romance To Protect and Serve - Ch.3 Posted 3/15/2019

[panama]

The characters are very well depicted, and they are very convincing, as if we could see them and be around them. And that is the most difficult task for a writer, I think. And it is a lot of work too ! I like the fact that story is equally emotional and tough.

[GymPredator]

7 hours ago, dredlifter said:

Come talk to ME, John!  I need you!

 

Well, John does have some leave time coming  

 

3 hours ago, Sjdmuscle said:

Wow, totally shocked another episode posted so quickly! Totally jonesing on this story! Thanks gym predator!

 

Thank you.  Really, those two parts I finished together, so there was no real need to hold the end of chapter 7.  Parts of 7.4 had been written for months now - Gabriel and John in bed, Will and Skye, and John starting the end game with Brenda Heath - I have had down since June.  Chapter 8 will not be quite so fast in coming, though.  

 

2 hours ago, panama said:

The characters are very well depicted, and they are very convincing, as if we could see them and be around them. And that is the most difficult task for a writer, I think. And it is a lot of work too ! I like the fact that story is equally emotional and tough.

I am very glad, because that is exactly how I want them to be.  When I write anything like this, really before I even do a plot outline, I build the characters.  One of the things that really changed how I write fiction was an essay from Thomas Harris (author of the Hannibal Lecter novels) - and how Dr. Lecter is a real man to him.  He spoke about writing with Lecter standing over his shoulder, "correcting" him in bits of the story. 

Most of what we write about in muscle growth or macrophilia and the genres that surround them so fantastic.  But, if I can make everything possible real, as real as I can, then it is a lot easier to accept those fantastic things.  The settings I can easily make real.  Little quirks about Denver, like John and Gabriel's first date with the Burrito Lady in Wash Park.  All real.  All the real life pro bodybuilders in chapter 7 really do workout at the same gym in Denver.  That also lets me give John and Gabriel especially, but the other characters too real personalities - and all of these characters from John Declann to Jeff Heath has some degree of real life people I know in them.  Real problems and heartaches and thrills.  If they are good characters (to me anyway) for me to work with, I want to be able to answer any question you might pose to me about them.  That way, when they are faced with these scenarios - I already sort of know how they will react based on "who they are."  What would it really be like to "outgrow" the world?  How would it change you, good or bad?  John hero worships Gabriel - always has - even though that isn't exactly typical of an MGS story where we lust after the muscle hero.  What Gabriel sees in John is easy to see.  I hope this chapter starts to show what John sees in Gabriel, and that there is a lot more strength in the little guy than anyone would ever guess.  They're both growing stronger, bigger, better - just in different ways.  If any one of us were to actually go through this - and I have to a much smaller degree going from serious morbid obesity to bodybuilder in real life - how would it really change us?  

Anyway, if after this is done, it feels like you really know these guys, then I've done what I set out to do as an author.    

[GymPredator]

 

---

Chapter 8 - You Know My Name - Part 1

---

“Hey, Ce La Vie / Remember me? I made you, dressed, and trained you / ...  / Strip down, show me flesh and bone / ‘Cause now I own you." ~ Shinedown - "I Own You"

---

 

Phone in hand, an unconscious smile graced John’s nearly perfect, ruggedly handsome face.  He sat on his couch dressed in nothing but a towel wrapped about his chiseled waist.  His head was leaned back, eyes half closed, listening to the water running in his master bathroom, Gabriel’s shower almost finished.  

 

As the pitch of the water splashes changed -- an occasional louder splash of collected water hitting the shower floor, more silent moments of low pitched swooshes mixed with the patter of single water drops hitting the glass walls like rain -- John could see in his mind's eye exactly what Gabriel was doing. Every movement, every turn of his fit, lithe body, every slide of the body wash sponge up and down his limbs and torso.  He could hear a slight vocal "mmmm" as Gabriel soaped a satisfying spot, interlaced with more strained sounds as he hit sore spots, a result of the events of last night.  John noted every single one of those sore pauses and swore he would caress every milligram of stress and pain away before the afternoon was done.  John could see it all as clearly and perfectly as if he were actually watching the scene live with his own eyes.  And above it all, one thing kept coming to his mind - other than how that sexy little body dripping with water turned him on so much.  “How could he know?  How could that sexy, little giant of a man possibly know when he does this spooky shit?” 

 

***

 

Scrubbing the spray tan off had taken maybe three times longer than it should have - not that John minded in the least.  After the shower came on, it had taken them all of ten seconds to devolve from actually washing into something much closer to muscle worship with soap.  John relished being able to pose for Gabriel so intimately, to feel him exploring with those soft, small hands.  To feel his Angel testing his striations and deep cuts, trying to dent his dense, hard muscle, and the random gentle kisses to his contest thin, blemishless skin.  To see him drenched with spray and soap bubbles that bounced off John’s body and to hear his intoxicating laugh as John splashed him more than a few times on purpose.  Damn, John had thought, in moments like that, all of the darkness that was in him fled.  He felt like he could fly, his own often cynical heart floating and shining brightly, every bit the equal of Gabriel’s own blindingly radiant light.  The scrappy little guy had this insane ability to allow John to see clearly, to make peace with all, to still feel connected with the human race in a way no one else could.  Everything in the world seemed so small, and it all got smaller every day - except Gabriel.  There wasn't a moment now when John didn’t feel that he was standing side by side with the littlest giant -- almost his equal, but in the end always looking up at and looking up to the English doctor.  

 

His man was his anchor, and he needed him right now.  Try as John might, try as Gabriel might, the events of last night kept trying to invade, popping in at random over and over when he was alone.  Gabriel had succeeded in calming John, and he was able to think more clearly now.  He still felt it though - the wordless rage, the power of the imperatives to protect his Angel.  John was, if very slowly, processing it all with Gabriel’s help, except for one moment.  A moment that frightened him too much to even breathe a hint of it to Gabriel.  A moment in which, through all the rage and fury, there was one more emotion -- hidden, in the background, but in its own way just as strong as the rage that started it or the love that stopped it.  

 

Satisfaction.  

 

A part of John and the Predator enjoyed it.  A part of them relished letting go and allowing his power to reign unchecked.  A part of them liked holding that pitiful candle flame of a life in his hands.  John tried over and over to share it with Gabriel but couldn’t.  Gabriel said that John was not a monster, that he was still human.  And even if John didn’t exactly feel it himself, he did trust one thing in life.  One thing that never wavered.  Gabriel York would never lie to him.  So, he held tightly onto what Gabriel told him earlier in the morning, clutched it as tightly as a miser with his last penny.  What Gabriel said was a talisman against the darkness, the flaws, the mistakes that lived in his heart.  John consciously knew now what made him so afraid that he wanted that rookie kid to finish the job. “What am I?” had resolved into a new question - “What does feeling satisfaction make me?”  Deep in the calculus of his speeding thoughts, John started to slide down the pit again.  Sitting there, he wondered if that satisfaction he felt was like what some Nazi bitch like Reinhard Heydrich felt in holding the lives of millions of Jews in his hands in World War II.  If so, what did that satisfaction make him?

 

Then, Gabriel did it.  One of those mind-reading, spooky moments that made John swear Gabriel was actually plugged into his augmented brain and could actually hear his thoughts and feel what he felt. 

 

For a long time now, John had the habit of assigning custom ringtones and alerts for people close to him - personal things that let him know instantly who was phoning without looking.  So it was with the ringtone and text alert sound for Gabriel York.  When the herald trumpet sounded that morning of all mornings, at first John wondered why the hell would Gabriel send him a text when he was just a few meters away in another room.  John unlocked his phone. It was just two lines and a link:   

 

Gabriel York: You are still a hero, and I can still hold you in my arms.  Wait for me.

                        Superman: The Movie | Deleted Scenes Part 4 |

 

 The first time John watched the clip, he was shaken.  Gabriel always knew what to say - even when it wasn’t him who was saying it.  Yes, he had to learn control, he had to learn how to manage this … this … whatever it was he was becoming, but his feelings were his feelings.  And he had to admit to them and embrace them and deal properly with them or they would explode - like fear did last night.  And sure enough, when he leaned back and closed his eyes and listened to that shower and his Angel washing under it, at that very moment, he could feel those small arms holding onto his neck and cradling his heart.  

 

***

 

John was relishing the feeling of the strange growing connection between him and Gabriel, when the phone began to ring and vibrate in a pattern that let John know it was a video call request.  This time it was Kenny Loggins “Danger Zone.”   He remembered briefly how much it made Warren Dougherty laugh when John got him to call his cell for the first time to hear it - chiding him if he thought of him as Maverick he had the wrong branch of the service.  

 

John came back to reality.  He looked at the time.  1230 hours.  “Punctual as ever,” he absently thought as he authorized the video call.

