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#19
AUG 07 |
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“Heritage”
The Watchtower
Earth’s Moon
He waited.
As seconds passed like minutes, Earth’s mightiest hero couldn’t help but find a little irony in that even with hands that could move the mightiest of rivers, topple the tallest mountains and with the speed and power to cross the distance between here and Metropolis in the blink of an eye, not to mention a various array of other powers, that he was still subjected to the mercy of time.
With a sigh that could push over the deepest-rooted tree, Superman shifted his position for what had to be the fifth time in as many minutes. He leaned against the gunmetal gray wall of the long winding corridor and crossed his powerful arms over his barreled chest with tensed muscles that physically mirrored the mental stress and anxiety he felt in his mind. He tried for the seventh time to see through the wall, and for the seventh time he got rejected. The laboratory’s walls were lined with lead to prevent radiation from leaking out; as a result his x-rays were also denied in.
Kal-El chided himself again because he knew nothing was going to change; that the lead wasn’t going to disappear suddenly. So, resigning himself to his fate, Superman continued to wait.
“So what’s the verdict?” Connor asked as he slowly sat up on the tray that slid slowly out of a machine much like a CAT Scan in modern hospitals. Once the tray stopped Connor leapt off and smoothed out his skintight costume where it bunched at his legs.
“The computer is processing the scans we took of your DNA, but I think we’re in for some interesting results.” Ray Palmer replied through speakers from his seat on the other side of a transparent aluminum window that looked into the room Superboy stood in.
Superboy raised a black eyebrow. “Really? Somehow I should have known Cadmus wasn’t done playing surprises with me.”
“While this is processing I want to run a couple tests on your powers. You said that your x-ray vision has been sporadic for a week now?”
Kon-El nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d ever have any special visions, but for the past week I’ve been nothing but bombarded with tiny ‘hiccups’ in my powers, for lack of a better word.” He looked down at the floor. “I’ve been dealin’ with it, ‘specially during swim class, but seeing Ma Kent in the shower this mornin’ was the last straw.”
Raymond smirked. “Yes, well …” he held up a clipboard with a black sheet of paper facing out. “I want you to concentrate and tell me what you see under this paper.”
Connor squinted until the black paper faded from view and was replaced with Miss November 2005. “Raquel Gibson - very nice. Get that from your personal stash, Ray?”
“Not quite. I had Impulse grab something from your personal stash. He did, though, make sure you had a double before he took this page out.”
“He took that from my clean stack? Those were collectibles!” Kon’s cheeks flushed a little red in anger.
“Do you blame him for not wanting to touch the used books?”
After a second of thought Connor conceded, “Yeah, you’re right.”
“What about your tactile-telekinesis. You’ve said that it’s been fluctuating, interacting with objects you’re touching without any conscious thought or manipulation?”
With a shrug Connor dismissed the point. “It’s nothin’ big, really. My TTK is the most common power I use, so it was nothing to get back under control. Outside of the one incident with the lockers it hasn’t been a problem.”
Ray nodded and consulted his computer. “Yes, well it’s good to have it documented anyway. I like to have all the facts this way I can dismiss what I do not think is relevant.” He went silent for a few seconds and his concentration changed to surprise. “…well, well, well…I should have known, but I did suspect,” Ray went silent again as he read the screen.
“You mind telling me?” Superboy asked with his hands on his hips. “I am on a time table here with school starting in an hour.”
Ray’s head jerked up and looked at Connor through the glass. “Hrm? Oh, yes…sorry. We may want to bring the big man in on this.”
Smallville High School
Connor sat in his chair, three columns away from the door and five rows back from the front of the classroom. The toe of his boot was firmly planted onto the floor under his chair that rocked with every shake of his leg. His eyes were locked onto the table in front of him, but he didn’t see it, as he was still thousands of miles away up on the moon.
The teacher’s lecture was nothing more than a faint buzzing in Connors ears that was lucky to have gotten any farther past them and into his skull. In all fairness even if half of what the teacher said did make it through, Connor’s brain wouldn’t have bothered to process the words as it was busy replaying the entire morning he spent in the JLA’s headquarters.
Kenny Klutter snuck a couple glances at his friend - in between the notes he jotted down in his notebook - wondering where exactly Connor was at this moment since it obviously wasn’t there in class.
