His Father's Genes

"Brent, you know I want nothing more than to jump into bed with you," Alice said as Brent opened the door to let her in. She wore a white blouse, with a short black skirt and a black lacy bra beneath the blouse, reminding him of when he'd first seen her thirty some years ago. Creases around her eyes spoke of years of love, loss, and laughter. "But we need to talk first."

"I went to the club, like you suggested," Brent said, guessing at the topic. "A few times, actually."

Alice smiled, although there was something in there that looked like it might be less than happy. She'd suggested it, hadn't she? But she'd only be human to have some regrets, or insecurities about it. "Did you fuck some pretty young women?" she asked.

"Well, yes."

"Good for you. Was it fun?" She sat down on the sofa, making herself at home. As far as he was concerned, this was her home, even though she lived with a human husband. She visited a lot, and her husband knew about it, although he didn't know he was a dragon in human form.

"Sure."

"Some of them have that chip now, don't they? The one that makes them have amazing orgasms whenever a dragon does, and makes that the only way they can get off?"

"Yeah."

"What was

that

like?"

He chuckled. "Interesting," he said. "An excuse to be totally selfish, I suppose."

She smiled, a little more sincerely this time perhaps. "That's probably good for you."

He shrugged.

"You can sit down, too," she said. "If you like."

The submissiveness came naturally to Alice. Humans like her - not all humans, but many - were drawn to dragons like moths to a flame. Even if they didn't know someone was an actual dragon - and most of the girls at the club thought that "Dragons" was just the name of some kind of club, like a biker gang - something called to them. But he and Alice had known each other for a long time, and the submission had become something more subtle. Still, she wasn't going to tell him to sit.

He sat next to her. She'd been looking over at the chair across the way, but he didn't want the distance. Dragons weren't supposed to fall in love with humans, but that ship had sailed, and no number of passionate fucks with other women had changed it.

She turned, met his gaze, and held it. "Gardner made me a proposition. I'm trying to decide whether I should take him up on it."

Gardner. His father. Just a week ago Gardner had asked him if Alice was good for him, and now he was chasing her? "That fucking asshole."

"Brent, calm down. You look like you're about to breathe fire."

"I'd have to change form for that."

"I wasn't being

that

literal. And not a sexual proposition, so settle down. Besides, when did you care so much about that?"

"There's recent context," Brent said.

Alice nodded. "I imagined something had changed. I'm not going to tell you that Gardner is a good person. He's not bad or good, really, more like a force of nature, I think. But I am going to tell you that he wants very badly to be good for you, even if doesn't give much of a damn for anyone else."

He'd cared about my mother, too, thought Brent. He took a breath, and nodded. "Okay. Out with it."

"You know about the medical singularity?"

He nodded. "Sure. Certain medical treatments have gotten to the point where people project that medicine is learning, each year, how to extend life by more than a year. Of course, the costs of all those treatments is gigantic, but it might get cheaper - might even be available to most people in a hundred years, they say."

"But to some people, now."

"Very rich people, yeah."

"Gardner is very rich," Alice said. "He's been investing for hundreds of years, and he started with a whole lot of gold - tribute from tribal chiefs and even kings, I think, in exchange for not burning their villages and farms. Ransom for knights who had delusions they were Saint George. Anyway, lots of compound interest since."

"He offered to keep you alive forever."

"Yes. For you."

"And you said?"

"I said I'd think about it."

"What's there to think about?"

She smiled a little. "Well, a few things, really. I saw you at your mother's funeral. That would be me. Watching Bob going into the ground. I love him - not like I love you, and I've known all along that if it ever came down to a choice, I'd give him up - but I'd feel the loss nonetheless. And then, eventually, maybe it would be my daughters, while I got care they couldn't afford to keep me alive - even, eventually, make my body younger."

Brent nodded. "I won't tell you that's a picnic. But..."

"But?"

"But I wouldn't kill myself to avoid it."

"I'm not sure you even could."

"Maybe you're right."

"Anyway, that's not the biggest concern I have, which is why I wanted to talk. Do you want me to do it?"

"Of course I do."

"Knowing I'd be doing it for you? To keep you from feeling - well, loss?"

"Only for that?"

