Quaranteam - 808 State Ch. 18

Hey folks, my profound apologies for the long delay between chapters. Mahalo nui loa to everyone who reached out — your encouragement and kind words truly helped, particularly when I was struggling and feeling low; it was good to be able to see that people appreciated my writing and wanted more.

Mahalo to Devin McTaggert for letting me haʻi moʻolelo (tell stories) in his Quaranteam universe. And mahalo to the other spinoff authors and readers!

Chapter 18

July 13, 2020 – early evening

Mal was preparing dinner for his now-almost doubled ʻohana — after a quick poll, pad kra pao had been agreed upon — but only after Mal promised to remove the basil leaves and bunches from Kat's serving.

"You know, Kat, I think... Without the basil, I think it's just, uh, pad." Mal had told his daughter. "So, Aunties and I are gonna kaukau full on pad kra pao, but for you, I'm gonna take out the basil, and you just have pad, yeah? K-den, Kat. You no make habuts later!"

Mal was slicing the slightly thawed, but still firm, frozen chicken breast into thin strips. Stainless prep bowls of roughly cut purple yardlong beans, shallots, and red Thai holy basil sat on the counter. A much smaller bowl with seeded and diced Hawaiian chili peppers was carefully placed well away from the counter edge and stovetop.

Kat, who had been playing in the studio after helping her dad and newly-acquired Aunties gather the ingredients for dinner from the garden — that is, all of the vegetables used — called from the other room, "Daddy, can you read me the 'genie-sis' story tonight?"

Evelyn, who had just turned the rice pot to "Cook", and was leaning against the counter as she watched Mal slice the chicken with a small smile crinkling the corners of her mouth, reacted — suddenly jerking upright, while shooting a glare at Kirsten. "Sorry, Kat-honey, what did you say again?" she called out.

"The genie-sis story. I saw it on one of Mommy's papers on her table — I think they forgot a letter, and it was mashed together, but I think I recognized 'genie' from my Aladdin storybook. Is 'genie-sis' about when the Genie gets a sister? Cause I want Daddy to read me that story tonight! Come on, I'll show you!" Kat came through the doorway and started pulling at Mal's shirt.

"Hold on, Kat, I need to wash my hands first."

The little girl waited impatiently, tapping her foot. As soon as Mal released the drying towel, she grabbed his hand and tugged her father toward the studio.

Mal allowed himself to be pulled along. "We'll take a look, sweetie, but if you saw it in Mommy's papers, I'm not sure it's a story you'll be interested in..."

"Here, Daddy! This one!" The little girl lifted several sheets of paper — neatly stapled together — from the stack on Gwen's desk, and showed it to Mal. "See, Daddy? Genie-sis. Right there at the top!"

Mal looked at the paper, and after a moment, took it from Kat. It appeared to be a printout of a pharmaceutical research paper. The title read, Genesis of anaphrodisiac precursor compounds (isothiocyanates) in Tropaeolum tuberosum (common name mashua). He frowned.

*Anaphrodisiac? Like 'not-aphrodisiac'? Gwen's researching how to make libido suppressants?* Mal sighed. *Not like I shouldn't expect this, after what she said while we were, uh. Fucking, Mal, it was fucking. Yeah. Fuck. Just... sucks actually seeing it. But... Gwen was smiling. She liked it, I know she enjoyed us having sex! Godsdamn it. Okay, Mal, just... One day at a time.*

"Oh, kitty-Kat, I'm so sorry, but this isn't a story at all, kiddo." Mal knelt down by his daughter and pointed to the first word. "I know that word kinda looks a little like Genie, but look, it's missing the 'i'. That changes the word — this word is 'genesis' which means 'making'. Can you say 'jen-knee-sis'?"

Kat's face fell. "Oh. So... It's NOT about the Genie from Aladdin? Aww. I was hoping Mommy found a story where the Genie got a sister! They could play in the woods together and build Legos together and go on carpet and camel rides... Oh. Well." The little girl's eyes started to brim with tears.

"Daddy! How come I don't have a sister? Someone I can play with? It's not fair! My friends from preschool had brothers and sisters, but not me!" Kat burst out crying, and Mal dropped the printout and hugged his daughter tightly.

"Oh, Kat, I'm sorry, honey, I know. I wish you had a brother or sister, kitty-Kat, I really do, but Mommy and Daddy are so happy and lucky that we have you — for so long we didn't know if we'd ever have any little girl or little boy! And one day, you'll have a little brother or sister, I promise you, honey!"

Evelyn and Kirsten, who had followed and had been watching from the doorway came into the studio and wrapped themselves around Kat as well.

