Mike & Karen Ch. 20

"Aside from creeping on Heyman while she's getting her rocks off," Janet said, sitting down on the edge of Karen's large bed and ignoring the shameless display happening across the room. "we came here to find out more about your upcoming glam shoot, princess."

"We've been over this, Remington, it's not a 'glam' shoot, thank you very much," Karen sighed, rolling her eyes, and turning in her comfy chair to face her friend. "A society magazine has agreed to come and do a story on me, since it is very uncommon- as yet- for women from my social position to be getting into applied sciences. And yes, they'll be taking pictures. To get the story done at all, I had to compromise and allow them to do what amounts to a fashion shoot to put in the magazine."

"And that's not a glam shoot somehow," Janet iterated, smirking.

"The fact that I convinced them to shoot it here at the university and not back at my home is a good start, to be honest," Karen allowed. "I think it's very important that people are exposed to the new reality that women from any strata of our society can-"

"GnnnnnnnoooooooOOOOOHHHHHHHH GAWWWWWD!" Lisa wailed, shaking uncontrollably and cumming hard, soaking her panties shamelessly.

"That's right, you go, girl!" Mona said, egging her on and still taking pictures.

"What were you saying, princess?" Janet asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Oh, shut your dick holster, Remington..." Karen muttered, slumping back in her seat, and shaking her head while she scowled at the wall.

***

The present...

Alexa hadn't spent much time in the main library just yet, but that was because she'd been rather busy of late. She loved libraries and had pictures of herself in some of the oldest and most beautiful ones across Europe. She walked now into the library and looked around in wonder, since the room was a full two levels around an open space with many tables for studying and comfortable chairs and chesterfields for reading.

There was even a fireplace, although she doubted it was ever lit. Still, very pretty.

And this was where she found her family, along with Freja and Jeanie, poring over old textbooks and laughing as they pointed out love notes scrawled in corners, books that had been shared by Mike and Karen back in university.

"Oh!" Karen said in excitement as she found one written on the inside of a back cover, pointing to it. "Remember writing this one, Michael?"

Alex leaned in and began reading. "You are an irreplaceable gash in the fabric of reality; your keening static howl is like no other, and if it faded from the abyss, the void that remains would be unfillable, and the mansions of silence would forever fill with my lament."

Alex looked up at his towering father, a wry expression on his face. "Did you have an emo girl phase in university, dad?"

"It was one of the most meaningful and touching things he ever wrote to me," Karen cooed, tracing her fingers over her husband's bold lettering. "He knows how to touch a girl's heart."

"Hey, I like a good mushy moment as much as anyone," Alexa interjected. "But I've been in the basement, and I have many questions."

Karen sighed and looked up at Mike. "Our fault for giving her keys and a sense of agency."

They both turned to look at her resignedly. "What did you find?"

"Oh, lots of neat things," Alexa said, starting to count off on her fingers. "Squiggly clay cylinders and tablets, Caribbean plunder, some scary dude's metal skull, a naked wooden chick with small tits, enough Baltic amber to start a war..."

She paused and looked at them pointedly. Karen looked up at Mike, and his eyes hardened. "They'll get it back when Putin is ousted, and fair democratic elections come to Russia, and it can be a trust held by the people. Until then, you'll notice it's safe."

"Well, I can't argue that," Alexa sighed, throwing her Millennial indignation out the window. "But... shouldn't like ninety-nine percent of this stuff be turned over to its country of origin?"

"Who, Alli?" Karen asked, smiling gently. She'd expected this conversation for some time now. "Sumerian tablets? The Iraqis can't protect them from extremists right now, can they? And for that matter, they're not even ethnically Sumerian. The gold and silver coins from the Spanish Main? Do we break apart the items to determine chemically what region each gold or silver piece is from and then just give it to the locals?"

"Well, I..." Alexa faltered.

"Who would we give the skull to?" Karen continued. "Beijing would end up with it, no question. It still wouldn't be back with its rightful inheritors."

"We not only hold these things in trust for the Blackwell dynasty, as has been done for generations, but also various institutes," Mike explained. "The Royal Ontario Museum, Kingston, Ottawa, Chicago, even London, Paris and Bologna. If they need pieces for a display, we can provide. Hell, we've even loaned out Thunderhawk on occasion."

