Run Ch 04

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

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The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.

This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex.

This is part of an ongoing series. Please check out earlier part(s) for background and character history.

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"Okay boys. This is all you're getting so you've got to make it . . ." Gail was saying until Todd grabbed the money out of her hand before he and Buddy tore off down the mall to the video arcade. "Boys will be boys," she said, checking out her boyfriend's butt before it vanished into blinking-light-and-pinging-noise hell. She turned and saw that Pat had scooted in the direction the boys had taken off to.

"I really should keep an eye on Buddy," she said.

"Todd is quite capable of looking after your brother, and Buddy's no fool anyway. If there's a problem, they can call us but there WON'T BE A PROBLEM! You're not getting out of this," she added, tapping her foot and crossing her arms. "You were the one who called me, remember?"

"Yeah," Pat said, then grumbled, "but I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition." She dodged out of the way as a red-shirted security guy ran buy, waving a purse that some lady had forgotten.

"What was that?" Gail asked.

"Nothing," Pat muttered. "Listen, I can't do this. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not even sure why I agreed to go on this . . . this . . ."

"Date?" Gail prompted, somewhat amused. This was a formidable young woman, but she was a nervous wreck about a simple movie date.

"Yeah . . . that."

"Well, do you like him?"

Pat scuffed her toe on the ground. "Yeah."

"Then you're gonna have to get your groove on!"

Pat stared at her friend.

"It means you've got break out of your isolationist rut and be . . . well, be a girl." Gail looked around. "Cool. Old Navy."

"If Mr. Baker sees me wearing something with the word 'Navy' on it, he'll probably lose his mind." Pat looked at her shoes. When her face came up, it was filled with resolve. "Works for me."

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Two hours later . . .

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Gail had dropped about twenty bucks to the boys to keep their video games playing rolling, but she had FINALLY actually gotten Pat to pick out a few things and Gail had to admit they fit the girl's personality. Pat wasn't flashy or sexy . . . well, she was sexy, but that sort of thing could wait. She had some snug yet sensibly comfortable denim jeans and a couple pairs of shorts, plus some generic but trendy tee-shirts. Pat had found clothes she could comfortably fight in if need be, which caused Gail to roll her eyes. But what really caught Gail's attention were the tank-tops.

She had gotten a bunch in camouflage (winter, forest, neon blue) patterns, and they all fit snugly. Pat didn't have an overly large bust, but she had enough to catch some attention. But it was the musculature of the woman that amazed Gail! Pat's physique was . . . dare she say it . . . flawless? She had perfect definition in her shoulders, arms and neck. It wasn't that she was bulky, but rather seemed to be cut out of marble. Gail had already admired Pat's legs, but it turned out those legs were only the beginning. Pat wasn't dressing to be fashionable. She was just trying to dress like . . . well, Pat. Except more comfortably.

"So, got any money left?" Gail asked. She had offered to chip in, but Pat wouldn't hear of it.

"Some. Not much though."

"Any chance you've got one of your dad's credit cards?"

Pat shook her head. "No. If I need anything past my basic expenses . . . sorry, I mean my allowance, then I have to requisition it.

Gail started to chuckle, then slowly she stopped. "Wait, you're serious?!"

"He still has carbon-copy versions of the forms." Pat was actually blushing with embarrassment.

Gail's mouth hung open. Pat's Uncle Lyle hadn't been kidding! Pat's father wasn't raising a daughter . . . he was training a soldier! No wonder Pat was so messed up.

"Well, we just need shoes and under-stuff, so . . ."

"Wait . . . under-stuff?"

"Yeah. Panties, bras, etc."

"Why would I need that? He's not . . . I mean Keith isn't expecting . . ."

Gail tried not to laugh. "Keith's not stupid enough to do anything like that. He's not like that. But lingerie isn't just for the guy. Sometimes it helps the girl feel a little sexier . . . more confident. C'mon, I've got an idea you might actually like. Please? Have I steered you wrong yet?"

"I guess not," Pat said.

Gail led her reluctant friend into Victoria's Secret. Pat felt as out of place as a bull at a tea party. There were things around that were silky or lacey or frilly. She was none of those things.

"You'll probably want one of the girls to fit you for the bra. Or you could go with a sports bra. They're pretty comfortable and work pretty well for an athletic bod. Yours qualifies."