Alice paused, and considered. "No. Not anymore than when I'm sucking on your amazing cock, it's only for you. Or when I'm riding you, it's only for you. But you know you always come first, with me. So, yes, it'd be for me, too, but only because I'd be with you. Which is the question, of course."

"Whether you'd be with me? Why wouldn't you?"

"You might be kind of tired of me. I wouldn't be young, like those girls at the club. Maybe you're ready for a change."

"For fuck's sake, Alice."

"I'm not asking you to give up fucking other women. That would be insane - a monogamous dragon! But I need to know if you'll still want

me

."

"I still want you." And he assumed he always would, but he couldn't guarantee the future. "Alice, I've heard all you have to say, and I don't often give you orders."

"But?" Her eyes had a smile that hadn't reached her mouth.

"Accept Gardner's proposition. I don't want to lose you."

"Yes, mighty dragon," she said, and the corners of her mouth quirked up.

Perhaps, he thought, she'd missed him being more obviously dominant. She slid off the couch to the floor, and knelt at his feet. He tousled her hair, noticing a few gray strands she hadn't managed to get. It didn't make her any less beautiful, although he supposed he was glad it was just a few.

She looked up after a while of being petted. "Do you want me to get that chip, Sir?"

"That would be rather unfair to Bob, wouldn't it be?"

"You come first," Alice said. "I'm - well, like your father, I don't know that I'm a good person, either. And like him, I want very badly to be a good person for you."

"I can't do that to him."

Alice nodded. "Well, then, maybe after he's gone. I like the idea of you being selfish."

Brent chuckled. "I can be selfish, anyway." He picked her up off the floor, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her up the stairs to bed.

He ripped her panties off and fucked her, hard, without foreplay. But she was already wet for him - being carried up the stairs by the dragon she loved had been more than enough foreplay for her. The steel bed creaked with the force of his thrusting, and he knew his hips were bruising hers. He loved the feel of her wet pussy gripping his big, hard cock. Even after all these years, he knew he stretched her. He resolved to seek his own pleasure, and show her just how selfish he could be.

She came first, anyway.

He pulled out, and sprayed all over her face. She laughed with glee, and then he pushed his cock into her mouth, and she stopped him from getting soft with furious sucking. Then he moved down, pulled her legs up so high he could enter her ass, smiling at the sight of her painted face. He might not let her wash off all night.

"I love the feel of your cum on me," she told him. "You treat me so well. I'm a very lucky girl."

Maybe there really wasn't such a thing as selfish, with Alice. And maybe that was why he loved her. Or maybe it was because she knew exactly what he was, and who he was, and loved him all the more for it.

She woke him up with a blowjob. When his eyes fluttered open, she moved her mouth off just long enough to say, "I should be getting home in an hour, but I have just enough time to get you off."

"You'll be accepting Gardner's offer," he said.

"Yes, Master," she told him, and went back to sucking.

There was a loud, insistent knock on the door. It was eight in the morning on a Saturday, which was awfully early for contractors or even missionaries who weren't scared off by the "Those who solicit may be eaten" sign out front.

Alice looked up again. "Should you?"

"Hell no," he said.

She took his cock back in her mouth, but the knocking began again.

He sighed, and gently nudged her off.

"I'll tell them to go away," Alice said. "You can stay right there."

"I wonder what they want?"

"Well, they'll know what we were doing," Alice told him. He never had let her wash off her face. Maybe it wasn't the best look, but he enjoyed it. "Do you want me to put something on, or answer it as I am?"

He laughed. "I'll put a robe on and answer it myself. You get dressed, I know you need to be getting home."

"Only if you promise to have someone else come to take care of you," she said, giving his still hard cock a squeeze. "Somebody's got to finish the job."

Okay, that was another reason he loved her. She was indefatigable about sharing him.

He put on a bathrobe, while she got dressed. While he walked down the stairs he tried to compose himself to say "What the fuck?" in a measured, calm way. If they were offering a free window inspection, he would tell them they were a pain in the glass. If they were JW's, he would tell them that he, personally, had witnessed Jehovah doing seventy-five in a fifty-five zone, and he couldn't condone that sort of thing.

He opened the door, to see a man and a woman in their late thirties dressed in dark blue suits. Mormons? No name tags that said that they were Elder so-and-so, and in any case the Mormons didn't usually work in mixed-sex pairs, so he resisted the temptation to start singing from the musical.