Evelyn spoke, her voice thick with emotion, "Oh, Kat-honey! I remember how lonely I got at home sometimes when I was a little girl like you — I didn't have any brothers or sisters growing up, and my cousins were a lot younger than I was. And your Auntie Kirs too — she was an only child growing up. But you know what was awesome? I got to spend so much time with my daddy, and he taught me so much! Just like your Daddy does with you!" Evelyn kissed Kat on her tear-streaked cheek.

Kirsten chimed in, "And like your Daddy said, Kat, you'll be a big sister one day! Then you'll get to teach your little sisters and brothers how to build Legos, and read books and grow things in the garden with you and Daddy! And... Maybe even teach them to ride horses."

Kat hiccuped. "I'm gonna be a big sister? When?"

The young women both flushed. They both started to speak, then stopped. Kirsten looked at Evelyn, and while Mal couldn't decipher it, he KNEW that the mysterious female communication protocol was humming between the two.

Evelyn resumed speaking. "Oh, Kat-honey, we don't know WHEN you'll be a big sister, but I'm sure it'll happen soon. But it'll be a little while before your little sisters or brothers will be able to play with you, yeah? They'll be babies for a while, and they need to learn to crawl, then walk — do you know how long it took you to learn to walk after you were born?"

"Daddy?!" Kat, eyes still bleary from crying, looked at her father.

"Uh. You started walking just before you turned one, kiddo. But it took a while before you were as good at it as you are now. So, I'm sorry, Kat, but you gotta be patient. And while you're waiting, you gotta try and learn everything you want to teach, yeah?"

Kat snuffled, and wiped her arm across her nose, leaving a smear of hanabata across her face. "Okay, Daddy, I'll be a patient." The little girl motioned toward the tissue box, and Mal raised his eyebrows.

"Kat, is there something you want?"

His daughter nodded. And motioned again.

"Sweetie, we've talked about this. You need to ask for something if you want people to know what you want."

Kat blew out an exasperated breath and grumbled, "Tissue. Please."

*****

Dinner was greedily enjoyed by all — save for a brief complaint from Kat when she encountered a basil leaf that Mal had missed in her food. Mal grabbed it with his chopsticks and popped it in his mouth before she'd even finished her initial expression of displeasure.

After dinner, Evelyn leaned back in her chair and said, "Mal, you just secured your position on the Team. You feed me like that regularly, kuʻu ipo, and I'll-" Evelyn recalled that there were little ears present, and revised what she was going to say. "Uh. I'll eat every bit that you dish up for me, Mal!"

Mal cocked an eyebrow at her. "I've only now secured a spot on the Team? Got it. Sounds like I need to be sure to keep 'the Evelyn' well fed, so I don't jeopardize my standing!"

The young woman giggled. "No, I- Shoot. Yeah, that didn't come out how I meant it to, Mal, I was trying to tell you that was one of the best dinners I've ever had made for me by a guy. But, uh. I had to change what I was gonna say."

"Did you forget the word you wanted, Auntie Evvy? I do that too. But you did really good, I didn't even know you'd messed up!" Kat fiddled with her fork. "I get scoldings, sometimes, cause I'm not supposed to get all irraz or make habuteru when I can't remember a word."

Mal leaned over and put his arm around Kat's tiny shoulders. "Oh, kiddo. I know it's hard sometimes. Daddy has trouble bringing the right word to mind sometimes too. And you know what? Your Grandma Cora, Daddy's mom, also sometimes had the same problem. It's one of those weird family things, and while it can be very frustrating, it also reminds me of your Grandma, and makes me feel connected to her, whenever it happens, sweetie." He kissed the top of her head.

"Try not to get frustrated, sweetie, think about the word you want, and if you really no can remember, 'da kine' um."

Kat giggled. "Okay, Daddy. I'll tell Mommy you told me to 'da kine um', next time I forget."

"Oh! Sharper than a serpent's tooth!" Mal clutched at his chest and rocked back in his chair

"You're silly, Daddy!" Kat looked across the table at Evelyn and Kirsten, who were nodding solemnly in agreement with the little girl's assessment.

Mal started to gather the plates. Kirsten grabbed them from him. "What. Are. You, doing?"

Evelyn scowled at Mal. "Yeah, seriously, Mal. You think we're going to make you clean the dishes after you made us that delicious dinner? Anyway, doesn't Kat need her bath? I'm pretty sure the schedule that Gwen gave me had bath right after dinner."

Mal suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, settling for squeezing them shut as he said, "Okay, speaking as the parent who has been taking care of Kat alone for the past several months, I would very much like to see this schedule."

Evelyn pulled a folded sheet of paper from her back pocket and handed it to Mal. He unfolded it and looked at Gwen's neat handwriting. A small sigh escaped him.

"Well, it looks like Gwen got everything, except for dinner clean-up, but since this is a schedule for Kat, I guess that's fair. And, to be honest, aside from putting the food in for leftovers, I clean the cookware and dishes either after Kat's bath, or once she's asleep, anyway."

