Busty Babes 1/Busty Babes - Vol 1.iso/stories/bandit.txt

Text File | 1993-07-13 | 260.0 KB | 4,261 lines

        PROLOGUE: It has a mind of its own

Late winter 1982

    The room was bathed in fanned rays of yellow light, the glare of the
streetlight outside the window only partially shuttered out by the Venetian
blinds. It wasn't a terribly cluttered or fancy room; bunk bed at one end,
desk at the other, two closets and chests of drawers, mirror, and bookshelves.
The walls were grey cinderblock, and the floor was institutional brown tile, a
choice of a practical rather than esthetic nature. But that wasn't to say that
the room had no character; far from it. It wasn't easy for a lowly teenager to
make a dent in the Establishment's effort to create anonymous conformity, but
it could be done. The center of the floor was covered by a huge Persian rug,
and the walls were adorned with Roger Dean landscapes: here an ethereal stone
staircase over a cloudy sky, there a desert island floating in the clouds, and
over there a huge mesa, a lake at its top, sheeting down water on all sides.
And there weren't many other rooms in the building that would have had
furniture like that next to the desk: a keyboard stand with a small
synthesizer, a pair of boxy guitar amps, a beautiful old Les Paul on a stand,
and a hideously-customized old Rickenbacker bass beside it, a sort of
"American Gothic" with guitars instead of the old farmer and his wife.
    The bunk bed was occupied, top and bottom, and gentle breathing could
be heard from both of the beds. Up top, two bodies were intertwined under the
thick blanket, sleeping the sleep of the beloved. Down below, a single body
was stretched out and gently snoring, head thrown back on the thick pillow,
arms and legs akimbo. Suddenly, a tiny rustling motion came from beneath the
blanket on the lower bunk. A small, moving lump appeared under the blanket,
slowly and laboriously moving across to the edge of the bed. At the edge, it
hesitated, trembling, then cautiously nosed out from under the covers.
    The Bandit's penis was going exploring.
    It looked to the left and right, carefully sniffing the air for
anything out of the ordinary and listening for any strange sound that might
mean trouble. Satisfied at last, it gathered itself carefully, and jumped
lightly down onto the carpet, glans first. It was an undignified way to land,
that was for certain, but it knew from experience that it was a hell of a lot
nicer than landing on its balls. It scrambled upright and immediately scurried
to the protection of the bass on its stand, in case someone might see it. It
paused for a minute or two, waiting anxiously for that fatal gasp or scream in
the darkness. None came.
    Relieved, the Bandit's penis began to explore its surroundings in
somewhat greater comfort. It paused to lovingly stroke the bottom of the bass
with its head, luxuriating in the feel of the cool, smooth lacquered wood
against its skin. God, it loved that instrument! It always wished that the
Bandit would play it naked one of these days, so it could feel the bass's body
resonating against it without the Bandit's thrice-damned pants in the way. The
insistent throb of the deep, powerful notes was so erotic, and there it was,
stuffed into a pair of BVDs while the Bandit got to have all the fun!
Sometimes life just wasn't fair.
    The Les Paul was nearby, gleaming black in the night. The Bandit's
penis gazed up at it a bit fearfully, and wondered if Zero's penis felt the
same way about the guitar that it did about the bass. It would have to ask,
someday, but frankly it doubted if it had the courage to put forth the
question. The Bandit's penis was terrified of Zero's. So was every other penis
in the building. Or anywhere else on the campus, for that matter. The Bandit's
penis shivered at the thought of meeting it out here in the dark....
    The penis looked up at the synthesizer, and wondered at the flat black
metal of its base. It was a strange one, that box. It shrieked, moaned, wailed
and thundered. A lot like Diva when she was coming, actually. The Bandit's
penis chuckled at that one; Diva made him laugh more often than not.
    Diva. The Bandit's penis turned around and squinted up through the dim
light at the upper bunk. There, perilously near the edge, was a blanketed
back, wide and gently curved, and a generous pair of buttocks clearly outlined
beneath the fabric. Zero was a lucky guy, that was for sure. She was smart,
talented, friendly...well, to most people. The Bandit's penis shrank a bit as
she thought of the looks Diva gave the Bandit. Why doesn't she like him, it
wondered. He sure likes her well enough. Hmm, maybe that's the problem. Well,
it's not my place to advise him on such things. Onward!
    The Bandit's penis sauntered under the music stand, and clambered into
the closet. There was the Bandit's old laundry bag, smelling of sweat, and
dirt, and.... Suddenly the penis stopped, stiffening, and sniffed deeply at
the bag. Good Lord above, it thought, there's a pair of panties in there! Now
who in the heck--
    Oh. Right. Silly of me.
    The Bandit's penis wilted completely and slumped into a dejected heap.
Oh, damn, it wailed, why'd I have to find those? She probably put them in
there to be cleaned, the last night they slept together, and he hasn't given
them back yet. Damn!
    It thought miserably of the wonderful warm nights through the winter
that the Bandit had spent with Teenie, before she'd broken up with him and
left him alone and cold and miserable and horny and frustrated and.... it
could remember every inch of her, her long lustrous black hair with the
glorious red highlights that took her forever to comb, her wonderful firm lips
that the Bandit wasn't allowed to kiss too hard because she'd be too sore to
play the clarinet, her beautiful breasts with their rosy-pink nipples and
virtually nothing else to them, her slim, tight torso with the razor-sharp hip
bones, her-- The Bandit's penis sat up again. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing
that she left after all, it decided. The Bandit can do better. I hope.
    It hopped down from the closet and waddled comically along the wall,
past the dressers and mirror and back toward the bed. Ah, it's wonderful to
get out and about in the cool and quiet of night! Pity the poor female, whose
privates never get out to see the world and get a bit of exercise. It did a
few somersaults, just for fun, and rolled over to the foot of the bed. The
first faint light of the rising sun was starting to tinge the stark yellow of
the lights outside, and it glanced at the luminous dial of the alarm clock
nearby to see what time it was.
    It read 6:57.
    The Bandit's penis was glad it didn't have any vocal cords, because it
would've screamed blue murder right then. Three minutes to seven? Dear GOD!
    Frantically it waddled over to the end of the bed, cursing the pain in
its balls. A lot like walking on sore feet, it supposed. Really sore feet,
that is. The bedclothes were loose and dangling almost to the floor, as usual;
fortunately the Bandit was a pretty sloppy hand at making beds. It strained
upward, and just managed to hook itself in the little cusp of the partially-
tucked blanket. With a mighty heave, it levered itself up to the level of the
matress. For a split second, it lost its balance, and teetered on the edge of
the bed, visions of a long fall right onto its balls playing grotesquely in
its terrified imagination, but it recovered itself with a desperate lunge and
lay panting for a few moments. The lump under the covers quickly shuffled up
the length of the bed, between the sprawlingly spread legs, and stopped.
    For perhaps a half minute, all was still.
    Then the alarm clock began to blare heavy metal music at an ungodly
volume, silenced a moment later by a groggily-aimed fist smashing down on the
SNOOZE button. The Bandit remained frozen in midreach for a moment, body half
raised from the matress, then collapsed back into bed.
    Above him, he heard a moan, a light kiss, indecipherable whispers.
Then a pair of shapely legs appeared over the edge of the bed, followed by a
meaty but well-rounded pair of buttocks, demurely clad in purple panties. With
a graceless thump, Diva dropped to the carpet and hastily began to dress. She
didn't turn around; the Bandit was watching her, and she knew he was watching
her, and what was worst, HE knew that she knew that he was watching her and
that wasn't stopping him.
    Another pair of legs, much skinnier and covered with hair, appeared at
the foot of the bed, and ingerly turned around, hunting for footing. Zero
climbed down to floor level, muttering, "Morning, Bandit. Sleep well?"
    "No," the Bandit responded. "Not at all." He scratched his groin and
swung his legs out from under the covers, smacking his lips distastefully at
the awful layer of perdition in his mouth. He blinked, trying to remember the
fragments of something very near, yet too nebulous to touch.
    "I'm never going to sleep on a full stomach again," he vowed wearily.
"Pizza with mushrooms and onions gives you the WEIRDEST dreams!"

        PART ONE: some introductions

Late January 1982

    "I don't want to start like that. And again...two, three, four...."
    "Hold it, HOLD IT!" The Bandit held up a hand and waved frantically,
making disgusted faces. Zero raised an eyebrow at the spastic diplay, but
willingly shut off the tape recorder.
    "Something the matter?"
    "YES, God damn your oversized beak!" The Bandit glared furiously at
Zero, fists on hips.
    Zero selfconsciously rubbed the bridge of his nose, which was quite
frankly a tremendously outsized appendage for the face upon which it rested, a
bit of Cherokee ancestry that wouldn't have been out of place on a nickel.
    "What is it? And calm down, you look like you're about to explode."
    "You promised me NO cliches and NO stuff stolen from other people!"
    "Well, of course not," Zero replied, looking hurt. "But we haven't
even started playing yet...."
    "You know damn well what I mean!" The Bandit rewound the tape, still
glaring at Zero. "That 'I don't wanna start like that' line is straight off of
a Robert Fripp song! Now, NO FRIPP!"
    "It is? Oh, so it is." Zero scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.
"It's from the prologue of his first album, isn't it? The one that leads
into--"
    "No, don't start! DON'T START! Or you'll set me off and we won't get
ANYTHING recorded!" The Bandit waved him to silence. Zero grinned at him, and
began to play a lightning series of guitar chords, his hands moving in an
inhuman blur. The Bandit was reaching to turn off the amp, when the door
opened and Diva stuck her head in.
    "What on Earth are you two DOING?"
    The Bandit stopped dead in his tracks, his scowl deepening. One thing
I don't need right now, he thought grimly, is the Diva on my case. As Zero
came to the turnaround, the Bandit kicked in the drumbox at an earshattering
volume, and spun around to face her with a wide grin as he joined Zero in the
song. To hell with composing, he thought gleefully. I'd rather torture Diva
any day!

    "You burn me up, I'm a Cigarette,
    Take hold of my hand and I begin to sweat
    You make me nervous, oo woo, I'm nervous
    This must be real bad karma for this to be my dharma
    With you-woo-woo...."

    Diva looked irritable, as she always did when the Bandit ever said
anything to her, and began to back out of the room. Suddenly another face
appeared behind hers, blocking the way as she tried to look into the room.
Twink, trying to be heard over the din, cried, "What's the name of--"
    The Bandit's gorge catapulted into his throat at the sight of her, and
his grin turned demonic as he aimed the next verse down her throat like a
whaling gaff.

    "You burn me up I'm a cigarette,
    Life with you is a losing bet
    You drive me crazy, eeyow, I'm going CRAZY!
    Musical elation is my only consolation
    From you-woo-woo!"

    Twink bit her lip and backed off, reddening, and Diva hustled out of
the room behind her, the slamming door unnoticed in the chorus.

    "Strategic interaction irreducible fraction
    Terminal inaction from a bitter hostile faction
    I'm getting anxious
    I'm FRANXIOUS
    Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases We...."

    It took another verse or two for the song to wind down, by which time
the pounding on the door was enough to wake the dead. The Bandit was laughing
like a lunatic, and Zero's normally placid smile was a good deal wider than it
should have been, as they set down their instruments and opened the door.
    "Eeee, yessssss?" The Bandit asked, opening the door and batting his
eyelashes like Bugs Bunny in drag.
    Conan gave the Bandit a big grin, and said, "Quiet or I'll kill you."
He flexed every muscle in his magnificent torso for emphasis. The Bandit,
who'd seen it all before, just yawned.
    "Oh, hello, Conan," Zero volunteered. "Come to sit in?"
    "I've come to squash you both like rotten grapes beneath my feet,"
Conan replied goodnaturedly. "Either you turn it down to a civilized level or
you get forcefed your guitars."
    "Some people are so touchy," The Bandit lamented.
    "It's our punishment for rooming with heathen," Zero agreed. "What do
they know about art, anyway?" He turned off the beatbox and the amp, sighing.
    Mollified, Conan turned on his heel and stalked back across the living
room to the other double bedroom in the quad. He gingerly stepped over Starch,
Lanky, Plaids, and Mimosa, who were sitting and listening raptly to the
Rainbow Wizard, who was holding forth from his beanbag chair with one arm
gently caressing the smooth curve of Mary Magdalene's hip. As he shut the
door, the Rainbow Wizard called after him, "Thanks for quieting them down,
Conan. We couldn't hear ourselves think."
    "I didn't shut them up for your sake," Conan replied easily. "I need
to get some sleep before the graveyard shift." His door slammed.
    "Most people CAN'T hear themselves think, Wiz," the Bandit said, his
appetite for music suddenly gone. "Just because *you* can, don't assume that
it's vital to everyone else. Besides, who wants to listen to grinding gears
anyway?"
    "That's unnecessary!" Lanky said indignantly, sweeping a long trail of
black hair out of his eyes, his neckbell jingling as he moved.
    "I just got finished *saying* that," the Bandit retorted. "Especially
when he can *smell* himself think at the same time! Peeyew! I nearly called
the Fire Department; it smelled like a short in the stereo!"
    Zero made it a point never to get involved in the wrangling between
the Bandit and the Wiz, but he knew when points were scored. He let his smile
widen a bit, which was a real outpouring of emotion for him. Mary Magdalene
actually smiled, though, and *that* was a major tactical victory for the
Bandit.
    The Bandit saw the smile, and nodded, hastily reaching for his coat.
"Let's call it quits for a bit, Zero; it's getting way too stupid for me in
here."
    "Right behind you, kemosabe," Zero replied, fetching his coat and
scarf from the closet.
    The Rainbow Wizard sighed loudly, half in anger at the Bandit's
attitude, half in relief in getting him out of his hair for a while, but Lanky
wasn't letting the Bandit get off that easily. "You ought to try listening
rather than poking fun once in a while, Bandit. You might learn something.
Wouldn't that be a shame?"
    "Every Messiah needs his Antichrist, Lanky m'boy," the Bandit said
gaily, zipping up his jacket. "Otherwise, who'd the Faithful have to blame
for their troubles?" He turned and headed out the door, Zero behind him.
    "Bandit?"
    The low, throbbing voice grabbed him by the crotch and did its best to
spin him around and pull him back, penis first. The Bandit's back was turned
to the others, so nobody saw the flash of emotion in his face. Was it anger,
fear, or just lust?
    He turned around casually, his face a neutral mask. "Yo?"
    Mary Magdalene gave him her best smile, asking, "Don't you wear the
neckbell I gave you? Even Zero and Diva wear theirs...."
    The Bandit looked sidelong at Zero, and gave him a poke in the chest.
No jingle, however muffled, answered the poke. "They do?"
    Zero smiled at Mary Magdalene and said softly, "We keep ours at Diva's
place. No real use in wearing them around here."
    "But a neckbell is meant to be worn, and to be used, when you feel
lonely or left out!" Mary Magdalene jingled hers lightly, and was instantly
rewarded with a kiss from the Rainbow Wizard.
    "Not a problem," Zero said mildly.
    "Don't feel badly, Mary-Mag," the Bandit said with a raffish grin. "I
wear mine all the time. See?" He reached under his coat and hauled out the
tiny brass neckbell on its braided chain. He shook it gently.
    It didn't make a sound.
    The Bandit grinned at her look of confusion, and said, "I pulled out
the clapper. 'Bye, now!" The door slammed on five shocked looks.
    "Ain't I a stinker?" The Bandit grinned.
    "The absolute pits, kemosabe," Zero agreed. "That was *really* low."
    The pair bundled up as they walked down the hall to the stairwell, and
down the few steps to the side door. "It was worth it," the Bandit said,
straightening his beret. "The look on that pompous shit's face...."
    "You really hurt Mary Magdalene's feelings, though," Zero reminded
him. "The Wiz wasn't the one who gave you that bell; *she* was."
    "For her cold borscht my heart bleeds," the Bandit growled. "If the
world depended on my concern for her feelings, Ronnie woulMessage from lindacarcs200-2.uoregon. 200-2.uoregon....
d've dropped the
bomb on Andropov already."
    "Oh, really," Zero said mildly. "And what happened to all that stuff
about 'God, she's beautiful' and 'I wish she'd at least pay attention to me'
and so on and so forth?"
    "Past history," the Bandit replied with ice in his voice. "I met her
two years ago, before either you or the Wiz started here, and I will freely
admit that she knocked me flat on my ass. But she ended up getting into this
soulmate stuff with the Wiz before I had a chance with her, and for that I owe
him a big debt of gratitude."
    "You? Owe the Wizard *anything*? Why, for Set's sake?"
    "Because in rooming with the Wiz, which seemed like a damned good idea
at the time, please forgive me--"
    "Long since forgiven. Say on."
    "--I had a chance to see what's going on inside her head. Man, it is
*scary* in there!"
    "There are crazier people in Arcadia, Bandit."
    "I'm not so sure. That woman's in her own little fairy kingdom!"
    The hard-packed snow crunched under their boots as they made their way
across the gleaming white expanses of the Eastern Quadrangle, past the Virgin
Vault, the Roach Motel, and the Lovepile. Up ahead, Scum Central was already
surrounded by a growing crowd of students, filing in for dinner.
    "Don't worry your pointed little skull about it, Zero," the Bandit
said mildly, kicking the snow from his boots and shivering as he stepped
across the threshold. "I'm leaving well enough alo--HEY! TEENIE!"
    The skinny young girl by the coat rack looked up like a frightened
deer, terror in her eyes. She took a half step back as the Bandit came over to
her, smiling.
    "H--hi, Bandit." Her voice was a dry whisper.
    "Hello, sweetheart. Just going in to dinner?"
    "Just coming out." She grabbed her coat from the rack, and shouldered
into it hastily. "I have to get over to the rehearsal hall...."
    "Hey, hold on a second!" The Bandit's forearm came up, barring her
escape. "You've been avoiding me every chance you've had fHiya sweetie!  I'm looking forward to the weekend!
EOF
or nearly a month
now. When you said you didn't want to see me any more, I let you go with no
questions asked, and frankly I have been *miserable* since then. I love you
and I miss you! Couldn't you at least give me an explanation?"
    "Just leave me alone." Teenie pushed past him, not meeting his eyes.
He watched her hurry into the snow, his eyes tortured.
    Zero, who'd been standing nearby, shook his head. "Bad karma, bro'."
    "No shit," the Bandit muttered, his eyes still on the doorway. "What
the hell's got her so spooked?"
    "No clue," Zero said mildly, doffing his coat.
    "Multitudinous thanks for essentially nada," the Bandit snapped.
    "Mellow out. You'll be so wound up we won't be able to play after
dinner. Just calm down and relax, okay?"
    The Bandit glared at Zero for a moment, then sighed, his expression
softening. "Yeah, okay. You're right." He walked over to the entryway and ran
his data card through the debit machine, then took a place in the food line.
"It could be worse," he said philosophically. "I could have to eat with--"
    "HEEYOW! ZERO THE GUITAR HERO AND THE DREADED BANDIT!"
    The yell split the calm murmur in the cafeteria like a knife. Zero
winced, and the Bandit rolled his eyes, finishing his sentence.
    "--Livewire."
    A curly-headed spring of raw energy uncoiled itself in a long leap
over the decorative planters dividing the line from the eating area. One
trailing foot caught the edge of a planter, toppling it and scattering dirt
across a wide swath of carpet. Livewire didn't even look behind him as the
plant hit the floor with a rustling crash, his grin from ear to ear as he gave
first Zero, then the Bandit, a food-spilling whack on the back.
    "Heyyy, how you guys doin, nice to see ya, listen, I got us a big
table over in the corner with lotsa seats, look for us over there it'll be a
kick, see you soon gotta get back my burger's getting cold, hurry it up!"
    Another leap and he was gone. Zero shook his head in awe. "What a
marvelous human being," he said with a smile. "Utterly untroubled by anything
resembling common sense. It's a miracle he's survived to adolescence!"
    "Be still my heart," the Bandit sighed. "More indigestion tonight."
    "Hey! Bandit?"
    The Bandit winced at the familiar voice, then plastered on a smile as
Twink came over, a glass of something in her hand. The Bandit glanced at it.
Milk. Just plain old white milk. Typical.
    "Need a place to sit? I'd just love your company," Twink cooed, her
voice a poor imitation of Mary Magdalene's. "It'll give you a chance to make
up for how rude you were over at the dorm." She tossed her blonde hair out of
her eyes and gave him what she must have thought was a demure look, but came
off more like a cartoon caricature of a whore's leer.
    The Bandit's speech centers suffered a severe lockup as eighteen
suitable rejoinders arrived at his larynx simultaneously and shorted each
other out, and he glared at her.
    Then, suddenly, he smiled.
    "You wouldn't happen to be sitting with Livewire, would you?"
    She smiled brightly at his softened tone. "No! I'm all alone by
myself. But if you want, we could move over there! Livewire's there, with Diva
and Bone and Thunder and--"
    "No, that's all right," the Bandit said hastily. "I'd *love* a nice,
quiet meal with you. You go on ahead, Zero; I'll see you after dinner."
    Zero looked at him, then at Twink, then over at the waiting delights
of the corner table, where Bone and Thunder were joking with Livewire, and
Diva was casting him pleading looks. He shrugged. "Okay."
    "Great! This way," Twink said, leading the Bandit to a small table for
two in the Annex, her hips weaving from side to side in a carefully practiced
imitation of Diva's sexy wiggle.
    He found himself eyeing the shift and ripple of her buttocks as she
walked, and shook his head violently. If the Ultimate Ditz is giving you a
hard-on, kid, he told himself grimly, then you are in BAD shape.