 

“Hello Colonel,” John said, his voice even more soul-resonant than usual.  

 

John’s voice was still developing, changing -  the richness, the depth, the flavor of it all strangely growing like the rest of him.  It vibrated within your mind like one might imagine talking to a Greek god, touching an instinctual, primal urge to listen to more.  In a way, it was like an auditory aphrodisiac.  Gabriel had even joked with him, calling it his “verbal blowjob” voice.  You just wanted to please it so you could hear more and let that voice “stroke your brain.”  John knew it was there, and while he didn't ever purposefully "seduce" anyone with it, he couldn't help but talk. No one was immune completely to it.  In fact, the only person who seemed to be able to resist it anytime he wanted was Gabriel.

 

The sensation was not on Dougherty as John's massive, shirtless visage popped on screen.  He replied,  “John.  How are you son?  At least you sound a little better and look better with that wood stain of a fake tan gone.”

 

John sighed.  “Better thanks to some time with Gabriel, but still…”

 

“I know, son.  I know.  Someday, I have to tell you about my first firefight and what I felt after...  Anyway, I need to give you some broad outlines on what’s happened on my end because of last night.  I’ve pulled some strings to keep things open for the next few days, but what happens after that.  Nothing too bad right now.  SOP really.  But, we can get to that later.  First things first.  Have you given some thought -”

 

“Yes Sir, I have.” John interrupted. “But, before I give you my decision, I have one condition that my answer will depend on.”  

 

“Condition?” Dougherty sounded concerned suddenly as his face dropped,  “John, what does that mean, condition?”

 

John tried to be reassuring.  “Nothing bad, Sir.  Thought you would know me better by now than to ever try to sabotage an investigation over something petty.  ESPECIALLY after one of the targets of that investigation tried to hurt my boyfriend.  No, this is something very specific, and I already know what your initial response is going to be.  Just hear my reasons.”  John paused a second for emphasis and swallowed.  “Colonel, I want us to make an offer to someone of conditional immunity and permanent acceptance into the Federal Witness Protection program in exchange for testimony and information about the ring.”

 

Dougherty didn’t even try to hide his shock.  “Christ in heaven, John.  Where did this come from?  I mean - let’s start with WHO? Even then, this isn’t something I have any authority to issue or even any influence in granting.  That would have to come from JAG, the US Attorney, and the FBI --”

 

John jumped in, aggression coming into his voice, a small bit of the Predator.  A subtle shift in the dynamics between the two, but somewhere deep, John had taken control of the conversation.  He was still totally respectful, but that new rumble said he was not backing down.  “I know, Sir.  But, let's be honest here.  We both know Justice and FBI would sign off on this in an hour, if you show you approve.  You know as well as I do, Wilson will bite.  And I think the US attorney will too.  On a purely legal basis, we have very few actual eyewitnesses besides me to what has been happening, and even then I have only seen it for a few months.  The informants can talk about what they know, but none of them are actually close or directly involved.

 

“Colonel, what would you and Wilson say, what would the US attorney say, if I could give her for direct someone who has witnessed the workings of the ring for years, maybe decades?  Someone who has seen people I have never seen.  Maybe even DEA has never seen they are buried that deep.  Someone who is so unimpeachable on cross that to my knowledge she hasn’t committed a crime in her life beyond a couple of minor traffic offenses.”

 

Dougherty sensed the change.  He was interested, but he also felt the pull John had.  He resisted it.  Very deliberately he said, “John, don’t fuck with me.  WHO?  Who makes you so goddamned passionate?  I can’t and won’t speak for Jeff Wilson or the US attorney, but hell, of course I am sure they both would have jumped at that if we had known about this person.  So would I. YOU WANT THIS, THEN ANSWER ME.  WHO?”

 

“Brenda Heath.”

 

“Shit. John is that who I think it is?”

 

“Yes, Sir, she is.  You said don’t fuck with you; so, I won’t.  You can call it a personal request if you wish, you can even say my judgement is clouded when it comes to this particular suspect.  I’ll accept both.  If I am objective, it's probably the truth.  But, even if I grant you all that, she objectively enhances the chances of a LOT of convictions.  And God knows what else you can get from her to weed out more of this thing, beyond what just a few months of me can do.”  John replied.

 

Dougherty tried to defuse some of John’s passion.  “John, I can grasp how valuable she would be if what you say is true, but so soon to h-hour… Is giving any hint of what is coming wise?  And yes, John, I can imagine for you, this is intensely personal.  But any ambulance chasing law school student is going to question if this is in response to what happened to Gabriel …”

 

“No Sir.  I wanted to approach you about this well before last night happened.  I have considered it for weeks now.  I just thought I would have more time.  And, yes, I didn’t want to present anything to Brenda too far from the executing the arrests so she will not give anything away, intentionally or unintentionally.  It is a legit danger.  Not questioning either of those.  BUT - that is no longer an issue if we are sticking to the time table you said last night --”

 

Dougherty blew out a loud breath, “Damn, John.  If you had been born a generation ago, you would have given the fucking Soviets fits as a negotiator.”  Dougherty paused, and relented.  “Alright, assuming that the civilians agree, how can we communicate this offer to her without giving away the entire thing?”

 

John leaned back, subly allowing more of his muscle mass onto the screen.  “That is the other part of the condition.  That communication comes through me.”

 

“WHAT!?!  John that’s impossible.  After last night, you KNOW I can't let you near --”

 

John pressed the slightly older man -- HARD.  Vocally, John drowned him out as completely as if he had physically flexed a biceps in front of his face.  As it was, John's pecs did tense unconsciously in response to his fiery Alpha nature exerting itself.  “Colonel, I have never insisted on anything in 20 years of this work.  Never.  I did what I was told, when I was told.  Politics or interpreting the law is above my pay grade, they said.  Fine.  I stuck to it.  Tried to be impartial - never took a side except when the investigation demanded.  THE INVESTIGATION ALWAYS CAME FIRST.  BEFORE THE VICTIMS, RIGHT OR WRONG.  I FOOLED MYSELF INTO THINKING BEING IMPARTIAL WAS PROTECTING THEM WHEN IT WASN’T. I WASN'T,” John practically spat those words in disgust.   

 

“Now I am asking for this one thing.  This one time, I am putting the victim first.  And, no.  That victim isn’t Gabriel.  The victim is HER.  I want her out of that abusive relationship.”  John paused for a moment and Dougherty heard fiery passion replaced by frighteningly cold steel.  He saw John's typically warm, hypnotic, brown topaz eyes drill into him like so much colored ice.  “There have been thousands of them over my career.  Who I could do nothing for or lied to  myself to convince myself not doing anything for.  Thousands, Warren.  Have you ever seen a battered woman?  Seen the bruises, the black eyes, the broken bones?  Have you?  And not just once but the same calls to the same place over and over.  You know them on a fucking first name basis, and you can't do a damned thing to stop it.  At least in war, you could shoot the fucking enemy.  You know how many times I've had to APOLOGIZE to those balless bastards who beat their women or their children because the poor souls were too broken to fight back alone?  Call me a hypocrite after last night.  Say it is some vain attempt to make amends.  I don't care.  I want to save one.  Just. One.”  

 

Dougherty was gripping his chair.  He had never seen John like this, never felt anything like the rage focused on him.  Again, he tried to defuse it, calmly but firmly.  “John.  I am on your side.  You know that.  Don’t think I am the enemy here.  I am not.”

 

John calmed a moment, took a breath, and became more measured.  “I know.  I know.  It’s just that John Cook told me when this all started, when I left Denver on the original assignment before I met you, that he wanted his office cleaned from this.  I gave him my word it would be. You know what my word mean to me.  Seeing to her future is part of that promise as far as I am concerned.  No more or less important than making a clean arrest of the asswipe she lives with and locking him in some fucking Federal dungeon.  

 

"I haven't known you long Colonel.  But, I want to tell you something.  I might not have said it before, but you have taught me more than you know.  And, you taught me one lesson over and over again.  We do not leave our own behind.  She is our own, Warren.  She may have never taken the oath, she may never have affected an arrest.  Fuck, she may have never even called 911.  But she is as much part of us as the men you fought with and watched die in the war who taught that lesson to you.  

 

“You could really use some unimpeachable testimony from eyes and ears who have watched a hundred times what I have.  She could use a new start in life, guaranteed to be free from any threat of whatever pieces of this cartel are left that we miss.  If you had time to build another relationship to make the offer to her that would not tip them off, I would have welcomed it. But, you don't.  With the time left, she will only trust it if it comes from me.  She knows me.  I know when I can do it so that Jeff Heath will never know.  I just need the sign off to be in her house so I can make the offer.  I have already given you my word, I would not leave this house without your express permission until after the OP is over.  And I haven't, as much as I might want to.  As much as I might want to go to Boulder and launch the prick who came after my man into orbit, I won't.  So, one more time.  I give you my word - I will be nowhere except inside this house,  sitting at my kitchen table when you execute the arrests.”