“…and you’re certain of this?” Superman asked as he leaned forward against the back of the Atom’s chair looking over the scientists shoulder.
Raymond turned in his chair, forcing Superman to let go, and looked up into the blue eyes of Earth’s Mightiest Hero. “I’m 100% positive. I’ve gone over these scans three times. Superboy is half Kryptonian and half human. More specifically half of you, a quarter of Paul Westfield, and a quarter Roxy Leech.”
Connor sighed. “Well, at least Cadmus only told me half a lie. They told me I was all human.” a shiver ran up his spine. “All Paul Westfield to be blunt. The Roxy part of me came from when I was dying. My DNA was completely unraveling.”
“I have a hypothesis on that too, but first…” Palmer smiled and turned back to his screen. “Cadmus’s research and development on you was easily a hundred years ahead of its time - even with today’s advancements, and access to alien technology - that conventional scanners couldn’t ‘see’ through the artificial bio signature manufactured into your body. It’s only through the grace of having the Watchtower, which is easily a hundred years passed where Cadmus was, and real Kryptonian technology that detected the true nature of your genetics.”
“I’ve seen Star Trek before, Ray,” Connor blurted impatiently. “I know how every species has its own unique signature. Romulans are different than Klingons, Thanagarans are different from Parademons. Whatever, can we move on to why my powers are going bonky?”
“Yes, well that’s the easiest answer I have: you’re maturing.”
“Ma could argue that point,” Superman muttered.
“Your body has been frozen at sixteen for years, and now that that is no longer the case your body is finally growing and maturing. The Kryptonian cells in your body have finally developed the ability to release all that energy that’s been stored without an outlet for your entire life.”
Superman nodded. “That’s true. It wasn’t until I was about seventeen myself before my own powers started to manifest and I was able to hit puberty and mature naturally. Considering the hidden nature of your true heritage, the genetic tampering and your other experiences it shouldn’t be a surprise that your powers are manifesting sporadically.”
Superman’s next thought was so bright it was almost like a light bulb literally turned on above his head. “How did they get the genes to not crystallize and blend? We’ve seen the Bizarro clones, and I was told that my DNA wasn’t compatible with human DNA. That’s what prevents Lois and I from having children.”
Ray’s finger pointed at nothing in the air, like he was physically checking off another thing on the list. “Right, this brings me back to my hypothesis. It’s tough to not confuse the issue, but Kryptonian DNA and human DNA aren’t necessarily incompatible as much as they’re allergic to each other. They recognize each other as foreign entities and actively attack each other. In Connor’s case, I believe Cadmus managed to create a genetic antihistamine that allowed the two alien DNA’s to blend normally. Remember when you --” Ray paused realizing he was getting ahead of himself and forgot that he wasn’t alone with Superman.
“Is it alright? Do you mind in front of…?” Ray asked the Man of Steel as he tipped his head in Superboy’s direction.
Connor poked his head out from behind the November issue of Playboy that was left untouched next to Ray’s console. “Do I what?” he asked confused, his distracted attention broken from the naked girls.
Superman dismissed Ray’s concern with a slight wave of his hand. “No, it’s okay. This might affect him too.”
Atom immediately jumped back to his point. “Remember when you came to see me with Lois following your first trip to the Red Room? Her skin broke out with a rash and --”
“A what? The Red Room?” Superboy dropped the magazine down. He looked at his ‘big brother’ and smirked. “You guys go out clubbing?”
Superman’s cheeks flushed red as he ran his mighty hand through his raven black hair. “Not exactly,” he replied sheepishly. “The Red Room is a sectioned off room in the Fortress that bathes me in red solar radiation to drain my strength so Lois and I can…you know…without me hurting her.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “Can what?” then his eyes lit up in sudden realization. “Oh!” and then he grimaced like he bit into a fresh lime. “Oh, God!” he repeatedly smacked his head. “That’s not a visual picture I wanted stuck in my mind…”
Superboy would go on for the next minute mumbling to himself and praying he could find some sort of brain bleach to cleanse his stained mind.