        PART TWO: Various bedtimes

Early February 1982

    The Bandit rubbed his eyes and put down the book, tucking his pen in
it for a bookmark. He sighed gustily and looked at the closed door to the
living room. Muffled sounds of conversation were coming from outside,
interspersed with shouts of raucous laughter: Conan, having some fun at the
expense of one of the Wiz's folks, no doubt. There was no sign of Zero; it was
becoming obvious that he'd be spending tonight in Diva's room. Bummer.
    On impulse, the Bandit walked swiftly to his cassette rack and
withdrew an album that he almost never played any more. He popped it into the
deck, pulled on his headphones, and began to disrobe.

    "Oh very young, what will you leave us this time?
    You're only dancing on this Earth for a short while,
    And though your dreams may toss and turn you now...."

    "Come to bed, liebchen," Diva smiled, stretching out languidly on the
narrow mattress. Her body wasn't a pin-up artist's wet dream by any means: a
bit heavy in the hips and thighs, just a hint of a double chin. But her heavy
breasts and sinuous torso had an appeal all their own, as did the tawny patch
of hair just above her swollen labia.
    She licked her lips. "I'm thirsty."
    Zero smiled at her as he undid the buckle on his belt and dropped his
pants to the floor. His straining underwear was stretched even more out of
shape than usual, and he walked over to her and waved the huge bulge in front
of her as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I can go get you a glass of water from the
bathroom," he offered politely. "Or did you have something else in mind?"
    "Hmmmm...." She rolled over onto her side, facing him and propping up
her head on one elbow. She licked her lips again, reaching out with her free
hand and giving the waistband of his underpants a tiny tug. The huge,
throbbing mass under the cloth shifted position and tried frantically to
escape, but didn't quite make it. She laughed lightly at the spectacle, and
ran a caressing hand over the scarcely-covered testicles, weighing them
gently. With another gentle tug, she finally pulled the waistband over the
tremendous obstruction keeping his underwear on, and the pants fell to the
ground.
    Zero's penis was a terrifying club of throbbing meat dangling in her
face, as big around as a kolbassi and nearly ten inches long. It was the kind
of penis one tended to see in porn flicks, the sort of equipment that always
seemed to belong to the men submitting their life histories to the Penthouse
Forum. Most of the men who saw it coming out of the shower or in the locker
room turned pale and got very quiet, suddenly selfconscious. Even Conan, who
was put together like a stunt double for Arnold Schwarzenegger, said of it,
"All that meat on that skinny little guy.... it's just not fair! He probably
can't even manage a hard-on without passing out!"
    That obviously wasn't the case, as Diva could readily attest. It was
true, the weight of the organ was such that it never stood up at more than a
horizontal position even when fully hard, but that didn't matter to her. All
that mattered was where it went, and what it did when it got there. She stuck
her tongue out as far as it would go, and licked the underside of the shaft,
from the base to the tip of the swollen purple glans, and smacked her lips
delightedly. "Finger me," she said, "Finger me while I suck you dry."
    Zero slid a teasing hand down the length of her belly and over her
pubic mound, searching for her clitoris. It was already oozing and swollen as
he touched it; there was no question but that she'd been playing with it
already before he'd gotten in. She was in no mood to waste time that night, he
decided, and proceeded to slide two fingers into her slick crack as deeply as
they could go. Diva grunted loudly, gently caught the huge head of the bobbing
member between her parted lips, and teased the slit with the tip of her
tongue, tasting the sticky pre-come there. His fingers were finishing her work
of the past three hours, and she felt her orgasm surging up in her like a wave
of molten lead. She smiled around the huge knob between her lips, looked up at
Zero with wide blue eyes like a child asking for praise, and inhaled sharply.
    It had taken months of practice with dildoes, but she'd learned to
relax her throat muscles and take his entire penis down her throat without
gagging, a trick none of his old girlfriends could ever have matched. It made
him her slave; he couldn't say no to her loving mouth, and the fact that the
act made him seem the dominant one only put a touch of kink in the total
control she exercised. But tonight she was too close to coming to bother with
teasing him. Her strong inhalation sucked the entire pulsing member into her
waiting mouth and down her throat, all the way down to the base. She heaved up
on the bed, hands on his buttocks, scrotum flapping rhythmically against her
dripping chin, and tried her best to swallow his penis whole. And when she
felt him hit bottom, she began to hum.
    That was all it took. Zero groaned and his legs shook as he dumped a
huge load of semen directly into her stomach, and her humming turned into a
confused series of muffled screams and gagging noises as she came all over his
hand, the warm flow of liquid in her belly sending her over the edge. Zero,
unable to endure the excess of stimulation, pulled his shaft from her mouth,
and she coughed up a thin stream of semen after it, a grey line that trickled
down her chin and onto her breast. She grabbed the still-rigid rod and pulled
as hard as she could, milking more fluid from it as she pulled him down atop
her and tried to feed his length into her sopping vagina.

    "Now that I've lost everything to you,
    You say you want to start something new,
    And it's breaking my heart, you're leaving,
    And baby I'm grieving...."

    Teenie stared at the ceiling in the darkness, arms at her sides, legs
tightly together. I wonder where he is tonight, she thought. Is he lonely?
Does he miss me? Or will he just haul out one of those disgusting magazines
from under the bed and pull on himself until he forgets about me? Probably.
That miserable son of a bitch. I did the right thing, leaving him.
    She rolled over and looked out the window at the drifting snow. It had
been snowing heavily for nearly a week now, and there was more to come. She
shivered. It was cold, even under her blankets. She frowned; it hadn't always
been this cold at night. But of course not; she'd had him in bed with her
then, cradling her in his arms and saying how he'd loved her....
    "Not tonight, Bandit. Please?"
    "Sure, sweetheart. Not if you don't want to. Sleep well."
    And that was all. No nasty hints, no pleas, no angry words or threats.
And later that night, when she was drifting in and out of sleep, she
remembered the sudden splash of something warm on her back, the gentle hand
that wiped away the stain, the kiss on her shoulder blade. He'd gotten what he
wanted anyway. He always did.
    "I don't miss him." She said it out loud to the dark. "He used me as a
sex object. I don't need him. The Rainbow Wizard was right. He just uses
people, and throws them away. I'm better off alone now. I am...."
    She rolled over again, and started suddenly to find a furtive hand
betwen her thighs. Angrily she moved her hand elsewhere, and firmly shut her
eyes. I'll say twenty Hail Marys tomorrow, she decided, and go to Confession.

    "Oh, I can't keep it in,
    I can't keep it in I gotta let it out,
    I gotta show the world, world's gotta see,
    See all the love, love that's in me...."

    Livewire staggered through the snow, singing to off-key to himself.
His breath was thick with beer and vomit, and the front of his parka was
stained. He fell forward into the snow and lay there, panting.
    I gotta get up. My face is cold, I got snow down my pants, man, that
really sucks serious dick. Shit. I'm tired. Maybe I should take a nap or some
shit, just rest a minute. I'll get up in a second. I'll count to three. I'll
count to ten. I'll count to three. One. two--
    "Whugghh," he said, scrambling to hands and knees and heaving beer and
half-digested hamburgers into the snow. He wiped his mouth with one hand and
got to his feet, weaving. Up ahead, through the snow, he could barely make out
the front of the Eastern Habitat. He stumbled forward wearily, one hand
outstretched before him. There were the front doors, up ahead, and there were
the steps, and there-- he unconsciously counted up four floors and over two
windows-- was HER window. SHE was asleep, looked like. Or she was fucking some
football player or some shit up there. Yeah! Fucking some football player
while he was stuck out here in the cold! Mother FUCKER!
    "MOTHER FUCKER! YOU BITCH! I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIEEEEEEEE---"
    Livewire went face down into the snow again, retching. At long last,
the last of the beer gone, he crawled up the steps and onto the porch. He got
one hand onto the door handle, and pulled feebly. The door hadn't latched
properly when the last resident had come in, and so it opened with a click. He
pulled himself inside, smiled happily at the warmth of the air as the door
shut and locked behind him, and finally, mercifully, passed out.

    "Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,
    Born of the one Light Eden saw play...."

    The Rainbow Wizard held Mary Magdalene in his lap, gently bouncing her
up and down, up and down. Her smooth, wet pussy alternately clasped and
released his manhood, and he gently suckled on her breast as she threw her
head back and sighed in utter ecstasy.
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    Their whispers were a litany of love under the ceiling poster of
astrological signs that served as a canopy for Mary Magdalene's bed. Unicorns
adorned every wall, and posters of fantasy heroes with swords and bloodied
shields hung on the door and beneath the window. A quartz crystal dangled
before the single lit candle in the room, casting multiple sparks of rainbow
light over the two intertwined bodies.
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    Over and over again, the words were repeated, chewed into meaningless
mantric syllables as the surges of sexual release ebbed and flowed forward,
surged up and receded, never allowing release, again and again and again....
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    Mary Magdalene felt the beginnings of his orgasm, the tightening in
his legs, the swelling in his loins, the thin sheen of sweat on his face. She
smiled at his expression, glad of his joy, and began to accelerate her
thrusts.
    "I LOVE you!"
    "I LOVE you!"
    "I LOVE you!"
    "I LOVE you!"
    Suddenly he tensed, his legs splaying outward, and gasped as his seed
filled her to the brim and overflowed, sweet, sticky, glowing faintly in the
dim light. The hot fluid scalded her insides, bringing on a sudden orgasm for
her as well, swift, sharp as a dagger, and as suddenly gone.
    "I--ugh--LOVE YOU!"
    "UH! AH! I LOVE YOUUUUUUU....."
    She fell forward across him, her carpet of black hair extinguishing
the candle, and kissed the long scar from his collarbone to his groin as he
fell into a deep sleep. Lovingly, with a worshiper's care, she lapped up the
softly glowing semen from his shrinking penis, licking it clean, then snuggled
up against him in the darkness. Her final whisper was a benediction.
    "I love you...."

    "Now that I've passed your test,
    How could I lie to you baby, I'll never make you sad...."

    Twink laughed merrily, clutching her sides and rolling on the floor at
Conan's latest joke. Of course, she hadn't "gotten" it, at least she she
didn't think she had, but she'd learned it was safer to pretend. When she
asked what things meant, people always groaned and looked funny at her, and
that was no fun at all.
    Wiping her eyes, she got to her feet, and said, "Oh, Conan, that was a
scream! I love hearing your jokes."
    "Great," Conan grinned, knowing damn well that she was trying to hide
the fact that she was totally clueless. God damn, what a total airhead! How
could anyone get as far as she did without learning *something* about what was
what, anyway?
    "Is the Bandit coming back soon?" She phrased the question as casually
as she could.
    "He's already asleep," Conan replied, inclining his head toward the
closed door to the room the Bandit shared with Zero.
    "Oh!" Twink got up hastily, smoothing the skirt of her nightdress.
"Then I guess I should be going; I just wanted to talk to him, that's why I
came down here...."
    "Well, there's me. Why don't you stick around for a while?" Conan
smiled winningly and stretched, flexing his muscles.
    Twink looked into his eyes, her smile a frozen mask. She was
remembering the last time she'd stayed around with Conan to wait for the
Bandit: the dark, sweaty room, the awful, awful....THING stretching her poor
mouth out of shape, the taste of mucus and something else, his voice: "Don't
use your teeth, you stupid bitch! SUCK on it, don't try to chew it up!"
    "Thanks," she said with feeling, "But I'd die first." She cast one
longing look at the shut door keeping her from the Bandit, and fled into the
hallway.
    Conan watched her leave, sighing. Women, he thought to himself. What a
fucked-up species. He opened the door to his half of the quad, and noted that
neither the Rainbow Wizard nor Mary Magdalene was anywhere to be found. He
sighed again. Well, he thought, dropping his pants, at least I can beat off
without having to listen to them whisper sweet nothings to each other all
night. Now where'd I leave that copy of Hustler?

    "Another Saturday night, and I ain't got nobody,
    I got some money 'cause I just got paid,
    How I wish I had someone to talk to,
    I'm in an awful way."

    The Bandit pulled off the headphones angrily and hurled them across
the room. "Fuck that shit," he muttered, rolling over and closing his eyes.
    Across the room, the cassette deck finished playing the album in a
soft whir, and calmly shut itself off.



        PART 3: Valentine's Day (just after midnight)