 

Dougherty’s voice betrayed that he never expected this kind of passion.  “John.  I can understand your feelings at least partly.  You know I have had to meet with the widows of men and women I've lost in my command.  They mean the world to me.  And, if one of my people were beating their partner and I found out, I would want to do something too.  I would be fucked if anyone would stop me.  And if they came after my wife - I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE FEELING, OK?  

 

“And… you’re right.  She is tailor-made and what she knows, fuck, what she doesn’t even know that she knows, could be monumental.  Alright.  I can’t make any promises.  The US attorney will bitch and moan over a Sunday phone call.  She is the religious sort.  But, as soon as you and I are done, I will call Wilson and her.  Who knows? She may be sympathetic for why you are doing this.  She is known to fuck over rapists and wife beaters with a razor wire dildo when it comes to charges and if she ever gets the chance to get them on the stand…”

 

John’s voice became soft and clear.  The only time Dougherty had ever heard this tone was when John talked about Gabriel.  “Thank you Colonel.  I mean it. That is all I ask, that you at least give me the chance to make the case to them.”

 

Now, it was Dougherty's turn to go cold.  John heard the man's command presence turn on full force.  “There will be a price though.  A big one, John.  A price that MUST be.  That is the other thing I need to talk to you about.  The assault. BCSO and I are in full agreement, and Sheriff Cook has agreed to implement the same actions at the local level that the federal government will.  Those actions are as follows:

 

"El Paso county officials have agreed to turn this over to federal authorities for disposition and adjudication. Our JAG judge has sealed all the records of last night in the interests of the military OP being executed.  BUT - as of 1800 hours Friday, you will go on administrative leave for no fewer than 60 days while federal civilian and JAG prosecutors review what happened and all available evidence.  They will make any determination of violations of civil or criminal law or violations under the parts of the UCMJ that apply to you through your position. You were technically off-duty, so qualified immunity doesn't apply under the current case law, according to my JAG.  So, what charges are brought against you or a finding of self-defence is up to them but both are on the table.  Of course those findings will greatly depend on the charges brought against and the health outcome of the person in the hospital - which if you would like to know, he is out of surgery and in the ICU, and with the exception of a shit ton of metal parts in him, he is expected to make a full recovery thanks to nothing short of a miracle of on the fly medical care from Dr. York. John - I have heard you call him Angel, and he certainly is for you.  Without him and that miracle, you would be facing a murder charge without any doubt whatsoever.  He saved you.  

 

“On Friday at 0900, you will need to come to Peterson to the secure conference center.  You will do your final briefing to the service heads you have met before.  After that, myself, John Cook, and you will have a private meeting.  I will speak on behalf of the Force and Cook on behalf of BCSO about exactly what you can and cannot do while on leave.  Long and short though, you will be suspended with pay, perhaps with heavy restriction as to where and when you go about your life.  Also, Cook said that you made him a promise to answer some personal questions.  He said you knew what that would mean and that you should be prepared to answer them.

 

“And John, you have to know that your request concerning Brenda Heath may have some influence on the eventual outcome as well.  Do you understand?”

 

“Yes Sir, I do.”  John replied.

 

“John, you leveled with me, and I thank you.  Now, I am leveling with you.  You are already my best agent, bar none.  Hell, among supervisory level federal law enforcement who know about you - I am the fucking envy of every department and division because I have you.  You are not just my best agent, but one of the best in the entire government.  That’s not blowing smoke up your ass.  That is the reputation you have made for yourself.  I think you also know what I think of you, the quality of man you are.  Ironically - what you just asked me only adds to that opinion.  I will do all that I can for you.  I am on your side.  BUT - understand, the Force comes first before any man under my command.  Even my best man.  I think I can speak for Sheriff Cook as regards to that and BCSO too.  

 

"Goddamn, this is the worst part of my job… and you John Declann, you just make it way harder.  Before I got married, the wife told me about an ex of hers and said, ‘It is easy to cut off and hate an asshole.  But a good man… that hurt me more than the world.”  She was right.”

 

Hearing that, John backed down and relented.  “Thank you Colonel.  For everything -”

 

Necessary point made, Dougherty changed the subject.  “OK, before we get maudlin, mourning you like at some bad Irish wake, let’s work on the assumption you have 20 more good years in you before you retire as a lawman after some well deserved paid vacation time.  Give me a moment and I’ll try and reach the others and set up a conference call.”   

 

Dougherty paused.  “By the way, what’s your answer to if you will participate in the OP as we can let you.  So you can logistically get our people into place?”

 

John looked sheepish and smiled, “Do you really have to ask?”

 

Dougherty laughed, “I still have to hear it.  You know Oscar Wilde: ‘When you assume, you make an ass of u and me.’”

 

Dougherty could hear the shift, an emerging endearing, innocent tone graced his voice and the almost child-like disarming look John could give when he knew you knew the answer.  “You know I would do it no matter what you said.”

 

“I respect you standing up for what you believe in, John.  Always have.  1400 Zulu Tuesday Morning is the execute order.  That is 0700 MDT.  You have 42 hours.  Your people will be in place by then? And take care of this business with Brenda Heath?”

 

“Count on it Sir.” John replied

 

"Oh and John?"

 

"Sir?"

 

Dougherty smiled coyly.  "Put on a shirt.  The last thing we need is some charge from the US attorney that you were trying to use sex appeal to convince her."  John blushed DEEP RED, released a rare embarrassed laugh, and nodded as he ended the call.

 

---

  

Gabriel closed his laptop as he heard the hang up tone signal that John’s video conference with his superiors had ended.  He had purposefully stayed away from his lover the last couple of hours.  John needed to do this on his own -  Gabriel knew it earlier in the morning, and was even more convinced of it now.  Besides, he had spent the intervening time doing something he needed to do on his own.  He had been running simulations on a less-sophisticated, but portable computer program that he could operate offline. It didn’t have the full power of the mainframe simulator at the lab, but he didn’t need it for this.  He took the complete scans of John from the past that he had saved, fed in the new parameters of John’s adaptation abilities beyond what they already knew was happening to his muscles and bones and let them run.  It was indeed as he suspected, if anything the changes were even stronger than he imagined.  Sight, hearing, touch, smell, CNS, brain...  It was happening in every system touched by the augmented neurons that had allowed John to walk again.  

 

John needed to know.  He needed to know just how far this was going to go.  But his confidence and self-image needed to come first.  His spirit needed repair, and only Brenda Heath could do that.  He needed to know that he was still human, especially after what Gabriel had just seen.  If there was anyone on earth who was becoming transhuman, it was John.  But, John needed to know - the operative term in transhuman was still human.  His body was certainly going to take care of itself and then some. But Gabriel was going to take care of his mind and heart and soul.  And he thought as he shut down the laptop, as long as John would have him, he would never let go.  No matter where John needed to go, Gabriel had already said yes to going with him.

 

Gabriel left the bedroom to see John sitting back, eyes closed, looking to all the world like he was meditating.  Gabriel came around to the back of the couch, draped his arms as best as he could around John's neck, and gently kissed the thick sheets and cords of muscle there.  "How did it go?" he asked between kisses.

 

Gabriel didn’t need to see what happened in response to that question.  He could feel the muscle and skin on John's face and neck pull back into a triumphant smile.  John reached back and rubbed the almost delicate hand on his left trap.  "They're going to email me the documents later today.  I have permission to be the one to present the offer tomorrow.  Today will be busy as fuck getting the teams deployed so that I can do this.  But babe..."  John turned his head so that Gabriel could see the smile he had full on. Gabriel could see the old John in that smile.  The old one and the new.  It was truly devastating how beautiful that smile was.  “It will all be worth it.  They’re gonna let me save her.”

 

Gabriel leaned in and kissed John's neck again.  His hands began slowly sweeping John’s mountainously peaked traps while he ever-so-lightly licked at a hidden erogenous spot only he knew of.  Gabriel had found it after many hours of delicious exploring.  That spot that made John melt instantly and he loved to take advantage of it.  He knew that his hand’s attempts at a massage had no hope of actually making a dent into John’s muscle.  But it didn’t matter.  He knew his touch alone made John surrender to the feelings.  And it took no time at all before Gabriel felt the tension in John's shoulders relax.  He smiled through his kisses, relishing what he could do for the man he loved.  After a few more moments, Gabriel let go, slid around the couch, and curled himself up in the perfectly-sized space for him between John’s left arm and pec.  John automatically wrapped the arm that was starting to rival Gabriel’s waist in circumference around him, pulling him gently closer to nuzzle. There would be precious little time for this for the next couple of days, and John wanted to fill his reserves with as much Gabriel light as he could.  

