from the cellar to check on his 'kids'. He paused at the door, blinking several times. Either Scorch or the gimpi had figured out his old record player.

Wound up and with the sound cone aimed up at the ceiling, it played Caruso too fast, making the great tenor sound rather like a cartoon character. Scorch and the gimpi sang along at the tops of their lungs, squalling gleefully over some old Italian opera.

Well, he'd told them to stay out of trouble, and technically, they were out of trouble. Just rather loud. Shaking his head in amusement, Ben figured it was about time for lunch.

There was even louder banging on the front door, about mid-booty shake to 'Figaro'. Ben stifled a laugh at the oblivious youngsters, wiping his hands as he went to open the door.

One of the neighbors stood on the porch, a woman in her thirties. Expensively and tastefully dressed, perfectly turned out and beautiful, Ben wondered what a gal like that was doing in the quiet old neighborhood in town. Her sort preferred modern and manicured.

Ben hadn't so much as gotten a greeting out when the women gave a hard, brittle smile, trying to look past him into the house.

"Mrs. Manns-Scott, pleased to meet you, terribly sorry it had to be like this, but really, your -...things, are making a horrible racket. They are disrupting my daughter's gymnastic practice," she announced sharply.

Ben hesitated, his head tilting before he glanced back at his 'things', both of whom still rollicked merrily with Caruso. Tipping a brow up with a winning smile, Ben pushed out onto the porch past Mrs. Manns-Scott.

"Benjamin Briggs, ma'am, and I can hardly believe a young lady like you is old enough to have a daughter," he noted sweetly, pacing off the porch and to the gate. Flattered and then baffled, the woman followed after.

"Er, yes, I do, little Christina is five and already talking about the Olympics... er... Where are you going? Aren't you going to quiet your pets down?" she faltered.

Ben stopped at the gate, tilting his head. Mrs. Manns-Scott halted a few steps away, regarding him oddly. No one knew much about this man that had lived in the cottage a few months, and when the Manns-Scotts moved in shortly after, all anyone could say was Ben was quiet, friendly, occasionally did noisy work, seemed well off, and had two strange little companions.

"So you're saying the music and kids singing is so loud it's disturbing your kids practice," Ben clarified mildly. She nodded quickly.

"Christina must have absolute focus or she..."

"What's your name, ma'am?" Ben asked, cutting her off with absent ease.

"Er, Katherine," the woman responded, completely off guard. Really, this wasn't how this was supposed to go at all.

"Katherine," Ben repeated, warm as his smile, "You realize that standing out here at the gate, we can't hear the record player or the kids, right?"

Katherine faltered badly, but pulled a wintery smile onto her face.

"Well, they turned it down, obviously, it was terrifically loud just a few moments ago."

"I find that hard to believe, ma'am, considering you can't turn that record player up or down, it's a hand crank set. There's no amplifier, no speakers, just a needle and a sound cone. It's loud in the living room and that's about it," Ben told her with a calm and understanding smile.

The stunned stupidity glaringly stamped onto Katherine's face was almost pretty, Ben decided, regarding the effect his words had on her. Her skin was red, her mouth opened and closed as if trying to find words.

"If you're hearing my kids, then I'd like to know how," Ben went on, more firm than kind, "You folks just moved in a few weeks after we did, if this is your way of getting to know the neighbor and making sure we're in our place knowing you and your family is superior, then I suggest you study your subject better."

"I heard them!" Katherine finally managed to choke, but in truth, she'd only seen the dragon and gimpi bouncing about through the front window, and realized they were singing and dancing.

"I'm sure," Ben replied crisply, "I trust that now you know there is no stereo system here, you may now go on to tell the old gal living on the other side of you that her sewing machine is disturbing."

"That is not why I am here, how dare you?!" Katherine yelped, "Those creatures of yours --"

"Those are my kids," Ben corrected her coolly, "Which everyone else around here picked up real quick when I said 'my kids'."

"Oh, really, it's one of those annoying gwee dragons and a filthy little imp!"

"Treat them like that again, and you'll find out just how little I take to people who barge up to my house lying about my kids to make herself feel better since they've been reduced to living in this tatty neighborhood," Ben murmured politely, opening the gate for her, "Have a nice afternoon, Katherine."

Katherine gaped, her face flaming red all over again.

"Honestly, I came over to introduce myself and to ask for them to quiet down while Christina has her practice!" she choked.