Mid-February 1982

    The Bandit and Zero kicked the dirty grey snow off of their boots and
walked up the steps of the East Habitat. A quick ping of a security card in
the lock, and the door sighed open, brushing a warm breeze across their faces
from inside. They walked out of the dark and into the central lounge,
gratefully unzipping their coats. The usual late-night gang was there, Thud
holding court like a king in the chair by the coffee machine and dealing a
hand from his everpresent cribbage deck to Lanky and Plaids. Conan was
sprawled out on the couch, reading a paperback, and the notes of an acoustic
guitar wafted gently through the air as the Rainbow Wizard played a love song
for Mary Magdalene on a nearby stretch of carpet.
    "Hi, Zero, Bandit," Thud said pleasantly. "Cribbage?"
    "Nope," Zero smiled. "Against my faith."
    "What faith?" Thud sneered at him. "You're an agnostic, a Crowleyite,
or worse yet, a Satanist."
    "True." Zero collapsed on the couch with a sigh.
    Thud gave up. "Bandit?"
    "No thanks, Thudlike. I'm on a diet."
    "Suit yourself. I'm just worried about how long I can hold onto these
two. They just have no stamina! I mean, we've only played--"
    "Twenty-one games," Lanky groaned.
    "Twenty-two," Plaids corrected him. He got up, stretching, and stalked
off toward his room. "I quit." Lanky took the opportunity to make his escape
as well, leaving Thud alone, the cribbage hand half dealt to no one.
    "See what you did? Now what am I going to do?" Thud said angrily.
    The Bandit smiled innocently. "Play Solotaire."
    "You're the expert on games one plays alone," Thud replied
caustically.
    "Ouch. I left myself wide open for that," The Bandit laughed. He
looked over at Conan, and asked, "Good book?"
    Conan didn't look up. "Yup."
    "What's it about?"
    "I'm reading it for my Twentieth Century Literature class as an
elective," Conan said, eyes on the text. "I think the professor will get a
kick out of my report."
    The Bandit leaned over and looked at the book cover. His wide mouth
split into a grin. "Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor?"
    Conan didn't say a word; he only looked over at the Bandit and winked.
    Meanwhile, Zero had wandered over to where the Rainbow Wizard was
finishing another song for Mary Magdalene. After the song had ended and Mary
Magdalene was thanking the Rainbow Wizard with a kiss, he cleared his throat
politely. "Uh, c'n I borrow that for a moment, Wiz?"
    "Mmmmmm," the Wizard said, pulling off the guitar awkwardly so as not
to break the kiss. He set the guitar down beside him, and threw both arms
around Mary Magdalene, bearing her down to the carpet on her back.
    "Thanks," Zero said.
    "Mmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard said.
    "Mmmmmm," Mary Magdalene agreed. "Mmmm. Mmmmmm, mm mmmm!"
    "Mmmmmmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard managed with a muffled laugh. "Mmmm
mm mmm mmmmmm mm mmmmm mmmmmm, mm mmmmmmm...."
    The conversation continued in that vein, broken by giggles on
occasion. Mary Magdalene rolled the Rainbow Wizard over onto his back, and
began to slowly rub herself up and down against his thigh. The others in the
lounge watched in fascination as her movements grew more and more obvious in
their intent.
    Thud gaped. "Public fornication! That's DISGUSTING!"
    Conan laughed quietly to himself. "Mary Magdalene in heat again? Now
THAT'S disgusting!"
    The Bandit looked over at the two lovers cavorting at Zero's feet
while he nonchalantly tuned the guitar, and found his mouth going dry. Oh,
man, he thought. That lucky bastard. If only it could have been me....
    He forced boredom into his voice. "Here we go again."
    "No, dear boy," Thud corrected him with a sepulchural grin, "There
THEY go again. You, alas, have no place in the matter."
    "Thanks for nothing." The Bandit looked away with an effort, picked up
the cards, and dealt himself a hand of Solotaire.
    "Remember that playing with oneself is a sin, dear boy," Thud smiled.
    "I just wish you'd make up your mind, Thud," the Bandit muttered.
"Either join the Priesthood, or decide you're gay. But don't sit on the
fence, you're driving us all crazy!"
    "I promise I'll make up my mind before I leave school," Thud said
with a placid, pious smile. He turned to watch Zero play, and the Bandit
risked looking in the direction of the two thrashing bodies on the floor to
better hear the music.
    Zero was shy by nature, and rarely played in public, but his little
concerts drew more than their share of gossip. Every rock band on the campus
wanted him as a lead guitarist, for his blinding speed and perfect
articulation had become legendary. "If Mr. Spock played guitar," the Bandit
was fond of saying, "He'd sound like Zero." Doing his best to ignore the moans
of Mary Magdalene, who was obviously doing HER best to come as quietly as
possible on the Rainbow Wizard's thigh, Zero torched his way through seven
songs in seven minutes, including two famous pop tunes, a Villa-Lobos guitar
concerto excerpt, two songs by the Bandit, one of his own tunes, and just to
finish things with a flourish, a raunched-up version of one of the Wiz's love
ballads.  Thud and the Bandit applauded as he bowed and took off the guitar,
and Conan tore himself away from the Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor long enough
to make clapping motions with the paperback and his free hand. Zero, grinning
with pride, looked down at the people on the floor beside him.
    His smile died. The Rainbow Wizard was cradling Mary Magdalene in his
arms, whispering in her ear as she sighed in the glow of post-orgasmic peace
and snuggled against his shoulder. They hadn't even looked at him.
    Zero looked outraged for the barest fraction of a second. Then he saw
the Bandit's wide grin out of the corner of his eye, and smiled sheepishly,
putting down the guitar next to Mary Magdalene.
    "That was wonderful!"
    He looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, low and alluring.
Every other man in the room turned around as well; there was something in that
voice that demanded attention.
    She was standing behind Zero, carrying a battered old guitar case in
one hand and brushing her hair back from her eyes with the other. She was
small, perhaps five feet two, with the lithe curves of a gymnast ill-disguised
by the flimsy blouse she wore. The Bandit's gaze flicked over her in a
practiced instant: tight, well-worn jeans with a patch over the crotch, strong
legs, light from the window behind her outlining her torso through the shirt,
and the particular jiggle and barely noticable tenting of the fabric that
bespoke small, slightly pointed breasts and no bra to hide the nipples. Her
eyes were blue and wide like a child's, and her freckled face was scrubbed
clean of makeup. She tucked a wayward strand of wavy brown hair behind one
ear, and continued, "I wish I could play like that...."
    Zero looked into her eyes, and came to an instant decision. "A lot of
people do," he said pleasantly, and turned away from her, walking out of the
lounge. She watched him go, her eyes puzzled.
    "Oh, don't mind him," the Bandit said hurriedly, getting up from the
couch and striding over to her. "He just gets nervous when people compliment
him, that's all. Say, I haven't seen you around here before. Did you just move
in?"
    She smiled at him, revealing tiny dimples. "Yes. I just transferred
here from Crystal City. This is my first semester. I'm called Flower."
    "I'll just bet you are," the Bandit grinned. "And I am the one and
only Bandit. At your service, madam!" He took her proffered hand and kissed
it.
    She withdrew the hand gently, smiling. "Pleased," she said.
    The Bandit's grin grew even wider, if that were possible. He waved to
the assemblage in the lounge. "My merry men," he said. "Thud, Conan on the
couch there with the Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor, and, uh, oh, yes! These two
shameless exhibitionists at your feet are our very own Do-it-Yourself Messiah,
the Rainbow Wizard, and HIS very own Mary Magdalene."
    "Messiah?" She looked over as the Rainbow Wizard got to his feet,
drawing up Mary Magdalene beside him with one strong arm around her waist.
She smiled up at him. "I've never met a real Messiah before. Do you work
miracles?"
    "When I'm not being trodden down by the unfaithful," the Rainbow
Wizard smiled, "I can do almost anything. Welcome to the East Habitat." He
bowed to her. She dimpled prettily and gave him a mock curtsy, and the
Bandit suddenly felt like the fifth wheel on a Continental: not good for much,
and hanging on for the ride. It's that goddamned Wizard thing again, he
thought disgustedly. Why the hell does HE have to attract the pretty ones
all the damn time?
    Flower turned to Mary Magdalene, and said, "it must be terribly
exciting, having your own Messiah. How did you manage to do it?"
    Mary Magdalene smiled, but there was something in that smile that
wasn't the orgasm. "I was," she said archly, "In the right place at the right
time."
    There was silence for a few moments as several different thoughts went
through several different heads.
    MY tits never look that good without a bra on, Mary Magdalene thought
worriedly, and how the hell does she keep her hips so slim? It's a good thing
I know the Wizard, or I'd be really worried....
    This, thought the Rainbow Wizard, is a woman to get to know better.
    Nice hair, thought Flower. Seriously good smile, too. But she's too
heavy and she doesn't take care of herself. And not only does she know it, but
he knows it, too! Oh, mama, Crystal City was NOTHING compared to what I'm
gonna do to Arcadia!
    Wow, man, serious tit action here, Conan thought. Wonder if the Wiz'll
let me tear off a piece once he adds her to his little harem?
    Thud was watching Mary Magdalene's eyes. This is going to be very
ugly, he thought to himself. I wonder how stable MaryMag is these days? If she
gets too iffy, then POW! Catfight! Break out the body oil and the video
camera!
    The Bandit, forgotten in an instant, decided that sterner measures
were necessary. "Uh, listen," he said, "We'll be getting together tomorrow to
do some playing. Zero and I, I mean. Would you like to join us?"
    Flower had obviously come to the conclusion that the Rainbow Wizard
was more worth knowing than Zero. "Maybe later," she said, scarcely looking at
the Bandit. "I want to play some guitar duets right now." She looked over at
the Rainbow Wizard and smiled. "If you don't mind, that is."
    "Not at all," he said. "Will you teach me some new songs?"
    "If you'll teach me a couple," she replied guilelessly.
    "Great! We can take turns playing," Mary Magdalene said brightly. "I
love playing duets." She smiled pleasantly at Flower, her eyes hard as flint.
Flower gave her the sort of smile one gives an adorable young child who's just
brought home a live snake as a pet.
    "We'll make it a trio, then," the Rainbow Wizard said, fishing in his
pocket for his room key. "Why don't you go get my other guitar from my room,
dear?"
    "Okay!" Mary Magdalene's desire to please the Wizard overruled her her
suspicions, and she skipped off toward their room. The Bandit watched her go,
thinking, too trusting to live. Jesus!
    "Well, I guess I'll be leaving," the Bandit said uncomfortably. "You
should stop by our place when you get a chance...."
    "Oh, I'd love to," Flower said hastily, remembering her manners. "I'd
love to hear what you and, er, Zero do."
    The Bandit managed a weak grin. "Well, we--"
    "YO! BANDIT! HEY, WIZ my MAIN MAN! Whuss happening, people?"
    The Bandit winced. Please, he thought, O merciful God, not now, not
while there's some faint shred of hope....
    Livewire threw a corded arm about the Bandit's shoulders and squeezed
hard enough to dislocate his collarbone. "Howya DOIN' my MAN!" He caught sight
of Flower for the first time, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"Well, hell-LO there, pretty lady," he said in his best Rhett Butler
imitation, which was terrible, "I don't believe we've been introduced...."
    "Flower, this is Livewire. Livewire, this is Flower. She's a
transfer," the Bandit said in a rush. "Now as I was saying--"
    Flower gave Livewire the barest nod, and said to the Rainbow Wizard,
"You have a lot of interesting followers."
    Any thoughts that the Bandit had in Flower's direction were chopped
brutally short. His eyes burned as he whirled to face her. "You watch your
mouth, missy," he gritted. "Livewire's my drummer, and neither he nor Zero
buys into this crock of shit that old Glow-in-the-Dark here shovels out for
the faithful. And what goes for them goes double, triple, for me. Understand?"
    Flower took a half step back from him, her eyes widening fearfully.
"Don't you talk to me that way," she said feebly. "I can make mistakes, can't
I? I thought he was your friend...." She looked from the Rainbow Wizard, who
was regarding the Bandit sourly, back to the Bandit again.
    "He is my friend." The Bandit's voice was soft. "I just wish he'd see
a shrink before he gets somebody hurt." He turned on his heel and left,
tossing angrily over his shoulder, "Particularly himself!"
    "Oo, bad scene," Livewire said, watching him go. Then he shrugged and
said to Flower, "But he's right, you know. This guy is like a TOTAL fuckhead.
Thinks he can create trees!" Laughing uproariously, he did a back handspring
away from them, bounded to his feet and charged off with a wave. "Later!"
    The Rainbow Wizard smiled and shook his head with the weariness of a
patient parent. He said, "It isn't easy, being me."
    "Awwwww...." Flower smiled at him, her eyes at once teasing and
promising.
    "Awwwww...." mimicked Conan, his eyes still on the book.
    Mary Magdalene was walking down the narrow hallway, the guitar case
bumping against her legs, when the Bandit came striding toward her like a
juggernaut. He brushed past her roughly, bumping the case from her hand with a
jerk.
    "Hey!" Mary Magdalene's voice carried a lot more ire than people were
used to hearing from her. "Why don't you watch where you're going?"
    "I could say the same for you, sweetheart," the Bandit snarled, not
even turning around. "Better get out there in a hurry, or you're going to be
out of a job." He slammed the door of his room behind him. Mary Magdalene
looked at the shut door, then back down the hall toward the lounge. Her eyes
narrowed into cruel slits, and her jaw set into a grim line. She marched down
the hallway toward the lounge, rolling up her sleeves as she went.
    The Bandit pulled open the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, opened it
with his teeth, and downed a third of it in one swig. He sat down wearily on
the couch and sighed, running a thumb over his aching teeth. Why do I keep
doing that, he wondered wearily. One of these days I'll break a tooth.
    It's just not goddamned fair! He reads a book on the theory of miracle
working, convinces himself and everyone else within earshot that he's got
something special, and all of a sudden he's up to his eyeballs in devoted
female followers! It's enough to make you sick.... I should have been a Psych
major. Then I could get into people's heads and make them do whatever I wanted
them to, just like him! Bells! Love songs! Give me a break, for shit's sake!
    There was a soft knock on the door.
    The Bandit took another long pull on the beer, finishing the bottle.
I'm not going to answer it, he decided. I'm going to sit here very quietly and
wait for whoever it is to go the fuck away. Then I'm going to crawl into bed
and try to sleep while the Wiz is probably conniving BOTH of them into bed
with him across the room. What the hell's so special about cum that glows in
the dark, anyway? Hell, if I'd been irradiated as badly as he was, MY cum
would probably glow, too!
    The knock was louder the second time.
    Go away, the Bandit willed. Go away and leave me alone. I don't want
to be comforted, I don't want pity and understanding. I just want to be left
alone. Please!
    "Bandit? Please open the door...."
    The Bandit's eyes went as wide as Frisbees, then contracted shut in
pain. No, anyone but her, he begged. Please?
    There was a long silence.
    Finally, with a ragged sigh, the Bandit got up and walked across the
living room, setting the bottle down with a clank. He pulled the door open,
and snapped, "What?"
    Twink was obviously a bit taken aback by his tone, but she smiled
tremulously and managed to struggle onward. "Can I come in?"
    "If you must," sighed the Bandit. He motioned for her to enter, and
she glided past him and sat down demurely on the beanbag chair, her legs
curled under her. He resisted the impulse to get another beer, shut the door,
and returned to his chair. "So what do you want?"
    She smiled, the faintest hint of a kiss-me pout on her lips. "I ran
into Livewire," she said. "He told me you'd had a run-in with the Wiz over
this new transfer kid."
    The Bandit sighed again. "I'm just a little bit tired of seeing him do
the old hoodoo and having women drop their drawers for him," he muttered.
    Twink frowned slightly. "Drawers? What kind of drawers?"
    The Bandit slapped his forehead. "DRAWERS, Twink! Panties! Underwear,
y'know?"
    "Oh," Twink said, blushing. "No, I've never heard that word for them
before. Drawers? What a funny word for underwear! I wonder where it came from?
Shut up, Twink." The last three words were spoken in the same conversational
tone as the rest of her speech, and the Bandit almost missed them.
    He raised an eyebrow. "'Shut up, Twink'?"
    "I've started ending all of my sentences with it," she said proudly.
"It saves time."
    Somewhere in the Bandit's gut, a small cold something tied itself in a
knot. "Aw, Twink, that's a terrible thing to say!"
    "Well, it's the truth," she replied, shrugging. "People have been
telling me to shut up ever since I got here. I can't ask what the words mean
in the movies--"
    "Well, you've gotta admit not knowing the jargon in a movie that's
rated 'R' is a little bit flaky for a modern teenager," the Bandit said drily.
    "I wasn't raised with it," she said wistfully. "My mummy and daddy
never used curse words around the house, and neither did anyone else in the
school."
    "I guess you didn't miss much," he smiled.  The knot in his stomach
was slowly unwinding, and he took a moment to appraise the figure Twink cut
critically. She was wearing that awful shapeless nightgown again, the
polyester one that zipped up to her chin with the little lace collar, and
furry bunny slippers in matching powder blue. Bunny slippers, he thought to
himself. I mean, really!
    For a brief moment, he found himself wondering what she would look
like in real clothes, as opposed to the Godawful things her parents sent with
her from wherever the hell in North Dakota she'd come from. All he knew was
that she was no lightweight, and he wondered just how much fat she was hiding
under those shapeless sweaters she wore. For a brief instant, he had a brief
mental vision of Diva, her heavy breasts and wide hips as appealing as a
Rubens in their way. The Bandit had always gone for short, willowy girls, but
maybe there was something to Zero's taste for ladies closer to Diva's
size.... He shook his head slightly. Get real, Bandit. You're never going to
get closer than ten feet away from Diva, and Twink ain't no Diva!
    "Penny for your thoughts," Twink asked, twirling the tip of her
nightgown's collar drawstring between her chubby fingers. The Bandit's gorge
rose into his throat at her pitiful attempt at flirtatiousness, and he
suddenly was feeling about as amorous as a retread on the Interstate.
    "I was thinking," he drawled, "About what an incredible pain in the
ass some women can be...."
    "Oh, you mean Flower? Yes, she's a live one, I'll say," Twink smiled.
For the briefest instant, the Bandit could've sworn that she'd actually dodged
an insult and delivered a comeback. Then he realized, as she continued
talking, that she'd just missed the reference completely. Merciful God, he
thought, how did a woman like this ever get into college?
    "I've been talking with her, she lives in my hall. She's kind of
weird, always wearing old tiedyes and beads and and talking about how her
parents used to walk around naked so she wouldn't have any hangups and stuff
like that. After I saw Livewire, I decided to breeze through the lounge and
see what was going on. I thought it was really pretty funny, well, actually
kind of sad, to tell the truth, I mean there's the Rainbow Wizard playing
away, and there's Flower matching him note for note, and poor Mary Magdalene
struggling along on the chords just to keep up! Everyone tells me that the two
of them have been together just forever and they always will be, but it
doesn't seem to me that that's a terribly healthy way to go, you know? Shut
up, Twink."
    "Oh, stop that," The Bandit scowled. He'd heard about enough for one
night. Somebody was leaving. Soon!
    "Why?" Twink smiled at him again, standing up and stretching. "Do you
have something better for me to do?"
    Oh, Lord God, the Bandit thought. That's the last straw!
    He was on his feet in an instant, pulling open the door to the room
he shared with Zero. It was empty; Zero had already gone to Diva's for the
night. He strode inside, growling, "Leave, Twink. Just...leave. Shut the door
on your way out."
    He reached behind him to shut the door but Twink was there, pulling it
shut behind her. "Are you sure you want me to leave, so soon?" Her voice was
low and liquid, teasing.
    The Bandit wasn't having any of it, tonight, though. A woman like
Flower ending up on the Wiz's hit list, and Twink, for God's sake, TWINK as a
consolation prize? No, Goddammit, NO!
    He whirled on her and hissed, "I have had enough of your stupid
insinuations and your ridiculaous attempts at flirting! You're making a
complete and utter fool of yourself, and you're not impressing anyone! You
love the attention I give you and you have absolutely no intention of
following through on ANY of your little hints, so why don't you just put up or
shut up!"
    Twink stared at him, her eyes wide and bright. He returned her stare,
his eyes burning black in the dimlight through the Venetian blinds.
    Then, quite suddenly, she smiled.
    "All right," she whispered.
    And in a single smooth motion, she unzipped her nightgown from her
collar to her waist and let it fall to the floor.
    The Bandit, master of the quick comeback, the left-handed compliment,
and the subtle jab, the most dangerous verbal assassin in Arcadia, dimly heard
his higher reasoning faculties shut down. His blood roared in his ears and he
barely registered the fact that she was stepping forward and putting her soft
arms about his neck. Instinctively his hands came up and grasped her waist,
and her soft lips met his as the last remnants of his reasoning abilities
surrendered with a fading crackle of static. Her lips were gentle, soft, and
caressing, and she broke the kiss after a moment and held him tightly,
whispering in his ear, "You're trembling. What's the matter?"
    "Oh, God, Twink," he managed to get out somehow. "You mustn't. I treat
you like dirt! Worse than dirt! You deserve better than me, for God's sake,
find yourself someone who'll give you a fair shake, don't do this--"
    She placed a cool fingertip on his lips. "Shut up, Bandit," she said
in a tone of mock sternness. She giggled at the turnabout, and he found
himself laughing with her. Suddenly, with a roar of released emotion, he threw
his arms around her waist and hugged her as hard as he could. She squealed as
he lifted her up off the ground, thought better of it, and quickly set her
down again. She met his gaze, her eyes mischevious, and suddenly lowered her
arms to encircle his waist. His breath whooshed out of him as she returned
the lift, laughing. She set him down on his feet again, giggling, "You
shouldn't hurt yourself. I'm a pretty big girl!"
    "No kidding," he whispered reverently, stepping back a pace to admire
her. In all of my life, he thought, I have never dreamed that someone like
this could exist outside of Playboy. I was right, Twink's no Diva. Poor Zero,
stuck with Diva....
    She wasn't a classic beauty by any means, but her body was the stuff
of Bandit's dreams. She was ever so slightly overweight, just enough to give a
softness to her joints and her lines, smoothing away the angles of bone
beneath the skin. Her oval face and long, aristocratic neck swept
uninterrupted into gently sloping shoulders, strong arms, and the most
beautiful breasts the Bandit had ever seen. He'd only really slept with a
couple of women in his life, and all of them had been, by choice or chance,
short and slender, with tiny A-cup breasts that suited their small frames. In
that instant, at his first sight of a woman with an average-sized bustline,
the Bandit became a lifelong and firmly committed breast man.
    "You're beautiful," he moaned, fingering her swelling nipples in
disbelief. Twink's breasts weren't unduly large, but her nipples were
something to see. As she sighed at his touch, they grew and swelled to the
size of pencil erasers. He let his hands slide down her wide, flaring
ribcage, and across her her washboard-flat stomach, pausing for a moment with
his thumb in her navel and one questing finger curling about a tendril of
downy, honey-blonde hair. "You're also a natural blonde," he noted with a
grin, his sense of humor slowly returning.
    "Of course," Twink giggled. She reached up and began to undo the
buttons of his shirt, whispering, "I want to see you naked, Bandit...."
    Suddenly he gripped her hands with his, looking hard into her eyes.
"Twink," he said, "You don't have to do this. I don't know why you picked me,
but I'm giving you the chance to back out now, before we go any further."
    She smiled up at him, her eyes bright with tears and her smile almost
aglow. "I picked you," she whispered,  "Because I love you. I forgive you the
way you've treated me in the past, because I know you were all broken up over
Teenie and how she dumped you. I want you, and I'd like for you to learn to
love me, but all I really want to ask for are two things. Will you promise
them to me?"
    He frowned. "I will, if I honestly can."
    "Okay. First, will you be a litle nicer to me from now on?" Her gaze
was wistful, and so full of pain that that the Bandit had to swallow to keep
from crying.
    He shook his head. "I can't promise you that, not until I get to know
you better. You and I need to talk, really talk, to one another, and right now
I'm in no condition to make conversation. But I will promise to give you the
common courtesy I've maybe been denying you, and to help you learn to defend
yourself a little better when people start picking on you...."
    "I'll settle for that, for a start," Twink whispered, a tear rolling
down one cheek.
    "Hey, hey, don't cry. I want to see you laugh!" He smiled
encouragingly at her, then on a sudden impulse tried tickling her ribs. She
pulled away with a sharp laugh, and wiped her eyes. He found himself staring
at her again, entranced by the way her breasts swung as she moved.
    She smiled and slipped her arms around his neck, and whispered into
his lips, "My second request is as follows. If I were to tell you that I want
to stay a virgin, would you be upset?"
    "Not at all," the Bandit said instantly. "It's your body, you have the
right to control what happens to it." And to his surprise, he realized that he
meant it. Mom, you raised me right, he thought to himself, but the fact that
there's so much else of her to enjoy is gonna make keeping this promise a lot
easier!
    "Thanks," she breathed, starting to unbutton his shirt again. "Now,
where were we?" She peeled the shirt back from his chest, and leaned forward
to kiss his nipples as she pulled the sleeves off of his arms. She dropped to
her knees before him on Zero's Persian rug, and giggled as she hastily undid
his belt and the snap of his jeans. Slowly, tantalizingly, she lowered his
zipper and pulled his pants down to his knees. His underwear, bulging and
already stained, were next, and she laughed as his penis sprang free and
gently swatted her on the cheek, leaving a sticky stain. She reached up and
grasped it with both hands, stroking it gently. She looked up at him, and said,
"You'll have to excuse me if I'm a little awkward at this, I've only done it
once before." She frowned at the memory. The Bandit caught the frown.
    "Really," he said, "With who? Anyone I know?"
    She released his penis. "Conan," she whispered.
    The Bandit stared aghast at her. "CO--WHY, for God's sake?"
    Her eyes filled with tears. "It seemed like the only way I could get
close to you was to get in with one of your friends...."
    "Oh, Twink...." The Bandit's erection wilted. He dropped to his knees
and held her tightly as she began to cry.
    "He, he stuck it in my mouth and started pushing it in and, and out,"
Twink sobbed, "And I, I wanted to run away but I was afraid he'd stop me and
maybe if I made him feel good he wouldn't, wouldn't...." She broke down.
    The Bandit rocked her in his arms, tears in his eyes. "That son of a
bitch," he whispered. "That dirty son of a bitch, I'll kill him!"
    "NO!" She looked up at him and grasped the sides of his face with both
hands. "I don't ever want you to mention any of this to anyone. He's never
tried anything since, and I just want to put it behind me. I don't want to
forget that it happened. But I do want to forget enough of the hurt so I won't
go through the rest of my life afraid...." She sniffled a bit.
    "Twinkles, how the hell'd I ever underestimate you? You're braver and
more mature than anyone I know!" A tear rolled down the Bandit's face.
    "Oh, I love you...." She hugged him hard. After a long moment, they
heaved a simultaneous sigh, and helped each other up. Twink giggled as the
Bandit waddled comically over to the bed and sat down, his pants still around
his ankles. "Gotta get these shoes off before I kill myself," he laughed.
    He quickly undid the laces and divested himself of shoes, socks, and
pants, as Twink came over and sat down on the bed beside him. She started at
the scratchiness of the blanket on her bare bottom. "Hey, this is wool! No
wonder you're never cold at night," she marveled, running a hand over the
expanse of blanket. "It's beautiful."
    "You're beautiful, too," he whispered, running a hand down the
exquisite curve of her spine and watching her arch her back in pleasure like a
cat. "And tonight, you won't be cold."
    Twink looked up at him, her expression suddenly pensive. "It's funny,"
she said softly. "I've never spent the night with anyone before."
    "That's okay," he smiled, running a hand through her long golden hair.
"You can get used to it really easily." He drew back the covers, saying, "Hey,
I just had a thought. Let's just sleep together tonight, nothing else. It'll
give us a chance to get to know one another better, with no pressure."
    "Are you sure?" Twink looked askance at his penis, which was already
erect again. "I don't want to leave you like that. Won't you burst?"
    "Wha-at? No, of course not! You really do have a lot to learn, don't
you?" The Bandit grinned at her crestfallen expression. "Come into bed."
    She smiled uncertainly, and slid under the covers beside him. The
Bandit sighed as Twink spread her warm body out over his like a blanket and
cuddled against him with a happy smile. She's kinda heavy, he noted, but as
long as she doesn't stop my breathing I guess I don't mind....
    One of her hands, wandering down his belly, found and gently held his
penis. "Good night, my love," she whispered.
    "Good night, Twink," he replied, kissing her hair.