"I guess I'll try one of those."

"Check out that pile of stuff and I'll see if they've got what I'm looking for."

Pat, despite some people misconceptions, really wasn't ashamed of her body. She worked hard on it. She just never really understood the point of dressing any way but practically. After all, how does a cashmere sweater help you disassemble a fully automatic weapon and clean it? It was at that moment that Pat realized something.

"Why on earth is a girl in high school cleaning an automatic weapon anyway?"

"I'm not even going to ask what that means," a young girl next to her said. "Can I help you find something?"

"She wants sports bras or something else comfortable!" came a voice from across the store.

"I can speak for myself!" Pat shouted back. "Uhm . . ."

"Sports bras or something else comfortable?" the girl asked with an endearing smile.

"Yeah. That."

The girl, whose name was listed as "Janine" on her nametag, showed her a number of practical but still mildly fashionable bras. Then she took Pat to a fitting area.

Gail wandered back that way after grabbing a number of items. She arrived just in time to see Pat with nothing on over her top but a measuring tape. 'Look at those abs!' she thought. 'It's just not fair!' She tossed Pat some underthings. Pat stared at her.

"Where's the rest of them?" she asked, stretching out the fabric.

"That's all there is to them," Gail said. "Now put 'em on. And yes, I'm sticking around to make sure you actually try them on." Gail stared impatiently at Pat and tapped on her watch. "C'mon! Let's do this thing!"

The salesgirl chuckled. "I'll be back in a moment. Some of these will be a little snug on the ribs. I'll grab new ones," she added, grabbing up the non-sports-bras and wandering out.

Suddenly, Pat felt more than a little self-conscious. "Do you really . . ."

"Yes, I really need to be here. Besides, it's not like you've got something I haven't seen before," she added. It turned out, she was wrong. For one brief moment, she saw Pat in the buff. It was a sight to behold.

"What?" Pat asked, pulling up a pair of boy-shorts. "I look like a freak don't I?" she added, looking for something to cover up with.

"That's not the impression I got. Damn girl. People have killed for worse bodies than yours. I think Troy was sacked by the Romans because that one broad had a body like yours."

"The Greeks."

"Hunh?"

"Troy was supposedly sacked by the Greeks, not the Romans. And it was the face of Helen of Troy that launched a thousand ships . . . not her body."

"Shut up," Gail said. She hated being corrected, even when she was wrong.

Pat turned around and felt . . . pride? It was new to her, whatever it was. 'I really DO have kind of a nice butt,' she thought. The boy-shorts exposed quite a bit of butt, but weren't as overly slutty as some of the things she had seen. She noticed some stray pubic hair poking through and she turned away from her friend. 'That just looks gross,' she thought. She had never thought of grooming "down there" before, but maybe . . .

Gail was breathing a little hard herself. It was more difficult than it should have been to tear her eyes away from Pat's backside. "Okay, how can I get an ass that looks like that?"

Pat was changing back into her normal clothes. "Just give up your life." She shook her head. "Sorry. I don't know why I said that."

'Yes you do,' Gail thought.

Pat picked up a few pairs of the boy-shorts and a few new bras. That afternoon, she had spent more money on clothes than she had in . . . well, ever. The salesgirl was ringing her up when the girls had an unexpected encounter.

"Oh this is precious!" came a voice from near a panty bin. It was a voice quite familiar to Pat. She turned around and saw Dr. Martin.

"Hey, isn't that . . ." Gail started to say. Then they saw Lola appear from behind a rack of nighties.

"Only you would think sumphin' like that was comfortable," the Latina said.

"What? It's not like they stay on for . . ." Carolyn had just noticed the two high-school girls standing there.

'Oh shit!' the redhead thought. She and Lola usually shopped at this mall because it wasn't near to their high school JUST to avoid situations like this.

"Hey Lola," Gail said, obviously confused. "Fancy running into . . . you . . . here."

"Yeah," Lola said. "Weird."

If Lola had just said something else, Gail might have thought the two women were just friends. But the awkward silence painted a different picture.

Pat was trying to think of something to say to give Carolyn and Lola a way out. They had both done so much to help her and encourage her.