"I don't know about you, ma'am, but if my kids were practicing something requiring a lot of concentration, I wouldn't find that to be a good time to go have it out with the neighbors. I'd be standing there making sure she wasn't getting hurt or anything," Ben pointed out easily.

"She has her coach," Katherine yelped. Ben just smiled, distant and pleasant, as he shut the gate behind her and returned to his home. She stared as he walked back inside.

Worse, the old cat that did sewing was watching the entire scene from her garden. Katherine shot the old lady a determinedly cheery smile as she barely managed to keep from stalking back to her own house.

"If that's you people's idea of a nice, quiet, well off man, then I would hate to see one you think is a monster," Katherine snapped abruptly at the old woman. The lady blinked several times, a seraphic smile on her face as she adjusted her glasses.

"I could have told you that Ben doesn't think people coming to complain to him about his littles is very charming, dear. I suppose that might work with some men, but not him. You shouldn't watch so much television."

Katherine gave an aggravated snort, sweeping by to bang into her house. Nevermind that she had seen it on a television show, the perky young single mother complaining about the handsome and wealthy bachelor about his dogs, in the process being invited in, discovering the dogs were delightful and their owner even moreso. No one was supposed to realize that she'd seen it on the television.

Those things, they weren't anything more than pets. No one should hold a pet in higher regard than a person. Unless, of course, it was a highly bred animal and the person was just common street trash.

Yet he had. How dare he...?

Katherine paused as the obnoxiously bland gymnastics trainer met her in the living room with a bow.

"Oh, what is it, Greta, it can't possibly have been an hour," Katherine demanded, annoyed.

"It has not, I was only paid to be here for twenty minutes," Greta responded evenly, "Christina's father has decided an hour daily was too much for a small child who has not shown any real flair for it, and has thus reduced my visits to twenty minute sessions thrice a week."

Katherine gaped at the woman in shock.

"What? How could he? He knows Christina lives and breaths gymnastics! You said yourself that she could be the best!"

"I said that any child with a dedication to and love of gymnastics could be the best. Christina has neither," Greta reminded her flatly.

"Well, we shall certainly see about this!" Katherine bellowed, storming off to the kitchen, pulling her cel phone from her purse. Greta exhaled, shaking her head as she left. She doomed to be the centerpiece in yet another rousing game of divorce court tag.  

[BenjaminBriggs]

Chapter 5
Neighborhood Watch

"Alright, Little Bit, Scorch, you go on outside, Dad's gonna try not and blow the house off 'er foundations," Ben called one fine morning. Scorch creeled and wheedled, because when Dad did things that might blow up, it was always the best. The gimpi wasn't so sure about explosions, it'd seen them in the movie Dad took them to see, and there was a lot of fire and noise.

"Not this time, maybe when you're both bigger," Ben chuckled, scuffing Scorch's head and catching the gimpi to plop into the dragonettes paws, "Out you go, you stay in the yard, and holler if you need me. Scorch, you keep an eye on your brother."

That was a problem to some extent, both Scorch and the Gimpi could fly. Not well, granted, but enough to get both into trouble. Ben walked them out into the yard, glancing over at Katherine's house to make sure the stupid bint wasn't sitting at her window, waiting for another excuse to barge over and b***h at him.

Though Katherine hadn't made another appearance in the month odd since her first visit, he didn't think for a moment that she'd leave his or any of the neighborhood kids alone if she thought she could get away with it.

She'd already shown up at one neighborhood meeting to tell them all how shabby their yards were, how loud and out of control their children and pets were, how the Baskers grass was too high and Miss Winslow's trees weren't properly pruned.

Helpfully, Katherine had a three inch thick book of how a neighborhood should ideally look. It covered everything from house styles and paint to what sort of trash cans were acceptable to proper behavior of the neighbors.

Katherine promised to faithfully carry out every one of the book's bylaws if she was appointed to be the neighborhood chairman. She would make the hideous relic of a neighborhood into a real showpiece, as there were special provisions for historic homes. And she would do this all for only five thousand gold a month, which was easily paid as dues to the neighborhood council, which she would head.

The current neighborhood council politely declined her kind offer and the book both. Though it was rumored that Ben was quite well off, no one else was. All they needed was to watch each other, keep their families safe, and make sure everyone got along.

Though no one was quite sure how Katherine had ended up there, they could certainly guess that an ugly divorce was at the bottom of it. There wasn't any sign of the woman, so Ben turned back to his house, stepping down to the cellar.