        PART 4: Valentine's Day, continued

Mid-February 1982

    The Rainbow Wizard carefully packed away his guitar in its case, and
closed the lid. He hefted the case easily in one hand, and smiled sweetly at
Flower. "I had a wonderful time this evening," he said, "And I hope that we
can do it again sometime soon."
    "Oh, I'd like that," Flower replied, picking up her own guitar. "It
was wonderful meeting you. I was beginning to feel like I wasn't going to make
any friends here at all. Well, goodnight!" With a wave, she turned and was
gone, guitar case banging against her knees as she strode toward the elevator.
    The Rainbow Wizard watched her leave, his smile contemplative in a
manner only practiced by those in the Messiah business. After a long moment,
he sighed gustily and turned to Mary Magdalene, who'd packed her guitar away
and was standing with her arms crossed, looking at him with an expression that
would curdle fresh milk.
    He smiled at her disarmingly. "What's wrong, my love?"
    Mary Magdalene didn't even wind up. One strong fist came up in a blur
and caught the Rainbow Wizard right in the gut. He stumbled backward one or
two steps with a grunt of pain, stumbled over a coffee table, and fell
backward onto it, then onto the couch behind it, with a clatter.
    Thud, who was idly playing a round of cribbage with himself in the
corner, raised an eyebrow at that. Definitely unstable, he thought wearily. He
should've seen it coming.
    "I hope you're satisfied," Mary Magdalene hissed. "You fucking lecher!
I'd rip your nuts off and feed them to the fish, if they'd eat them!"
    "What's the--oof--matter with you, Mary? What'd I do?" The Rainbow
Wizard scrambled to his feet clumsily. He ran after Mary Magdalene as she
grabbed her coat and stormed out the front doors of the Habitat, fuming.
    "Hey, Wiz! What about your guitars?" Thud called.
    "Please keep them in your room, Thud. I'll retrieve them later. This
is much more important," the Rainbow Wizard called over his shoulder. He was
out the door in an instant, gone in a blast of cold air.
    Thud watched them go, and sighed. He began to gather up his cards.
Time to call it a night, I guess, he thought. No more fun stuff to watch.
    Mary Magdalene was walking at full steam, her back stiff and her eyes
straight forward as she crossed the campus, heading for the northern edge of
Arcadia's campus. Behind her, the Rainbow Wizard stumbled through the snow,
calling, "MARY MAGDALENE, WAIT! PLEASE! TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG!"
    At those words, Mary Magdalene stopped dead in her tracks and slowly
turned to face the Rainbow Wizard as he caught up with her, panting. The sound
of a party in another of the dorms carried faintly over the snowy field as he
stopped just out of her reach, shivering in the wind.
    "Tell you what's wrong?" Her whisper was thick with disbelief. "Tell
you WHAT'S WRONG? YOU STEAMING SHIT! HOW DARE YOU?" The whisper turned into a
shriek in the space of a half sentence. "Do you think I'm blind? Or just
stupid! I SAW you tonight, the whole fucking NIGHT, drooling all over that
little cunt like a goddamned sled dog in heat! You motherfucking HYPOCRITE!"
    "Mary--"
    "SHUT UP!" Her eyes were wild in the dim moonlight, and spittle flew
from her lower lip. She paused for a sobbing breath, and continued in a choked
monotone. "Three years I sat with you, you son of a bitch. Three YEARS! Every
other girl in the goddamned high school was out having a normal life, going on
dates, having REAL boyfriends, and I just sat in a chair by a hospital bed
waiting for you to open your eyes and tell me you loved me one last time
before you DIED!" She gasped for breath. "I watched them open you up and haul
out your insides! I watched them fill you with chemicals and shoot you full of
radiation and I watched your h-h-hair fall out and I listened to them t-tell
m-me that y-y-you were g-g-gonna DIE...." She fell to her knees and buried her
face in her hands, crying hysterically.
    The Rainbow Wizard reached out and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged away from it roughly, not looking up. "No, don't pull away," he
said calmly. "Are you trying to tell me that'd you'd rather I'd died?"
    "No," she sighed into her hands, her sobs subsiding a bit.
    "It sounds that way to me," he continued. "It sounds like you're
blaming me for wasting an awful lot of your life that you could have spent
elsewhere, doing other things. If I'd died...."
    "Oh, shut up," Mary Magdalene whispered.
    "No, I won't. This is important to you, or you wouldn't have hurt me
that way." His tone never wavered, a perfect psychiatrist's drone, comforting
and insistent. "Where would you be if I were dead? Would you be happier?"
    "N-no." Mary Magdalene slowly got to her feet. Her knees were soaked
through and freezing, and she shivered under her coat.
    "We both know what you did for fun before you and I got together," the
Rainbow Wizard said sternly. "I don't consider hanging out at the Palladium
and trying to get into the music business from the mattress up to be a
terribly rewarding future, do you?"
    "That's not FAIR!" Mary Magdalene sniffled. "I was making FRIENDS in
the business! I had CONTACTS! I...I...." Her head came up proudly. "I gave
some of those visiting musicians the best times they'd ever HAD!"
    "And are you a better person for it?"
    She glared at him, her eyes dark pits of rage.
    "Why were you so angry at me tonight?"
    "You know damn well why I was angry at you! Why I'm STILL angry at
you! Where the hell do you get off doing the romantic warrior routine with
that sawed-off little twat? She's NOTHING! Just a stuck-up brat from Crystal
City who seems to think she can just waltz in and waltz out with MY MAN!"
    "Your man?" His soft voice carried the faintest hint of danger.
    "You're--damn--RIGHT!" She jerked a thumb up, pointing at herself.
"Stand there and tell yourself you'd be alive to CHASE that little shit if I
hadn't brought you through this! I wouldn't make fun of you when your hair
grew back a different color, I held your hand while you puked up the whole
damn medicine chest, I changed your bedpans--hell, I even changed your I.V. a
couple of times when the nurses were too busy!" Her tone gradually took on a
note of triumph. "You owe me your life, you stinking cur! If it hadn't been
for me, you would've just given up and DIED! This life you're living is yours
because I gave it to you and YOU OWE ME! And I will NOT have you sniffing
around at the crotches of every female that passes by! Is that clear?"
    The Rainbow Wizard regarded her cautiously. "Very clear," he said. "I
hadn't realized that you were so unsure of my love for you that you could
misconstrue what happened tonight. That's such a shame...."
    "Oh, come OFF it! You're not going to tell me that there was nothing
going on between you-- she would've stuck her face in your crotch if I hadn't
been there, and you know it!"
    "Yes, maybe she would have," the Rainbow Wizard nodded. "And you're
quite convinced that I would have thrown away everything we've built and
gleefully let her carry me away?"
    Mary Magdalene was silent, her gaze wavering the tiniest bit.
    "Are you so convinced that she's your superior that I couldn't
possibly resist her," he persisted. "Are you so sure that I wouldn't have just
told her, 'No, my heart belongs to another. You are lovely, but you are not
for me,' and made her leave it at that?" He shook his head. "That's the most
depressing news I've heard in a long time." He turned and began to walk back
to the Habitat. "I wonder if the Bandit's still awake? He'd get a real charge
out of hearing this...."
    Mary Magdalene called after him, "Wait!" Her voice was still full of
tears, but now they were tears of misery rather than anger.
    "No, I'm cold. I don't have a jacket," he said, still walking away.
    Mary Magdalene ran the few steps that brought her to his side, and
opened her coat, casting it over his shoulders and drawing him inside it with
her. "Don't go," she whispered. "I'm sorry I misjudged you. It just seemed--"
    "I know what it must have seemed like," he said softly, turning to
face her. He slipped his arms around her, and she drew her hands into the coat
sleeves and held it shut behind his back, a warm cocoon enveloping them. "But
if I'm to be denied even the chance to admire a beautiful girl without seeming
a traitor, wouldn't it be better for me just to be struck blind?"
    "Oh, don't say things like that," she whispered, and kissed him.
    "I love you. Never forget that. I love you."
    "I love you...."
    They stood huddled together under her coat, kissing tenderly, for what
seemed like hours. Strange sounds seemed to come from somewhere inside the
coat's folds: first the clink of a belt buckle, then the distinct zip of a
zipper being opened. Mary Magdalene gasped, then laughed deep in her throat
and kissed the Wizard even harder. Another zipping noise.
    "Ooohh," Mary Magdalene husked. "What are you going to do with THAT?"
    "Nothing, if it freezes off," the Rainbow Wizard smiled.
    She laughed and reached up to nibble his ear. "I have a place to keep
it warm," she whispered. "Hurry."
    The next few moments must have been as funny as hell to watch, as the
coat bounced and flapped a bit around the two bodies jockeying for position.
The edge of the coat whipped open for an instant in the wind, exposing a brief
glimpse of what lay in the shadows: a silky thigh, the black curl of pubic
hair, and something that seemed almost to glow....
    Then the pair turned to let the wind blow the coat shut again, and
Mary Magdalene gasped and threw her head back. "UH! YEAH, YEAH!"
    Mmmmmmm...." The Rainbow Wizard bent forward and licked her neck as
she drew herself back like a bow in his arms and began to gasp and moan in a
familiar rhythm. Suddenly she went rigid, keening like a wolf as her orgasm
swept over her, heat and bitter cold mingled in the night. She cried out in
ecstasy as he gave a loud grunt and shuddered in her embrace, his eyes shut
and his head lowered with the effort.
    For a long while they stood very still, just holding each other. Then,
they straightened up, kissing gently, and the odd buckling and zipping noises
came back. A police car went by on the narrow street, its siren blaring,
causing them to start like frightened deer and cling to one another. Then they
laughed with the release of tension, and turned to leave the field.
    "Would you like to go back for your coat?"
    "No, I'll hold you close until we get to your house."

    Conan crunched through the snow toward the brightly lit courtyard that
fronted the Student Union, rubbing his tired eyes. I should know better than
to read stuff like that before going to bed alone, he said disgustedly to
himself. Now I'm gonna have to drink myself into a coma to be able to sleep!
Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor, who'd I think I was kidding?
    Students were going in and out of the Union, enjoying the late night
hours of the bar and dance club as a release from studying. Conan caught a
sudden whiff of grilling hamburgers, and his stomach responded with a burbling
growl. Maybe I'll eat first, he decided ruefully. You can never metabolize
enough protein....
    "Let go of me, you pig! LET GO! HEELLLLLPPPP!"
    Conan's head jerked up at the sound of the terrified scream.
    "Shut up, you bitch!" The roar of a drunken voice was followed by a
slap and a cry of pain. Conan located the source of the sound; it was a
shadowed area under one of the walkways, famous for private trysts at night.
He kicked into a dead run and was there in bare seconds, his massive legs
covering the distance in the time it took the students nearby in the courtyard
to look around for the source of the scream.
    An attractive young woman was struggling on the concrete bench with a
young man who was trying to hold her wrists. Conan grabbed him by the scruff
of the neck and bodily hauled him off of her, then up off the bench.
    "Hey, what's the--" The boy's voice cut off abruptly as Conan turned
him around and he got a good look at his assailant. He swallowed, then tried
for a shaky smile.
    "Leave her alone," Conan said with a friendly grin.
    "Uh, look, man, me and my girlfriend were just--UNGH!" With a sudden
shove, Conan slammed him back bodily against the wall of the underpass.
knocking his breath away.
    "Leave, I said," Conan repeated pleasantly. The boy gained his feet,
gasped for breath, and took off like a spooked raccoon, pushing aside the few
curious students who were just arriving on the scene.
    Conan didn't even watch him leave. He turned his attention to the
girl, who was sitting on the bench, hugging herself and shivering.
    "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" Conan held out a hand to her.
Hesitantly, she took it, and he led her out into the streetlights. There was a
spattering of applause from the few people who'd remained to see what the
ruckus was about.
    "Yeah! Conan saves another damsel in distress!"
    "Way to go, Conan!"
    Conan grinned at the crowd, eating up the applause. His smile died on
his face when he saw the girl clearly in the light. Her eye was rapidly
swelling and turning black as he watched, and she was obviously in a lot of
pain.
    "Thank you," she said in a feeble whisper.
    "Let me walk you to the hospital," he replied. "You should get a cold
compress for that eye."
    "Okay," she nodded. It took an obvious effort, but she smiled.
    He offered an arm to her, and said to the crowd, "I'm taking her to
Wright Memorial Trauma Ward. If the Security Squad want a statement, they can
find us there, okay?" There were a few scattered nods of assent.
    "Come on." He smiled at her as she took his arm, and led her around
the Union, toward the highway and the hospital.

    The noise and lights in the Clean Room were at their height. Zero
cavorted on the dance floor, his body shaking to the beat as he watched Diva
cut loose. She was squeezed into a spandex leotard in a tiger-stripe pattern
and a pair of skintight black pants, and her eyes were shut as she swayed in
time to the music. Zero's eyes were fastened on her crotch, and on a small
wedge-shaped bulge that went utterly unnoticed by everyone else in the room,
as did the tiny remote control clutched in his fist and the thin wire that ran
from his hand into the waist of her tights. He gave the power button a gentle
stroke, and watched Diva contort and thrash in what must have seemed a
particularly enthusiastic dance move.
    "Oh Lord God Jesus Christ Almighty!" She threw herself at him, biting
his neck and grinding her pelvis against his. He could feel the faint thrum of
the clit-vibe against his penis as she frantically grabbed for the remote.
"Gimme that thing you sonofabitch don't keep turning it onnanoff yer killing
me my clit's gonna bust wide open you sonofAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" She hugged him hard
as he gave the power button another jab, and he deftly held it out of her
reach. One or two other people were noticing that Diva appeared a bit too
enthusiastic about the song, and were looking their way with a mixture of
confusion and amusement.
    "Time to go, liebchen," Zero said quietly, flicking the remote off and
leading Diva off the dance floor and through the crowd. She followed along
behind him, still trying to pry the remote from his hands.
    A crowd was just dispersing out in the hallway of the Union where the
entrances to the Burger Bar and the Clean Room met; from the broken glassware
and the small spot of blood on the carpet, it looked as if the campus police
had had a rough time with someone in the Bar. But Diva was too far gone to
notice, and Zero was having too much fun torturing her to give the situation
more than a passing glance. He whispered, "Ready to go home?"
    "NO NO God no," Diva moaned, arms about his neck and teeth nibbling at
his Adam's apple, "I'll never make it home you gotta do me here you gotta do
me here gimme that thing you sonofabitch I'm dying!" She made one last attempt
to get the remote from him, then gave up and began to rub her hands up and
down the length of his penis, outlined against the crotch of his jeans. Zero
blinked in surprise and did his best to start a nonchalant stroll down the
hall away from the clubs, but Diva kept right beside him, groaning in his ear
and trying to get a hand into his pants. "Gimme Jimi...gimme Jimi...."
    Zero nodded politely to an elderly female professor who was walking
by, her flabbergasted eyes on Diva's busy hands. "Sorry about this," he said
pleasantly, "She's had a bit too much to drink."
    "So I see," said the professor, hurrying by with a sniff.
    "You bastard you bastard you BAAAAAAAA!" Diva shrieked and laughed
like a madwoman, both feet leaving the ground for a moment as Zero nudged the
button again. "I'm gonna getcha! I'm gonna--GETCHA!" She suddenly pushed Zero
as hard as she could. Taken by surprise, he stumbled sideways into an open
doorway that led into a small ticket office for the Student Theatre. It was
empty, the cash register unlocked and open; the teller was obviously out for a
moment to deposit the night's gate in the safe upstairs. Diva slammed Zero up
against the cash register and fell to her knees, frantically tearing at his
belt buckle. In desperation, Zero kicked the door shut behind her and held it
with one outstretched foot. His flailing hand reached over and pulled down the
curtain on the teller window. The last thing he saw was the face of a young
blonde freshman, her eyes bugging out and her mouth agape as she caught a
brief glimpse of Jimi as the curtain went down, and Diva went down right along
with it.
    She wasn't in the mood to mess around. One deep breath, a whispered
screech of "Gimme!" and down she went, all the way to the base of his thick,
slick shaft, sucking for all she was worth and screaming around the hardness
filling her mouth and throat. Zero closed his eyes as she bobbed up and down,
up and down.
    "C'mon, glbph, you bas, gmmmph, bastard, glmmph, give it, blf, give it
to me, mmmmbl, give it to me, gmllMMMMMM!" Her body went rigid as Zero turned
the vibrator on full power, and she did something neither he nor she was
expecting: she bit down. Hard.
    "YYYYEEEEEEOOOOOOWWWWWWWTTCHH!" Off went the vibrator, and down into
his chair went Zero, the last vestiges of his selfpreservation instinct
keeping the door firmly shut against the rattling doorknob and clicking key in
the lock.
    "Is somebody in there? Hello?"
    Diva's mouth came off his dick and her eyes were wide and full of
fear. "Oh, Liebchen, did I hurt you? I'm so sorrEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He flicked on
the vibrator again and she convulsed against him. Zero quickly examined the
damage to Jimi; he was bruised a bit and kind of red at the base, but there
was no blood, and he was thicker and harder than ever. He let out a windy sigh
of relief.
    "Peel," he whispered.
    Diva looked up at him and smiled wickedly. One hard tug, and her
tights were around her knees, exposing her wide, full hips unadorned except
for the red nylon straps that held the buzzing vibrator over her clitoris.
She turned around and presented her wide, smooth rump to him as he stood up.
The door seemed almost about to open with his foot removed from it, but it
slammed shut again as Diva fell against it with her full weight.
    "Who's IN there? Open the damn door!"
    Zero spread her ass cheeks and exposed the luscious, drippy folds of
her vulva with one hand, slowly increasing power to the vibrator with the
other. He planted the tip of his dong against her pussy lips, and she mewled
and thrust back against him, sucking him halfway in with a wet slurp. He
slammed his hips forward against her, driving himself into her to the hilt as
he ran the vibrator all the way up the scale.
    The remote dropped to the floor, forgotten, as he grabbed her waist
and started slamming into her with everything he had. Diva was screaming,
bucking, going insane from the dual stimulation, and her body slammed against
the door to the ticket office again and again. Finally, he gushed into her
with a groan, and she let out one last long wail as the vibrator, its job
valiantly done, drained its batteries and quietly died.
    For a long minute, they just stood there, him leaning back against the
cold metal of the cash register, her bent jacknifed at the waist and sobbing
for breath. He gently withdrew from her, quickly grabbing a spare piece of
paper to wipe himself and her off before pulling up his pants. She smiled
weakly at him, leaning against the pounding door as she rolled up her tights.
He tucked the remote in his pocket, put his arm around her to hide the wire
while she quickly straightened his hair and her own, and opened the door.
    "Eeeyesss?" Zero smiled pleasantly at the young lady who was standing
at the door, in front of a small crowd of fascinated onlookers.
    "What the hell were you DOING in there?" The crowd burst out laughing
at the question, and the girl blushed crimson. Zero suddenly noticed the girl
who'd seen him through the window, standing with two of her friends at the
back of the crowd and making it-was-THIS-big-I-SWEAR motions with her hands as
her friends gaped at her. She looked up, saw him, and blushed even redder than
the ticket seller. He grinned and held up his hands, shaking his head as if to
say, No-it's-really-only-THIS-big-dear.
    "Never you mind," Diva laughed, licking Zero's earlobe as she guided
him toward the coat room. "We were just leaving, anyway."
    "Well, Jesus, would you look at that? Not even an apology, when I'm
stuck out here trying to lock up and get my--" Behind them, they could hear
the girl's voice cut off short, and the crinkling noises of wet paper. "MY
RECEIPTS! OH, GROSS!"
    Zero's eyes met Diva's, and they both burst out laughing. All thoughts
of further adventure forgotten, they ran hand in hand for the exit.

