The Best Medicine Ch. 03

This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere.

The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between these characters and events and any real person or events is strictly coincidental . . . and pretty darn impressive seeing as it is a science fiction story. Do not reproduce or copy this story without the consent of the author.

In my magical, mixed-up world, characters don't worry about STDs or unwanted pregnancies except occasionally as a plot device. The author encourages the practice of safe (and hopefully satisfying) sex.

While this is a science-fiction story, it may at different points contain sexual behavior that might fall into other categories. You can rest assured however that there will be NO depictions of Non-Consent, Mind Control, or Incest for any purpose other than as plot devices, and certainly not for sexual arousal. Anything else is fair game.

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Princess Vanesse Bellethial really had no idea what to do. Her life had gone from mind-numbingly dull to "what the hell was that?" in the course of a few days. She and her bodyguard had been planning on running away from her Alaskan compound to try and unravel the secrets of the world, but Vanesse had realized that Trina had secrets of her own. The King had secrets. Everyone had them. And Vanesse was finding the learning curve to be a bitch.

She was a necromancer who had no notion of the healing arts until after she had been kidnapped by a beautiful werehyena she-male and her motorcycle gang. The pack leader, a woman named Farmer, had absolutely turned the elf Princess's world on its ear, playing it straight with her and opening her eyes to a great many truths. Then her bodyguard had gotten into a knock-down drag-out fight with the werehyena leader, during which goblin assassins, gunning for Vanesse, had almost killed her best friend instead.

Since then, she had talked to a real necromancer and discovered how her powers were supposed to work, only to find that it was sex that fueled their day to day usage. Farmer was more than happy to step in and provide the bone-weakening, mind-numbing sex that gave Vanesse the energy to save her injured friend. Vanesse had then broken the hold that her uncle, the King, had put on Trina to prevent her from telling the truth.

Then, Trina had kissed her. Not a peck on the cheek, not even a grazing kiss of gratitude, but rather a share-your-soul, all-encompassing lip-to-lip extravaganza. Then Trina had passed out, and Vanesse had been left with far more questions than answers.

Since then, she and Trina had barely spoken. Upon waking, Trina had muttered a half-hearted apology and said that she had simply been overwhelmed. Wanting to press the issue but not knowing how, Vanesse had let it drop. Now she and the battle-dancer sat on opposite sides of a long bench, not speaking.

"Well, this is a bundle of laughs," Farmer said, staring at one and then the other of her elf captives. "What are you going to do for an encore? Nap?"

Vanesse blushed, and Trina just glared.

"I truly missed your rapier-like wit," the battle-dancer said. "It's what makes life worth living."

Farmer grinned. "When I say that, no one believes me."

"Go figure."

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Vanesse could not help but smile a little. This was the Trina she was familiar with.

"Well, we need to figure out what the next move is. Things have gotten complicated," Farmer added.

Trina let out an indelicate snort. "What clued you in?"

"You're kinda lippy for someone who's ass just recently got saved by me."

"Saved? I was busy smacking you around when someone shot me."

"Smacking me . . . Oh, now you've gone and --"

"Oh would you two put a sock in it?" Vanesse interjected, though her smile was getting wider. "What's next? Pistols at twenty paces?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to hit someone with a flintlock at forty paces?" Farmer said with exasperation. "Jack and I missed each other three times out of four, and we're both pretty good shots."

"Three out of four? You shot each other?"

Farmed nodded. "We were bored."

"How many times did you shoot each other?" Vanesse asked.

Farmer looked at Jack. "What was it?"

"You got me three times, I got you twice."

Vanesse's jaw had dropped. "You just stood there and shot each other? Multiple times?"

Jack pointed his thumb at Farmer. "She was bored, and we heal quickly."

Trina had taken Vanesse's entrance into the conversation as an excuse to wander off unnoticed. All this talk of being shot was making her uncomfortable.

"Hey, wait up," came a voice from behind her.

She sighed. So much for "unnoticed." Trina rolled her eyes as Jack trotted up next to her. "What?" she asked, already snippy.

"Hey, don't be like that," Jack said jovially. "Hey, I realize that you're still a bit under the weather --"

"The ground is 'under the weather.' I feel like hell."

"-- and all," Jack continued unabated, "but I was wondering if you might want to show me some moves?" Jack took a martial arts stance to emphasize his point.