It'd taken some months, but Ben had re-tooled his time-flight apparatus to cut small viewing holes in reality. He could locate the deposits of the various minerals and organics needed by the tattoo shop and other dealers and gather them himself without needing to try and get the orcs or dark elves to put their asses on the line for a lot of potion work.

It really wasn't that Ben needed the money. Far from it. He was used to hard work, and never really was able to lay back and enjoy the wealth he'd accumulated. Then there was Katherine. He could see her managing to make life difficult for her neighbors, she was a cold and ambitious woman used to being rich. Ben wasn't about to let her screw anyone in that neighborhood.

Everyone had accepted Ben and his odd 'kids', and that was worth far more than any treasure the old sky captain could imagine.

Scorch bumped the big red bouncy ball from the car shed, and the gimpi swooped happy loops around it. It was really too heavy for the gimpi to move much or at all, but it could bounce on its rubber surface as Scorch batted it around.

They made their own odd game of it, Scorch thwapping the ball to rebound off of the porch, the gimpi diving down to bounce up and over Scorch's head, Scorch making running dives to catch his brother. They cheeped and chortled happily over their play.

Beady brown eyes watched the twosome through the slats of the fence, scowling, little hands gripping the white pickets. Stupid things. They were just pets and they shouldn't be having all that much fun. She didn't get to have that much fun.

Scorch paused with a whistle, realizing they were being watched. As soon as he spotted the little girl glaring at them, he caught the gimpi in his paws and hustled for the porch to hide. Baffled and rattled, the gimpi complained about all this, finally bobbing up to peer at the girl.

The gimpi didn't know much about children, but Scorch did. Before Dad found him, mean kids threw rocks and firecrackers at him, yelled at him and chased him. Sometimes they'd watch him having fun, with mean eyes like this girl, and then drive him away.

Scorch and the gimpi consulted over this, and finally, the gimpi puffed. Maybe the girl was just different like they were. Scorch was unimpressed with that assessment, they'd seen her mother yelling at the other kids.

The gimpi flipped his skinny tail. He was going to see. Because maybe it was just a hurt and lost and lonely kid. Scorch exhaled and rolled his eyes. Fehing, Scorch folded his little arms over his chest, glowering after his brother.

The girl had mean eyes. She was a rock-thrower if Scorch ever saw one. The gimpi wasn't listening. He fluttered closer to the fence and warbled prettily at the girl. She scowled. The gimpi ventured a bit closer.

She didn't look hurt, or lost, or lonely. Just mad. The gimpi couldn't figure what she was mad about. He flapped a little higher and could see into her yard. There were all sorts of neat toys. Her hair was shiny blond and combed into a pony tail with a ribbon. Her dress was pretty and new.

The girl ducked down more, and the gimpi creeled, confused. Scorch, however, his eyes widened and he took a running, flying leap for his dingbat brother, catching the gimpi in his paws and looping up higher just as the little girl pitched a clod of dirt at him.

Scorch hovered well out of reach and scolded the girl angrily, holding the gimpi against any other sneak attacks. She made nasty faces at them.

"I saw that, Christina Manns-Scotts!"

One of the other neighborhood girls stomped up to the fence from the street, her dirty face angry.

"You could have hurt them, and they're just babies! You are the meanest brat ever," she announced.

"You're a trash girl, Emma, nothing you say matters and they're just weird stupid things, not even pets!" Christina snapped right back.

"You're the trash girl, only trash girls think other people don't matter, and I'm telling Mr. Ben right now you were throwing dirt clods at his kids," Emma retorted stiffly as she wrestled with the gate.

Scorch yowled, astonished, as Christina snatched up another dirt clod to huck at Emma. It struck the other girl in the arm.

"Ow! Stop it, you creep!" Emma yelped.

"You go away! I'll tell them you're lying just to get me in trouble, and they'll believe me because I'm not a dirty trashy girl like you are!" Christina screeched, finding several pebbles and flinging them at Emma.

Scorch growled angrily. If ever a brat deserved a face full of dragon-fire, it was Christina, but Dad told him never, ever flame at anyone unless he absolutely had to. The gimpi was terrified and creeling in alarm, but Scorch knew he could fly them to safety without torching that little brat.

Emma was a brave girl and ran right to the porch and ducked, stinging and sore, biting back sobs of anger and pain. She hazarded a quick look to the fence and rushed to bang on the screen door, yelling 'Hello?!"

