Houston: The Girl Of His Dreams, Pt. 01
The following story is set shortly after "
Houston Goes To Washington, Pt. 03
" and runs concurrent with "
Revenge in Advance: The Briefing
." For the full story of John and Houston, I suggest you read my series, "Houston," and the follow-up series, "Houston Goes To Washington."
There are a number of people I would like to thank for helping to make this story a reality. I would like to start by thanking Colinthedog for giving permission to reference events and characters from his story, "
Retreat
." I would also like to thank ACSpectre1 for her assistance as well. Others have helped with beta reading and getting me through some of my "Americanisms." To them I extend a hearty "thank you."
Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...
...
The man woke up and looked around to get his bearings. Where am I, he asked himself. The place looked... strange. It was as if he woke up in some kind of cartoon. What is this place, he wondered. He considered the strange landscape, which looked to be some kind of weird desert. He looked up and saw two large moons in the sky. That can't be right, he thought.
But there was another, larger question in his mind. Who am I?
He leaned against a large outcropping of purple rock and tried to figure out what was going on. He couldn't remember anything at all -- who he was, or what he was doing here. He had no frame of reference to go by and there was nothing in this strange landscape to give him any direction.
After several minutes, he heard a strange noise behind him. Turning, he looked to see several very large winged creatures flying in the air toward him. On their backs sat... something. He had a hard time making out what they were. As they came closer, he noticed they looked like large dark green humanoids with heads that reminded him of frogs.
He inched himself around the purple rock, hoping they wouldn't see him. He watched as the large creatures they rode flapped their giant wings. As they got closer, he took in their shape. They reminded him of pterodactyls for some reason. They had long beaks and a single curved horn coming out of their heads.
The frog-men sat in saddles on the backs of the flying creatures, and seemed to control them like horses, with reins attached to the necks of the flying monsters. The frog-man in the lead pointed in his direction and shouted something. The next thing he knew, blobs of green... something... was heading his way. Damn, he thought. They're shooting at me. But why?
He instinctively took cover behind the rock and his hand went to his waist. It was a reflex action, but it was a wasted effort as he had nothing there. He watched as the green blobs flew by him, hitting the orange "dirt" around him. He looked around, frantic, trying to find better cover. But there was nothing in sight, and he knew he would never make it in the open.
He heard the creatures get closer and saw more green blobs fly past him. He knew that unless something happened, he would probably be a dead man very soon. Then he heard something else -- something that sent chills up and down his spine. It was a very loud screeching sound, followed by screams and cries. Suddenly, the green blobs quit flying past him. Taking a chance, he looked and saw another very large flying creature.
This one, unlike the others, was white and wore armor. On its back was a nearly-nude woman with long voluminous white hair that flowed behind her head almost like a cape. She held a long flaming sword in one hand, which she used to cut the frog-men to pieces, sending them falling to their deaths.
As she sliced and diced the dark green frog-like goblins, her flying "steed" opened its mouth and hurled balls of fire at the the other flying creatures, burning them and their riders to ash in mid-air. The man watched as the aerial battle made its way over his head.
Finally, all the frog-men were dead, and the woman landed her flying creature about 50 yards away from him. He watched as she seemed to whisper something to her giant "bird," then walk to where one of the green men had fallen.
As he looked, she ran her sword into its body, then twisted it sharply, making sure the thing was dead. She bent down and grabbed its weapon. Putting her sword back in its scabbard, she looked at the man and started walking toward him.
The man couldn't help but look at the woman as she walked. She was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place her. He took note of her muscular thighs and calves, which rippled with power as she walked. Two pieces of material crossed her otherwise bare torso and she seemed oblivious to the fact that her breasts were fully on display, her nipples hard and erect.
As she drew nearer to him, he saw a metal clasp where the two pieces of material came together between her breasts. On the clasp was the letter "H." He wondered what it meant. He noticed she kept the frog-man's weapon in her left hand. He expected her to stop at any moment and shoot him with it.
When she reached him, she looked down at him with no expression on her face, and her blank eyes seemed to glow as though burning with fire. She reached out with her right hand while holding the weapon at her side with her left.