Kirsten came back from taking the dishes to the kitchen. "Uh, I don't think there's any leftovers, Mal. Is that okay? Sorry, it was so yummy, I should have thought about saving some for Gwen!"

Mal shook his head. "No worries, lass. I need to adjust my cooking to feed all of us, me, Gwen, you two beautiful ladies... And this ravenous little creature here!"

"Daa-ddy! I'm a little girl!"

"Oh, right, right, honey. Girl, creature. Don't know why I keep getting them mixed up! Okay, little crea- girl, time to bocha!" Mal looked at the clock. "And then, kiddo, it's brushing teeth, and straight to bed."

"Stories." Kat made her opening bid.

"Story."

Evelyn and Kirsten were watching the interplay between father and daughter intently.

"Two stories?"

Evelyn grabbed Kirsten's hand and let out a soft, "D'ahh," at Kat's question.

"One, slightly longish, then bed."

Kat thought for a moment, biting the corner of her lip, as she eyed the three adults. "One story... From Auntie Evvy."

Evelyn let out a squeak, as she clutched her hand to her heart. "Yes, absolutely, Kat! Oh, sorry Mal, if it's okay with you, that is. If your Daddy says yes, Kat, that's what I meant to say!"

Mal chuckled. "You're committed now. Hope you're good at voices."

"Daddy!"

*****

Mal bathed Kat while the ladies washed the cookware. Fortunately, as it was not a hair-washing night, and Mal's pre-bath brushing inspection of Kat's hair found no remaining bits of moss, the bath was quickly completed, and in short order, the little girl was dressed in her Belle nightgown (with a pair of pajama pants under to guard against the cool night air), and was brushing her teeth as her father supervised.

Kirsten and Evelyn were hovering at the bathroom doorway. Kat spat out her toothpaste foam and said, "Daddy, you need to move. I think Aunties need to make shishi."

Kirsten burst out laughing. "Oh, sorry, Kat, no! We're just watching — your Daddy does such a good job taking care of you, and now that we're your Aunties, we're hoping sometimes maybe we'll get to help. So we can learn for your siblings."

Kat paused, the toothbrush back in her mouth. "Si-ings?"

"Kat, don't speak when there's something in your mouth, honey," Mal gently admonished the little girl.

Kat pulled the toothbrush out and spat into the sink. "Sorry Daddy. Auntie Kirs, what are siblings?"

"Brothers and sisters, Kat. Now that we're part of your ʻohana, Auntie Evvy and I want to be as awesome as your Mommy, and be mommies to adorable little girls like you! And also little boys, who we hope will grow up to be just like your Daddy." Kirsten leaned in and stroked Mal's cheek, her eyes shining with affection.

"Oh. Okay. Auntie Kirsten, you get to read me a story tomorrow night." Kat racked her toothbrush in the holder and hopped down from the stool. "Come on, Auntie Evvy, let's go choose my story. Daddy, no easepopping."

"'Eavesdropping', Kat. Auntie Kirsten and I will be in the living room." Mal looked at Evelyn, "Holler if you need rescuing. Little miss will probably try and cajole a second story out of you. One, then bed, okay, Kat?"

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good. One story, then I go moe moe. I promise. Hug?"

Mal crouched down and hugged his daughter, kissing her cheek. "Of course, honey! I wouldn't be able to go to sleep if I didn't get my goodnight hug!"

Kat giggled, then grabbed Kirsten's legs, looking up at the tall woman. "Hug, Auntie Kirs?" Feeling Kirsten's legs shift, Kat released her hold. Kirsten dropped to her knees — Mal winced, thinking about how his joints no longer had that easy flexibility, as the haole woman enfolded the little girl in her arms.

"Anytime, Kat. All the hugs you want, little miss. You are so precious!" Kirsten turned Kat loose and stood back up, taking Mal's hand. As soon as Kat slipped out of the bathroom, grabbing Evelyn's hand along the way, Kirsten yanked Mal to her, wrapping her arms around him, placing her lips next to his ear.

The blue haired woman murmured in his ear, "You're gonna knock me up soon, right Mal? Please? I wanna have your babies, I wanna be a mommy. Watching you dad makes me so fucking broody." Hearing Kat's door close, Kirsten started rubbing herself against Mal, grinding her crotch against his. "I want you, Mal, want you in me."

Mal hugged the young woman. "Kirsten, as weird as I feel about all this that's going on, I want you too, but hold up for a bit. We need to be available if Evvy needs rescuing. Don't worry, beautiful, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. Although, I'm wondering, did you hear anything from Shannon yet on your Oracle results?"

Kirsten gave one last wriggle against Mal, then released him. "Shoot, I was supposed to check my email. Hold on." The blue-haired woman pulled out her phone and fiddled with it for a moment, before looking at Mal, her eyes excited.