    "You waited? Oh, you didn't have to do that!" Conan looked up from his
magazine and smiled as Cricket came out of the Trauma Ward, a compress held up
to her eye. He stood up and shrugged on his coat, and helped her ease into
hers.
    "That's okay," he said. "I had to talk to the police when they came
by, and I didn't want you walking home alone." He opened the door for her into
the night, and they hustled out into the cold wind, heading for the North
Habitat.
    "I appreciate your helping me," Cricket said after a few moments of
silence. "I really thought he was gonna kill me."
    "What were you doing with a creep like that anyway, Cricket? You seem
like too smart a person to go getting mixed up with someone who'd jump you
like that...."
    "Huh! So speaks the walking beefcake magazine!" Cricket's voice held a
trace of a sneer. "What the fuck do you know about getting trapped into doing
shit you don't want to do, big man? Huh?"
    For a brief, horribly clear instant, Conan thought of Twink. "Too damn
much," he whispered. "Sorry. Shouldn't have said it."
    "Damn right," Cricket continued angrily. "I've seen you working out in
the gym, all pumped up and nowhere to go. All the girls looking at you and
talking about you...."
    "No shit, really?" Conan grinned widely. Now THAT was an interesting
revelation!
    "Yeah, really! And d'you know what they're saying?" Cricket paused for
emphasis. "They're LAUGHING at you, you stupid motherfucker!"
    "What!" He looked down at her in shock. "WHY?"
    "Because you're so fucking narcissistic it's enough to make them puke,
that's why! It's so obvious, watching you pose in the mirror. The love affair
between Conan and Conan will go down in history!" She shook her head and fell
silent. Conan looked supremely uncomfortable in the silence that followed.
    "I wish they could've seen you tonight, though," Cricket whispered.
    "Oh, shit, that wasn't anything," Conan said with a shrug. "He
couldn't have hurt me if he'd tried."
    "Yes he could've," Cricket said tartly. "It doesn't take a big man to
carry a gun of a knife, Conan. You could've been killed! You didn't know what
you were charging into-- you just did what you thought was right, without
hesitation. He would've broken my nose if you'd hesitated before coming in
after him. Or worse." She smiled up at him. "You know what your problem is?"
    "Yeah," Conan muttered. "I'm a narcissistic scumbag."
    "No, besides that," Cricket chided with a smile.
    Conan stopped and looked at her for a moment, unsmiling. "No, I don't
know what my problem is," he said. "Why don't you tell me?"
    Cricket reached up and gently touched Conan on the tip of the nose.
"Your problem," she said softly, "Is that you don't really know where your
strengths and weaknesses are. You're not impressing anyone when you squat a
quarter ton or whatever, but you can bet that you'll get a lot more respect
from the women in the aerobics class when they hear how you saved my ass
tonight! You're no mean, macho hunk. You're just a decent human being."
    "Oh, really," he said with a wry look.
    "Yeah, really," she replied, starting to walk again. The doors to the
North Habitat loomed out of the darkness before them, and Cricket fumbled in
her pocket for her security card with one hand while trying to hold her
compress in place with the other. "Oh, damn it!"
    "Here, lemme help you," Conan said quickly, gently placing a hand over
hers on the compress. She looked up at him with her good eye for a long moment
before drawing her hand out from under his and fumbling for her card. She got
it out, and got the door open by feel as he held the compress steady.
    "Thanks." She pocketed her card and put her warm little hand over his,
taking the compress from him. She smiled up at him in the doorway. "For
everything."
    "No problem," Conan grinned. He shivered in the wind, and said, "Well,
I guess I better be getting back. It was nice meeting you, Cricket."
    "Wanna come in and warm up for a while?"
    He looked at her long and hard, then shook his head. "I better not."
    "Oh, stop looking like a kicked dog and get in here, you moron!"
Cricket grabbed him with her free hand and dragged him inside. The door shut
with a clang behind him, and the night was still once more.

    The Bandit awoke with a start, half sitting up in the darkness. His
eyes were utterly unaccustomed to the gloom, but he could feel rather than see
the warm presence in his bed. There was a quiet whisper in the dark.
    "Oh, I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you...."
    "That's okay, that's okay." The Bandit settled back down onto the bed
and ran his hands down the amazing curve of Twink's broad back. She hummed in
delight and burrowed closer to him, warm in the cold night.
    "This is really wonderful," she breathed. "It's so cozy."
    "Yeah," the Bandit said. "Cozy." He suddenly realized what had
awakened him: her hand on his penis, warm and soft, gently stroking him closer
and closer to orgasm. He was almost ready to pop. "Y'know, if you keep playing
with me like you are, I'm gonna come all over you," he whispered.
    "Oh, really?" Her giggle was low and almost liquid in the night. "Is
that so bad? I like to make you feel good...." Her inexpert hand stroked him
more roughly and insistently now, and she crawled up until her lips were level
with his, kissing him as she squeezed his penis and pumped it in her fist.
    "You like?" Her mock Spanish accent was somehow fairly effective, he
noted in a haze of mixed sleepiness and horniness.
    "Si, I like," he replied, and she giggled again. "But there are other
things I like, too, and if you're not going to let me sleep we may as well
enjoy them...."
    "Oh! Well, what did you have in mind?"
    He grinned in the darkness. "Ever been eaten out before?"
    "Uh, I don't think so," she said uncertainly. "What is it, exactly?"
    "What, being eaten out?" The Bandit paused, at a loss. "It's when I,
well, uh....Tell you what. Let go of me and I'll demonstrate, okay?"
    "Okay." Her fist released his penis, and he immediately rolled her
over onto her back and began kissing his way down her body, pausing for a few
luxuriant sucks at her huge nipples before making his way down lower. "Ohhhh,"
she moaned as he squeezed her breasts, "That feels so GOOD!"
    "If you like that," the Bandit said, "You'll love what comes next!"
His tongue flicked out and began to touch and probe beneath her pubic hair,
and she gasped in surprise.
    "Ooh! Careful, that tickles! Bandit, you can't really want to lick
down THERE, I mean isn't it sort of--" Her breath caught in her throat. She
took a deep breath and tried again. "It's not too--" Her voice died again.
When she finally spoke, it was in a different tone altogether.
    "Oh, please don't stop...."
    "Mmmmmmm," the Bandit replied, his tongue teasing her rapidly-swelling
clitoris gently. There was no question but that she was primed and ready for
his attentions; her pussy lips, neat and symmetric, were oozing moisture, and
her clit was stiff and turgid. He licked and sucked on it, and drove his
tongue between her outer lips to caress the entrance to her cunt. Back and
forth, back and forth between them, listening all the while to her nonstop
commentary.
    "Oh! Oh! That feels heavenly! Don't stop, PLEASE don't stop! It feels
like I'm burning up, I'm hot and cold, I'm shaking all over, Oh gentle Jesus,
OH! OH! What is that you're licking? More! More, oh, yes, oh, God, I--Bandit!
BANDIT! I FEEL FUNNY! I FEEL, I FEEL LIKE I'M GONNA--EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
    Her body arched off the bed from heels to head and he rode her like a
cowboy rides a bucking bronco, his tongue never leaving her sopping vulva. She
moaned, shrieked, and gasped, her clutching hands buried in his mop of long
dark hair, holding him in place as she spent and spent.
    Finally, he let go of her, and she collapsed sobbing onto the bed, her
body soaked in a thick film of sweat. "Oh, God, oh, God, I love you, oh,
Bandit, that was so, so BEAUTIFUL!" He crawled back up to join her and hugged
her hard, and she buried her face in his hair and cried.
    "Sweetheart, don't cry, it's okay. Shhhh, don't cry," the Bandit
soothed her, stroking her long hair. "Please don't cry...."
    "Can't, hic, I cuh-cuh-can't HELP it," Twink sobbed gustily. "It was
so, suh-suh-so BEAUTIFUL, I cuh-c-c-can't help crying, uh, oh, I LOVE you!"
She cried even harder, and the Bandit didn't know what else to do but to hold
her close and rock her gently until her sobs gradually died away and she
relaxed against him, kissing his neck. "Oh thank you, thank you...."
    "Uh, you're welcome," the Bandit said uncomfortably. "Are you sure
you're all right? I mean, I've never had anyone start crying on me before."
    "Oh, I'm feeling wonderful," Twink sighed, grabbing a fistful of
toilet paper from the roll the Bandit kept by the bed and blowing her nose
with a honk. "I couldn't help it, it felt so good I just had to cry. Was, was
that an orgasm?"
    "Uh, I think so," the Bandit said soothingly, smiling despite himself.
"If it wasn't, when you finally have one it'll probably kill you!"
    "Mmmmm, but what a way to die!" Twink laughed and ran her hand back
down his chest to his penis, which was just as stiff as ever. "My turn to make
you feel good, now," she breathed, sliding down his body and kissing his chest
as he'd kissed hers.
    The Bandit suddenly recalled what she'd said about Conan. "Uh, Twink,
are you sure you want to do that? There are other ways...."
    "Mmmmm, shut up, Bandit," came her voice from somewhere under the
covers. "I love you, and I want to make you feel as good as I do...." The
Bandit's whole body tensed as a long, wet tongue licked its way down the
underside of his penis and gently kissed his balls, then travelled back up to
the head. "You like?"
    "Uh, uh-huh," he managed.
    "Oh, good," she replied, "Because I don't feel like stopping! It
tastes so gooommmmbbllmmmmph......" The Bandit began thrusting his hips up off
the bed as her moist, warm mouth enveloped him and gently sucked him in. She
teased him with tiny nips and rolled her tongue obscenely over the head of his
penis as if trying to lick a lollipop to death in under three minutes. As
excited as he was, it was no time at all before the Bandit was feeling himself
tense up under an impending orgasm.
    Twink, feeling him tense, stopped her labors for a moment. "Are you
all right? Am I hurting you?"
    "Oh, God, DON'T STOP NOW, I'M COMING!"
    "Oops! Sorry! Glmmmmm....MMMM! MMMM! MMMMMM! Mmmmmmmmmmm...."
    "UH! UNGH! UH! UH! OH! UH! Uhhhhhhhhhhh...."
    Twink swallowed and swallowed again, downing every drop of hot, thick
semen he gave her. She got up on her hands and knees and looked up at him,
licking the last bits of sticky come from her lips. "How was that?"
    "Oh, god," the Bandit moaned. "I'm dying...."
    Twink laughed lightly and snuggled up next to him, kissing him deeply.
The mixture of sweat, pussy juice and semen in the kiss was indescribable. The
Bandit broke the kiss, and muttered, "So much for a night without doing
anything...."
    "I don't mind a bit," Twink said, yawning. "I'm so sleepy all of a
sudden...."
    "S'okay, me too," the Bandit mumbled. "Sleep well."
    "Mm-hmmm...."

    "Shhh," Zero whispered as he opened the door to his room slightly. "I
just need to get fresh clothes, and I don't want to wake anyone up."
    "Okay," Diva said softly, tiptoeing into the living room with him. The
door to Conan and the Wiz's room was ajar, and Conan was stretched out on his
bed under the covers, snoring like a steam engine.
    "Him, we won't waken," Zero laughed, shutting the door. "But the
Bandit's a light sleeper, so...."
    He eased the door to the bedroom he shared with the Bandit, and both
he and Diva simultaneously smelled the familiar odor of sex. Zero peeked
inside. The first thing he saw was the rumpled blue nightgown on the floor.
Diva gasped; the first thing she saw was Twink's gorgeous back, half uncovered
by the blankets.
    Zero looked at Diva. Diva looked at Zero. Their astonishment was
comical. Quickly Zero reached into his closet and grabbed fresh clothes, and
they backed out of the room and shut the door.
    "That was TWINK in there with him, wasn't it?"
    "Hard to say, I've never seen Twink naked before."
    "Oh, come on, I'm serious! The BANDIT, and TWINK?"
    "Hey, she's been gunning for him for months, and I have to admit that
what I saw didn't look too bad...."
    "That's enough of that, mister," Diva said sharply. "You're spoken
for already."
    "No problem," Zero said amiably. "Just commenting, that's all."
    The outer door closed, cutting off their voices. The Bandit smiled,
his eyes still shut, and drifted back to sleep.

    The breakfast table was abuzz with conversation when the Bandit came
out of the hot food line with his tray in his hand. He'd sent Twink off to
shower and dress with a kiss, and had promised to meet her at the breakfast
table, but she wasn't there yet. Zero, Diva, Conan, Bone, Thud, Plaids, and
a young blonde girl he'd never seen before were sitting at the table. When
they saw the Bandit, there was an uncomfortable pause, conversation dying down
as the Bandit set his tray down.
    "What's everyone looking at me for," he asked pleasantly.
    Conan looked at him with a big grin, and waggled a finger at him. "Na,
na ne NA na! Na, na ne NA na!" Pretty soon the whole table was doing it, and
the Bandit just sat down, shaking his head and grinning.
    "So how was she?"
    "Getting a bit desperate, are we?"
    "Any port in a storm, I guess...."
    "Yes, but is she 'port'?"
    "All right, ALL RIGHT!" The Bandit waved them all to silence. "I have
only this to say. It was not an act of desperation. Okay?"
    The laughter redoubled at that. "Prove it," Thud said mildly.
    "Okay, I will," the Bandit said with a smile. Keep your promise,
Twink, he thought to himself. Don't wimp out on me, please? It's a stupid
thing to have to do, but it'll make my life so much easier....
    "How?" Bone challenged.
    "Well, it's easy enough, when--Ah, hello, sweetheart!" The Bandit
stood up and pulled up a chair beside him for Twink as she entered the room.
Conversation died.
    Thud's eyebrows went north for the winter. Conan's jaw hit his tray,
and Cricket elbowed him in the ribs. Bone's eyes nearly popped out of his
head, and Plaids nervously took off his glasses and began to polish them
furiously. Twink had told the Bandit that she'd owned one set of clothes that
he'd probably consider "sexy," and had agreed to his request that she wear
them to breakfast. And sexy she was, in a clinging silk jumpsuit that was
unzipped halfway to her waist. She'd foregone the bra for the meal, too.
    "Good morning, love," she said huskily, slipping into the Bandit's
arms and doing her best Diva-kissing-Zero imitation. She then sat down beside
him, and said with a bright smile, "Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!"
    "Uh, Twink, that's, uh, that's quite an outfit you've got there,"
Conan ventured. Cricket looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.
    The Bandit had coached Twink on that eventuality, though; she didn't
even look up. "Eat your heart out, thumbdick," she said, opening her napkin.
    Cricket almost spat up her milk laughing. "You, I like," she said with
a grin. "I'm Cricket. You must be Twink!"
    "The one and only," Twink replied. "What happened to your eye?"
    "Well, I--"
    "HEY! HEY, EVERYONE! LISTEN!"
    All heads turned about as Lanky came running in, obviously in a panic.
The Bandit stood up and made shushing motions with both hands. "Take it easy,
Lank. What's the matter?"
    "It's Livewire." Lanky's face was ashen. "The police came and took him
away last night. It looked like they'd beaten him half to death."