Scorch flapped over the house and landed on the chimney, keening as loud as he could down it. It only took a few moments for the sounds of Dad crashing up the steps to come after all that racket.

Ben smacked the screen door open, cutting a baffled look to the sobbing little girl and yelling for Scorch and Little Bit, which fell flat when a rock struck the man between the eyes.

Christina froze, her eyes huge, realizing far too late Ben had come to the door. She dropped the rest of the rocks and ran for her house, bawling at the top of her lungs.

Scorch fluttered down to the porch, wailing, and Ben exhaled, gathering up the lot of them, girl, gimpi and dragon to soothe them down and assess their injuries before going any further.  

[BenjaminBriggs]

Chapter 6
Head Games

Katherine's automatic denial of any wrongdoing on her precious innocent daughter's part froze as she opened the door to see Ben, and specifically, a neat round bruise rising at the bridge of his nose. So that's what Christina had meant by the mean man throwing rocks.

"Mrs. Manns-Scotts," Ben noted, his voice terrifyingly calm and even, "If I ever even think your child is out here throwing rocks at the other children, I will have the constables out to deal with it. Are we clear?"

"Ridiculous. My baby would never - she said they were throwing rocks at her," Katherine announced, drawing herself up. Ben's head tilted, he all but loomed over the woman, his steel gray eyes cold. Katherine shrank back, unnerved. This was a big man, she hadn't realized before how big. He never seemed to be so.

"I don't think I need to repeat myself," he informed her in a dangerous bass thrum. Katherine shook her head quickly, wide eyed. Ben gave a thin, cold smile and nod before turning to walk away.

Katherine bit her lower lip, thinking quickly. This could work quite well, after all, she'd seen it on her soap operas. Plastering an indulgent, apologetic smile across her face, she dashed after Ben, catching him at the gate.

"I really am sorry, Ben, it's just that Christina - well, she really needs a good father figure to help guide her. She's been so angry and hurt since her biological father cut off her gymnastics coach and he never comes to visit," she explained, all good woman bravely facing adversity to his cool gaze.

"It's been so terribly hard for both of us, I mean, we've been so dramatically reduced, it's difficult to even conceive of what will become of us," Katherine went on, doe eyed as she reached to catch Ben's arm. He still just watched, cold and indifferent.

There had to be a way past the old goat's facade. After all, he doted on those stupid creatures of his.

"Why don't you come in, and you can talk to Christina, and I'll make tea and we can get to know each other," Katherine offered with a winning smile, "I'm positive she'll understand it's wrong to throw rocks like she was once she hears it from you."

Ben eyed the woman, his expression bland. He carefully removed her hand from his arm.

"What your daughter needs is parents who take responsibility for themselves. Or is that why you're divorced now?" he noted, arctic, as he strode away.

Katherine gaped at the mans back as he marched back to his own home, but by the time she had any sort of a comeback to level at him, he was through the door.

Those stupid little monsters. If it wasn't for them, Katherine would already have Ben wrapped around her little finger. Precisely, her empty ring finger.

It just didn't make any sense. She was beautiful, her hair was perfect and gloriously blond, her eyes were gorgeous brown, her figure was slender yet curved in all the right places, her skin was tanned to perfection.

Katherine scowled at her own reflection in one of the many strategically placed mirrors throughout the mangy little house. She'd been the most desirable of all the cheerleaders and debutantes of her class, she was intelligent, witty, charming, and knew how to appeal to any man's taste.

In fact, it was appealing to any man's taste which her ex husband cited in his reasons for divorcing her. He didn't have any real proof, and the proof he had shown to the court was all faked by that creepy private detective he'd hired. Just that he didn't trust her was heartbreaking.

Even if she had been seeing other men, it was all his fault for not trusting her. He just was too jealous to accept her having young, handsome, male friends.

All those young, handsome male friends had vanished once Katherine was divorced, but she didn't care. They didn't have money or good jobs, they weren't worth her time. But her stupid ex husband had trumpeted it around that she was cheating on him, and none of his friends would have anything to do with her. Not even the married ones. It was absurd.

It should be child's play to get under Ben's skin. He was an old bachelor with money, he never would have had the chance to have a woman like her in his youth. Now there she was, even willing to overlook his rough edges and rude, boorish behavior, and he brushed her off.

"You'll just have to stay away from Mr. Ben's pets, he's not being reasonable at all about it," Katherine announced as Christina slank up behind her mother.

"But but but they threw..." she stammered, lying without a qualm in the world.