She put the phone down on the sink counter, then seized Mal's face and mashed her lips to his. "Mmrph-murt mrrment!"

Kirsten broke the kiss. "Ninety-eight percent Mal! Actually, almost ninety-nine! Hmm. Now I gotta figure out what that missing one-point-three is. You wanna fuck me in the ass? No, wait, that's not it, I want that. Unless you don't? No, that's silly, you're a guy, all guys want that. Okay, think Kirsten, think."

Mal started laughing. "Kirsten, stop. Don't worry about it, beautiful. It doesn't matter. Seriously. Ninety-eight percent, really?"

"Ninety-eight point seven with you, Mal. I was fucking made for you, lover. Fuck. Almost wish I still believed in a divinity to thank for this. Mal, I wanna fuck. I wanna fuck you. I want to feel you filling me — oh snap- Evvy said you were gonna make me wriggle with your tongue — Mal, I want you to tongue-fuck me. Right now, Mal, lick my cunt until I'm blind!" Kirsten dropped her hands to waist-level and started fumbling at her jeans button.

Mal grabbed her hands. "Cool your jets, Kirsten. I want to spend some time with you — obviously, I've known Gwen for years," *62 percent* Mal closed his eyes briefly, before continuing, "And even though I didn't know Evelyn super well before we bonded, I'd at least spent some time over a few days with her, so it wasn't like we were strangers — not that you are, Kirs, but, I still don't really know who Kirsten is."

He led the young woman out of the bathroom, still holding both of her hands as he led her over to the living-room sofa. "Come on, sit with me, Kirs, I want to get to know the woman," Mal blushed, as he guided her to sit facing him in the sofa, angled, with their knees touching.

"Uh, gods above and below. The second woman who sucked my cock today." He shook his head. "Just so we're clear, Kirsten, that is NOT how I am typically. I've never moved that fast in any relationship. Hell, not even as fast as Evelyn and I went — not that ANY of her and my interactions before we bonded could be considered dates, but even if they were... Shit, not even in university would things have moved that fast.

"I'm astonished, amazed, and flattered, Kirsten, and," Mal leaned forward and kissed her briefly, "and I want to do all sorts of things with you, but I'm also a little overwhelmed by how fast all of this has been!"

Kirsten looked at Mal, a slight smile twitching her lips. "You're worried I'm going to think... What, you're a player? A man-slut? The guy who poured his worries out to me earlier? The guy who told me," Kirsten glanced over at the hallway leading to the bedrooms, "told me that he's got a long, hard, geek dick for me to ride on? That guy's worried I'm going to judge him for wanting to tumble into bed with me?"

The haole woman pushed Mal so he was leaning back against the sofa, then turned and curled herself up against him, wrapping his arms around her, lacing the fingers of her left hand through those of his right. She looked back over her shoulder at him, and brought her free hand up to his cheek.

"I'm never going to judge you like that, Mal. Like you, I don't jump into bed quickly. Hell, I sorta figured even if the 'side-chick' thing happened, we'd date for a bit before we got to you splashing sperm off my cervix. Or tonsils. Or, even, for that matter, before I let you play with Cupid's kettle drums."

Mal twitched and she explained, "Mah bewbs, Mal. My lovely lady lumps. Letting a guy get to second base doesn't just happen right away with me. Although you..." Kirsten slid her hand up from where she'd been caressing Mal's cheek, into his hair, and pulled his other hand down toward the bottom of her shirt. "I told you, Mal, last Friday, I felt like there was some connection between us. And now, I know there was. A connection that Oracle puts at 98.7 percent.

"You, my lover, the father of my future babies, the only man I'm ever going to fuck again, you make me throw everything out the window." She pulled her fingers from between Mal's, and guided his hand up under her t-shirt.

Kirsten arched her back as Mal's hand traveled up her belly until he reached her bra. Mal's fingers identified it as possibly a sports bra, no underwire, no front closure. He started to slide his fingers under the lower edge, then paused.

"Uh. Is this... I mean- I'm not going to make you sore if I slide my hand into your bra, am I? It seems a little... Snug."

Kirsten cursed softly under her breath, then pulled her hand out of Mal's hair and straightened up. "Keep an eye on the hallway. Warn me if Kat comes."

She pulled her arms inside her shirt, doing that complicated set of motions that women do to drive onlooking men wild — the set that invariably ends with the production of a bra, frequently coming out of an armhole. However, in this case, Mal saw Kirsten's shirt bunching up around her neck. The young woman's arms came out and she pulled the sports bra out of the neck hole and over her head, before handing the warm fabric to Mal with a smile.

"Ohhh. Gods above, Kirsten." Mal held the bra gently and brought it toward his face, feeling the lingering warmth of her breasts against his cheek. Her scent clung to the fabric and he inhaled deeply, before looking hungrily at the woman in front of him. He pulled her back against his body.