Gail's eyes shot open wide and she was grinning. "No way!? You two . . . Lola, you dog you!"

Lola grinned. Carolyn breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey chica," Lola replied. "Maybe we should all talk?"

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An hour later . . .

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Todd and Buddy had rejoined their female counterparts and all had sat down at the food court, sipping sodas while Gail tried to convince Pat to eat a corndog, JUST so she will have consumed something unhealthy that day.

"So you're all good?" Lola asked. She and Carolyn had given the quick-and-not-so-dirty version of their relationship to the younger members of their dinner group, with the exception of Buddy. Buddy was sent on quick errands during certain portions of the conversation. He was a good guy, but he didn't always know when NOT to say what was on his mind.

"Yeah. You really think the kids would freak though?" Gail asked.

"Maybe," Carolyn interjected. "It's the parents we're worried about though. No matter how liberal the state or the parents, more often than not they freak out when they find out their precious darlings are being taught by 'them.' Kind of sad," she added, "but it could be a lot worse."

"And you knew?" Gail said, trying to glare at Pat. Pat shrugged. "Ooh. I HATE not being the first to know!"

"Sorry," Pat said, looking a little perplexed. She hadn't known what else to say.

"And you," Carolyn said with a smile that made Pat blush, "Out and about like a girl your own age . . . WITH a girl your own age. And a boy, of course," she added placating Todd. Todd apparently wasn't paying attention.

"Hunh?"

"That's a boy," Lola said, punching him in the arm while he blushed.

Gail looked at him shrewdly, then leaned in and whispered, "Stop picturing them naked together."

"No deal," he responded, then phased out again.

She looked at the side of his head. "Boys."

"What?" Buddy said. He was totally confused.

Pat ruffled his hair while the girls at the table had a giggle. "Nothin' Budster."

"You still fighting on Saturday?" he asked.

"Fighting?" Carolyn inquired.

"Oh yeah!" Gail said, happy she wasn't the last to know on something. "You've got a tournament this weekend!"

"How do you feel about that?" the doctor said, instinctively slipping into work mode. She really hadn't gotten into the weeds on how Pat felt about the path her father had laid out for her. They had discussed Pat's reasons for adhering to the path and for dealing with her father, but maybe her martial arts wasn't all bad for her.

"S'okay. It's mostly for Mr. Baker's benefit anyway." Pat realized that talking about this was getting easier.

"How so?"

"I . . . I've already scouted some of the other entrants," Pat admitted. "So has he I'll wager. He wants another first place medal in the trophy. He needs his fix."

"So he's assuming you'll win," Lola added.

"I'll win," Pat said. There was no doubt in her voice.

"How can you be so sure?" Carolyn asked.

"He picked this tournament for a reason. It's in a part of town surrounded by a bunch of black-belt factories." Pat could see her comrades looked confused. "See, it doesn't take a lot to open up a dojo. Some places have requirements if they're national and you want to use their name, but there isn't much more to it than that. Anyone with a dark-enough belt who can break a board in half with his or her head can open one. And a lot of them are just businesses. Bring in the sheep, given a set of basics and, if they stick around long enough, reward their fees with different colored belts. That's it. Not a lot of places that appreciate the art of it or the discipline that it takes to be really good."

"And you do?"

Pat looked Dr. Martin dead in the eyes. "The places I've trained . . . you have to be. I started training in the states, but I was in Korea for ten years. I got more extensive training in Taekwondo there, and there were some good Judo schools started by real Japanese masters, so I got started in that to."

"You're proficient in two styles?" Todd asked. Talking about kung-fu temporarily had gotten his mind off picturing hot lesbian action.

"Sort of three. I started Hapkido not long before we moved back stateside. It's not my best though," she stated, almost embarrassed.

"Are you . . . you know . . . a black belt or whatever?"

"Yeah," Pat replied. Except in Hapkido. I'm not at that level, and they don't actually have the 'belt' system that other styles do. And both judo and taekwondo have weird age differentials so I didn't get . . . awarded . . ." Pat realized she was close to bragging now and promptly stopped.

"I think I'd like to see you compete!" Carolyn said. "Where is it?"

Buddy inexplicably decided to fill them in on the dates and times, much to Pat's chagrin.

'We've seen the girl you're becoming,' Carolyn thought. 'Now let's see the warrior beneath.'