            PART 5: All good things

Early March 1982

    "Oh, I don't believe this! What the hell kind of bullshit are they
shovelling here?" The Bandit threw down the newspaper disgustedly and kicked
it into the corner with a curse. "Goddamned pseudo-juornalistic shits!"
    He punched his data card into the debit monitor as if he'd been
punching the Arcadian's editor, and grabbed a tray from the stack at the head
of the heaterstack line as if he were grabbing her by the throat. His scowl
did its duty; the other students at the dinner table kept their conversations
to themselves, and nobody tried to talk to him. The empty dining hall was
spotlessly clean, and the only sound was the rumble of the gathering crowd
outside the double doors.
    Finishing his dinner with the haste of the enraged, he picked up his
tray and carried it back to the kitchen, throwing it on the dumper while he
fired up the Stendorf and got it heating. Stork looked him over dubiously as
he came around to the uniform drawer, and silently held out a folded apron.
The Bandit snatched it with a growl and tossed it over his head, tying it on
as he went to retrieve a pair of rubber gloves from the glove box.
    "Um, Bandit?" As always, Stork's voice was deep and quiet, a boom that
went well with his nearly two meters of height.
    "What?" The Bandit hissed in pain as a blast of scalding steam hit
him in the face, gusting out of the Stendorf's gaping maw.
    "This is a disgusting job. Don't make it even less pleasant for us.
Please?"
    The Bandit glared at him for a long moment, then sighed, somewhat
deflated. "Okay, okay," he muttered. "Sorry. I'm just not in the best of moods
tonight, that's all."
    "Obviously not," Stork agreed, tying on his own apron. "At the risk of
sounding like the Wiz, d'you want to talk about it?"
    "No," the Bandit snapped. "There's nothing to talk about. I'm just
overreacting, I guess. But God damn it, you'd think the idiots who ran the
Arcadian would be a little more careful about getting their facts straight!"
    "Oh, is that all?" Stork sighed. "You KNOW they make it all up,
Bandit. Simmer down, okay?"
    "Yeah, yeah, all right. HEY, FASTBACK! COME ON, LET'S GET STARTED!"
    "Coming, coming, coming," Fastback drawled, tying on his apron as he
sauntered back to the Stendorf station. "Anon, anon. Okay, who's on what?"
    "Um, I had Stendorf duty last night, so I'm on tray-dump tonight,"
Stork volunteered.
    "So that means I have Stendorf duty tonight, ay okay," Fastback
nodded, taking up a position by the back end of the huge, puffing machine.
    "And I'm in the sink," the Bandit nodded. "Okay, here we go, people!
Hup, two!" The first stack of used dinner trays came rattling back into the
kitchen, pushed awkwardly by a young student server/clearer, and the familiar
rhythm kicked into gear: trays emptied and cleared into the trashvat by the
Stork, slid over to the Bandit for a quick scrub, and into the Stendorf and
out the other side, clean and sterile, for Fastback to put away. Two hundred
trays an hour, six nights a week, the Bandit thought grimly. Well, it pays the
bills.
    The temperature in the stuffy kitchen gradually climbed into the
nineties as the Stendorf's steam mingled with the air. The Bandit wiped a
forearm across his sweaty brow and dove back into the sink full of boiling
water, dishes rattling in his hands as he cleaned and stacked them.
    "Window!"
    "Window? Ay okay! Bandit! Window?"
    "Uh, window! Yeah, sure, I got it," the Bandit puffed, reaching across
the Stendorf's entry gate to the window and throwing it wide open. The night
was cold, but the breeze was pure heaven in the cramped kitchen.
    "Ahhhhh, I'm alive again. Thanks, Bandit!"
    "No problem, Stork ole pal," the Bandit said with a fleeting smile.
"Hey, are you boys up to loaning your old pal Bandit a tonsil or two?"
    "Bass on line," Stork grinned.
    "Baritone on line," Fastback grinned. "What'll we sing?"
    "How about some Elvis," Bandit suggested.
    "Aaaaaalissooooooon, Mah aim is troooooo," Stork wailed.
    "Wrong Elvis, you foon!" The Bandit laughed in the gouts of steam.
"You know I can be found--sitting all alone-- you ran off and left me babe,
and now I'm on my own--"

    "Don't be cruel (dooooowah)
    To a heart that's true (ooooooooo)
     Don't be cruel (doooooowah)
    To a heart that's true (ahhhhhhh)
    I don't need no other love,
    Darling, it's just you I'm--"

    "THINKIN' OF," Stork boomed. The next two stanzas went by in a flash,
with Fastback and Stork bop-bopping behind the Bandit, and at the end of the
song, the trio were startled by the sound of applause from outside the window.
    Squinting through the steam and out into the night, the Bandit could
just make out the figures of some people standing under the window. Waving the
steam away, he suddenly realized that they were girls, Lovepilers from the
look of them. "Pussy alert," he hissed, sotto voce, smiling and waving out the
window at them. They giggled and returned the wave.
    "Right," Stork whispered. He cleared his throat. "Don' know why,
there's no clouds up in the sky--"
    "STORMY WEATHER," Fastback and the Bandit crooned theatrically, and
the three dishwashing serenaders mugged their way through that and a couple
of other songs before the girls waved cheery goodbyes and headed off down the
road that led past the Roach Motel.
    The Bandit's eyes popped as he saw them walk across the East Quad,
right past the turnoff for the Lovepile, and up the steps of the Virgin Vault.
"Hey, those babes were V.V.'s! What the hell were they doing risking their
reps by listening to us?"
    "Can't get pregnant from singing," Fastback grinned, heaving the
umpteenth rack of clean dishes out of the Stendorf.
    "No, but we all know where shameless revelry can lead," Stork retorted
with a smile. "Hey, guess what? This is the last tray!"
    "And there was much rejoicing," the Bandit sighed.
    "Yayyyy," Fastback deadpanned, reaching for another dish rack.

    "Hey there hi there ho there," the Bandit called, charging into the
lounge. Thud waved, not looking up from his cards. Lanky managed a wave, as
did Mimosa, who was studying her hand intensely and ordering and reordering
the cards again and again.
    "Greetings, Bandit!" That particular bellow was Thunder's; the
training of a New England professor and the manners of a coal miner. "And have
you robbed from the rich to give to the poor tonight?"
    "By all means," the Bandit grinned, emptying his coat pockets onto the
coffee table. A small pile of chocolates and mints, given out to students who
ate at the Roach Motel and normally unavailable at Scum Central, was soon
divided up and passed around, the Bandit saving a couple for his own use.
    "Ah, a gentleman and a scholar," Thunder smiled, running a hand over
his bristling beard as he popped a mint into his mouth. "My thanks, sir."
    "The pleasure, as always, is mine," the Bandit replied with a bow.
    "Hey, Bandit," Conan said, getting up from the couch where he'd been
napping, "Did you read the paper tonight?"
    The Bandit's smile vanished. "Yeah," he growled. "Those miserable
shits. I'd like to stuff a boot up their butts."
    "Well, now, let's back off and look at this thing objectively," Thud
said carefully. "They didn't mention his name, and they left out the details
that might have upset the student body. After all, what good would it do to
tell the truth?"
    "It never hurts to tell the truth," the Bandit said. He picked up a
paper from where someone had left it, and flipped it open. "No mention of the
misidentification! Nothing about what had really happened! 'Disturbed,' it
says. 'Disturbed'!" He tossed the paper away in disgust. "What the hell does
that mean?"
    "It means that he was disturbed," Thunder offered without a smile.
"Although I daresay the police were somewhat more disturbed...."
    "That's the truth," the Bandit smiled. The smile, though, flickered
and was gone after a moment. "I'm gonna miss him."
    "So are we all, Bandit," Thud nodded. "So are we all."
    The Bandit listlessly picked up the paper from where he'd thrown it on
the floor, and read through the article one more time.

    ARCADIA STUDENT ACQUITTED OF ASSAULT CHARGES; WON'T RETURN

    The criminal court of Wright County today dismissed charges against
the Arcadia student who singlehandedly assaulted and beat the entire campus
security squad on 14 February, at the request of the Office of the College
Chancellor.
    The student had left a Valentine's Day party in a state of extreme
inebriation after behaving disruptively and yelling threats against a female
Arcadia student with whom he was believed to be having relationship troubles.
Security was called to the scene to escort the student home, but he became
violent when approached and injured the two Security officers who attempted to
restrain him. The student fled to the Student Union, where he was apprehended
and taken to the County Jail by the remainder of the Campus Security Squad and
two Arcadia Police officers, both of whom were treated and released from
Wright Memorial for minor bruises. He was released on bond the following day,
and taken home by his family.
    The charges of aggravated assault were thrown out for reasons not
revealed to the Arcadian's reporters. However, the student, whom the
Psychological Service has characterized as "disturbed," has refused to return
to Arcadia to complete his course of study, citing police brutality.

    "They didn't show him their badges," The Bandit muttered, wadding the
paper up in his fists. "He was drunk, for shit's sake! He thought they were
mugging him! What the hell would you have done if two big guys came out of
nowhere and grabbed you while you were walking home?"
    "That's probably why they let him go, Bandit," Thunder said quietly.
"And it's probably why the College had the Court dismiss charges. It wouldn't
look good for them to admit that their Security staff weren't well-trained
enough to identify themselves before attempting to manhandle a student...."
    The Bandit tossed the paper into a nearby wastebasket.
    "Goodbye, Livewire," he said softly to himself, and stalked off toward
his room.

    Mary Magdalene sat under the paper sky on her bed, staring at a point
on the wall a few inches to the left of the desk in her room. Princess whined,
obviously upset at her mistress's state of mind, and nosed her head under a
limp hand, trying to encourage a pat.
    Mary Magdalene looked down at the small brown-and-white dog at her
right hand. Then, slowly, almost unwillingly, she turned her gaze to the bed
by her left hand. There upon the rumpled bedclothes, lay the letter, half open
upon the envelope and the bits of scarlet wax from the seal. She picked it up
and began to read it for the thousandth, two thousandth time.

    My beloved Mary:

    It pains me to write this, for I can imagine some measure of the pain
that this letter will bring you. Do not fault me for lack of courage; I wish
to present my case before you in full, without interruptions, and the only way
that I know how to do this is in writing. By now I am certain that you have
guessed what I am about to say....

    She let the letter fall from her fingers, and looked back down at the
bed. Her picking up the letter had exposed the envelope, and one more thing
that had lain beside her for nearly a month now. It glittered as she picked it
up, sharp edges gleaming in the candlelight. She looked at the reflection of
her eyes in the burnished steel, eyes waxy with lack of sleep, eyes dry
because there were simply no more tears to be shed.
    She held up a pale, cold wrist, and touched the edge of the knife to
it. A lengthwise cut, she recalled; that was the best way to do it, so it
couldn't clot shut after you passed out....
    For a long time, she sat unmoving, staring at the knife. Princess
jumped to her feet and ran barking from the room, ears perked for the trespass
of a neighborhood cat or some such. Mary Magdalene barely noticed that she was
gone. The candle flickered--
    "Do it."
    She jerked about, startled, the knife dropping from her hands.
    "Do it. Save us all the trouble, you pathetic bitch."
    The Bandit's eyes were unreadable in the candlelight. He stood in the
doorway, one hand idly ruffling a shaggy ear as Princess stood on her hind
legs and chewed on the tails of his jacket.
    "That's the easy way out. You know it. So does he. He's counting on
you to do it. You'll be out of his hair for good, and that's what he wants."
    Mary Magdalene's lips parted, her voice a desert-dry whisper.
    "My life for him....I gave him my life...."
    "No, you didn't. You gave him three years, and now you see what it got
you in the end. Don't make his victory complete, Marymag!" The Bandit squatted
down beside her on the hardwood floor, holding Princess with one strong hand.
"He sucked the life out of you to stay alive, and he sucked the sanity out of
you so he could always have someone around to practise with. Now he's got
someone else to practise with, so why throw your life away? It's yours again,
for the first time in years."
    "Why her?" The whisper held the agony of damnation. "Why her?"
    "She's better in bed than you are, from what I understand," the Bandit
said callously. "She's got nicer tits than you do, she's got better hips, and
she's better on the guitar. But most important of all, she's crazier than
you'll ever be, and he needs that most of all." He smiled, a satanic smile in
the firelight. "He needs a nice, psychotic girlfriend that he can fuck at
night and headshrink by day, to keep himself in trim. And you're out of a job,
seems like. So why not join the rest of us out here in the real world? It's
not too bad, once you get to know it...."
    "You have friends, MaryMag. They care about you, and they don't want
to see you any more hurt than you already are. He did the hurting, up until
now. Any hurting that happens from now on, though, is hurting that YOU do to
YOURSELF. Don't be selfdestructive! If you die, we'll all mourn your passing.
Even he will, I expect. But in time, a year, ten years, you'll be forgotten,
moldering away under the ground while we get on with our lives! What kind of
revenge is that?"
    She looked away from him, down at the knife. She picked it up, gripped
it convulsively in her fist, stared at it.
    "There is only one revenge, Mary Magdalene. To dance on your enemy's
grave. And you can't do that if you go to the grave first.
    "Give me the knife."
    Mary Magdalene looked over at him, her eyes bleak.
    "Please?"
    Slowly, she handed the weapon to her. He took it gingerly by the
blade, looked around the room, and suddenly whipped his hand forward in a
blur. There was a meaty thunk of steel hitting wood, and Mary Magdalene tunred
to see an old photograph of her and the Rainbow Wizard, pinned to the wall by
the knife blade through the Rainbow Wizard's face.
    She smiled shakily. "Can you teach me to do that?"
    He returned the smile. "Not if you're dead, kid."
    Mary Magdalene laughed, her first real laugh in weeks. "Great!"
    Princess barked and ran to her, and she picked up the tiny, squirming
life and hugged it tightly to her, her eyes moist.
    "C'mon, we're getting a group together to go get ice cream. You oughta
get to know your friends again!" The Bandit helped her to her feet, and stood
back awkwardly from her. She was exactly his height in her bare feet, and this
was the closest they'd ever been to one another without the Wiz around. She
looked into his eyes, a hint of her old fire beginning to smolder there once
more, and gave him a quick, hard hug.
    "Thank you," she whispered.

Late March 1982

    Spring Break was over, and the crowds of students were settling back
into the swing of things, crowded about the lounge and chatting about their
vacations or watching television. There were the usual faces, and some other
students who weren't normal lounge types; a pair of jockettes from the Swim
Team wing getting ready to go out and hit the bars, a punk in a three-button
sack suit and string tie sitting and looking bored at the world from behind
his silvered wrapround shades. Conan surveyed each and every face as it went
by, saying hello to those he knew.
    "Is the Bandit back yet?"
    "I think so. Hey, Lanky, YOU were the last person to see him; is he
coming back today?"
    Lanky tucked a long string of greasy black hair behind his ear
nervously and scratched at his straggly beard. "Yes, he is," he said, but I
haven't seen him, either."
    "How was your visit with his family? Did everything go okay?"
    "Oh, yeah, everything went fine," Lanky said, looking around him with
a bit of agitation. "His parents are wonderful people, and I must admit they
certainly aren't to blame for his being so skinny!"
    "Oh, yeah!" Thud grinned, nodding. "His mom can cook like nobody I've
ever seen. I'll never forget last Thanksgiving, boy...."
    "Hi, everyone," Flower said, skipping up and giving the Rainbow Wizard
a quick kiss. Mary Magdalene, sitting nearby, didn't even flinch. "Hope
everyone had a nice vacation!"
    "You bet," Conan grinned. "Had the whole gym to myself!"
    "Oh, please," Cricket sighed, settling against him more comfortably.
    Mary Magdalene was only half following the conversation. The punk on
the couch was staring at her, his face an utter blank behind his shades. He
was robotlike, utterly expressionless, yet there was something about him....
    "OH, MY GOD!"
    Everyone practically leaped out of his skin at Mary Magdalene's
shriek. A dozen pairs of eyes looked curiously at her, but she could only
point wordlessly at the punk sitting near the circle of friends and make
strangled noises.
    "It's--HE'S--"
    The punk, obviously annoyed at such attention, raised a sneering
eyebrow...a thick, scowling eyebrow that could only belong to one person.
    "BANDIT!"
    The familiar grin broke out on the smooth-shaven face as the shades
came off to reveal the dark eyes. Instantly there was pandemonium as the
Bandit was surrounded by people laughing, running hands through his new
buzzcut, and fingering the material of his suit.
    "I don't believe it!"
    "Yeah, ain't I something?"
    "Where'd you get the suit?"
    "It was one of my dad's. Ain't it the most?"
    "My GOD, your HAIR!"
    "Let's just say I got tired of being mistaken for Lanky...."
    "Lanky! You knew all the time!"
    "He did it before I arrived, it was a shock to me, too!"
    "Hey, you have a chin!"
    "Oh, gee, thanks! Listen, people, I need you all to keep this quiet
until Twink sees me, okay?" The nods of agreement were mixed with wicked
grins, all around.
    "Here she comes!"
    Instantly the shades were on and the eyebrows were tucked away. People
resumed their conversations with some effort, stifling an occasional snicker
as Twink came bouncing up to greet them.
    "Happy end of vacation, everybody! Has anyone seen Bandit?"
    "Um, h-he's around," Conan said with a shushed giggle. Twink looked
around at the others, then sat down uncertainly next to the punk, who politely
moved aside for her.
    "So how was everyone's--" Twink stopped. The punk had moved closer to
her, seemingly nonchalantly. She moved a bit away from him, and said, "How
was--" He moved closer to her, and she found herself running out of couch.
"How--" He shifted even closer, his thigh brushing hers. Lanky made a gagging
noise and quietly fell on the floor. Mary Magdalene had a knuckle stuck in her
mouth and was chewing on it to keep from laughing. "What's so--" Twink
whirled to glare at the punk, whose hand had just brushed her thigh. Her glare
turned to a puzzled stare as she regarded him closely for the first time, and
then a disbelieving smile broke out on her face.
    "Hey!" She reached out and plucked off his shades, and began to laugh
with the others as she recognized him, throwing her arms around him.
    "You're unbelievable!" She sighed and rested her chin on his shoulder
as he returned the embrace, her eyes closed. But his eyes weren't closed, and
nobody noticed that his smile was for Mary Magdalene.

Late April 1982

    "What's the matter, love?" Twink looked across the table at the
Bandit, her eyes concerned. "You've been really quiet lately. That isn't like
you."
    I'm leaving you, Twink. Forgive me.
    The Bandit picked at his dessert, eyes downcast. "Nothing," he
whispered. "I'm just worried about finals, that's all."
    "No, you're not," Twink said matter-of-factly. "You never worry about
finals until Reading Period, and sometimes not even then. Why won't you tell
me what's wrong?"
    Because I feel like a shit sandwich and I don't want to see you cry.
    "It's hard, it's just hard to put into words. I--"
    Her eyes were wide and bright with tears. "You want to call off our
relationship, don't you?"
    Oh, God. NOW she picks to be observant. Why me, God?
    "I, I...." He sighed and threw down his fork. "It's not your fault,
okay? It's not you at all. It's me. I'm just not, I'm not really giving you
what you deserve from a relationship, and I don't think I can. It's funny; in
a way, you're TOO good to me, Twink."
    "I love you," she said simply. "How else can I be?"
    "Aw, Jesus!" He buried his face in his hands. "You're not making this
very easy, y'know!"
    "I don't want it to be easy. I don't want it to happen at all!" Twink
got up, grabbing her tray, and strode out of the lunchroom, the Bandit quickly
following behind her. She was out in the rainy street and pulling on her coat
before he'd had a chance to get rid of his tray, and it took him some running
to catch up with her.
    "Twink, please...."
    "No, don't ask me to understand! I don't want to understand, just go
away and let me be!"
    "NO!" He grabbed her roughly by the arm, and spun her around, looking
into the tear-filled blue eyes. "I'm not going to cast you aside like an old
shoe, dammit! You were my friend before you were my girlfriend, and if you
aren't still my friend then everything we had was for NOTHING!"
    She blinked at him. "You really mean that, don't you?"
    "Of course!" And I really do, too, which makes it easier to say. Lying
to you is like kicking a cripple, Twink; I don't like to do it because there's
no challenge in it. "We'll always be friends, I hope. You should always feel
that you can confide in me, that you can come to me with your troubles, that
you have me to care about you. Will losing me in your bed be such a terrible
loss? We've had wonderful times together, and I hope that we'll have more!
Just...not that way. Does any of that make sense?"
    She nodded, her eyes very wide. "Yes," she whispered.
    "Well, good." He smiled, a sad smile. "Let me walk you home?"
    "Sure." He put an arm around her and held her tight as they crossed
the Eastern Quad, up the stairs and in the door. He walked her through the
lounge and up the stairs to her room in silence.
    She unlocked the door, opened it, then paused, turning to face the
Bandit. "Can I say something?"
    "Always...."
    "You're my best friend, Bandit." She ducked her head shyly. "I thought
you should know that."
    A tear rolled down the Bandit's face, vanishing in the stubble on his
cheek. "That means a lot, Twink. YOU mean a lot. Don't ever forget that."
    "I won't." She reached up and kissed him, tenderly, one last time.
Then she turned and walked through the door.
    "Bandit?" She didn't turn around.
    "Yes?"
    "Be good to Mary Magdalene...."
    The door shut quietly.