"Okay, then there was a sword?" Alexa offered. "Is it safe to give it back to the French?"

"No, the French don't get that sword," Mike laughed. "That is a genuine ancestral heirloom, Alli."

"Y'mean one of my ancestors?" Alexa asked, somewhat surprised. "Something in the vault I shouldn't be trying to feel guilty about?"

"Michael, where is that book?" Karen mused, looking around. Mike walked over to a wall and scanned one of the shelves, running his finger along the spines of books and talking to himself. Meanwhile, Alex brought Alexa over to another table and then brought out a heavy, ancient tome contained in a case, putting it down gingerly on the polished wood surface. He put on a pair of thin, transparent gloves.

"Oh, wow," Alexa murmured as Alex opened the case and displayed the leather cover of the book. "Is that a copy of the Domesday Book?"

"Yep," Alex said, grinning. "Grandpa gave it to me for my graduation before going into high school. It's nowhere near as old as the original, but it's probably seventeenth century. He said I was one of maybe three people he knew that would appreciate it. The very first references to anyone named Blackwell are found in here, y'know."

"I've seen the originals at the National Archives in Kew," Alexa said quietly, tracing a finger over the cover. "When mom and I would sneak into London. But I've never touched one before. You can read the Old English, right, Alex?"

Her husband nodded.

"Then one day, I want to sit down in here and just listen to you read things to me, and then tell me what they're talking about," she said, squeezing his hand. "I really want to hear your do that."

"As milady wishes," Alex said cheerfully, making his mother smile warmly and give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She loved how good-natured her son was, Alex was such a DeBourne. It made her proud.

"Found it," Mike announced, pulling another old book off a shelf and holding it firmly but gently. "C'mon, let's go sit on the comfortable stuff, there's a lot to look over here."

The group made its way over to a small circle of plush chairs, and a chesterfield. Karen took the book and sat in the middle while Alex and Alexa sat on either side of her. Mike eased down into a large, plush chair nearby, while Freja and Jeanie sat on a loveseat together. Karen stroked her hand over the old leather cover gently.

"It goes back to the late sixteenth century," she almost cooed as she gingerly opened the front cover. "So preserving it has been an ongoing endeavour."

She took some thin, transparent gloves from Mike and put them on before turning any pages. "It is one of several books that record the ancestry of the Blackwell family. This one in particular deals with connubial bonds on the continent."

Alexa smirked. "I'm surprised a Blackwell ever deigned to marry anyone who wasn't English, from the sounds of us."

"Which is why our mother's name was Gordon," Karen said blithely, making Alexa giggle and stick out her tongue. "But yes, there were many times we married across la Manche."

"Wow, even to the French?" Alexa queried. After all, apparently a French blade was involved.

"Silly," Karen said as she leafed through the yellowed, often brittle pages. "Here we are..."

Alexa leaned in to look while Alex just smiled. He'd been through this book before.

"This is the owner of the blade," Karen explained, and Alexa's eyes went wide with wonder as she looked at an illustration on a page. "She was a French aristocrat who served as one of the court ladies for Anne of Austria in early decades of the 1600s. But more than that, she was an agent of Anne, renowned for her prowess in espionage, the courtroom, with a blade, and in the bedroom."

"Lady Alexandra d'Assaut," Alexa breathed, stunned by the image. The woman was classically beautiful, with a magnificent figure in a court dress, and she had long golden tresses and sea-blue eyes. "She looks just like me. Is she our ancestor?"

"Probably not directly, since there are no records of her marrying and having children," Karen replied. "But her older brother seems to have married a Blackwell in 1636, and they had children. Assuming that she and her older brother looked alike..."

"And we have the same name," Alexa said, starting to get excited. "Awesome! A deadly female agent of Anne of Austria, going on daring adventures in her queen's name!"

She looked across Karen at her husband. "Alex, you totally need to start writing stories about her for me! Her adventures, her intrigues, her lovers..."

"Like I'm not busy enough with my writing!" he laughed. "I can put it on the list."

"Nooooo," Alexa whined, getting off the couch and coming to kneel in front of him, taking his arm and holding it in place while she rubbed her large breasts on it. "You need to do it nowwwwwwwww..."

Alex sighed. "I suppose I can push back that Star Blazers story I was working on."