"I'll show you one move," Trina said calmly. "This is called 'Feminus Exodus.' You'll like it." She proceeded to walk away. She stopped after fifteen feet and glanced out of the corner of her eye. Sure enough, Jack was standing right there.

"While I love watching your ass while you walk, I was sort of hoping you would show me some martial arts. I try and incorporate styles whenever I can, and being able to learn something from a battle-dancer would be sweet."

"Didn't I explain this to you already? It's not that simple. I could make you a color graph to explain it if you like," Trina said, wondering what it was going to take to shake this guy.

"I get that battle-dancing itself is way too big, but you still have basics. How you hit, how you kick, combos . . . stuff like that. The way you flow --"

"Right now, I flow like sewage," she said, trying to get back into her stoic face. "I'm a captive here, remember? I'm not your mommy and I'm not your sensei. I have no reason, incentive, or inclination to do anything but deride you constantly."

Jack stared at her for a second. "Anyway, I noticed that you used these cool double-knee strikes a lot when you were fighting Farmer, so I figured those would be a good --"

Trina put a finger across Jack's lips and said, "Shush!" She waited, relishing the brief silence. As soon as she moved her finger however --

"-- would be a good place to start. I'm --" Jack stopped when Trina covered his mouth with her hand again.

"Be . . . quiet," she said sternly. She waited three seconds, lifted her hand, and then --

"-- pretty good with my legs, but I'm always worried about --"

Trina covered Jack's mouth with one hand and grasped the back of his neck with the other, her eyes glancing around for a roll of duct tape.

"Hey, would you stop harassing my second in command?" Farmer asked, wandering over. Even Vanesse came over, looking on with some amusement.

"That's the pot calling the new-fallen snow black," Trina replied. "Seriously, don't you ever pay attention to him? Play with him? Take him for walks, maybe? Because he's hyper and he's annoying the snot out of me."

"Jack, I need to talk with Trina for a bit," she said, her tone indicating that she was talking to a small child. "Go make sure that we've got enough food for tonight. If not, arrange a hunt."

"It's a blizzard outside," Jack almost whined. "Can't Alani do it?" When Farmer cocked an eyebrow at him, he walked down the hall, muttering about the injustice of it all.

"Okay, that should distract him for a few minutes," Farmer said good naturedly "But when he comes back, you might just want to humor him. Or show him something shiny. He's taken quite a liking to you."

"He needs a new hobby. You wanted to talk?"

"C'mon," she said. "Need to get your tactical appraisal on something."

Trina breathed a sigh of relief. That was something she could handle. "My guess is the Baron Glennon Montain for being behind the attack. He's so conservative that he makes the King look progressive, and he was about as big an opponent of Vanesse's parents as you can be."

"Wasn't he a possible candidate for groom?"

"In his own mind. Vanesse wouldn't touch him with a thirteen foot pole."

"Don't you mean a ten foot pole?"

"I've been out of it for a while. I was adjusting for inflation."

Farmer could not help but give another shit-eating grin. The girl could think on her feet. She wondered how she would do on her back. "Right. Question, do you believe me when I say that I never had any intention of harming you or the Princess?"

"Of course," Trina said absently.

Farmer cocked her head. "Really? You weren't even a little threatened by me?"

"I was concerned," the elf replied. "Remember the garage?"

"Yeah."

"You used tranquilizers on everyone. Not just the Princess, but everyone. You didn't even have real guns in hand, though I know you were carrying. That says you're under order to avoid injuring anyone, and you didn't kill the witnesses. If the goal was just to get Vanesse and get out for nefarious purposes, you wouldn't have taken such care with the others."

"Not bad," Farmer said approvingly. "I think you and I know the score. Vanesse's grandfather wants to talk to her, she doesn't want to talk to him, someone's put a bounty on that pretty head of hers, and we have no idea whom we can trust. That sum it up?"

"Yep."

Farmer looked serious for a moment, or at least as serious as she could look. "Okay, I want to release you from your Word to me."

Trina's bottom jaw hit her chest with a thud. "Huh?"

"I need to make sure that she gets where she's going alive regardless of where that is. If we get embroiled in a fight and the best way to ensure her survival is for the two of you to run like hell, then that's what you do. I don't want your Word holding you back."