    Mary Magdalene was sitting on the beanbag chair in the Bandit's living
room, reading one of Conan's comic books, when the Bandit came in. He smiled
thoughtfully at her, and she returned the smile. Well, I'm now girlfriendless,
the Bandit thought wearily. If I end up alone for the rest of this year, it's
my own damn fault.
    "How are you doing, Bandit?"
    He forced casualness into his voice. "Oh, I can't complain, I guess.
Twink and I have called it quits for the time being...."
    "Really?" She sat up, the comic book forgotten. "Oh, Bandit, I'm so
sorry! What happened?"
    "Oh, nothing to get upset about. We needed to give each other a little
more room to grow, that's all. We aren't mad at each other or anything...."
    "Oh." She smiled at him. "I'm surprised that she has trouble growing
with you around. You certainly were a huge help to me...."
    He grinned at her. "No, YOU did all the hard work. I just gave you a
push every now and then."
    "Yeah, right! Uh-huh," she laughed. The Bandit's heart skipped a beat;
innocently or not, when Mary Magdalene smiled at you, you noticed it.
    "Hey, listen! I've decided I'm going to do something symbolic tomorrow
morning, and I thought you'd get a kick out of knowing about it." Mary
Magdalene dug into the pocket of her jeans, and pulled out something small
wrapped in string, which she undid and showed to the Bandit. It was the tiny
brass neckbell the Rainbow Wizard had given her.
    "I'm going to throw it in the river tomorrow," she said proudly.
    The Bandit's smile died on his lips. Somewhere deep inside him, a tiny
voice was raising a protest against the hot tide of joy and triumph in his
heart, and it chilled him for an instant.
    Once in a while, he thought, just for a moment, things become really
clear, and I can see the future....
    "Don't." His voice was soft but final. "Give it to me; I'll keep it
for you. Someday you're going to want it back."
    She shook her head. "Never."
    "'Never and forever are neither for men.' Fritz Leiber." He held out a
hand. "Trust me on this one, MaryMag."
    She looked at him for a long moment, frowning, then shrugged and
handed over the tiny bell. It tinkled gently as he took it, and he rested it
on his palm and gazed thoughtfully at it for a moment.
    Then, a small smile quirked across his upper lip. He looked up at Mary
Magdalene, and shook the bell slightly, ringing it.
    Mary Magdalene looked at the bell for a moment, then gazed into the
Bandit's eyes. She got up on her feet, took the half step into his arms, and
that incredible smile was his, all his, as she brought her lips down to his.
    There are kisses, and there are kisses, the Bandit thought in a daze.
And then there are kisses. And there are...yow.
    He wasn't sure how much time went by as he held her and kissed her,
but it took a stiff back to make him break the kiss. He drew back from her and
looked into the dark fire in her eyes.
    "I want you," she whispered.
    He smiled, a rakish devil's smile, and motioned into his room with a
bow. She returned the bow, one eyebrow cocked superciliously, and glided into
the room. As he pulled the door shut, she grabbed the front of his shirt and
began to unbutton it, kissing him all the while. He returned the favor,
unbuttoning her blouse and expertly reaching behind her to pop the clasp on
her brassiere. She lowered her arms and let everything fall to the floor as he
caressed her small, firm breasts, feeling the jutting, conical nipples come
erect as he rolled them beneath his thumbs. She moaned as his hands teased
her, and she reached down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He broke
the kiss with a jerk of surprise as he felt her reach into his underwear and
firmly grasp his penis, fondling its length as it hardened.
    "Too fast for you?" Her smile was teasing, challenging him. He
returned the smile casually, reaching down to unzip her jeans.
    "Not at--" He tried to slip a hand into the front of her panties, to
punctuate the "all" with a finger on her clitoris, but they were too tight,
and they resisted his intrusion. He tried again, grunting, "Not at...." Still
no luck. "Not, rrrrrrrrRRRRR, NOT AT--"
    Mary Magdalene broke away from him, laughing out loud. "Give it up!"
    "RROWR!" He grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her back to the bed
and onto it, climbing on top of her and yanking down her jeans and panties
from her smoothly rounded hips. Taking only the barest second to admire her
thick tangle of black pubic hair and her beautiful, swollen vulva, he lowered
his face into the fragrant mass. "Not at alllllmmmmmmmmmm....."
    "Ooohh," Mary Magdalene sighed. "Not at all! Mmmm, not at alllll...."
    The next few minutes were a testimony to the Bandit's years of
practice. While Mary Magdalene sighed and slowly rocked her hips against his
busy mouth, her fingers running through his short hair, he quickly and
efficiently untied her sneakers, removed them, peeled off her socks, finished
removing her pants, undid his own boots, removed his own socks, and kicked his
own pants away into the corner of the room. He broke the oral embrace with a
long, slow kiss on her swollen clitoris, and kissed his way up her belly and
across her breasts to her neck, chin, ear, and finally her lips.
    "Hey!" She said in mock surprise. "There's a naked man in my bed!"
    "Really? Where?" He looked around suspiciously, making her laugh in
delight. "All I see is a naked woman...."
    "Hmmmm," she smiled. "You know what I like about you?"
    "Um, no. What?"
    "We're about the same height," she said, getting up and gently pushing
him back onto his back on the bed. "So I can do this!" And with a quick swing
of her hips, she threw one thigh across his body and lowered her succulent
rump down onto the Bandit's surprised face. Suddenly drowning in pussy, he
could only moan into her labia as she gripped his penis firmly and began to
suck and pull on it.
    The difference between Twink's selftaught, clumsy fellatio and Mary
Magdalene's expert technique was obvious in the first five seconds; her teeth
were never too rough on his sensitive skin, her lips were strong and her
suction demanding. He felt like she would suck his innards out through his
penis as she plunged her head effertlessly to the base of it and drew upward
like she was trying to get an entire milkshake into her mouth at once.
    He reached down and fondled her breasts as she sucked him. "Howm vap?"
    "Gmmmph," she responded with a throaty chuckle that he felt all the
way down the length of his shaft, and a sassy little wiggle of her ass across
his face. He alternated stimulating her with his lips, tongue, and nose, as
she sucked and pulled harder and harder on his schlong.
    Suddenly, without warning, an orgasm sneaked up and swatted the Bandit
upside the proverbial head. His hips bucked and he managed a muffled "MMgd, M
CMNG!" as she swallowed jolt after jolt of thick, sticky semen, milking him
dry without spilling a drop.
    "Yum," she breathed, pulling off of his wet, swollen member. "That
was a lovely starter...now I want to fuck you." She turned around and snuggled
down on the bed beside him, pumping vigorously on his penis, which felt like
it was about to come off.
    "Uh, birth control?" The Bandit managed to get out.
    "Huh? Oh, damn!" Mary Magdalene let go of him, frowning. "I forgot to
pack my diaphragm!"
    "Uh, hold on a second, I'll be right back, sit tight, okay?" The
Bandit leaped off the bed, clanging his head against the upper bunk and
eliciting a half-laughed scream from Mary Magdalene, grabbed his bathrobe,
which barely covered his erection, and ran across the dorm room to the bedroom
where Conan lay snoring.
    "Conan! Conan, wake up!" The Bandit's voice was a panicked hiss.
    Conan didn't budge.
    "Conan! For God's sake, wake up, PLEASE!"
    "Hmm? Hmmph, whuzzza?"
    "Condoms! Conan, where do you keep your condoms?"
    "MMph, connmms?"
    "YES! Where are they?"
    "Desk dror'." Conan raised partly up off the bed and pointed at his
desk, then collapsed.
    "Thanks!" The Bandit opened the desk, rummaged through it frantically,
and came up holding a treasure beyond price: a Trojan with spermicide lube.
    Conan was already falling back asleep. "Whooyuh gnna fuk?"
    The Bandit looked over at him, opened his mouth, closed it again, and
then grinned wickedly. He leaned over Conan and whispered, "Mary Magdalene."
    "Oh. 'Snice...." Conan began to snore.
    The Bandit came running back into his room, saying, "Sorry for the
delay, hope you haven't cooled down too much, let's see here...." He sat down
on the edge of the bed, fumbling with the condom wrapper nervously.
    "Here, let me." Mary Magdalene deftly plucked the wrapper from his
hands, opened it with a gentle tear, and extracted the condom, tossing the
wrapper aside. She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him soundly, as one
expert hand rolled the condom onto his penis in a snap. "Now get in here and
do it to me," she breathed.
    "Uh, yes, ma'am," the Bandit gasped, feeling somewhat out of his
depth. He crawled on top of her, positioned the head of his cock at the
entrance to her vagina, and eased himself into her gently. He sighed and
relaxed on top of her as he felt himself bottom out in her pussy. "Okay?"
    "Oh, more than okay! Mmmmm!" She held him tightly and sighed in
pleasure as he began to thrust rhythmically, in and out, in and out.
    Coming twice in a short period of time isn't an easy feat. Coming
twice with the second time being wrapped in a condom is even harder. Two
hours, three rest breaks, and untold tiny orgasms for Mary Magdalene later,
the Bandit gave up and collapsed onto her with a grunt.
    "No more," he gasped. "Please....I'm dead...."
    "Oh, that's all right," Mary Magdalene said soothingly. "You felt
wonderful. I haven't come that often in ages! We'll try it again in the
morning. Sleep now, darling...."
    "In the morning?" The Bandit rolled off of her, pulling off the
condom and groaning. "Oh, God, no!"
    "We'll discuss it later," she whispered, silencing him with a kiss and
switching off the light by the bed. "Sleep well, Bandit."
    But the Bandit was already asleep. It had been a LONG day....




        PART 6: A mistake made, a mistake mended

October 1982

    The tiny dorm singlet wasn't as large or spacious as the old quad, but
it only held one man and his belongings, so it didn't have to be much more
than cozy. The bed stretched from end to end of the narrow space, with barely
enough room on the walls for two of the Roger Deans, and there was only a
ratty old bathmat on the floor in place of Zero's Persian rug, but the wires
and cables festooning every spare inch of space and the speakers mounted on
the walls were a sure sign that this was the Bandit's home, unspoiled by
Zero's obsessive neatness. The lights were out and there was no sound in the
room save the muffled hum of music through a pair of headphones and the dry,
sandy whisper of an occasional word or disjointed phrase.
    The Bandit was lying on his back on the rumpled bed, staring at the
ceiling as the music played on. It was "The Wall," the disheveled old tape
copy he'd played half to death in 1980 while mourning the loss of his last
high-school sweetheart. When he'd met Teenie, the tape had been gleefully
tossed into the back of his music crate and ignored for three years. But now
it was on again, and the Bandit found he remembered every word, every note.
    A hastily scrawled letter lay on the desk by the bed, beige parchment
smeared with Mary Magdalene's careless script. He'd read it only once, but he
could quote its contents verbatim.

    How dare you attempt to lay blame for what happened on me? How dare
you insinuate that the cruelty and misery I've been dragged through were all
my fault, and that you were some kind of a helpless victim? If you won't
accept kinder words, Bandit, then let me give it to you in your own unique
style: I do not want to be in any sort of relationship with you, ever again. I
deserve better than you, and I will not be dragged down to your level, and in
fact I think it better if we didn't even speak to one another again....

    The Bandit's lips moved unconsciously, following the lyrics of the
tape. He couldn't hear himself with the headphones on, so he couldn't have
known that he was singing out loud, a hoarse, miserable croak that somehow
would have fit in with the music, had anyone been listening.

    "Ooooh, babe, don't leave me now,
     How could you go?
     When you know how I need you, need you, need you, need you,
     To put through the shredder in front of my friends,
     Ooh BABE...."

    The summer was gone, a lingering pink fog that contained two or three
months of his life, now gone forever, the details blurry. He'd been SO in love
with her.... quit his lab job back home to stay in Arcadia and sling hash,
just so they could be together, found a miserable little room to sublet in a
boarding house on the edge of town and made it their love nest, barely eight
feet from wall to wall but it held them, held their love all night every
night, a womb, a cocoon, an oasis....
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    "I love you."
    Her breasts, slick with sweat and his saliva, slipping up and down the
length of his penis, her giggles as he expertly curved her diaphragm into a
perfect U-shape and slid it into her cunt, tickling her clit as he did, the
black, black fan of her long hair over his face as they slept, her head on his
shoulder....NO! Don't think of it, put it aside!

    "Hey you, out there in the cold,
     Getting lonely, getting old,
      Can you feel me?"

    When had it gone sour? The trip she took by herself to see that
concert when he couldn't get time off from work? The week he'd spent in bed
with the flu, when she didn't want to get infected? All he was sure of was
that when he'd returned in September, it was dead or dying. And he'd been the
one to deliver the deathblow--ENOUGH! DON'T THINK ABOUT IT!

    "You better make your face up in your favorite disguise--"

    It sprang into being unbidden, he couldn't hold it back any longer,
the night out in the lounge, him sitting alone, brooding and miserable, her
approaching timidly, a shaky smile--
    "Can I rest my head on your shoulder?"
    And then--why, why, WHY?-- that good old Bandit instinct:
    "Wait a second. Let me note down the date, here."

    "Sitting in a bunker, here behind my wall,
    Waiting for the worms to come...."

    It wasn't fair. All of the wonderful things he'd felt over the summer
were so hazy, so hard to grasp and hold onto, but the next thirty seconds were
etched into his brain like glass oozing under spilled acid... Her look of
agonized shock, as if he'd driven a stake into her heart, her headlong flight
out the door and into the night, and Conan--CONAN, of all people!--
    "Bandit, that was unquestionably the lowest shot I've ever seen."
    And the rush of the freezing wind as he ran out after her--
    "MaryMag, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--"
    "LEAVE ME ALONE, BANDIT, NOTHING YOU CAN SAY WILL DO MORE THAN HURT
ME, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
    And his forlorn wail in the night behind her as she ran:
    "I LOVE YOUUUUUU!"
    And then the cold meetings, his pleas for forgiveness, all the studied
cynicism coming back to haunt him...and finally the letter. That letter.
    And there was nothing at all left to say.
    The Bandit's eyes squeezed shut as a cry of utter agony echoed in his
ears, bringing the thunderous music to a crashing halt and leaving behind the
sad, sweet sound of a lone piano. A flood of tears began to pour down his
face, tears like he hadn't cried since the day they'd put Dad into the earth
and shovelled dirt on him, tears for the loss of something, of everything. And
he sang along with the tape, a plaintive wail that he didn't care who heard.

    "STOP!
     I wanna go home--
    Take off this uniform and leave the show.
    And I'm waiting in this cell because I have to know--
    Have I been guilty all this time?"

    In this cell. This tiny room, alone. No more music, no band, losing my
friends, failing school, alone, forgotten. I deserve it. I deserve it.
    "Oh, God help me...."
    The Bandit tossed the headphones away. He didn't want to hear the last
song, the one that hinted that there might be some hope left in his world. He
cried and cried, and at last he fell asleep.