"You do and I'll mop the floor with you," Mike warned, giving his son a stern look.

"And you promised Fre'n me you'd work on that fantasy story where we are part of a sultan's sexy lesbian harem," Jeanie pointed out.

"Ja, do not make me put the hurt on you," said the Danish girl, smirking.

"Mom," Alex said, leaning on his mother's shoulder and looking up at her with pleading eyes. "They're bullying me. Make 'em stop, please? All of 'em? You know you were always my favourite."

"Now all of you, leave my good little boy alone," Karen announced firmly, wagging a finger in everyone's direction. "Don't make life so difficult for him."

Before Alex could say anything else, Karen unbuttoned her blouse and made to fish out her breast. "Here, darling, are you hungry?"

"Oh, jeeeeeeez!" Alex yelped as he sprang up and hurried away from the gathering, while everyone else wheezed with laughter.

Even Karen couldn't avoid giggling behind her fingers.

***

St. George Campus, March 1987...

Karen walked down the hallway, frowning as she followed the music. She had her textbooks pressed to her chest and her pleated skirt swirled around her thighs from the steady pace she kept. Someone was playing 'Giant Steps' on a piano, and she wanted to know who.

She wasn't the least bit surprised when she looked around the corner into one of the music rooms and saw a huge, familiar form in front of the upright piano.

Despite how intently he was playing, Mike paused and turned his head to look at her. "What? Did you sense of proletarian having fun?"

Karen made a wry face at the jibe, but otherwise ignored it. She came into the room, still holding her books to herself. "Why on earth do you know how to do Coltrane changes? Those scare actual jazz musicians."

He shrugged. "Thought they might be important to know, so I learned them from an old book."

"I was taught Coltrane changes," she said, still looking at him, her expression somewhere between curiosity and disbelief. "You managed to teach them to yourself?"

"Yours are no doubt better than mine, Gordon."

"Cleaner, maybe, or more technically precise, but not better, no," she said, shaking her head. "Yours are... genuine in expression, and devoid of artifice."

"That a polite way of saying 'talented amateur'?" he laughed.

"No, no, play it again," she insisted, coming closer and then looking at the sheet music. "Play this part here..."

Mike shrugged and did as she asked, playing through the measures indicated while she listened. It was quite enthralling for her.

"Okay, now listen when I do it," she said, shooing him off the old, stout bench. It creaked in protest as he shifted away, but then Karen sat down and centered herself in front of the piano. She had no idea how this would sound, since she happened to know this old beater of an instrument was rather out of tune.

And yet DeBourne had sounded fantastic. How? What deep and intrinsic relationship with music did one have to have to make that possible?

Using the same pages he had, she played the exact same measures while he listened intently. It was the same music, of course, but he couldn't believe how exquisite and perfect every note sounded when she liberated them from the keys. Her fingers fluttered effortlessly across the ivories, her bewitching golden-amber eyes focused like a laser on the sheets in front of her. There was no need to look down at her hand positioning, she was always naturally in the right place, like it was second nature to her.

It was like she was giving the music wings.

She finished playing and looked at him, secretly delighted to see the awe in his eyes. She simply nodded. "Do you see what I mean? There may indeed by a zephyr-like elegance to my style, but there is a raw and primal honesty to yours, DeBourne. And I am in envy of it."

"I dunno what to tell you," he said. "I just do what I do. I expect the music to obey me."

"What it is you do, I want to be able to do it," Karen said intently. "I want to be able to do everything with any instrument I play, and I need to be able to imitate you. It may only be imitation, but no one else needs to know that."

"I suppose you're welcome to listen to me play, or watch me do it, because you're already more technically more proficient than me, so I can't teach you anything," Mike said. "And I'm in awe of your effortless dexterity."

"The same as you told me, watch, and I'm certain you'll have it no time," she replied. "Now that I've solved this mystery, please excuse me, I'm headed elsewhere."

"Hot date?" Mike asked, smirking.

Karen looked slightly confused. "No. Why?"

"Gordon, that schoolgirl skirt is bordering on scandalous," Mike laughed. "Every guy you pass on campus could very well faint from blood loss to the brain as you walk by. How can you not know that?"

"I don't recall saying I was unaware of the effects my current aesthetic has on members of the opposite sex," she pointed out. "Or my own, for that matter. All I said was I don't have a hot date, to borrow your term."