Instead, he raised an eyebrow and let them speak first.

"I'm Agent Markham, and this is Agent Johansen." Markham was a black man, and wore a red tie. Johansen was dressed almost identically, but with a skirt instead of pants and a white cravat instead of a tie. Her blonde hair was in a tight bun. "Our supervisors know where we are, so if you eat us, there will be repercussions. Lovely bathrobe, by the way. I like the dragon motif, very subtle. May we come in?"

The bathrobe had been a present from Chloe. "Agent?" he said. They had said the word exactly like "Elder."

"Federal government, sir," Johansen said.

"What's the government want with me?" Brent asked, with a sinking feeling.

"I think it would be better to talk about that inside, sir," Johansen told him.

"Got a search warrant?"

"No," Markham said. "But we know your secret, and we think you don't want the rest of the neighborhood to know. So, inside?"

The rest of the neighborhood was at least thirty feet away, even if someone happened to walk their dog early on a Saturday.

"Everything okay?" Alice asked, from behind him. He glanced back. Her face was washed, and she had on a jersey dress that fitted her nicely but was decidedly more conservative than the outfit she'd shown up in.

"Mrs. Verruci," Markham said with a nod. "We have some private business with Mr. Carlisle, if you don't mind. But it looked like you were just going?"

They knew her name. Shit. How long had they been watching him? He could see the same realization hit Alice. And then, rather hastily, she said. "Yes. I was. I'll see you Brent."

Brent didn't want her to go, but maybe it was for the best. Except, out there, she could be picked up by other federal agents.

"We won't touch her," Markham said.

He had no doubt Markham would lie if he'd been ordered to, or that Markham's superiors would withhold information if they didn't think Markham was a good enough liar. Still, he couldn't watch Alice every moment of every day, and she needed to get home, she'd said.

"You better not."

Markham just raised his eyebrows and nodded.

Alice slipped by them. They had a big black sedan, parked right in front of Alice's old minivan. Alice was due for a new car. Something sportier, he thought.

He stood aside and waved the two agents in. "So, what can I do for you? Want anything to drink?"

"I'd like -" Agent Johansen started.

"No thank you, we're on duty," Markham interrupted.

So they weren't always in lockstep. Good to know. He showed them the living room, and gestured for them to sit on the couch where he and Alice had talked earlier. He took the big chair facing it, tempted as he was to stand over them.

"So. Why are federal agents knocking at my door at ungodly hours of the morning?"

"We waited until after eight, sir," Johansen said.

"Right. That didn't answer the question. And what agency are you from, anyway."

"Technically, we are part of NSA," Markham said.

"Technically."

"Practically, the head of our section reports directly to the President. In order to keep

your

secret."

"And how many people are in your section?"

"That's none - " Markham started.

"Thirty-two, sir." Johansen said.

Markham looked at her. "I knew it was a mistake doing it this way."

"So, thirty some-odd people know?"

"In this country," Markham said. "We think other countries have their own agencies much like ours. The Russians -"

"So it won't be a secret for long."

"Probably not."

"We'll do our best, sir," Johansen told him.

"So, what do you want?" Brent asked.

"We're looking to come to an understanding," Markham said. "Other countries are coming to arrangements with their dragons, and we need to do the same. We wish to enlist you in the arsenal of democracy."

"This isn't a democracy, it's a republic."

"Technically, of course."

"Not technically. It's not a democracy. The person who gets the most votes doesn't always win, and some people get a Senator for every two hundred thousand people and others get one for every twenty-five million. And some don't get any at all. It's not a democracy."

"Alright, the arsenal of the republic, then."

"So that I can counter other dragons."

"Yes."

"No."

His phone buzzed, and he looked at it. Alice, so he checked the message. "Texted Gardner. He's organizing. Says to sit tight."

He "loved" the text and put the phone back in his pocket. Johansen recrossed her legs. Markham didn't move.

"We expected that response, of course," Markham said. "But what assurances do we have that dragons won't attempt to wage war on humankind, if you won't cooperate and aren't patriotic?"

"We haven't so far," Brent said. "And we've known about each other, and you, for hundreds of years." He wasn't the person to be explaining this, because he hadn't witnessed any of that. They should be talking to Gardner, but he wasn't going to lead them to his father, either. "Do you think we were waiting for you to have nukes so it would be a fair fight, or something?"