Superman shrugged and the Atom just shook his head dismissively. “Anyway,” the scientist continued, “after I scanned her and ran some tests I concluded that her body had a severe allergic reaction to your DNA deposit,” Superboy screamed but Ray didn’t stop, “and I haven’t been able to come up with an inoculation since because, while you’re physically indistinguishable from humans, your DNA is very much different. The amino acids in your DNA are almost acidic to a human. Being born in a totally alien environment meant you just weren’t built with the same blocks we are made of on Earth. I’m at a total loss how Cadmus managed to figure out a way around this.”
“I’m sorry, but left up to nature I still do not think the two genes are compatible,” Ray said to Superman, sadly, “and with Cadmus and their entire research logs in a smoldering pile of debris, I don’t think any other lab on Earth is advanced enough to recreate what they did with Connor using yours and Lois’ DNA. I’m sorry, Clark.”
Connor watched as Clark’s head dipped in disappointment. The teen’s heart went out to his friend and mentor. Even though stuff like babies were the farthest removed thing in his mind he couldn’t imagine what it felt like to know that you never could when you absolutely did.
“3.14159265.”
Connor’s teacher faltered. “Excuse me?”
“3.14159265.” Connor repeated. He flipped open his text book and flipped to page 214. “The equation to expand it out is found right here.”
Mister B. looked at Connor for a few seconds then shook his head and turned back to the black board. “Very good. Now, for the next equation…”
Kenny leaned closer to Connor and whispered, “How did you do that dude? You were so obviously gone.”
“I dunno,” he said with a shrug. “It just popped into my head.”
The familiar ear splitting bell screamed out of the speakers. The math teacher put the chalk down and turned around. “Okay, there’s no homework so have a good weekend. Oh, and Connor, can you stay for a minute?”
Everybody gathered up their books and dumped them into their backpacks. Connor walked up to Mister B.’s desk, with a careful eye on the large brown cowbell that sat proudly on it. “What’s up Mister B.?”
“Don’t worry about me,” the teacher shifted slightly in his chair. “You surprised me, Connor. When I asked you for Pi to eight decimal places I expected you to ask me what flavor pie, maybe with some colorful quip about cherry pie.” Mister B. seemed to drift off for a moment. “Man, I could go for some cherry pie,” he spun around to the student teacher that was also busy packing up his bag. “Hey, Earl, we have any cherry pie?”
Earl shook his head. “No, sir, we’re fresh out.”
Connor smiled. “I’m sorry to disappoint, Mister B. I don’t know what came over me.”
Mister B. waved it off. “Keep it up, Connor, you may just pass this class if you can apply yourself like you did just a couple minutes ago.” He spun back to his desk. “Now, get outta here before you miss the bus.”
Hub City, Illinois
She brushed the orange powder on her hands from the Cheddar & Sour Cream potato chips onto her jeans before returning to the laptop. Amanda desperately hoped that she remembered the right passwords for the hacks she had in place. When she had worked with the Agenda, the organization had its fingers in various bank accounts across the globe and she had placed backdoor hacks into nearly half of those accounts that were still in place years after the Agenda’s disassembly.
She stopped typing when she heard a loud crashing noise outside and she leaned to the window and peaked through the blinds to see out to the motel’s parking lot. Amanda rested when she saw that the source of the commotion was a garbage truck placing a dumpster back onto the pavement.
Amanda knew she had to be careful. The CIA and other international intelligence agencies surely had taps on all the accounts they knew of to track any activity that could lead them to people like her. Just a day prior Amanda managed to hack into the files that lead her to a new identity in a safety deposit box here in Hub City. If things went according to plan, in five minutes ‘Chloe Sullivan’ would be nearly two millions dollars richer than yesterday when money from an account in Iceland would be transferred to one in Dos Rios, Texas.
Her hand snaked back into the bag of Baked Lay’s and grabbed another handful of potato chips as the hourglass flipped on the monitor while the computers nearly half a world away worked on accessing the account.
A gunshot echoed in the little room and Amanda’s head snapped in surprise to the right…then she sighed annoyingly and turned down the TV. Joe Pesci lay facedown on the floor as a pool of blood expanded slowly from the bullet hole in his head. Amanda chastised herself over her hysteria letting ‘Goodfellas’, on the free HBO, get the better of her nerves, but she was getting too far to get stopped now.
The screen finally changed and a confirmation of the account transfer popped up. Amanda grinned in satisfaction minutes later after she checked for herself that the money was safely in Texas. She stretched in her chair before opening her e-mail. There was one last thing she needed to do before she packed up her gear and headed off. An evil grin stretched on her face as she wrote her letter.