 

Gabriel turned his head up to see John’s.  "And the rest?"

 

John turned and looked down.  "They have no idea."  He leaned forward a bit and kissed Gabriel on the crown of his head.  With all the sincerity he had within his massive body, he continued, "You know you can still say no to this Angel.  It will not change anything in the long run.  Not now."

 

Gabriel replied by nuzzling the bottom of John's overhanging pecs, burying his nose under the space below John's downward angled nipple, where the slab rocketed off his ribs like an iron mesa.  Gabriel's hand went out, tracing the inches thick muscle armor, smelling John's soothing, powerful scent.  "You’re wrong John.  It will change something.  She will feel this.  She will feel this safe.  She needs it, and so do you.  Be her guardian angel John, as much as you are mine.  In EVERY WAY.  And that means casting the demon into the swine and driving them off the cliff.  

 

Gabriel paused for a moment, concern lacing his voice as he spoke again.  "It's just that there is something I don't understand.  You said it can't boomerang back on you.  How?"

 

John smiled slyly, like the cat who caught the canary, his thickly muscled hand gently stroking his beloved.  "You tell me."

 

Gabriel pulled away and looked up into John's knowing face, thoroughly confused. "What?"

 

John chuckled.  To an outsider, John’s expression and little laugh would have been easily misinterpreted as condescension.  But Gabriel knew exactly what it was.  It was John challenging him to a puzzle, something John knew was as irresistible to the littlest giant as John's body was.  "Go on.” John continued.  “You tell me why it won’t come back on me.  Odds are no one will ever even know it happened, but if someone finds out, I am perfectly safe.   

 

“Walk through it.  You and Jack - you have all the pieces, all the clues. But only you two do -- well, besides me. I get to be a doctor with you sometimes.  Honestly, it's becoming more and more fun trying to keep up with my sexy as fuck doctor.  So, be a sexy as fuck detective with me.  Right now.  In some ways, they are very much the same job."

 

Gabriel pulled back a bit, and John took his arm away so that Gabriel could sit upright and talk to him properly.   The small man thought and thought.  He thought about everything he knew John had done over the past month.  Everything he knew everyone else had done around the muscle giant.  It didn't make a lot of sense at first.  Too many random, seemingly unrelated happenstance incidents.  How would any of it shield John from what he had been planning?  It seemed in many ways like it was just dealing with the random events of life.  But then, in a moment of inspiration, Gabriel thought about what he had come to suspect last night and what the computer had just confirmed - John's mental abilities, his inherent intellect, were growing.  John was always an observer.  He had been long before Gabriel had ever met him.  Being an observer made him a good cop.  And being an observer, he planned accordingly.  Wait.  Planned… 

 

Suddenly, Gabriel looked up at John with a shocked expression as understanding dawned on him.  "My God, John.  You planned this all?!?  Didn't you?  Right down to this morning?!?  Jesus, you planned it."

 

John's lips shifted into a half smirking smile, an eyebrow raised, and John cocked his head just a bit as he cut his eyes down to Gabriel.  "Maybe…”  John chucked before he went on.  “Told you I did a lot of thinking on that run that night you figured out I am growing faster."  

 

Hearing John confirm that he had planned all of the events of the last month, Gabriel marveled at John.  John saw his lover look like a child seeing a giant pile of toys from Santa on Christmas morning.  The expression tickled John so much he couldn't help but laugh.  "God you're sexy when you figure something out you weren't expecting."  John took Gabriel's hand and kissed it.

 

John continued to hold Gabriel’s hand as he started to open up about what was really happening of late.  "Remember how I told you it was so easy now to get people to do what I want them to?  It's like when I bought the Jeep.  People just want to do things for me.  Most of the time they never even realize they’re doing what I want.  It's just a nudge here and there.  Sounds terrible, Angel, but sometimes it feels like you all are wind up toys.  I turn the key, point you in the right direction, and off you go.  I have to be careful to not get too carried away, as arrogant as that sounds.  But - at the core of it, you're right.  I game planned everything.

 

"I didn't cause everything to happen.  Don't get me wrong.  Like, I didn't plan last night obviously.  That was … way past unexpected.”  John paused for a moment, but then continued.  “But those things I didn't plan for - it just took a little bit of thinking of what to do, make a slightly different nudge than what I intended, and things went right back on track.  Sometimes the happenstances made it even easier, even better in the end.  What's coming tomorrow is no different to me to plan for than planning what got me here ready to do it.  Kind of funny how much better I have gotten lately observing people, gaming out what they will do, seeing it happen exactly the way I thought it would.  Guess I am just getting the hang of it, I have done it for so long.  But, that is why I know it can happen, and it won't come back on me.  

 

"Anyway, back to being a detective.  For the sake of argument.  Let’s say you're right, and I've been planning for everything to turn out this way all along.  That means I've planned out what's coming tomorrow just the same way. Right?"  Gabriel nodded in affirmation.  "Alright.  Then why did I just do that for her?  What does getting immunity and witness protection for her do to keep things from coming back on me?"

 

Gabriel thought for a moment.  John could see something was bothering him, something about the situation wasn't sitting quite right.  It was also plain from that expression that Gabriel couldn't quite put his finger on it.  Something was on the tip of his tongue.  John smiled inwardly, cheering Gabriel on, absolutely confident he would tease it out.  

 

Gabriel decided to start the way he would start teasing out a medical problem -   talk it though.  "Well to start everything you said was true."

 

John nodded confidently.  "Yes, Angel.  100% true. Every word, every feeling.  It's exactly how I feel, and you know it. Hell, if they polygraphed me on it I would pass with flying colors. No deception at all because there isn’t any."  John then lifted Gabriel's hand to kiss it again.  He allowed a knowing proud little smirk creep onto his face.  "I sense a but coming …"

 

Gabriel thought again until it hit him.  "John… you told the truth BUT you didn't tell the WHOLE truth.  When you told me what you were going to do, part of my fears were you getting caught.  That somehow I'd driven you to be reckless.  It's totally unlike you, but you were so angry.  I mean, like, why would you even be in Heath’s house?  

 

"But now … now you have a reason to be at their house.  And not just at some random time, but a reason to be at their house at exactly the right moment to do it.  You got your bosses and the bloody prosecuting attorney to authorize you being there.  Now, if anyone sees you go inside or finds your fingerprints in there or something …"

 

John beamed with pride at his lover as he completed Gabriel's thought.   "I have a perfectly valid explanation for those things to actually be there.  A reason everyone that anyone who would be asked to look this would agree with. They … WANT me to go, Angel.  Anything they find like that in a reasonable space for me to be in will be excluded.  Like their living room where I will be talking to Brenda.  -OR-  their bedroom -- helping her gather a few things she needs to take with her of course ..."  

 

John winked as he said that, making Gabriel reflexively laugh at how right John was.  Hearing that laugh made John actively try to control himself.  Gabriel was so irresistible to him doing so many things.  But when Gabriel showed he cared, really cared...  John knew it was a crazy sentiment to make him so horny - of course Gabriel cared.  Still it made him want to enter into a submission match with Gabriel’s tongue in a kissing contest.  As it was, John fought hard to limit himself to gently stroking Gabriel's cheek and keep his mind on the task at hand.

 

"And you weren't wrong then, Angel.  I was pissed.  And just dumping something like THIS on you the way I did.  You had every right to react the way you did.  I didn't tell you the whole truth then, either.  I promise you, I won’t ever do that to you again."

 

Gabriel looked at John and asked, "But how did you know the colonel would wind up agreeing with you?"

 

John looked matter of fact.  "Wasn’t hard.  Like most people who are good at heart, Warren is not a difficult read.  On top of that, I know the man.  Give him logical, objectively true reasons. Then make him feel it and he will do what's good for the investigation even if it is risky or unorthodox or rarely done.  Taking me on when he did was truly unorthodox, but it was the right thing for the investigation from his end.  Plus - He has a huge heart, he cares, but in that office supervising all the time, he rarely gets to show it.  So, make it personal, give that heart a chance.  I just gave him what he needed to make the choice I wanted him to make.  I didn't hide that choice I wanted him to make either. He's too good a cop to manipulate like that.  I told him straight out what I wanted him to do.  Nothing hidden.  Like I said Angel - I just gave him a nudge in the direction I wanted him to move.  He did the rest himself."

 

"As for the others, the US attorney is a feminist.  She HATES men who violate women.  It's what got her into law school in the first place when I looked into her public statements.  Nothing wrong at all with either of those positions.  You know how I feel about equality.  And, you KNOW how I feel about that shitstain.  It was clear she would go along - like the ultimate version of a battered women's shelter, complete with Federal guards.  And Wilson would agree if she and the colonel did.  Put it all together.  The odds that I'd get immunity and protection for her were - pretty much a slam dunk."