"I'll convey that thought to my superiors. Meanwhile, we would like some assurances, Mr. Carlisle."

"Fine. I assure you that I have no intention of flying around, burninating your towns."

Johansen giggled. Markham glowered. "Burninating?" he asked.

"Trogdor reference," Johansen said, before Brent could respond.

Markham frowned. "I'll inform my superiors of your declaration. Do you speak for all the dragons?"

Brent shook his head. "I can tell you they don't intend to, but I can't read their minds. And I haven't met all of them."

"We have a list," Markham said. "Our agents are in the process of contacting the ones we know about. We think it would be in the interest of our species and yours to maintain contacts and keep avenues of conversation open."

Brent shrugged. "Alright. Can we rule out Saturday morning at eight? Maybe text first? I'm sure you can get my number."

Markham rattled it off.

"Did you think implicitly threatening Alice was the way to get off to a good start?"

"I was just being polite."

"Bullshit."

"I was also following instructions."

"All I want is to be left alone, and to have my friends left alone, and I'll leave you alone," Brent said.

"Friends meaning dragons? Or friends meaning women? We don't show any indication that you have any male, human friends. And your relations with women have hardly been relations of equality. We're aware of the chips, the tattoos, the 'dragons only,' pledges. And most of those women don't even know you're really dragons."

"Friends meaning both. You harm them, and I'll fuck you up."

Markham fixed him with a stare. "So you care for them. The women."

"Yeah. I care for them."

"You know, it takes all my training to do what I came here to do. To poke the bear. To look you in the eye. There's something about you - I don't know. I can sense it."

"Yes," Brent said, fixing him with a stare.

"Fine. We won't harm you or your women, and you won't harm us. I'll let my superiors know that I think you can be trusted."

Brent wondered if there was something in the conversation he'd missed, but no, Markham was getting up.

"I'll find my own way out," the agent said.

"No, I'll see you to the door."

Markham shrugged. They'd both taken three steps when Brent realized Johansen hadn't budged, nor did Markham seem to expect her to. If he took Markham to the door, Johansen would be out of sight. He didn't know what she'd be able to find if she started rummaging, exactly, but it still seemed like a bad idea.

Brent stopped. "You going, too?" Brent asked her.

"Shortly, perhaps, sir," she said. "I have information for you that Agent Markham is not cleared for. I won't move, don't worry. I'm not here to search the place, but I believe if you stand in that doorway you can let Agent Markham out and keep an eye on me at the same time."

So he could. He did. Markham made sure the door would lock when he closed it, although of course it was unbolted. They were ordinary locks; he didn't doubt the NSA had people who could bypass them, anyway.

"So, Agent Johansen," he said, as he walked back to sit in the chair. "What else is there to talk about?"

"Call me Inga, please, sir. Short for Ingrid, in my case."

"Sure. Then call me Brent. But I don't know that we're friends, exactly."

Inga nodded. "I'm your assigned case officer. My job is to work with you, and for you, and also to report on you to my superiors. They have done a thorough investigation of over a thousand women who have been connected to dragons, and have recruited agents who are of a similar type to liaise with individual dragons such as yourself."

"What if I don't want to be reported on?" Brent asked.

"May I come sit in your lap?" Inga asked, smiling coquettishly and reaching behind her head to release her hair, which cascaded in lovely blonde waves over her shoulders.

"They sent you to seduce me? You're a very attractive woman, but it's not like I'm lacking in opportunities."

Undeterred, Inga got up off the couch, loosening her cravat and sashaying over toward Brent. She was, indeed, a very attractive woman, and he was curious as to how far she'd go.

She leaned over, as if to kiss him, but missed his lips and headed for his cheek.

"There's a bug in the couch," she said. "Probably others in the house."

"Why are you telling me this?" he whispered back.

"Why do you think, sir?"

She straightened, and tossed the cravat on to the other chair. Her jacket followed it. He watched, trying to figure her out, as she unbuttoned her blouse, revealing soft mounds of pink flesh.

"As part of our arrangement," she said, in a clear voice, "My job is to work for you in any capacity you desire. To work under you, should you wish. Or beside you, or on top of you. At a desk, or on the floor, or with whatever furniture you deem appropriate. Sir."