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Friday evening . . .

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A normal boy walking up to a normal girl's normal house for a normal first date would've been nervous. But nothing about Pat Baker qualified as normal. Keith had never been here before, so the size of the place intimidated him. He was actually allowed to park in front of the house. The doorbell sounded like it was being rung by a hunchback.

"Hello?" asked the man at the front door. "Ah! You must be Keith! I've been looking forward to meeting you!"

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Baker. I'm . . ."

"Oh, I'm not Mr. Baker. I'm Tobias . . . the butler."

"Oh. Sorry. I just thought . . ." Keith stopped. From what he had heard, it actually DIDN'T surprise him that Pat's father hadn't met him.

"He's occupied in his study. Actually, I'm not even sure if he knows about this outing," Tobias said, trying not to let his irritation show. "Or he doesn't remember."

A young man who was obviously Buddy ran downstairs. "She coming," he said with a big grin. "Hi!" He waved maniacally. "I'm Buddy."

"Nice to meet you," Keith said, offering his hand. Buddy shook it like a madman. Then he got a serious look on his face.

"Be nice to my sister," Buddy said earnestly.

"I'm sure he will," Tobias chastised his young charge. Buddy was as decent an individual as you could hope to meet, but his sister meant as much to him as he did to her. "Where are you off to?"

Keith smiled. "Movies. Don't know which one yet. Probably just pick when we get there. Maybe go somewhere for coffee afterward. What's her curfew?"

"Having a curfew means having parents that pay enough attention to what you're doing to actually set one," came a voice from the stairs. Pat descended, clad in her snug new jeans and a woodland camouflage tank-top that clung to her muscular body. For most girls, it was a fairly conservative outfit. For Pat, it was as risqué as she had ever worn.

Tobias furrowed his brow. While he had long wanted for her to take a stand against her parents on a number of issues, he wasn't sure if it would be best that she outright rebelled. And she was becoming much more openly critical of them.

"So you two ready to have some, but not too much, fun?" Lyle emerged from the kitchen with a napkin tucked into his shirt and a monster of a sandwich in his hand.

"Yes sir," Keith said. "Just a little bit of underage drinking followed by the random discharge of firearms in city limits and possibly holding up a liquor store."

Lyle was grinning. He liked the boy. He turned to Pat. "Then you might want to wear a coat, and don't forget the ski mask."

Pat looked at her uncle and then her date, then rolled her eyes. "Where do they come from?" she asked of her ceiling.

"Some say the stork brought us," Keith said with a snicker. Then he offered Pat his arm.

'Gentlemanly and not faked,' Lyle thought as his niece gingerly accepted the offer. 'She doesn't have the slightest idea what to do.'

The two young folk went out to Keith's car, while Lyle stood in the lobby and Buddy ran upstairs to spend time with his mother. Just before the door closed, Reginald Baker walked into the foyer.

"What was that all about?" he muttered, the way an uninterested person asks a question he really doesn't care to have answered. He was reading his New York Times, sipping some hot tea and walking towards his study.

"Not much," Lyle said while he and Tobias instinctively glanced out the window to make sure nothing "improper" was happening. "Your daughter is going on her first date."

"That's nice," Reginald said, walking into his study. Then, Lyle and Tobias heard the sound of a tea-cup hitting shag carpeting and a paper being gripped. The door to the study opened and Reginald emerged, a confused look on his face.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

Lyle put his bear-like hands on his brother's shoulders. "Your daughter," he started, "is on a date," he added, looking towards the door, "with a boy."

Reginald stared at him. "She . . . how . . . when . . . Did she train today?" Reginald's mind had gone numb.

Lyle sighed. "You sir, are a moron." He then walked past his brother and back into the kitchen.

Tobias watched as, most unexpectedly, Reginald Baker walked to the window next to the front door and peak out through the curtains. He looked worried. But that wasn't the only surprise. Down the stairs came Mary Baker, looking just as confused.

Mary had planned on curling up with her boy when she has randomly asked where his sister was. Normally, the two were thick as thieves. Buddy had then informed her that Pat was going on a date.

She stood on the opposite side of the door from her husband, looking out the opposite window. But Pat wasn't there. She had vanished into the night with a young man they knew nothing about.