 

Gabriel was amazed at the logic, the calculus of what John had just done. It was so obvious when John laid it out.  But it would have never occurred to the old John, nor would he have had the ability to do what he just did with people like his colleagues so expertly.   If Gabriel ever needed anymore evidence that John was literally getting smarter as he grew… 

 

Smarter… Gabriel couldn’t pass it up.  “Slam dunk?  You said you suck at basketball.  You don’t even know what a slam dunk is.  At least now you don’t have to jump to get a dunk.”  Gabriel drew in an internet meme “Mean Girls” breath and said, “You can finally score.”  

 

John’s eyes glimmered like a kid’s.  He grabbed Gabriel around the head and started to lightly grind his fist into his scalp in a fake noogie.  “I’ll teach you who can slam dunk, Shrimp.”  Gabriel laughed hard as he said half yelling through John’s muscle to be heard, “Alright.  Alright.  I surrender.  You are the king of basketball.”  John let go and laughed.  “Damned right.  Now, let’s focus, Doc.” 

 

Gabriel smiled and continued.  "OK.  That all makes sense when you say it.  But John - that?  You know I want you to do it.   All of it.   Every whit.  If Brenda questions that you have my support for that, I'll be happy to tell her face to face.  But that's me. I've signed off, but just telling her about witness protection doesn't mean they have signed off on … THAT.  To the contrary, if they had even a hint of THAT,  it all unravels."

 

John's smirk was back.  "True again.  Of course they never would if they knew.  So I needed more.  But, believe it or not, YOU gave me the solution to that piece."  

 

Gabriel was shocked.  He was totally flummoxed and said so.  "Gave you a solution to THAT?  Jesus, John, what?  What did I do?"

 

John just kept up that knowing smirk.  Gabriel was almost there, so close to working it all out.  "Nope, babe.  You're the detective, now.  You're doing nothing more than diagnosing a patient.  Look at the patterns.  Consider the evidence and how it fits the patterns.  Even an off-hand comment can be critical.  

 

"Keep going.  You were talking about the signs that I would leave if I were in their home.  OK.  Take it one step further.  Apply the same thing to THAT.  What are the signs I would leave behind that are particular to THAT?  In a potential investigation when they look for evidence related to THAT after his arrest - what could they find that can't be explained by what they just signed off on?"

 

 Gabriel considered.  "Well people seeing you there or finding fingerprints that's all covered but …" Gabriel trailed off.

 

John's smile got wider. He knew Gabriel was almost there.  "Yes?"

 

Once again, Gabriel's eyes got wide as he saw that John really had considered every single angle.  "Good Christ John.  The procedure.  It’s not a match!  You are not a match to yourself from two months ago and you will not match you from today two months from now.  It will … Jesus, the single most specific identifier on earth will exclude you."

 

John raised his eyebrow quickly with a cocky grin. "Bingo."

 

Gabriel sat back amazed.  "And without a match …” Gabriel began to speak faster and faster as it all started to fall into place.  “Then no matter what he says, it will just sound like the ravings of a loon trying to get revenge. Bloody hell.  Someone who has already shown what he will do to get revenge - John, the evidence will work against him if he says anything."

 

  John chucked.  "IF he says anything of substance, he has nothing to support him and everything speaks against him. Like you said, even his behavior patterns work against him.  His promiscuity with the hook ups works against him.  What he did this weekend.  It all works against him. I would not be shocked at all if some judge declared him not competent.  Think about babe.  Would you put a psychiatric hold on someone screaming about 10 pro bodybuilders stripping you naked in an elementary school classroom, forcing you to ejaculate, and threatening to beat you up while also convinced that his wife and a seven-foot tall muscle god set him up, when every other person on earth would say that muscle god is a 5'7" average-sized guy, just as an example?”  

 

“Christ, John.  Of course I would put a hold on him.  It sounds like active delusions or hallucinations when you put it like that.  I’d be looking for a tox screen to see if he had taken psychedelics or something.”  Gabriel replied.

 

John practically beamed.  “You know, sometimes you are too smart for your own good.  I have that angle covered too.  Just give the forensic psychologist evaluating him a nudge in the right direction, even if I am not there in person to do it....

 

“That just leaves her.  Brenda is the only way anyone could prove anything.  Now, she can still refuse, and it won't change anything.  If it feels like she would say no after talking to her about the offer, I won’t even present the second option.  And, Angel, I give you my word I will not maneuver her into making this choice like I have others lately.  Just like I will NEVER do anything to manipulate you.  It will be her choice and hers alone. I'll share the evidence - then it is up to her.  But I'm guessing it is 20:1 that she will say yes.  She has the look.  The few times I have seen her on her porch, I have seen it in her eyes.  What she would do given half a chance, but she feels like she has no chance.  

 

“Damn, Angel.  I'll make a good New Scotland Yard Inspector of you yet." John only partially joked.

 

Gabriel looked down.  "What about that, John?  What are they going to do to you because of last night?"

 

John smiled, trying to take Gabriel’s obvious concern away.  "SOP, so far.  Won’t be my first time down because of a case review.  I'll have some time off with you.  We can make up for some things…"  John reached onto Gabriel’s back, instantly locating one of those sore spots he had heard earlier and gently began to rub.  Gabriel sighed.  He wanted to purr, to give into those feelings.  But, there was too much for John to do.  And something he needed to share before tomorrow.  Something John needed to understand, what was in him that he was carrying into that home.

 

Gabriel reached out and took John’s free hand, his right hand. He looked up very intently into John’s eyes.  "Then, my love.  There is something I need to tell you.  You told me what you were thinking and feeling last night, and it's time I told you what I have.  And what I think I have found.  You need to understand it before you do this."   

 

Gabriel held out the hand, a hand that didn’t even have a scratch on it anymore. "John, you punched asphalt with your full bodyweight behind it so hard that you actually left a crater the size of this hand.  So, why isn't this hand broken?"  Now, the roles reversed.  It was John’s turn to be a doctor.  He looked at his lover curiously as Gabriel began to share...

 

---

 

BOOM.  BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

 

An ungodly loud knock at the door startled Brenda Heath.  She sighed.  Only one group ever knocked that loud.  No.  Oh God, not now, she thought.  Not when she looked like this.  She quickly got up and looked at her face in the mirror next to the door.  The swelling was down, but the bruises - the bruises were still deep and visible.  She wanted to scream in despair.  Jeff would … if she didn’t answer, and it was one of his people.  But she had been forbidden to be seen like this and he would ....  She sucked back tears as she opened the door…

 

“Hel--” her voice trailed off.  The petite woman looked up and up, up what seemed like over two feet above her even to see a face.  In front of her was the biggest man she had ever seen.  Moreover he was perhaps the hottest man she has ever seen.  Nothing like the usual creeps--

 

“I’m … I’m sorry, but Jeff isn’t here right now.” spilled quickly and nervously out of her mouth.  “He will not get off and be home until ten or so tonight.”

 

The giant man didn’t look at her like the others did.  He looked so -- so kind, she thought.  The deepest, yet richest voice she had ever heard in her life resonated through her soul as he spoke with such concern and caring.  “I know Brenda.  I know.  That is why I am here.”  He opened his credential and showed his badge.  

 

His real identification.  His real badge.  His real name.

 

“Brenda, we have met before a number of times, though you will not remember me.  Me like this anyway.  

 

“My name is John Declann.  And I need to talk to you…”

 

The diminutive woman’s eyes twisted into full out panic.  The color drained from her face.  Even the bruises faded to a shade just before white.  She began to back away in terror, looking like she wanted to run away screaming.  “No.  No.  I don’t know who you are but you are not Decl--”  Her voice rose to yell, “Leave ME ALONE!”

 

John took a step back on the porch and dropped to one knee, putting himself at the frightened woman’s level.  He pleaded with her.  “Brenda, no.  Don’t be scared.  Please.  I’m not going to hurt you.  I know I don't look like the man you knew very much anymore, but …  just look at two things for me.  Just two pieces of paper.  After that, if you want, I'll turn around and you'll never see me again.  Just some paper ...”  

 

John reached into his pocket and withdrew two shining folded glossy strips.  He opened each of them to reveal they were photographs.  “This is from the July 4 county fireworks display three years ago.  Remember, Jeff was out working that night as a beat cop, and so was I.  I happened to be passing by you, and he asked me to take a picture of you both.”  John held out one of the photos at full arm's length, close enough for Brenda to make out what was on it.  She stopped backing away and looked at the picture.  The conflagration of terror that had consumed her began to be tinted with confusion.  She didn't understand.  That… was a picture of her and her husband. She recognized it.  It was one of the few random snapshots of them together she'd ever liked.  There were only two people on earth who should have that photo of her - herself -  she kept it in her photo album -  and the person who took it, John Declann.  This could all be some set up.  Jeff could have gotten her photo and given it to this giant so he could take her in enough to finally end her, but that was way too complicated for Jeff.  And the giant man looked … genuinely concerned for her.  He looked like he was so earnest and with that handsome face… She reversed her direction and came closer, a few tentative steps toward John, and she reached out for the photo.  John allowed her to take it, and she stared at it in shock.  