"Uhm . . . thanks?"

"Not that I expect you to go running off into the Canadian wilderness in the middle of a snowstorm. Can I expect that you'll continue to cooperate? You coming with us to Atlanta willingly could make our lives so much easier."

"I guess I need to talk to Vanesse about that. She's the one in charge."

"You're probably right," Farmer said, putting a hand on Trina's shoulder before they walked back towards the common area. "And you do need to talk to her."

"I just said --"

"Not about the plan. About what happened."

Trina felt flush under her skin, but she fought to control her expression. "I already explained that."

"No, you covered your ass. So tell me, just how in love with her are you?"

If Trina could shoot daggers with her eyes as Jack believed, Farmer would have been pinned to a wall. And like with Vanesse, the werehyena could tell that the lack of response was all the answer she needed.

Farmer sighed. "Babe, let's put it all on the table. Your friend is smokin' hot, and I had fun with her. I've never seen anyone need what I can give her like she does. If she's at all interested in more of this --"

"Do you remember that you released me from my Word?" Trina whispered, her voice full of razors and fire. "I can hurt you now if I want to."

"You can try," Farmer replied coolly. "Fact is, I like her. I enjoyed making her feel alive, and she enjoyed feeling it. And the first damn thing she did afterward was go and save YOUR life. Seriously, you were hoping she would discover the truth about her necromancy and healing powers, and . . . what? She would be a nun for the rest of her life, and you could go on secretly pining for her?"

Trina grabbed the werehyena by the neck and shoved her against a wall. "You don't know a damn thing about how I feel," she snarled.

"And I'll bet that neither does she," Farmer said, her voice as calm as Trina usually kept hers. She had been baiting the battle-dancer. "Don't be mad at me for being attracted to her. She's beautiful, she's feisty, she's smart, and that's more than most people can hope to find in a partner, whether for life or the night or just a few minutes in an old supply closet. Hell, she's going to need --"

"I know damn well what she's going to need," Trina said, letting go and walking away, more than a bit despondent. 'And I know what she won't need,' she thought.

"So are we gonna have a problem?" Farmer asked.

Trina gritted her teeth before answering with, "If neither force nor deceit is used, then I have no control over what the Princess does with her time, or whom she does it with."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"Tough, because it's all the answer you're getting."

Vanesse saw Trina return from wherever she had gone, and it did not take a super genius to realize that she was not happy. And the look on Farmer's face made the Princess wonder what was going on.

"What were you two talking about?" Vanesse asked as her best friend sat down next to her.

"Jack was attempting to hump my leg, so I got her to swat him with a newspaper. Oh, and she released me from my Word, so we're free to go. Or at least, I can make as much trouble as I want."

Vanesse was floored. "What? She did? Why?"

Trina gave her a run down of Farmer's reasoning, glad for something to talk about besides . . . well, besides what she was avoiding talking about. "But I think we should stay with them. Strangely, our kidnappers seem to have less interest in hurting us than everyone else. How often does that happen?"

"I don't know," Vanesse replied. "This is my first time being kidnapped. Hopefully, it won't always be this dangerous."

"Why don't we just avoid it in the future?" Trina asked with complete seriousness. "Once you get a royal secretary, we'll make sure he or she doesn't book any abductions."

"I thought you were my secretary?"

"You know I can't type."

Vanesse grinned a little. This was what conversations with Trina were supposed to be like. She leaned over and nudged her friend with her shoulder. Trina responded by leaning in and knocking Vanesse off of the bench.

"Hey! Aren't you supposed to protect me from stuff like this?"

"You could stand to have a little toughening."

Vanesse sat up. "Actually, you're right. Maybe we should pick up my self-defense lessons again."

"Princess, it is my job to keep you safe. I don't want you getting into any fights."

"I'm not talking about picking fights. But I'm not always going to have a choice."

Trina nodded. "I guess. You fight like a sissy girl."

"Hey!" came the reply.

"I'm just saying that I would be more worried about a fluffy kitten gouging my eyes out." She resisted a smile as Vanesse petulantly shoved at her. She took her friend aside and began to go over the basics. Despite her earlier comments, Vanesse was relatively well versed for nobility in the martial arts. Trina had made sure that the Princess was not as defenseless as she appeared. She reinforced the basics, namely eye gouging, punching to the throat, stepping on feet, and --

"Why don't you teach her the good stuff?" Jack said from out of nowhere.