"You, my naughty little siren. You are going to be in so much trouble." Mal slid his right hand back under Kirsten's shirt, brushing quickly over the skin of her stomach as he returned to where he had paused before. With no fabric to bar the journey, he stroked the underside of her breast, sliding into the crease between underboob and torso, before trailing his fingers to the cleft between her bosoms.

Kirsten stretched, reaching one hand back to Mal's hair, covering Mal's left hand with hers and gently squeezing it. "Oh, Mal. You're teasing me! Ahhh, I thought you were just gonna grab on and start groping me, lover, but, ohhh. You are an evil, evil, wonderful man."

Mal kissed the helix of her ear. "So, Kirsten, aside from driving around, stalking older men on the real property assessment website, listening to gaming podcasts while fantasizing dressing up as characters from the game, what else do you like to do?"

"Oohhh, Mal, really? Now, you're asking me this stuff now? While you're teasing my tits? Goddamn it, play with my fucking nipples already, Mal! Oops, sorry! I didn't mean to cuss out loud! I'll be good Mal!" Kirsten looked back and up at Mal, alarm in her eyes.

Mal brought his free hand (the one not under Kirsten's shirt) around Kirsten's abdomen in a hug. "Hey, hey, hey there, beautiful. It's okay. I told you I don't have a problem with you swearing, just try and not do it around Kat. And, since you asked so insistently..." He moved his hand to cup her breast and closed his fingertips around her nipple. "Like this?"

Kirsten moaned softly, "Unnhhhh, yesss, Mal, just. Yeeesss. Like that. Ohhh. Uh. I- read. Yeah, read. And. Fuck. Want to fuck. No, I mean, yeah, I do, but. Oh damn, Mal. I can't think like this! You. You're so evil!"

Mal chuckled. "I'm sorry, Kirsten. I like playing with your breasts, but I really do want to get to know you better. I think I can safely say that we're well matched on my desire to play with your boobs against your enjoyment at me doing so?" He released Kirsten's nipple, but kept his hand in place, cupping her breast. It more than filled his hand, and he hefted it slightly to feel the deliciousness of her firm, yet soft and pliant tit-flesh. "Better?"

Kirsten was panting slightly. "Yeah. Hell yeah. Oh, wow. Yeah, Mal, I like having my tits played with. Groped, stroked, squeezed. Sucked on. You like that — Evvy told me. Fuck, I hope E and I have your kids at the same time. She told me you're not super into nursing, but Mal, I saw this porn vid one time, these two chicks were spraying milk from their tits at each other."

She pushed his hand down toward the waistband of her jeans. "I wanna do that with you and Evvy. I wanna get all messy, get my pussy all wet with my milk and Evvy's milk, then I want you to fuck our milky pussies and fill us with your cum. I want Evvy to shove her fat tit in my snatch, and squirt her milk up in my cunt so you can lick it outta me.

"Mal, I'm a kinky little slut. No, I'm your kinky little slut. You wanna fuck outside?" Mal nodded. "Good, me too. Car sex? We'll steam those fucking windows up like Kate and Leo."

She started to unbutton her jeans, but Mal held her hand still as he took her ear between his teeth and gently applied pressure. "Stop that, naughty girl. We've got lots of time to figure out sex. Back to you, Kirsten. So, I know you've read Pratchett's The Truth — I caught the Deep Bone quote you made to Shannon earlier. What else from the great Pterry? Do you do anything special on May 24th?"

"Other than making sure I have a lilac bloom for May 25th, no. But I sure as hell celebrate the Glorious Revolution by wearing that lilac and making a donation to the Orangutan Foundation in his memory. And, I never forget the hard-boiled egg. I've read every single one of the Discworld novels. I even have Where's My Cow." Kirsten looked challengingly up at Mal from where she was nestled against him.

Mal raised his eyebrows at her — not that he thought it was a great trick question, but he was still impressed at her comeback. "Nice. That was one of my favorite books to read to Kat when she was younger. Favorite song?"

Kirsten grinned. "Of all time, or presently?"

"Hmm. All time?"

"Ask me when entropy is at maximum." Her grin got wider, and her eyes sparkled at him. In response, Mal squeezed her breast, and the young woman let out a moan. "Cheater."

"Not cheating, just keeping us both at a simmer, beautiful." Mal caressed her breast some more before continuing. "Presently, then."

"Mmmm, that's nice, Mal. Uh, right now... I think... I Like Myself by K. Flay."

"Oh, she's good. I can't play, like, most of her songs, 'cause, well. Little ears. But I don't think I've heard that one?" Mal looked down at Kirsten. "How's it go?"