 

Holding it in her hands made it real somehow.  Brenda squeaked just above a whisper, "How… how did you get this?"

 

John's eyes began to light up.  He was breaking through.  "I got it because I took it Brenda. Please believe me."  John then held out the second photo.  “It took me a while to find a picture of both of us together at the same moment, but this was when Jeff got his last promotion on SWAT.”  John became quieter, “Look close.  It’s me, Brenda.”  John handed over the second photo.  Brenda defensively snatched the picture, and sure enough it was from the promotion dinner.  She saw herself standing five persons down from John Declann - the old John of a lifetime ago and a world away.  The Declann she remembered as the one everyone except her husband's little clique said if they wanted a man to be with them to do anything - it was him.  She remembered briefly how much Ms. Carla had raved about him that night...

 

She looked at the picture and then looked at the man kneeling in front of her.  At first, she just assumed they were nothing alike. This man was way too young, before anything only blatantly obvious like the fact that this giant made three of Declann.  They couldn't be the same, could they?  This man was like the template of what the ideal MAN should look like.  Like she imagined Adam would have been right after God created him.  Flawless.  Just impossible.  John Declann was nothing like this behemoth-- 

 

But then she saw the eyes. Those warm, light brown eyes. John in the photo and this man's eyes.  They were … identical.  But how... Wait… She started to see more similarities.  Subtle ones, but similarities still. Her head shifted back and forth, over and over, between the photo and the man.  The color of their hair was the same.  Something about the smile was identical.  

 

It shouldn't be possible but … under the surface.  Under the square jaw, under the magnificent, chiseled cheeks. Under the perfect length scruff beard that highlighted his sex appeal even more. Under the soft, young man's skin.  She could see someone else… she thought for a moment.  That voice.  That rich soothing voice.  It was so different than Declann’s voice… on the surface.  But she heard it when she really listened instead of just heard.  Different, but somehow the same as she remembered.  She began to step closer and closer.  Eyes, hair, voice, smile… 

 

Tears started to again well up in her eyes, and she reached out her tiny hand to touch John’s face. It was real, that face.  This was all… real.  She said so quietly that it taxed even John to hear her, “Declann??? John-- Is it really you?" She began to break down,  the fear releasing, She released a sob.  "It's really you...” 

John reached up with his great paw of a hand and with tenderness few could imagine such a strong hand ever being able to possess, he cradled her much smaller one on his cheek.  “Yes Brenda, it really is me.”  For a long moment, the woman simply stood and wept, frozen, her world torn between what her eyes knew was real but was such a non sequitur on the surface.  John allowed her the time to adjust.  He had seen this once before - the fear, the realization, the shock - the first time he had crossed Gabriel’s door when he got back from Los Angeles almost three months ago.

 

After several minutes, John spoke again.  “Brenda, I came here right now because I know Jeff isn’t here.  And, if you are willing, I want to talk with you.  I promise you, unless you want him to know, he will never know I was here.  Never know what we talk about.  It will be hard to hear, but you need to know.  And he will do nothing to you because of it - ever.  I promise you that.  If you want, I will make sure he will never touch you again."  Seeing it this close, feeling the fear that pissant bitch inspired in this woman, John felt his temper begin to boil.  In that moment, he felt the truth of what Gabriel had said.  By God, he was going to free this woman - and after seeing this, he was going to ENJOY it.  But, for now, for right now, he needed to stay in control.  For her.  

 

John took his hand off hers and with a single extended finger touched one of the bruises on her face.  "Never again.”  Brenda looked at John through her tears and something within her -  something that the better part of two decades of living in dread of her husband had withered but not totally killed, something she believed Jeff had crushed and ground to dust but wasn’t - that tiny something believed the giant man in front of her.  That barely-there spark of life said there was enough of her left to trust a tiny bit - one last time.

 

It took both of Brenda's hands to take hold of one of John's.  But she did, pulling it toward her as she began to walk back through her door.  John understood the wordless invitation inside, which he accepted.  He stood, and took a couple of steps forward, but paused at the door.  Brenda turned to see why he had stopped… and was again rocked to see John filled the entire doorway.  For the first time since she and Jeff moved into this house, she opened the second French door.  John was silently thankful that he didn't have to be quite the contortionist it would have taken before, bent down slightly, and stepped inside.  John stepped aside as best as he could in the foyer and the woman closed and locked both doors  behind him.  

 

Then she guided John into the living room.  While the archway to enter was rather low, John welcomed the vaulted ceiling, which allowed him to stand comfortably without the feeling of almost hitting his head on the ceiling or without needing to hunch his shoulders, feelings he'd become accustomed to in most homes away from his own.  Brenda sat in a small chair, but then looked around embarrassed. The rather delicate, formal furniture of her living room didn’t look to be big enough to support John.

 

John smiled, “Don’t worry.  It happens more and more these days.  I will not be bothered at all to sit on the floor.”  The woman silently nodded.  John reached down, pinched the edge of the coffee table in one hand, and lifted it cleanly, moving it to one side.  The small woman’s eyes grew a bit wider, watching what to John was a perfectly normal action.  The table was black leaded safety glass, easily one hundred pounds of it.  She had only ever seen anyone move it with two hands and even then with a bit of a struggle, and John had just moved it exactly the same way she would have cleared a dinner plate.  He moved it so steadily that even the magazine sitting on it didn’t shift a millimeter.

 

John sat his computer briefcase to one side on the moved coffee table, and then sat himself down cross-legged in the space he had made in front of her.  He couldn’t help but allow his head to take the slightest shake as Brenda still looked like she had just stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone.  All she could manage as he sat there was one word, “How?”

 

John glanced down for a moment, slightly blushing and then he looked up, devastating her with a sexy, slightly crooked smile.  “That… is a very long story.  Very long.  Short version is that it wasn’t exactly by choice - it was more than a little “unexpected.”  BUT - in a lot of ways, it has been a blessing.  It has put me in a place where I can finally help people.  People like you.”

 

Brenda’s hand lingered a bit at her mouth, index finger slightly extended and shaking.  John knew she was still scared.  He had a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in.  Brenda raised the obvious.  “But they said you were in an accident, down on the diagonal highway.  It was in the newspaper.  They said you were hurt so bad that you might never be able to come back…”

   

John put his hand on her knee, comforting her.  “Like I said, long, long story.  But, that much is true.  I was in a bad accident.  A very bad one with a tractor and trailer.  I almost died, but some VERY skilled doctors fixed me.  But that accident also put me in a unique position.  You see, for months and months, I have been doing an undercover investigation of something very big.  Something that out of a whole nations worth of law enforcement, I am uniquely suited to take on, looking like this.”  John paused for a moment, before he said, “Steroids.”

 

Brenda went white again, but John jumped in instantly to reassure her.  “Brenda, it's OK.  I know about Jeff.  I know about what he does.  I know a lot about who he does it with.  Probably more than you know or more than you think you know.  I know how big it is - all those people who knock on your door picking up and dropping off packages...  And to answer your question before you ask, no I do not use it.  I have no need to.  The people I work for tested me and tested me every which way.  Like, I think you know that John Cook would never let someone investigate the very drugs he is using.  

 

John could see she was starting to wall off out of instinct.  He quickly changed tactics.  “It’s OK.  You don’t have to tell me a single thing if you do not want to.  I am here to tell you things.  A lot of things.  AND - if you are willing, offer you a way out of all of this.  I just ask for one thing - for you to trust me just enough to listen.  Maybe then I might be able to earn more trust, enough for you to take one more step with me.  Can you give me that much?”  

 

“You… you are a good man… John.  I remember.  I remember how you used to play with the kids around town at the community park parties when you thought no one was watching.  That look you had when the little kids hugged you or when the teenagers reached for a fist bump.  It is so different from Jeff.  He thinks they are all thugs...” she said, still barely able to take in the dramatic changes between the man who was shorter than her husband she associated with the name John Declann to this god of masculinity who was sitting at her feet.  

 

John blushed hard hearing her say that.  He never thought anyone ever noticed that he would toss a football with the kids flag football league or endure a bit of ribbing from the teens at how much he sucked at basketball.  How much he loved teaching kids how to be safe around town on their bikes.  Even having to respond to drunk and disorderly calls on CU frat parties, he could usually walk away having built a little trust with them by not being a badge wearing ass.  Seeing that reaction from the man on the floor, the exact same reaction she remembered John would have with those kids, was what truly convinced Brenda that this really was John Declann.  There was no way anyone could fake that unconscious look, different face or not.  No way anyone but John would even know what she was talking about.  