The Kent Farm
Connor muttered a curse under his breath as he flung the bed sheets off the floor and peaked under the bed. Spotting his good boots he placed a hand on the carpeted floor, at this point it was probably too hard to be considered a carpet anymore, and snaked his TTK along the surface and surround the footwear. With a minor thought the boots moved themselves close enough to Kon’s hand for him to scoop up.
His eyes scanned the cluttered room. Half a dozen pizza boxes littered the room mixed with piles of filthy week old clothes that piled randomly on the floor or hung on the back of his computer chair; video game boxes or loose CD’s were scattered about that threatened to be stepped on. Connor grinned momentarily at the Jenna Jameson poster hanging on the back of his door in a blazing blue bra and panty with spread open legs, then went back to the task at hand.
The clean clothes basket sat under a stack of school books that didn’t have any creases along the spine. His TTK pushed the debris away from him and with just a finger he picked the basket up and dumped it onto his grotesquely unmade bed. If he cared to think about how old those sheets were he probably would have spent five seconds to reconsider dumping the clothes on there…before dumping the clothes on there.
Connor grinned with satisfaction when he saw his favorite collared black t-shirt washed. “Thank you, Martha.” With a flick of his wrist the shirt unfolded and he slipped it on. Minutes later he laced up his good Timberlands’ and raced down the stairs. He leapt over the last four stairs and landed with a thud.
“Okay! I’m goin’ out!” Connor announced before he flew through the front door. He had hoped to avoid the Kent’s, particularly Jonathan, to be spared some lecture about being responsible. Too bad they were on the porch, already, waiting for him. What was even worse they’ve been entertaining Andrea Parker for the past fifteen minutes.
Connor stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh, um…Hi.”
She stood on the porch, nursing a lemonade Jonathan given her, in a nice black halter-top and an even nicer black mini-skirt that showed off her toned legs…well, nicely. So nice, in fact, that Martha playfully slapped Jonathan’s arm to break his gaze on them.
Connor was skeptical at first about Shauna’s proposal to accept Andrea’s date tonight, but looking at her now totally reaffirmed his decision in why he agreed in the end. “Hi, Connor.”
“I, uh, thought I was going to meet you at your place?”
Andrea smiled. “Shauna told me you didn’t drive. So, I figured I would pick you up instead.”
“I really wasn’t too worried about that…” he mumbled.
“So, where are you two kids headed tonight?” Jonathan interjected. He sipped from his glass of lemonade.
“Just going out to dinner. I don’t think we’ll be late.” Connor reached out and placed his hand on the girl’s back. He gestured to the stairs hoping to get into Andrea’s red 2001 Chevrolet Camaro sooner than later.
“Don’t forget your protection!” Martha yelled out and chased them down the stairs. Connor rolled his eyes. Andrea just smiled. “It looks like it’s going to rain later.” Ma Kent handed the teens two umbrellas. “Wouldn’t want you two caught with your pants down.”
Jonathan walked up next to Martha and slipped Connor a twenty-dollar bill. “Here’s a little extra cash. Now, don’t go blowin’ your wad all in one spot.”
This time Connor’s cheeks flushed red, while Andrea tried to stifle a giggle. Without any further hesitation Connor grabbed his date by the arm and minutes later the Camaro was backing out of the driveway.
The Kent’s waved as the Camaro shrank in the distance. Martha looked at her husband with amusement. “Now, Jonathan was that one really necessary?”
Jonathan Kent winked at his wife and gave her a charming half smile. “Too embarrass Connor? Absolutely.”
They followed the girl, in an appreciatively tight pair of pants, through the large dining room. Connor’s mouth watered as he caught sight of a giant slab of beef being cut on a counter in a little island off to the side of the room. The scent of the meat permeated every cubic inch of the dimly lit air and tickled his nose hairs.
Andrea giggled a little when Connor’s stomach growled like a lion.
“Just a little hungry?”
“Yeah, I missed lunch period so I didn’t eat all day.” Connor neglected to add that he missed it because Superboy had to make an emergency run following the sirens of a fire truck to a blaze that accidentally ignited in a wheat silo five farms down from the Kent’s.