"We'll just have to be better than they are and walk away," Katherine nodded firmly.  

[BenjaminBriggs]

Chapter 7
Sister!

Emma was a nice human girl, and most of the other kids were nice human kids. The gimpi was too little to go outside the gate and play with the bigger kids, but Dad let Scorch go sometimes. The gimpi sulked at the gate those times, even when Dad chided him to entertain himself.

Well, why should he, Scorch wasn't. Scorch wasn't all by himself in the yard with no one to play with. Ben peered at the fluttering ball of belligerence, struggling to keep from laughing at the long, whiny scold the creature gave.

The gimpi and Scorch knew Dad couldn't really understand them, but he tried. A lot of times, they forgot. It would be nice if he could, though, because then they could tell him that liver every Thursday was blech.

"Well, then why don't you come with me and we'll read?" Ben soothed the ired little gimpi.

Reading sounded putrid. Everything did. Everything sucked. The gimpi fluffed up his little wings and had a fine grump, ignoring Ben as best he could as the old man toted him into the house.

Ben eased back in his cushy rocker, reaching over to pick up an old adventure novel. The gimpi was determined to not be appeased, and squirmed, squeaking all the way, under Ben's shirt.

But... it was really kind of a neat story Ben was reading, and his voice was comfortable to feel as well as hear. It was about pirates and a kid and treasure and and and...

"Benji?" a woman called from the front door, her voice doubtful as it was polite, "You seem to have grown a boob."

Ben paused in his reading, lifting his grizzled brows, and moved the book to look down at himself.

"Damnit if I did. Big one, too," he responded, laconic before grinning, "Come on in, Sissy. How'd you manage to track me down?"

"Found your ship half embedded in a few thousand tons of quartz crystal and started computations on what was close enough for you to get to with your time-flight," she replied with a breezy grin as she stepped in.

The gimpi peered at the lady from under cover of Ben's shirt. She was a pretty lady, in brown leathers, goggles on her head, short spiky black hair and bright gray eyes. She smelled like Ben, too, of dust, leather, old things, and the odd sundery scent of time.

"Make me proud," Ben beamed, squeezing her shoulder when she leaned to kiss his cheek. He shifted, fishing out the gimpi briefly to show, but the little one squeaked and scrabbled right back under cover.

"Ohh, that is adorable, it looks like an imp, but I've never seen one like that," Sissy giggled.

"Well, he's a sort of imp, I call him Little Bit, haven't really got a proper name for him yet. I guess I should, he's about six months. But it took a year for me to name Scorch," Ben admitted humorously.

"Mama said you didn't have a name for your own ship for a year," Sissy grinned, plopping to the sofa, "Scorch being the little dragon out playing with the kids, I take it?"

"Right on the nose. My kids," he nodded, another proud grin lighting his scarred features.

"Well, good, they seem to have anchored you down, that'll make the academy even happier than knowing you're not currently a marvelous decorative statue at the helm of your ship," Sissy laughed, leaning over to try and get another look at the gimpi.

The gimpi peered at the lady suspiciously at that. It sounded like making Dad move away. But Dad was chuckling, shaking his head.

"Not goin' back, Sis."

Sissy blinked several times, going still as she stared at him. She pushed a stilted smile on her face.

"You're kidding, right? I've got my ship in synchronous time hold, we can transfer your things up, pack you and your boys and be back in a week, real time."

"I'm not going back. This is my home now," Ben assured her placidly, turning to meet her gaze.

"But the academy, the royal court, me, and Mom and Mama, and I want you to give me away at my wedding, I'm getting married..." Sissy faltered, staring at the man.

"They've gotten on fine for the five years it took for you to track me down, and you're too young to be married," he responded. The gimpi squeaked, however, thoughtful. Sister? This lady was his sister?

"Oh Benji, I'm twenty five, honestly, and you'll like him, he's on board my ship now, in fact. We've worked together for ages," she chided, sticking out her tongue to prove how mature she was, though her gaze was worried, "But... I thought home was with me and Mom and Mama."

"When it could be," Ben agreed, only to startle faintly as the gimpi came fluttering out from under cover to do a happy-bouncy-flight around Sissy's head. Sister, sister, they had a big sister!

"...What'd I say?" Sissy sputtered laughing, charmed by the happy little creature.

"I think he's got it in his head you're his sister," Ben responded, amused. In response, the gimpi plopped his round little self into Sissy's hands, as smug as smug could be.