 

She decided then to give John what he asked for. She took that leap of faith with him.  She whispered a bit louder, “So... you know about Jeff?”

 

John took his hand back, giving her the space she needed as she was taking that leap.  “Yes, I know more about Jeff than you can imagine.  But, by the end of today, you will know all of that too.”

 

“How did you find out?”  

 

“Some of it, the sheriff has known about for a while.  He just could never prove any of it, so his hands were tied.  Then, I came along.  Like -- has Jeff ever mentioned anyone to you named Kyle Brady?”

 

Brenda’s eyes lit up in recognition.  “Yes, the Air Force guy.  Started talking about him like a month ago. Jeff really likes him. They have lunch a couple of times a week.  Jeff says he works out with him and he is SO BIG…” her voice trailed off as she began to wonder.  It couldn’t be...

 

John smiled broadly as he reached over to his computer case and took out his Air Force credentials. He handed it to her.  She opened the leather wallet, saw the badge, read the identification, saw the photo.  She put her hand to her mouth as she saw the truth.  She looked over to John again, who cocked his head, mildly smirking.  “Well, he’s never worked out with me.  I think he is afraid to.”  John laughed a bit.

 

“You mean that you--”  she said, holding the wallet at her lap.

 

“Yep, I’m Kyle Brady too.  It is my undercover alias while on this assignment.  Everyone has the same reaction you have had.  Without someone who really knows me to put together the pieces, without me helping them see, no one recognizes me as John Declann anymore.  That includes Jeff.  We used that.  I watched a lot.  Investigated a lot.  And I have seen what he is doing to you.  What he has been making you hide for so long.  That ends today, Brenda.

 

“See -- tomorrow morning, Jeff is going to be arrested.  Both him and most of the  network he is a part of.  All of them.  That is what I have been working on.  Not one of them or ten but hundreds.  I’ve brought them down.  Come tomorrow morning, he will be gone along with everyone who has been shielding them.  Now, before you ask - why am I telling you this?  

 

“Well, I am taking a risk yes, but I also trust my instincts, and my instincts are that you will not tip him off.  But more important than that, I want you to REALLY know your husband.  I want you to know what a true disgrace he is.” John leaned forward, reached up, and took her left arm, complete with its hand shaped bruises.  Brenda could hear his barely veiled anger, “What he has done to you that you do not know about that is every bit as bad as this.  You deserve to know.  And I want to tell you, WELL, before this ever comes out in court - if it comes out in court.  

 

“I am here for two reasons, two things to talk with you about.  First is about this - the case against your husband, what you need to know, AND what the government is prepared to do for you in exchange for your help.”  John turned briefly, reached into his bag again, and removed a stack of papers.  He handed the papers to her, and she noticed the seal of the Justice Department on top of the first page.  “Brenda, this is an offer for you from the United States Attorney for the District of Colorado and from the FBI.  It basically states that in exchange for any information concerning what you have seen while you have been married to Jeff, people you might be able to identify who have come here, AND, only if you choose, your testimony against your husband, they have agreed to place you permanently in the Federal Witness Protection program.  A fresh start, getting away --”  John reached forward and touched the woman’s cheek bruises, “getting away from all of this, and having a new life.”

 

Brenda sat back in her chair, a tear dropping down her cheek.  “Oh my God, John.  You...you did this for me without even talking to me?”

 

John took her hand between his own.  “Absolutely.  One thing about us, something my Air Force boss taught me - and something your bastard of a husband has not let you see - is that we take care of our own.  We leave no one behind.  The first time I REALLY heard how he talked to you when he did not know who I was … this investigation would never be complete in my eyes without helping you.  I hope you can understand --

 

John paused and mist appeared in his own eyes.  “See, I have one person in my life who means more to me than all the world.  And Saturday night, your husband arranged for someone to endanger that person.  Your husband didn’t know who he was, he didn’t understand who this person is to me, or he would never have done it.  He would have been too afraid.  But he did.  I guard that person with my life, Brenda.  And as much as I guard him, it is VERY important to me that you have the same thing.  I’ve been at this job a very long time.  I know I do not look my age anymore, but almost 21 years now I have been doing this.  I have seen too much.  Too much that old John Declann could not do anything about.  Brenda, too many people just like you.  I sat on my hands too long, thinking I could not take a stand.  Well, that changes with you.  I will do all that I can for you, and this is doing what I can.  I can’t repair what he has done.  God knows I wish that I could wipe it all away.  But, if you are willing, I can make sure it never happens again.”

 

Brenda was now openly weeping.  John saw a box of Kleenex on the table he had moved, pulled out several, and handed them to her.  She took them and wiped away the tears.  “'Leave no one behind.' No one's said that to me before.  My father was career Navy, if you didn’t know.  I heard it a lot as a kid.  He tried to teach me to be strong like that… But, no one has cared about me since my parents died.  No one.  And here you are, a stranger who I have just seen around, and you cared enough not to leave me behind anymore...”

 

John smiled, “Then even more, you deserve it.  There is an old truism, ‘Every moment of pleasure in life must be purchased with an equal moment of pain.” I dare say you have a lot of pain that hasn’t been cashed in yet.  It’s about time it is.”

 

John could see the woman’s body language start to subtly change.  She was sitting a bit taller, even through the tears the smallest hint of light was in her eyes.  She was stronger now.  She asked with a bit more confidence.  “You said there are two reasons?”

 

John smiled, “Yes.  Now, you have to understand this other reason had no bearing or impact on the first at all.  You can fully avail yourself of the offer from the Justice Department no matter what your answer to this other topic is.  I want to be straight with you, I have the answer I wish you would give me after I tell you.  I think it will be obvious what I want that answer to be, else I would not be telling you about it.  But, it is your choice and your choice alone, and I will respect either yes or no.  You understand?”

 

“Of course, John.”

 

“OK.  The second reason is very personal.  You will understand the why much more once I share the case and evidence with you.  If you want, IF you want, you can turn the tables on your husband.  What would happen is very intimate, very private, and it would take some silence on your part.  It would not be criminal as such.  Nothing like what he has done to you.  If I wanted to do that - and trust me it has been a temptation sitting there eating with the bastard - I could have done that in a second and there is NOTHING he could have done about it--”  

 

John decided to emphasize the point, to let her know just how safe she would be.  He reached an arm forward and grasped a single exposed chair leg of the high-back formal upholstered chair Brenda was sitting in.  As easily as he might have lifted a glass of water, John lifted the 130 pound woman and the chair she was sitting in cleanly into the air.  His arm never shifted, never shook.  His breathing never sped up, his heart never raised a single beat.  Despite its unwieldy size, the two together weighed less than one of the pair of 180lb dumbbells that he used in the gym as one of his warm up sets.  She sat as solidly and unmoving as if she were still on the floor instead of being suspended in the air two feet off the ground. 

 

John talked to her again, with the same amount of stress in his voice if he were holding one of Gabriel’s cups of tea.  “There is very little I cannot deal with anymore.  Very few who could ever pose a challenge to me if it went physical.  Your husband is certainly not one of them.  If you choose to do this, he will never raise a finger against you.  He will be quite incapable of doing so.  If he attempts it, I can handle the situation appropriately.” John held her aloft for just a moment more before he lowered her again safely to the floor.

 

Brenda sat flabbergasted, simultaneously shocked at the display of inhuman strength she just experienced first hand and being immensely turned on at it.  “My God, John.  What can you do?  How strong are -”

 

“Strong enough.  Let’s put it that way.  I’m sorry to show off a bit, but I wanted you to know that I am not just talking.  All I ask about the second option is just like everything else I tell you, that you trust me enough to listen, and that I might gain more trust if you think I deserve it.  Not gonna lie, this second part … it will take a lot of trust if you choose to say yes to that.  So again, do not feel in any way pressured to agree until you understand everything. OK?”

 

Brenda smiled.  “OK.”

 

John returned the smile.  “OK.  Then, let's begin at the beginning.  This all started back in late February at the sheriff’s office after I had finished with therapy from the accident.  And funny enough, I was at the office gym…”

 

***

 

Almost four hours later, John finally finished.  Surrounding a shaking, furious Brenda Heath was all of it.  From the drug deals to children, to his participation in violent felonies such as what he had done to Gabriel.  From the sheer volume of cash Jeff had been hiding from her, to the photographs of the hookups he had had with other men, the travel records, the receipts, the gifts to them.  All of it.  John shared what he saw honestly, answered every question she had.  Over the time John had spent with her laying it out, Brenda had become more and more comfortable. The more comfortable she became, the more she learned, the more enraged she became.  And slowly, John watched as the spirit of a fighter who had been beaten down for two decades began to emerge again.  The spiritually strong, intelligent, titan of a woman John always suspected was there lived again - the very kind of woman that made her such a target for her husband to try to destroy to make himself feel better about his stature among other men.