"That's somebody's loss out there, then," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Gordon, you're too formidable for everyone else's good. Go easy on them."

"Duly noted," she said, nodding as she stood. Mike had gathered her books up and handed them to her. "I'll no doubt see you around, but I'm rather busy the next few days."

"Your society girl fashion shoot," Mike mused, nodding as he towered over her. He was pleased that their disparity in height no longer seemed to bother her. "Yeah, everyone's talking about it and hoping to get a peek."

"Splendid," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Like this won't be annoying enough as it is. They agreed to talk about modern women in science, but I have the distinct feeling that is likely to be glossed over."

"Stick to your guns and make them do it right, Gordon," Mike said firmly. "If you can't make them, then no one can. It's too good an opportunity. Nail it."

She looked up at her fellow student and nodded slowly. She was happy to be holding her books to her chest again, or else she'd be worried that he could see her heart pounding. He didn't mean for it to be an order, but she wanted to take it as one.

"As you say," she agreed. "Until later, then."

She turned and walked out of the room. Mike watched her leave, unable to tear his eyes away from her, and the way she moved in that skirt. He just stared at the doorway for several seconds after she left before blinking and shaking his head, coming back to himself.

What had he been doing in here?

Dammit...

***

The present...

"If I may interrupt," Tatyana said politely, her hands folded in front of her and nodding slightly as she addressed her employers. "The young mistress has some visitors."

"Eeeee!" Alexa squeaked excitedly as she leapt to her feet from the chaise she'd been in. Alex, Mike, and Karen looked at her curiously. "They're here! BRB!"

"Now what could that be about?" Karen mused, Alexa having already hurried out of the room. Tatyana had already left to do something else, so she decided she'd just wait.

"Normally only me being naked gets her that excited," Alex replied. "I don't know whether to be pleased for her or offended."

"Alex, behave," his mother chided. "Don't talk that way about my baby sister."

They were sitting in one of the small annex rooms and had been discussing its décor when Tatyana had made her announcement. They didn't have to wait long before they heard excited chattering and saw Alexa walking in, leading a small group with her.

"Well now, it's good to see you all again," Mike said genially, standing up, as did Alex. "Welcome to our abode."

"Alexa, I can't believe you live here!" gushed Kira, the keyboardist for Alexa's band, the Replicants. She was looking around in wide-eyed awe.

"Well, it's not like I did anything to earn it," Alexa said, blushing slightly. It still felt awkward admitting it to people. "Just belonged to the right family, I guess."

"Hey, we're all just jelly, babe," said Aarie, petting Alexa's arm. She was Chinese and played rhythm guitar. "This place is off the hook, and that foyer is bigger than my whole apartment."

"You're not the first visitor to say that," Alex laughed. "Now that I know who's here, I'm pretty sure I know what Alexa's up to."

"Hey, it's our fave future roadie!" Carlotta giggled, giving Alex a hug. "You're eighteen now, right? Can't exploit child labour, after all."

"Yeah, Charli, she married her underage nephew, just to exploit child labour," Alex replied, hugging her back. Predictably, Kira was already hello-hugging Mike and Karen. It was no secret that she'd developed a crush on them both and had already slept with them.

"When Alexa told us to meet her out here, we were kinda confused," Samantha said. She played drums and percussion for the group. "Kira picked us all up and-"

"Oh, God, you all came in the Mystery Machine?" Alexa exclaimed, trying to not laugh. "Well, maybe that's not a bad thing, since I wanted to run some things by you."

She turned and looked at Alex, holding out her hand. "C'mon, roadie. I might need your help."

Alex shrugged and took his aunt-wife's hand and they left the room, followed by Alexa's bandmates and then Mike and Karen, who were curious as to what she was up to. She led them all toward the back of the manor, and then toward the stairs heading down to the basements.

"This place is freaking gigantic," Dany said, looking around at the long halls and seemingly endless rooms. "How old is it?"

"It predates the First World War by a few years, it's Edwardian," Karen replied, walking hand-in-hand with Michael. "And I've been told it cost a few million back then, so Heaven only knows what it would be worth today. I've never dared ask, I would probably faint."

"Is that a jacuzzi in a solarium?" Kira mused. "Yum yum!"