"Oh no, I ain't trying to sing — not without accompaniment, at least." She reached out a foot and carefully pulled her phone, which she'd set on the coffee table earlier, toward the edge, where she grabbed it between her first two toes.

Mal watched, as Kirsten carefully, slowly, curled and lifted her leg, flexing her calf muscles as she worked to maintain her grip on the phone until she was able to grab it with her hand.

"Hah! Got it!"

Mal nuzzled her ear, "Good girl." He slid his hand from her left breast to her right.

Kirsten shivered. "Mal, I'm warning you. Keep that shit up, and I'm gonna fucking mount you right here."

He started to pull his hand from her shirt.

"The hell you doing? Don't stop that. Just don't fucking call me a good girl into my damn ear at the same time. Jerk. I hope E lets me borrow a dry pair of panties. Evil man." She looked up and pursed her lips.

Mal leaned forward and met her lips. "You're beautiful, Kirsten. And funny, and smart. And-"

"Yours." Kirsten cut him off. "The word you need to understand — no. Grok this, Malcolm Pilchard. I. Am. Yours. Now, my man needs to hear my current favorite song. Unfortunately, as positive as the message of the song is, we can't add this to Kat's musical education. There's a bad word, and she talks about having a smoke — oh shit. That's not the one-point-three, is it? Please tell me you're not a smoker, Mal! No? Whew. Silly me, I should have known that. Only been with you all day, duh."

"I told you, stop worrying about it, Kirs. It doesn't matter." He hugged her as close as he could, one hand squeezing her breast, the other wrapped tight around her waist again. "You are mine. And I'm never going to take you, any of you, for granted."

Kirsten started to speak, but he shook his head to cut her off. "No, I know you'll be tied to me by the vaccine-bond, but you, and Gwen, and Evelyn. And Heavenlee, if she agrees to join us. And whomever else, you, all of you are women that I am truly privileged to be with."

"Flatterer. Now, you listen." Kirsten started the song, and after a few seconds, she started singing along quietly as she rocked along against Mal in time with the music.

After a bit, when the chorus came around again, Mal joined in, "... like myself most of the time! Is that a crime?"

The couple finished listening to the song, Kirsten quietly singing the entire song, Mal joining in — and messing up a little — where he thought he could.

After the song was finished, Kirsten looked up at Mal again, her eyes questioning.

He kissed her. "Yeah, good song, beautiful. But yeah. Drinking, smoking, the word 'fuck'. Not for Kat yet. Damn. Kinda the story with K. Flay. I'd love to have some more girl-power music for my kaikamahine — I mean, Dolores and Amy are legit vocal goddesses, but damn if I don't wish for some awesome clean girl hip-hop in rotation." Mal sighed.

Kirsten brought her hand down from behind Mal's head and stroked along his leg. "Okay, your turn. Favorite Discworld quote. And favorite song. And no, you can't steal my answer. Either of them." She stuck her tongue out playfully, then squeaked when Mal leaned over, darted his head in and grabbed it with his lips.

"Okay... Well, you saw my bookcase, so you probably already know I also have all of the Discworld books. The line Cohen says in The Last Hero, 'Someone's got to remember the poor bugger,' that one gets me. I think about people that aren't here anymore... My mom and dad. Kat never got to meet her Grandma Cora or Grandpa Mike. And I'm sure she doesn't recall meeting Gwen's parents — she was only two the last time, and... Anyway. I try and remember them, and I tell Kat about them, so she can still get to know them through me." Mal's voice wavered, and he took a deep breath. "Uh. Quotes. Small Gods, 'Just because you can explain it doesn't mean it's not still a miracle.' I think about that a lot with Kat. Although, I can't explain that. Statistically speaking, I shouldn't be a father right now."

Kirsten made a thoughtful noise, then said, "A million to one chance?"

Mal laughed. "Maybe. Actually, I guess it must have been!"

"Okay, and song?"

Mal chuckled deep in his chest. "Oh, gods above, as much as I'd love to say Detachable Penis or maybe Squeeze Me Macaroni, just to see the look on your face when you hear it, I don't want you to then think one of those is actually my favorite. Or something I'd actually be into. They're just frickin' hi-larious, particularly when I turn back my mental clock to 'high school twit'.

"Uh... Huh. Shoot. I dunno what my favorite song is these days." Mal's brow furrowed. "Blast, all I can think of are the ones that I always hear with Kat. Hmm. Ya know, the song I think I'd really like to hear right now is In Hell I'll Be In Good Company, by The Dead South. I dunno if it's my favorite, cause I think that's a pretty fluctuating set of songs in my brain. Like, part of my brain wants one thing, and another's going, 'No, no, this!', and right now, in addition to In Hell, I'm thinking about A Forest, by the Cure, Mr. Krinkle, by Primus, and Sweet Lady of Waiahole. Damn it. Now I want kulolo."