"Do you not have anything else to do?" Trina said, turning around to fine the muscular man sitting nearby. "And how do you keep finding me?"

"Small building. And by smell. You smell really nice. Kind of --"

"Shut up! Good grief," Trina muttered.

"Listen, would it really hurt for you to show him a few moves? It's not like the battle-dancers are sworn to secrecy or anything," Vanesse said, suppressing a grin when Trina glared at her.

"See? Even the hottie Princess wants you to show me stuff."

"Thanks," Vanesse said. "I think."

Trina gritted her teeth. "If I show you some stuff, will you promise to leave me alone?"

"For how long?" Jack replied.

"Forever."

"No way! You're way too interesting."

"How about a year?"

"Nope."

"A month?"

"You know that we're only going to be near each other for a week or so."

"Then a week?"

Jack just gave Trina "the look."

"A day? Twelve hours?"

"Four hours."

"Four?! You've got to be --"

"Four . . . hours," Jack said firmly.

"I hate you. So very, very much."

Jack just grinned and took off his shirt. The extensive tattooing on his arms apparently extended across his broad, smooth, muscular chest, ending in a tight circle around his neck. It also looked like it went down into his pants --

Trina shook her head for a second, partially in irritation but partially in disgust with herself. Jack was damn attractive, but he was also annoying. And distracting.

"Okay," she said, letting her irritation show in her voice, "the first principle of my fighting style is flow. Even without the music, the idea is to know what moves most easily flow from the last one. For a battle-dancer, there is no stopping and resetting."

"See, now this is what I'm talkin' 'bout!" Jack said, his eyes alight. He began to bounce slightly on his toes.

"And stop the bouncing. It wastes energy, and looks really goofy." Trina watched as Jack immediately stopped the bouncing, but remained loose and on his toes. 'Well, at least he's serious about listening to me,' she thought with grudging respect. "So show me what you got, and I'll help you link it."

For almost two hours, Trina worked with the werehyena, and she picked up a couple of more stragglers as she went. Apparently, Jack was not the only werehyena who was interested in improving his fighting style. A dozen of Jack's brethren were following along, each contributing moves of their own to the martial mix. Much to her chagrin, Trina realized that she was learning stuff too. She had never been a teacher before, except for her work with Vanesse, and she found it all rather rewarding.

"Can I have my troops back?" Farmer said, making an appearance. She was smiling though. Trina looked pretty happy. The werehyena looked over and saw Vanesse watching as well, and she had a quirky smile on her face.

"Please," Trina said, wiping sweat from her brow, "take them away. And remember, I get four hours of peace," she said, her gaze scanning the small crowd and settling on Jack. He just smirked in reply, zipped his lips, and walked out of the room.

"Okay, let's get some dinner cooked and set up watch," Farmer said. "Looks like we'll be here a couple of days, so bring all the vehicles in that we can find space for. Garage looks pretty much empty, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"Hey," one burly man said, "you know if we've got some spare time --"

"-- and seeing as we've been really good boys and girls --" started another.

"Okay, okay!" Farmer laughed. "Tomorrow, we'll have a tournament."

"What kind of tournament?" Vanesse asked.

"You'll just have to wait and see," the werehyena smirked. "Now if you'll excuse me," she added with an extravagant bow, I have a few arrangements to make before we settle in for the night." She gave Vanesse a wink, then slipped through a door.

Vanesse was blushing. 'Does she really think that I'm going to --' Her mind paused, then Vanesse glanced around for Trina, who was toweling off some sweat from her brow, her tones arms, her ripped abdomen --. 'What the hell was that about?' she thought, shaking her head.

Trina noticed that she was being watched. Vanesse had a little half-smile playing across her face and briefly chewed on her bottom lip. 'She doesn't even know how amazing she looks,' the battle-dancer thought.

"Trina, could I talk to you for a minute?"

The battle-dancer's skin chilled a few degrees. 'Please don't ask about the kiss,' she thought. 'Please.' "Sure. Uhm, would it be okay if I got cleaned up a little first?"

"I'll go with you. We can talk while you change."

"I'm just going to wash up a bit. You really don't need --"