"Ohh, well, I guess so, little bit, because he's always been a dad for me," Sissy assured the gimpi with a warm caress, stealing a concerned gaze at Ben, "Mama's been real upset you've been missing, that's saying a lot considering how much she hates most men. Mom's been just sick thinking you're dead."

"I'll make sure they know where I am, and I'll be honored to give you away at your wedding, Sissy. But... Well. This is the first time since I was a boy that I really felt like I was home," Ben assured her warmly.

"But you were home when you were with us," Sissy protested, cuddling the gimpi, her voice thick. Ben grimaced faintly, pausing to choose over his words.

"Home never meant a place to me, Sissy. It meant the ones I loved. Whenever your mom and mama sent you to stay with me, whenever they had me staying with you all, it was home," he explained carefully, "This time, it's a place, it's people here, it's my boys. It's like where I grew up."

"But..." she whimpered, and the gimpi whined along with her, though he wasn't quite sure what was going on. Maybe there was a mom or two, too, and why couldn't they come home?

"But, nothing," Ben chuckled gently, reaching over to grip her hand, "You're off on your own now, and when you need me, you come find me. Even when no one else could. Your mom and mama have their own home with each other with you on your own, and now I do, too."

"I thought you'd live with them when I moved out," Sissy pouted, and the gimpi cheeped just as sulkily. Ben laughed abruptly.

"Girl, you know very well the only reason they tolerate me is out of sheer guilt," he reminded her, "And because you needed me."

"I still do!"

"I'm still here for you, I always will be," Ben chuckled, warm as the squeeze to her fingers, "Stop your fussing, you're teaching your little brother more whining, and he's already just fine at it."

"And it's not just guilt, they're really upset thinking you were dead. A survey craft sent word back three years ago about your ship. Mom and Mama refused to let anyone declare you dead, but they thought you were," Sissy huffed, her lower lip pushed out.

"We'll tell them where I am, and I'll visit," he promised, pausing at the scold the gimpi spouted off with. He grinned wryly to the little one, scruffing the gimpi gently.

"We're visiting, and they can visit, but I don't know if they're wanting to be moms to you boys yet," he assured the gimpi warmly, "Maybe aunties."

"The boys would learn a lot back at Prime, Benji, and from Mom and Mama. There's the academy, too. Even though he's different, he's still an imp," Sissy pointed out.

"This is their home. When they're older and they want to go, then we will. This is the only place imps like him have shown up. He'll always be a little different, but he's less different here."

"I thought you'd be mad to get back to Prime," Sissy finally noted, helpless. Ben grimaced faintly.

"It's just a lot of old, bad memories for me, Sissy. You've been the only good thing that never reminded me of ten other things I didn't want to remember. Why do you think I was always off exploring, doing studies?"

"Because you're the greatest time space explorer and scientist ever," she replied, prompt and loyal. Ben gave a bark of laughter.

"Oh, gods, I am not. I was looking for my own place. My own home. My own family. You know I got taken from my parents when I was just a teenager, and all I ever wanted was to somehow have that back," he explained warmly.

"But your parents, the planet, everything, it's all gone," Sissy reminded him rather squeamishly. He nodded, exhaling slowly. The pain of that loss remained keen through the years.

"I know. But this place is so much like it, I wonder if this isn't it. If my homeworld wasn't destroyed, just pushed so far back in time and then lost, and I just happened to find it again."

"Is that possible?" Sissy frowned, abruptly looking around as if the answers were in the homey, comfortable living room. Ben nodded after a moment.

"Theoretically, yes. A planet could be bumped back on its own development, and promptly appear to be a totally different place because it was now a few millennia years older in the space of moments."

"Well then Sunny and I have something new to work on," Sissy decided firmly, "I mean besides convincing Mama that she'll survive having a son in law."

Ben sputtered laughing, shaking his head.

"I'll talk to her, she'll get over it. It's not just that he's a male, it's that she never dreamed you would ever grow up, way worse than me about it."

Sissy gazed at Ben in pure relieved gratitude, getting up to throw herself into his arms for a hug.

"Oh thank the gods and goddesses," she blurted out, giggling as the gimpi squeaked at being squished. Sissy rescued him to nuzzle affectionately.

"Don't worry, little guy. I'll be your big sister, and you'll always have me and your daddy."

The little gimpi warbled adoringly, tiny arms and thin tail wrapped around as much of Sissy as he could. And it was all the better because Scorch was outside with the big kids and the gimpi had her all for himself first.