"Come with me if you want to live, John Smith," she said. John Smith. At least I know my name, the man thought. He took the woman's hand and even though it appeared to be drawn, like a cartoon, he found it warm, and soft. Like a woman's hand. She was quite strong and pulled him to his feet with very little effort. But he had more questions.
"Who are you? What is this place? What were those... things?"
"My name is Houstonia," she said. "I am the Queen Protector of Urhart. The creatures you refer to are green corpuscles. They know you are here, John Smith. And more are on the way. Enough questions. We must leave here and return to my fortress where you will be safe. Do you know how to shoot?"
"I think so," the man said. She handed him the weapon she took off one of the corpuscles. "I've never seen anything like this, though."
"It's easy. Press this button. That takes it off safe. Then press the trigger. With your training, you can't miss. Put it on safe and place it in your belt. Come now, we must go," she commanded. Training, he asked himself. What training? He didn't remember going through any training. He made sure the weapon was safe and put it in his belt as she directed, then followed her back to her winged creature.
He watched as she deftly climbed on the creature's back. Then she turned to him.
"Get on, sit behind me." Once again, he followed her direction. After he seated himself, she took his hands and placed them directly on her bare breasts. He found them to be soft, warm and firm. Much like... who, exactly? "Hold on tight, John Smith," she said. "Do not let go. You will be safe here with me."
He watched the creature unfold its wings as Houstonia grabbed the reins. He held his breath as the giant bird took flight, but kept a firm grip on her breasts.
...
Houston sat in a chair next to the bed where her husband, John Smith, lay, tubes in his arms. Tears ran down her face as she looked at him. He was unconscious, but every so often, his body would twitch and jerk. The doctors still had no idea what had happened to him. This was supposed to be the best hospital in London, with some of the best medical experts in the UK. So, why couldn't they figure out what was wrong with him?
She had already sent a report to her boss, Regis, also known as Alpha One, the head of Alpha Sector. He responded by telling her he was on his way. That was just over 24 hours ago. She expected him to show up any minute. She heard the door to the small room open and turned, hoping it was Alpha One.
Instead, it was Roisin Callahan, the lead agent in the joint MI5/MI6 task force she and John were assigned to as part of an exchange agreement between the US and the UK. Houston and Roisin had butted heads almost from the moment they met. Angry and frustrated by what she felt was the lack of response to her husband's condition, Houston flew out of her chair and pinned Roisin to the wall, her arm against the Irishwoman's throat.
"YOU!" she bellowed. "You've been busting our chops ever since we got here. I swear to God, if I find out you had anything to do with this, I'll rip your heart out with my bare hands and feed it to the dogs. You understand me, BITCH?"
Shocked by the ferocity of Houston's outburst, the blonde woman considered the face of the angry woman before responding. She could have easily handled Houston, she thought, but decided to let her vent her anger. She shook her head instead.
"I'm sorry about what happened to your husband," she said quietly. "But I assure you I had nothing to do with this." Just then, the door opened and Regis stepped inside. Seeing him there calmed Houston a bit and she backed off, letting Roisin breathe.
"Is there a problem here?" Regis asked, the brow over his one good eye furrowed.
"No, boss," Houston said. "Nothing I can't handle." Regis nodded his head and looked at Roisin.
"You must be Roisin Callahan," he said. "I'm Regis Carlisle, head of Alpha Sector. John and Houston work for me. What do you know so far about this attack on my people?"
"We're still investigating it," she said. He looked at her, hard.
"Then what the hell are you doing here?" he asked. "Especially since you let the assailants get away?" Her expression got hard and she was about to snap back, but Regis beat her to the punch. "Look, Ms. Callahan, I know all about you. I've read John and Houston's reports. I've seen your dossier and I know you had it hard growing up in Northern Ireland. I also know about your animosity against Americans. If you don't feel you're up to this, just tell me now and I'll have a word with the ambassador. I understand he and the Home Secretary are good friends. Perhaps they can find someone who's professional enough to set aside her bigotry to get the job done."