Mal rapped on the side of his head. "Keep it down in there, brain. Pick one damn song. No, not Mr. Bungle. NO! Fucking purple elephants... Okay, yeah. Kirsten, can you search for 'Dead South'? Yeah, that one."

Kirsten tapped on the indicated song, and the sound of a guitar or bass being plucked filled the room before she adjusted the volume. Whistling started a moment later, in surround for Kirsten, as Mal started to quietly whistle along. Moments later what was undeniably a banjo joined in, along with what sounded like finger snaps.

Kirsten paused the music. "Hold on. I want the video for this." She backed out and selected the video instead, turning her phone sideways. The song restarted from the beginning, and Kirsten watched as a cello player walked along a road, playing and then whistling, until he joined the rest of the band.

Kirsten watched the video, as behind her it was Mal's turn to groove to the music — though in this case, it involved some humming, and finger-snapping in addition to his almost muttered singing.

"Huh. I wouldn't have figured you for a country-music kinda guy, Mal. Not really my cup of tea, banjos kinda Deliverance-weird me out. Is that okay?" Kirsten looked at Mal with a worried expression.

Mal squeezed her again. "Silly. Of course it's okay. And, for the record, I'm NOT a 'country-music guy'. I think they're technically bluegrass, or maybe folk-rock. I mean, I DO really like banjos, and accordions. And if Les Claypool and Weird Al and Jane Espie playing the Highland pipes ever somehow put out an album together... Fuck me. The three instruments of the apocalypse? More like awesome sound unbound!"

Kirsten made a face. "Yeah, that's probably most of the one-point-three, right there, Mal. Point-five for the banjo, and point-seven for the bagpipes. Point-one for whatever else. Accordion is fine though, Weird Al is always incredible." She shuddered.

"Okay, sorry, Mal, I need something else to clear my audio palate — not bagpipes, or banjo, and, apologies, Al, but no accordion either right now. What else is in your head at the mo?"

"Fish On, by Primus. It's a bit of a longer song. Kinda funk jam. Good to listen to when you wanna veg out. Never done LSD, but I kinda feel like some Primus songs might be the auditory equivalent. Especially Over The Electric Grapevine. I mean, that one's about an ACTUAL acid trip. Fucking awesome song. Oh, and cue up Mr. Krinkle right after it."

"I can't imagine that E's going to be that much longer, yeah? It was just one story, right, Mal?"

"Well, knowing my daughter, there was probably some degree of negotiation ahead of time about if the agreement was for one story or if it could include a chapter book, and if she got Evelyn to agree to the latter, Kat will then shift and argue that the story is the entire book." Mal laughed. "I swear, that girl is either practicing for law school, or to work at the UN. So, consider yourself forewarned. I'll have to apologize to Evvy once she's free.

"So we may have a while. Pull them up, then let's lie down on the sofa and cuddle. Girl on top."

Kirsten did as instructed, then sat upright and started to lift her shirt. When Mal began to open his mouth, she cackled and dropped the hem. "Hah! You thought I was gonna get nekkid right here! I mean, yeah, I totes want to, but both E and Gwen told me the rules. No sexy-times in the public areas of the house. But one day, Mal, I promise you, you will bend me over this sofa and fuck me so hard we have to reposition it. And I'll be tongue-deep in Evvy's twat while you're slamming my snatch."

Mal groaned, his already stiff dick becoming even more rigid. Kirsten reached out and stroked him through his jeans.

"Mmmm. That's for me, isn't it? You like the idea of me and E together? You liked it earlier when I suggested maybe me and Gwen might fuck." Kirsten leaned forward, on her hands and knees on the sofa, giving Mal a clear view of her breasts through the neckline of her shirt.

"You want to see your women pleasuring each other? Sucking on each other's tits? When Evvy and I were making out after I sucked your cock, when I shared your cum with her, our tongues twisting together as she came from tasting your seed..." Kirsten shook her torso slightly, causing her breasts inside her shirt to shift. Mal moaned slightly, as the young woman continued. "You liked that, yeah? Tell me, Mal, when you imagine me and Evvy making love, are we facing each other with our tits and pussies pressed together for you to slide between and alternate fucking us — four stacked holes to choose from, or are we 69-ing so you get a tongue and a cunt plus one of our asses? Or, maybe you're lying down, and we're scissoring with your cock between our hot, wet, slippery cunts. Mhmmm..."

The haole woman moved in closer to Mal, breathing heavily. "Yeah. I like scissoring with Evvy. We've been friends for so long, and we fit together really well. We're pretty different people, but when we fuck, when we're tribbing, oh fuck yeah. We connect. Our clits kissing is almost electric. And our clits both rubbing on the same, hard, stiff cock that's gonna fuck both of us naughty faux-lesbians and reinforce for us that we're your loving little bisexual cock-sluts?"