 

John finished with telling her about driving up to her house.  “That’s it, Brenda.  That’s all of it.”

 

Brenda was red-flushed, her voice back to a whisper, but now not a whisper of fear or awe, but a whisper of rage that rivaled John’s when it came to her husband, “That fucking sonofabitch.  That fucking, fucking, sonofabitch.”  She looked John dead in the eye.  “I would take what he has done to me a dozen lifetimes over those children… Please tell me you are going to hang him John.  Throw him into the darkest hole of a prison cell there is.”

 

John’s voice was iron strong.  “He will be.  It will be both easier to prove and a longer stay in that hole if you decide to accept the offer of testimony for witness protection.  A LOT easier.  I can document this for months.  You can document it for years.  I can document ounces of gear.  You can document fifty-five gallon drums of it.  And you can add charges for what he has done to you.  And trust me - the US attorney reserves a special spot in hell for men like Jeff who have done what he has done to you..”

 

She barely took a second to reply, “Where do I sign?”

 

“Are you sure?” John asked.  “I know what I would do, but I am no lawyer after all…”

 

Brenda was resolute.  “I’ll sign it in crayon if that is the only thing I can find.”

 

 John smiled.  “OK.  What we need to do then is that I need to call the US attorney.  She needs to put you under oath and ask you a few questions just so show that you understand what this means for you, what they expect, and what you will get.  It is a secured connection.  No one will know.  You have my word.”

 

“I do not care who knows anymore.  Get her on the phone.”  John followed the instructions he had been given the day before as to how to set up the video conference, and within twenty minutes, Brenda Heath had a light at the end of the tunnel.

 

John concluded the conference call and closed up the laptop and secured cell he had been using as a hotspot.  “OK, ready for part two?”

 

The woman nodded.  John continued, “This will sound like an off-the-wall question but, what would you like to do to your husband right now?”

 

Brenda growled coldly, “John Wayne Bobbitt.”

 

John couldn’t help but laugh at the reference.  “Well, don’t know if we can go for actual dismemberment.  Would you settle for something not quite so bloody, or criminal, on your part?  But something I think you would find just as satisfying.” 

 

Brenda suddenly became very interested, “What do you mean?”  John smiled, only for the first time since he had arrived the Predator made an appearance in that smile.   He began to explain what he had been planning for well over a month.  What he had been very carefully laying the groundwork for, the real purpose of the lunches with her husband.  What would be required from her.  What John would teach her how to do this afternoon.  How John would make sure she is safe from him.  How John would act during the encounter.  How the Predator part of him she would see would be very different, but not to be afraid.  The Predator had one focus for his wrath, and that was not her.  

 

When he was done, Brenda Heath only had two questions - “That special person of yours.  Is he OK with this?”

 

“Yes.  If you want, he said he is happy to tell you that himself.”

 

“In that case -- can you make it as nasty as possible?”

 

John roared laughing.  He motioned to ask if he could take her hand, which she allowed. John guided her hand to a particular spot on his body. Her eyes grew enormously as John smirked and cocked a single eyebrow, "Oh I think I can."

 

John let go of her hand, and she lingered the slightest part of a second before she let go.  "Is it bad to say I'm envious of your fellow?  You know you're a hard one to equal.  After just one day with you, even talking about all this, and you'll still give me a yardstick no one else can quite measure up to."

 

John smiled even wider, making the woman fight not to instantly soak the front of her pants in natural lubricant.  "Want some free advice?  If I were you, I'd have a LOT of fun looking for someone who can … "  John stood up, smirked, and rippled his pecs like a cocky, college jock.  "Even if they can never quite get all the way up here."

 

Brenda laughed, a good, long laugh that sounded like it had been pent up for years.  She looked up with a smile that warmed John’s heart.  "Strangely enough, I like this new you John.  You know, I've always had a soft spot for bad boys."

 

"Then tonight will be a LOT of fun for both of us.  Let's get started.  He will be home in a few hours."

 

---

 

It was after sundown on the longest day of the year, two days after the summer solstice.  Jeff was already pissed as he drove into his driveway.  Work had been a shitshow, with the guys on the team dumping on him even more.  And he could not figure out why there was this urge to just take it - to enjoy it.  He never had that urge before...  Worst of all, his hookup for tomorrow had cancelled on him.  Past his lunch with Kyle Wednesday, the entire week was going to be a loss.  And then there was Saturday.  He had seen the news report, so obviously it hadn’t worked.  Whoever they sent had not gotten to the little British guy, what was his name, Gabriel? - or if they did, they certainly were not reporting it.  AND NOW - now the door was not even open!?!  The lights in the house were off.  Brenda sure as fuck should be here, but this door was NEVER locked when he was due home unless he locked it.

 

The key in the latch turned and the door burst open.  Jeff walked through, dropped his bag in the dark foyer, and seethed.  No lights at all anywhere except something low and dim toward their bedroom.  It was also strangely quiet.  He slid out of his boots and yelled, “Hey, Brenda.  Where the fuck are you?  You sure as fuck better be here, bitch.”

 

He had expected to hear Brenda come running the way she always did.  He had her trained mostly good, though she still needed plenty of correction.  But the sound of her shuffles was not what greeted his ears.  Instead what came to him was a booming loud, deep voice that could make your internal organs quake.  Jeff’s blood ran ice cold.  

 

“Jesus, Junior.  Is that any way to act when you get home?  You’ll wake up the whole goddamned neighborhood.” 

 

No way, Jeff thought.  No. Fucking. Way. There was only one person on earth who sounded like that.  Who called him that.  Who he wanted to call him that. Kyle.  What the fuck was he doing here.  Jeff ran for his bedroom as fast as he could in stocking feet on a wood floor, but found the door closed.  He twisted the knob and opened it and the sight that came to his eyes made him stop breathing as if he had been hit by a freeze ray.

 

The stunning mountain of a man that was Kyle Brady, sat on the edge of his bed in tight gym shorts and a wife beater undershirt stretched to its limits.  Every muscle he had was outlined like a second skin.  But what shorted out his brain even more - his wife was sitting across Kyle’s lap, snuggled up to the giant’s right pec and abs, dressed in a lace lingerie that left nothing at all to the imagination.  

Brenda looked at him and smiled a smile he had not seen in years.  A long lost look in her eyes -- Satisfaction.  “Oh - the time must have slipped up on me.  I’m SO SORRY.”  She allowed her hand to slide from John’s pec down to his massive bulge.  “Of course - this guy has a gift for making me lose track of time,”  She giggled as her hand squeezed John’s package.  “in all sorts of ways.  Welcome home Jeff.”

 

---

 

(Continued in Chapter 8 - part 2)

[cregssatx]

The level of detail and the story continue to be well beyond expectations.  But, considering Chapter 7, I'm very glad to see John has mentally recovered and that he and his Angel are still strong together.  GP, this story is epic... thank you so much for all the effort you're putting into it.

[SilverDar]

Great story.   Love the detail and pacing. You paint vivid pictures. The voice is very authentic in feeling. 

[Sjdmuscle]

Great chapter gym predator! Besides loving it, I wish I could give you a thanks and a just for the last paragraph!

[Tjdonger]

You’ve out done yourself! What a magnificent story. I thoroughly enjoy every word. Each paragraph invites me forward. Thank you! Please continue...one of my all time favorites! 

[dredlifter]

It really is an amazing story.  One of the most detailed and well-thought out stories on this site.  After all that exciting drama, it sounds like we have some exciting sexy stuff coming up too

[GymPredator]

Thanks guys.  Must admit that this section was a bit scary.  It is just big walls of exposition when you get down to it.  No other place to put them but here, and no way to really break them up.  It was the only way to show that John has kind of been stage-managing all of this for a while.  Moving his chess pieces, why he has been doing what he has been doing.  And this "game" is about to be checkmated.

 

13 hours ago, Sjdmuscle said:

Great chapter gym predator! Besides loving it, I wish I could give you a thanks and a just for the last paragraph!

 

Then you will LOVE the next section.  Karma is a bitch ... lol.

 

11 hours ago, dredlifter said:

It really is an amazing story.  One of the most detailed and well-thought out stories on this site.  After all that exciting drama, it sounds like we have some exciting sexy stuff coming up too

 

Whatever gave you that idea???

 

[GymPredator]

Just wanted to drop an update.  I am working on the next section.  One "small" problem.  It is 71 pages currently and still going, lol, which is why it is taking quite a while.  Promise I will break it up into blocks that are shorter than that.  (What I usually post is in the 20-25 page range on MS Word as a point of reference.)  Working a lot on making sure everything flows well and is consistent because this next part is something I have never written before.