Connor thanked the hostess as he sat next to Andrea, per her hand motions, in a booth seated for four. “So, what’s with the extra settings? I thought we were gonna be alone?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. We’re double dating.”
Connor was about to ask if they were anybody he knew when he spotted Shauna, in a pleasant white tank top, walking in their direction on the other side of the dining area. His smile faded when he saw the lumbering redheaded bully behind her. Duke’s smile, in contrast, widened when he saw Connor sitting in their booth.
“Hey, guys!” Shauna greeted as she slid into the booth in front of Andrea. That naturally left the only spot open for Duke in front of Connor. The two locked eyes as the girls leaned over the table to hug. Connor smirked as he extended his hand that Duke was easier than he expected to accept. He squeezed Duke’s hand with a fraction of his might and Duke squinted his eyes a tiny bit more telling Connor that, if he could, he would break the teen in half right now.
“You guys order anything yet?” Shauna asked as she flipped open her menu.
Andrea shook her head. “No, we just got here ourselves.”
A hand suddenly reached between the two couples and grabbed an empty water glass. Connor followed the hand up to the owner and saw his friend Kenny Klutter. “Kenny!”
Dressed in black slacks and a white shirt Kenny, the bus boy, poured the glass with water from a pitcher. “Hey, Connor.” Kenny looked at the people at the table and raised his eyebrow skeptically at his friend while the others had their faces buried in the menus. ‘What the Hell are you doing?’
Connor just shrugged slightly in reply. ‘I have no idea.’
“Can I put your drink order in? You waiter is running a little behind. He’s got a table of ten,” Kenny said as he filled the last glass.
“I’ll be fine with the water,” Shauna replied.
Andrea mirrored. “Water’s fine for me too.”
“Mountain Dew,” Duke said.
Connor mirrored and grinned at Duke as he ordered, just to annoy him.
Kenny nodded. “The waiter will bring them over when he’s ready.” He flashed his eyes very quickly wishing Connor ‘Good Luck, Bro’ before he left.
“So, Duke,” Connor broke the ice, “that Topeka game last week was one Hell of a win. Isn’t your next game against Wichita there tomorrow?”
Duke folded his menu. “Yeah, it is. The Wichita Crows should be a cakewalk. Too bad the cheerleaders,” his hand rubbed against Shauna’s thigh, “won’t be traveling with us to make our win more ‘rewarding’.”
Andrea frowned. “Without the money for it in the school budget I’m afraid we won’t be going anywhere this year.”
“Yeah, they had to cut the money to help rebuild the science labs.” Duke glared at Connor.
Connor tilted his head and looked at the girls. “Oh, well that sucks. Maybe the three of us can get together then, tomorrow, and watch the game on cable access.” He smiled at Duke’s look of death. “You could come over to my house. Martha would love to have some company to cook for.”
Shauna looked at Andrea – who nodded enthusiastically – and shrugged. “That sounds like a good plan.”
Andrea’s dark brown eyes locked with Connor’s. “Speaking of the last game, did you see anything that you liked?” a mischievous grin spread on her lips.
Connor’s grin matched the raven-haired girls. “More than you know.”
“Well,” Duke slid out of the booth, “I gotta take a piss.” As he walked passed Connor he slapped the teen of steel on the shoulder and said, “I’ll be right back.”
Connor spun as he watched Duke leave and he caught Kenny scurrying around on the floor. He looked back at the girls. “I’m gonna go say hello to Kenny. I’ll be right back.”
Kenny wiped his hands on a towel after dumping a handful of plates into a bin. A hand grabbed his bicep. Kenny’s head snapped to find it was Connor.
“Kill me now,” the teen begged. “I swear if I have to sit with Duke for another five minutes I’m gonna knock his smug fucking head halfway to China.” He was careful, of course of not indicating at all that he really could if he wanted to.
Kenny offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I’d go on a double date with Duke every day of the week and twice on Sunday if it meant being with those two girls. Andrea’s way too fucking hot.” He patted Connor on the shoulder before moving past him back to the floor. “So, no, you’ll get no sympathy from me.”
Twenty Very Long Minutes Later
The knife and fork clanked on the empty plate and Connor leaned back in his booth patting his stomach now full of 32 ounce’s of prime rib. The rest of the table had barely gotten through half of their meals.