Mal felt like he was having trouble breathing, but it wasn't from the typical crap in his lungs. His chest felt wrapped in steel bands, like he couldn't fully inhale from the tension in his body. "You're staying here tonight, right, Kirsten?"

"Malcolm. My- Yes. I'm staying here. I'm only going home tomorrow to get some clothes and books. Now that I've got you, I'm never living in a different house from my man, ever again." She kissed him, then looked questioningly into his eyes.

Mal surged forward and claimed her lips, his tongue pressing into her mouth. The two of them rose up, Kirsten kneeling on the sofa, Mal standing, his arms wrapping around her as their passionate kiss intensified.

"Studio. Now. Gonna make you writhe, woman."

-=#=-

Glossary:

pad krapao: A very popular Thai dish, properly made with Thai Holy Basil — krapao, or kaphrao. I'm pretty sure that several times, I've had it where it was made with regular Thai basil instead of krapao, but I think that technically would be pad horapha? No clue if that's even a thing. Native English and Pidgin speaker here, y'all.

irraz: Pidgin word meaning annoyed or irritated. (Can also be spelled irras, either spelling is acceptable, although I feel like I rarely see the latter.) Can also be used to describe someone or something. As in "Ho, dat Beckie. She so irraz!" (That Beckie. She's so annoying!) And, just to make things even more fun, I have also heard people use it with the meaning "irrational". The example sentence is identical. As with a lot of communication, context and tone is unbelievably important. (And sometimes, you still gotta surreptitiously ask a third party, "Eh. Is Lani saying Beckie stay 'annoying' or da kine?")

shishi: Pidgin word for urinating. The etymological origin of shishi is a little unclear. Both Japanese and Portuguese are potential contenders for the lending language, as the latter has a xixi, a homophonic- and meaning-identical word, and the former has shito, which means "urine", and shortening and duplication of loanwords isn't uncommon in Pidgin. Both the Portuguese and Japanese were well-represented in the old Hawaiʻi plantation era that Pidgin flourished in, but they were of vastly different social classes — the Portuguese, who were considered "white" by most of the other immigrants (but, notably, not so much by the otherhaole), were frequently the luna, the supervisors on the plantations, whereas the Japanese were actual field workers. (The large quantity of "Portagee jokes" gives one a pretty good idea of how the luna were viewed.) So figuring out the true linguistic origin of a word like shishi is very tricky. If not impossible, since Pidgin's development is considered to have begun in 1835.

moe moe: Pidgin for sleep. In ʻOlelo Hawaiʻi, moemoe means "lie in wait, ambush." Moe or hiamoe is the Hawaiian word for sleeping. Actually, moe in ʻOlelo Hawaiʻi has a LOT of meanings. All of which kind of revolve around lying down (people or objects). And, yes, one of the ways to use moe is in relation to having relations with someone.

Sweet Lady of Waiāhole: Before there was the Waiāhole Poi Factory's ʻono dessert, there was this song, by Bruddah Waltah, the Father of Hawaiian Reggae. Everyone who grew up or lived in Hawaiʻi from the 80s onknows(or at least has heard) this song — it is one of the iconic staples of local music. It tells of an actual woman, (Fujiko Matayoshi, not named in the song, but identified as and known to be her), who would sell fruit (from a wheelbarrow) on the side of Kamehameha Highway in Waiāhole Valley.

Author Note:

Yeah, so again, I'm really sorry about the long delay between chapters. Sometimes life is shit, and late last June, mine kinda fell apart.

Folks, depression affects EVERYONE in a family, not just the depressed person. I hate to sound like a PSA, but seriously, if you or someone you know is in crisis, call 988 if you're in the United States. In Aotearoa, it's 1737, in Australia, I think you can call 131114, Canada is 1 (833) 456-4566, and the UK is 0800-689-5652 (Guys [looking at you, Canucks and Brits], seriously? Can you make them simpler?) A lot of countries have established suicide or crisis hotline numbers; you can search for them online. You can also call your local emergency number, and they can help direct you as well.

Also, if someone is refusing to get help, you can't really force them. (Outside of imminent danger situations, that is.) Sometimes, you have to make a tough decision and remove yourself from the situation, even if that fucks you up in the near term. In some cases, if you're lucky, that can serve as enough of a shock to prompt the other person to seek help, and if you care about them, you will be supportive, and non-judgmental, and loving. Criticizing, dismissing, or ridiculing someone for their mental health struggles isn't going to help, and if you're someone who doesn't believe that mental health issues are a serious thing, well, please don't get involved with another person. You may just hurt the other person, and do more damage to society.

Anyway, my trouble and strife is... not resolved, per se, but back to something approximating normality. Now I just need to steal more time to keep writing!

Mahalo for reading, and a hui hou, my friends.