“Jesus, Connor, I didn’t even see you start your meal,” Shauna exclaimed with half a bite of chicken still in her mouth, “and you’re already done?”
“I do a lot of weight training, you know, tryin’ to bulk up a little bit more. I’ve been thinking of tryin’ out for the football team.” Connor flashed a toothy smile at Duke.
Duke’s grip on his steak knife tightened.
Andrea swallowed some German potato salad. “So, have you guys heard that Superboy’s been spotted ‘round here? Tammy told me that Superboy saved her farm from burning down this afternoon.”
“He also saved old Mister Hughes from crashin’ his crop duster. It must be pretty cool to do all that and look good doing it.” Shauna added.
“He does have a scrumptious bod,” Andrea agreed.
Connor wiped his mouth with a napkin to hide his short-lived smile.
“Superboy’s a fag.” Duke chewed on his steak like a hungry cow. “He dresses in a leotard and hangs around with other fags in leotards with that ‘Young Justice’. What a stupid name.”
“Are you blind? Have you even seen half the chicks that are superheroes? Especially in ‘Young Justice’. Empress, Arrowette, Wonder Girl?” Connor countered.
Duke smirked. “Please. Wonder Girl is the Paris fuckin’ Hilton of superheroes, a skank whose legs are spread for every hero with a dick to screw. Except for Superboy, who’s probably too gay even for her to swallow.”
“How could you possibly know anything about Wonder Girl?” Superboy snapped. It was a little more than he wanted to feel but he couldn’t help it.
“I’ve seen the papers. Word was that Wonder Girl and Robin were fuckin’ a couple years back. Probably had it buried balls deep in her ass and she enjoyed every inch of it.” Duke smiled when he saw a flash of anger in Connor’s eyes.
Shauna scoffed. “Duke, did you really have to go there?”
Connor looked down at the table and shut his eyes. He felt them burn slightly and he blinked to try and moisten them. It wasn’t working. Duke and Shauna’s bickered faded as his pain increased. The eyelids squeezed shut trying to force water to tear up.
Kenny walked up the table with a full pitcher of water. “You girls need a refill?”
Connor’s eyes snapped open. In the next moment a fire erupted from the center of the tablecloth. A quick flash and a sudden burst of heat caused everybody but Connor to jerk backwards in surprise. With barely a moment to realize what happened Connor reacted. He grabbed the pitcher from Kenny’s hand and dumped the ice water on the table extinguishing the fire almost as fast as it flared to life.
The manager quickly made his way through the confused dining room. “What happened? Is everybody okay?”
Duke was the first to respond. “Sure, no thanks to this idiot.” He pointed his thick meaty finger right at the bus boy.
“Kenny?!” Connor asked shocked. “What the Hell did he do?”
“He knocked the desert menu into the candle! He lit the damn thing on fire!” Duke accused.
“He did not!” Connor argued.
The manager - a thirty-something male with thinning blonde hair and glasses - looked at Kenny. “Is this true?”
Kenny shook his sandy head. “I don’t think so. I was just refilling their glasses.”
The manager looked at Duke, then to Connor and back to Duke. “Come with me to the back, Kenny.”
As the two left Duke and Connor shifted back into their seats. Shauna and Andrea patted their shirts off with the towels to dry them of the splash from the water hitting the table. Connor looked Duke square in the eye and seethed. “You know he didn’t start that fire. Stop bein’ an asshole.”
Out of the corner of his eye Connor saw Kenny storm through the dining room without his black apron on. From his body language it wasn’t hard to figure out that Kenny had just got fired.
She lay sideways on the bed with one of her dark chocolate legs folded over the other. She wore only a pair of white cotton panties and a white t-shirt from Victoria Secret. The air was still a little thick with humidity from the shower she took twenty minutes ago, but at least the fog on the mirror cleared up so she could wash her face.
A slender arm propped up her head. There was still enough water in her red hair to run down it, but she paid it no mind as she watched ‘In Cold Blood’ on the television.
Ding!
The mini speakers on her laptop chimed. Amanda Spence fully suspected what the e-mail received was, and with unrestrained enthusiasm she sprang from the bed to her computer. Inside the inbox she found one new message containing two simple words. Amanda smiled and her tongue ran hungrily across her lips in anticipation.
Contract Accepted.
The End...
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