November 1982

    "Knock, knock! Can I come in?"
    The Bandit looked up from his desk, startled, and pulled off his
headphones. He smiled and reached back to switch off the tape deck, saying,
"Sure, Twink. You're always welcome here."
    "Thanks!" She came in and shut the door behind her, her cheeks flushed
with the cold wind outside, her smile bright. She came over and stood behind
the Bandit's chair, bending over to hug his shoulders and kiss his cheek.
    "Hey," the Bandit said with a grin as he reached back behind him to
awkwardly return the hug, "What was that for?"
    "Oh, I just felt like it," Twink replied breezily. She did a neat
little pirouette and fell laughing onto his bed, leaning back on the woolen
covers and smiling at him with a look that told him volumes. The autumn sun
shone in her honey-blonde hair, and the Bandit felt that familiar catch in his
breath whenever she was near him.
    He put down his pen, and said, "Okay, okay, it's obvious I'm not going
to get any more grading done until you tell me what's on your mind. Did you
meet someone special over fall break, or something?"
    She nodded eagerly, her lower lip caught pensively between her teeth.
"He's called the Paladin," she said with a dreamy smile. "We met at a Dark Age
Society Revel back home...."
    "A WHAT?" The Bandit slapped his forehead. "Oh, Twink, you DIDN'T!"
    "Didn't what?" She frowned at him in sudden worry. "What's wrong?"
    "Oh, nothing," he replied disgustedly, grimacing. "Just bad memories,
that's all. The DAS and I have kind of a feud going on in my home town, and I
do my best to stay away from them. But," he added more solicitously, "Some of
them are very nice people, I must admit...."
    "He's WONDERFUL!" Her voice was practically quivering. "He was so
romantic, and so sweet and gentle....We're going to be married!"
    The Bandit's jaw dropped. "Married?"
    "YES! He proposed, and I said I'd have to think it over, and he said I
could take as long as I wanted because he'd wait forever for me! Oh, Bandit,
I'm so HAPPY!"
    The Bandit shook his head with a smile. "Well, if you're happy, I'm
happy, sweetheart. I just hope he takes good care of you, that's all."
    "Oh, he did, all right." Her smile was playfully wicked now.
    That sat the Bandit back in his chair more than the marriage proposal.
He asked in a faint whisper, "You mean he...You and he...?"
    "Uh-huh!" There were almost tears in her eyes. "I'm so glad I waited
for just the right time, Bandit! It was beautiful, and it didn't hurt at all!
I didn't even bleed, or anything! He was just, just GRAND!"
    "Wow." The Bandit scratched his head in a daze. "I, uh, don't know
what to say, I, um...wow."
    "Oh, c'mon, Bandit! I've never seen you at a loss for words before!"
Twink leaned forward and gently stroked the Bandit's cheek. "Are you jealous?"
    "Well, uh...." He looked into space for a moment, a thoughtful frown
on his face, then gave a short, sharp nod. "Yes, dammit! I am, I guess. I know
I don't have a right to be, but you're just so important to me, I kind of have
trouble with the idea of you jumping in the sack with a guy you barely know
and coming out engaged!"
    "Oh, no," she grinned, shaking her head. "I went IN engaged. I was
very clear on that point when we first met on Monday, when he asked me for the
first time to spend the night. And he said it was okay, and he didn't hassle
me or anything, and we spent the whole week together and we were so happy and
then he asked me to marry him and I--" She paused, out of breath, hands waving
in the air. "I just feel like FLYING!"
    The Bandit watched her emote, his eyebrows puckered into a forbidding
glower. As she finished, he carefully composed himself, his expression
neutral. "Did he give you an engagement ring?"
    "Uh, no, not yet," Twink sighed. "He didn't have the money, and we
didn't see anything we really liked at the DAS jewelry booths...."
    "Uh-huh." The Bandit nodded sagely.
    "He couldn't even find a nice ring with Guinevere helping, and she
knows ALL the best jewelers at the Revel! So we decided we could wait for the
PERFECT ring."
    "Who's Guinevere?"
    "His girlfriend," Twink said easily. "Ex-girlfriend, I mean. She was
really sweet about the whole thing, she said that he and she needed a little
space from one another and that she understood perfectly." She giggled. "She
even promised to keep him out of trouble for me while I was gone."
    "I'll just bet she did." The Bandit's lips pursed grimly.
    "Oh, lighten up, Bandit!" Twink gave him a playful shove. "I know
they're going to be together while I'm here, but it's okay...I trust him, and
he trusts me! We can have friends and people with us and still be true...."
    "Uh-huh," the Bandit said drily.
    "You seem skeptical," Twink said throatily, leaning forward and
giving the Bandit a good look down the front of her blouse. His eyebrows
raised. Since when has she started wearing red silk underwear? "That'd be a
real shame, considering the real reason I came over here...."
    "Oh? And what was that?" He was only half listening to her, trying to
get his mind off of the impressive cleavage that was closer to him than it'd
been in half a year.
    "To fuck your brains out," Twink sighed, grabbing the Bandit by the
hair and pulling him out of his chair and onto the bed with her. "I figured
that now that I'm not saving myself any more, I could at least give you a
taste of what you were decent enough not to demand when we were dating...."
    The Bandit allowed himself approximately two seconds of guilt over
forgetting the lonely torch he'd been carrying for Mary Magdalene for the past
month or six, and over the prospect of boinking another man's fiancee. Then he
gave the mental equivalent of a shrug, and kissed Twink as hard as he could. I
am but the slave of fickle Fate, he decided philosophically. If she's set on
expressing our friendship in such a, a, a UNIQUE fashion, then who'm I to
argue? YIPPEE! I don't know who you are, Paladin, but thanks a HEAP!
    He had almost forgotten what a wonderful body Twink had. Memories from
the dim past A. M. (Ante Magdalenus) came flooding back as he kicked his
sneakers off and pulled off her shoes and socks, never pausing to break the
incredible kiss they were sharing. His pants followed, then hers, then his
underwear and his shirt, then her blouse.
    She broke the kiss, panting, and pushed him away for a moment. He sat
back against his pillow, buck naked and hard as a rock, and she ran a hand
down his chest and stomach as she arched her back and purred at him, a coy
smile on her face as she flexed her muscles and proudly threw her breasts
forward, straining against the clinging red fabric.
    "You like?"
    "Si, I like."
    "Muchas gracias, senor," she laughed, sliding a finger down into her
cleavage. There was a tiny click, and the invisible front closure of the bra
sprang apart, leaving her breasts jiggling gently with each heaving breath.
She tossed the bra away, and slid her hands down her hips, peeling away the
matching red silk panties to reveal her lush golden curls of pubic down.
    "Now for a snack I've really missed," she chuckled, diving her head
down into his crotch. His lap vanished into a sun-kissed golden waterfall of
hair, and he dimly heard, "It tastes so gooommmmmmmmmmm...."
    "Oh, God!" The Bandit's eyes actually crossed. "Easy, Twinkles, easy!
I appreciate your, urk, enthusiasm, but you're, ooch, you're biting me!"
    "Oh, am I?" She sank her teeth into the base of his dong with a laugh.
    "YIKES! GENTLY, WOMAN!"
    "Hmmmm," she grinned, "Maybe I should let you put it someplace where I
don't have any teeth." She crawled up onto him, kissing his lips and pumping
on his penis with a tightly gripped fist.
    "Whoa! Whoa, time out, here!" The Bandit pushed her away gently.
    "What's wrong?" She stopped, puzzled.
    "Gotta get a condom," the Bandit explained, pulling a foil wrapper out
from under a pile of papers on his desk. Thank God I had a couple left from
before MaryMag (who? never heard of her. HAH!) started on the diaphragm, he
thought, tearing open the package and rolling the cold latex onto his shaft
with a grimace.
    "Oh, that looks so terribly uncomfortable, dear," Twink said with a
shake of her head. "Anything I can do to help?"
    "Yeah," the Bandit laughed, pulling her on top of him, "Help me warm
it up, it's cold!"
    "EEEEK! It IS cold," Twink laughed, feeling the cool, slick invader
between her moist thighs. "Help me, Bandit...I'm not good at this yet...."
    "My pleasure," he smiled, guiding his tool between her juicy labia and
feeling gently for the entrance to her cunt. His eyes widened in surprise.
    "Hey, you've still got your hymen! No wonder you didn't bleed!"
    "Really?" Twink looked down at herself in perplexity. "Why didn't it
break?"
    "Yours is ring-shaped, sweetheart," he explained, rubbing the tip of
his penis gently over the point in question. "It may have just stretched
rather than torn, that's all."
    "Oh. Well, let's see what you can do with it!" And with that, Twink
swiftly and surely lowered her full weight down onto the Bandit's hips.
    For a long minute, she just sat there, her body swaying back and forth
and her head thrown back as she gasped and panted at the feel of it. The
Bandit was in heaven, feeling the moist heat and clasping strength of her
untried young pussy even through the triply-accursed condom. Slowly he began
to buck his hips up and down on the mattress, pumping in and out of her hole.
    Twink matched his rhythm, stroke for stroke, levering her whole body
up onto her knees and slamming herself down on his rod with all of her might.
He reached up and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them and rolling her huge
nipples in his fingers as she bucked and tossed on him, grunting and moaning.
    Twink grabbed his hands and held them tightly to her breasts as she
screamed, "Oh! OH, GOD! I'M CUH, UH, UH, UH, AHHHHHH!" The feel of her cunt
contracting spasmodically about his penis was too much for the Bandit to bear,
and he grunted and heaved upward against her, semen spurting from him in
torrents. She collapsed atop him, sobbing, as he relaxed back against the
pillow with a groan.
    "Oh, Bandit, I love you! I'll love you forever, you're my best friend
in the whole world, I missed you so, I'll make you so happy...."
    "Shhhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I love you. I never stopped loving
you. What you've given me is so special, I, I just wnat to hold you. Shhhh,
please don't cry...."
    "C-can't help it, you kn-know that...it feels s-so GOOD...." She
hugged him fiercely and wept into his hair, her body shaking with the
aftershocks of her orgasm and her cunt spasmodically squeezing his shrinking
rod. "I felt you, I actually FELT you come in me! Even through the rubber, I
felt it, it was like molten FIRE, oh GOD, I LOVE you!"
    "Shhhh...Shhhhhh...."
    Outside, the setting sun slowly turned the air in the room to gold.

    It was night, the sky dark and the room almost as dark. The prison
cell's become a love nest again, the Bandit thought with a weary happiness.
What did I do to deserve someone like Twink? Thank you, God. I let her go
once; I won't make the same mistake again, I promise.
    "Mmmmm...Bandit, are you awake?"
    He smiled at her languid, sleepy whisper in the dark.
    "Yes," he said. "I'm glad to have you back, Twinkles."
    "For a while, anyway," Twink said with a practical tone he'd never
heard her use before. "I still have the Paladin to go back to, and you'll
leave Arcadia in May and never come back. But for now, we have each other. And
that's okay, isn't it?"
    He hugged her hard, feeling the agony of loss mixed with the weary
knowledge that she was right. It was that tiny, cold voice again, the one that
saw the future; he knew his promise was utterly empty. But I'll make her happy
anyway, he vowed. Even if she can't be mine, at least she can be happy for a
while....
    "Yes," he said. "Yes, it is. More than okay."
    "Hey!" Her questing, sleepy hand had found his limp, dry penis.
"Where'd the rubber go?"
    "I took it off after you fell asleep and I pulled out of you, dear.
It's dangerous to leave it in if you get soft; it can slip off."
    "Oh." She giggled. "Things were sure a lot easier the first time!"
    His entire body stiffened. Concerned, she looked up at him, and could
just make out the furious glare on his face.
    "What's wrong?"
    "Twink," he said carefully, "What did you do for birth control?"
    "Oh, don't worry," Twink replied brightly. "Is that all? You had me
worried for a second there, looking all sour like that! No, he took care of
everything!"
    "Be more specific," the Bandit said darkly.
    "Well, I couldn't get pregnant if he pulled out in time, right?"
    The Bandit's left hand, of its own accord, leaped off of his knee and
slapped his forehead so hard it left a red mark. "Aw, TWINK! JESUS CHRIST!"
    "What's the matter?" Her smile was gone now.
    "Withdrawal isn't any good as a form of birth control!" His next
phrase, 'Anyone with any sense knows that' or something similar, got pulled
and dumped before reaching his mouth. Twink doesn't HAVE any sense, idiot, he
reminded himself angrily. Or any education, or any experience.
    More calmly, he explained, "A man secretes more than enough sperm
cells to impregnate a woman just by penetration. He doesn't have to have an
orgasm-- Hell, he doesn't have to be IN you to knock you up! Don't you
remember how I'd never come anywhere near your pubes when we were going
together? Only in your mouth or your hand or on your tummy? Twink, I did it
for a reason!"
    Twink was looking shamefacedly down at the pillow. He gently lifted
her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye, and whispered, "Don't be
upset, you couldn't have known. And if HE'S from Bumfuck, North Dakota, like
you were, maybe he didn't know any better, either. When's your period due?"
    She bit her lip. "Not for a long time, now. I stopped bleeding right
before the Revel began."
    "Good!" The Bandit sighed in relief. "You wouldn't have ovulated yet,
with any luck, so maybe you got away with it this once. But PROMISE me
something, Twink! Never, never make love with him again if you don't have some
kind of real birth control handy! If he's not repsonsible enough to wear a
condom, then YOU have to be protected, with the Pill or a diaphragm or
SOMETHING!" He shook his head. "And you should probably make that snake in the
grass wear a condom, anyway, just so you don't catch anything."
    "Bandit!" Twink looked outraged, or at least as outraged as she ever
could manage. "Don't you talk about him like that!"
    "He nearly got you pregnant, Twink! What the hell would YOU call him!"
And I love you too much to tell you that I heartily doubt he's really planning
on marrying you just yet, kid, he added angrily to himself. One shock at a
time.
    "Look," he said gently, "I'll meet him someday, and I'll get to know
him before I judge him. But you have to admit he hasn't made a very good
impression to start out with."
    "I suppose not," she said unwillingly. Then, softly: "Bandit?"
    "Uh-huh?"
    "Will you come to our wedding?"
    He hugged her as hard as he could. "Of course, kid. Of course."

        PART 7: Making music, of various sorts

January 1983

    The Bandit rolled over languidly in bed, yawning and stretching. He
scratched his balls idly, then winced at a sudden stab of pain. Ouch, dammit,
he thought wearily. Must've been sleeping on my stomach or something. Feels
like my balls went and took a hike for the exercise!
    Beside him, Twink rolled over, kicking the blankets aside, and arched
her body back with a loud yawn. The Bandit idly watched her move, luxuriating
in the sight of her limber, gorgeous form. She saw him looking at her, smiled,
and with no effort at all bent her body so far back that a quick bend of the
knees was all it took to plant the soles of both feet on the top of her head.
    "That's incredible," the Bandit whispered. "How can you DO that?"
    "Mmmmm, it's easy if you stay in shape," Twink said, relaxing. She
shuffled sideways a bit, and eased herself down onto the Bandit, her breasts
gently teasing the sparse hair around his nipples. "I love waking up with your
come leaking out of me, darling...."
    "Hmmm," he smiled. "Sorry I couldn't oblige, last night."
    "What do you mean, couldn't oblige?" Twink slid a hand down the center
of her back and between her rounded, smooth buttocks. It came out wet and
slick with clear fluid. She held it up to his nose, and he sniffed at it
experimentally, frowning. "It sure seems that way to me!"
    "Huh." The Bandit scratched his stubbled chin. "But we didn't make
love last night!" His frown deepened. "Did we?"
    "Mmmm, I think you fucked me while I was asleep," Twink giggled. "I
had the most delicious dreams." Her slick hand wrapped around his
half-hardened penis and began to pump up and down. He winced and pulled her
hand away.
    "Ow! Yeah, yeah, all right, it sure feels like it." He shook his head.
"I just can't remember doing it, that's all. I sleep like a log, usually."
    "Bandit," Twink giggled, nuzzling his cheek, "Are you trying to tell
me that you were fucking me in your sleep? I've heard of sleepwalking, but
never 'sleepfucking'!"
    He laughed at the ludicrousness of the idea, but there was a note of
uncertainty in the laugh. What the hell was I dreaming about, he wondered. It
must've been the pizza again. When will I ever learn?

    "Too fast, too fast!" The Sloth held up a hand and waved the others to
silence. "Turn the tempo down, Bandit!"
    "But you just told me to turn it up!"
    "Oh, SHIT!" The Sloth got up from his electric piano and began to pace
angrily. "Man, this is NOT going to work...."
    "The music's gotta breathe," Zero said quietly. "Machines don't
breathe. That's the problem, right there."
    "I know that, dammit!" The Sloth switched off the rhythm box and sat
back down at the keyboard stack. "We naturally follow one another, but the
machine just keeps on going its own merry way. No tempo changes, no buildup of
tension, no laying back on quiet stretches...."
    "No attitude problems," the Bandit snapped at him. "No showing up late
for practice, no tuning up while we're trying to work, no lugging three drum
cases and a trap set up five flights of stairs, no threats to leave us high
and dry if we don't put up with infantile behavior!"
    "All right, all RIGHT!" The Sloth yelled. "WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS!"
    "Take five to cool off, you two," Zero said, taking off his guitar.
"You're both getting too steamed to think, much less play."
    The Bandit and the Sloth both glared at him. The Bandit suddenly broke
into a sheepish grin, and the Sloth shook his head, smiling. He got up from
the piano again, stretching, and stalked slowly out of the room, saying, "I'm
going to go get a drink of water. Be right back."
    The Bandit watched him go, his huge bulk rolling gently from side to
side like a battleship in heavy seas. "He's got a lot going for him," he said
quietly. "I wish I had my act together as well as he does when I was a
freshman."
    "Yeah, well, we've been saying we needed a keyboardist for a long
while now," Zero replied. "He's got good taste, good hands, and a pretty fair
setup." He looked coolly at the Bandit. "I think we were lucky to find him."
    "Oh, I agree," the Bandit nodded. "HE isn't the problem. The problem
is that little box over there...." He pointed at the rhythm machine. "We just
can't work with it. He's right, and I know he's right. And he knows I know
he's right. And I know he knows I know he's right."
    "Yes, but does HE know that?" Zero grinned.
    "Yep, I do," replied the Sloth, coming back into the room. He wiped a
forearm across his mouth, and said, "The water fountain's right outside. If
you guys want to talk about me behind my back, you should close the door
first."
    The Bandit sighed. "Geez, you can't even compliment a guy without
getting into hot water!"
    "Life's tough," Zero agreed. "Seriously, though, I think it's about
time we admitted we were in trouble. We've been trying to rehearse for nearly
two months now, and without a drummer things just aren't coming together."
    The Bandit looked belligerent for a few seconds, and then deflated,
sitting down on his stool and cradling his bass on his lap. "You're right," he
groaned. "I know I'm gonna hate myself in the morning for admitting it, but
you guys are right. We need a drummer. But where the hell are we gonna find
one?"
    "Good question," the Sloth answered without rancor. "I am but a lowly
freshman. Tell me, O Great Senior and Junior friends of mine, where does one
go to get drummers around here?"
    Zero smiled without mirth. The Bandit looked grim.
    "Wrong question, huh?"
    "You know it, Sloth," the Bandit said humorlessly. "Drummers are a
rare commodity in Arcadia. Every band that tries to get off the ground needs
one, and the ones who are good enough to play generally have to fill in on
three or four different bands. They're in demand, so they get away with
murder. Man, I miss Livewire!"
    "He's the guy that beat up the entire Security Squad last year,
right?" The Sloth looked a bit queasy. "WONDERFUL guy."
    "He was, actually," Zero interjected mildly, cutting off the Bandit's
angry retort. "Enthusiastic, well-equipped, and all ours. Nobody else could
get decent results out of him, but with the Bandit in control he was a real
pistol."
    "So we're back to Square One," the Sloth sighed. "We need a drummer.
We're screwed without one. And there are none to be had. Now what?"
    The Bandit got up and walked slowly to the door. "End of rehearsal,"
he said quietly. "I need to brainstorm."

February 1983

    "So, I hear you guys are going to be doing some concerts eventually,"
Starch said casually, sipping his Coke to wash down the last bit of dessert.
    "Eventually," The Sloth agreed. "Once we can find a drummer, that is."
    "A drummer? Ooh, bad news," Starch said, shaking his head
sympathetically. "Good luck. You guys are gonna need it."
    "Thanks," Zero said quietly, dabbing at his chin with a napkin. The
lunchtime crowd in Scum Central was just beginning to thicken into the
critical mass that always seemed to center around twelve noon, with tables
filling up rapidly and knots of people collecting and breaking apart like
streams of bubbles in a swift river.
    "I'd loan you Buckshot, but, well, he's booked solid," Starch grinned.
The Bandit scowled at that; Buckshot, widely considered the best drummer in
Arcadia, was a hot property, and Starch had him all to himself. The first time
they'd played together to see what each other could do, Starch and Buckshot
had gotten along famously, leaving the Bandit out in the cold with the quiet
kid with the fast hands and the big beak. He made it a point not to complain,
since he and Zero had been friends ever since, but getting one's nose rubbed
in one's troubles was a common risk in talking with Starch, who seemed to
thrive on other people's misfortunes.
    "No, thanks," the Bandit said acidly, "I'd hate to pull the one good
musician you've got out of your greasy little hands, Starchy."
    "Not the only one," Starch said smoothly. "Slats is easily as good a
bassist as you are, I'm not impressed by what I've heard this new kid of yours
play, and as for guitar, well, our new guitarist can work miracles!"
    "Very fun--" The Bandit stopped dead. He looked at Starch narrowly.
"Work miracles?"
    "Yep," Starch grinned. "Your loss is my gain, Bandit. The Rainbow
Wizard, the best damn rhythm stylist in this school and a dynamite voice!"
    "You backstabbing shitpile," the Bandit hissed, standing up.
    "Cool, Bandit," Zero said. "We don't need the Wiz, you know that."
    "No, you don't," Starch said. "What you need is a drummer, and with
that pathetic sicko Livewire off in a padded cell somewhere--"
    The Bandit took two swift steps to Starch's side.
    "You touch me, you're expelled from Arcadia," Starch said casually,
not looking up as he picked his teeth with a fingernail. "School rules."
    The Bandit just stood there, seething.
    "You know your problem, Bandit?"
    "Why don't you tell me, you fudgepacker?"
    "Your problem," Starch drawled, leaning back in his chair and looking
boredly up at the fuming young man beside him, "Is that you know what you
want, but you don't have the wherewithal to get it. You scrape together a few
puny victories, and stand on them like a turtle on a rock, crowing about how
great you are. Zero! This Sloth kid! Big fucking deal! It took you two and a
half years to assemble this lineup, and you've got less than four months to
make your mark before you're out of here. Where are you going to get a
drummer, huh? You don't even know where to look!"
    "When we had Livewire, we blew the doors off your crummy crew," Zero
whispered tightly.
    "Did you? He couldn't play half of what Buckshot can! And you never
had a keyboardist, even with Zero bonking the best pianist in Arcadia, 'cause
she wouldn't be caught dead in the same room as the Bandit! Pitiful." He
looked up at the Bandit, relishing each word. "You are going to be in my
shadow for the rest of your time here. Deal with it."
    The Bandit just stood there, trembling with anger.
    "You can't get what you need, much less what you want," Starch
continued gaily. "Not here, not anywhere. I get what I want, Bandit. I sat
through the Wiz's stupid speeches on miracles and healing power to get myself
a vocalist who could rival you, I set up Buckshot like a king to have a rhythm
section I could rely on, and I'm going to be playing shows while you're still
trying to find a drummer." He whirled in his chair suddenly, cocking a finger
behind him. "You see that girl over there?"
    The Bandit followed his gaze to a nearby table, where a group of
freshmen were sitting and chatting, most of them girls. The young women were
all attractive, but one stood out: a wide-shouldered girl with a long fall of
silky brown hair, a cherubic round face, and what promised to be a delectable
body under a demure white blouse and long skirt. She chatted and gesticulated
vivaciously with the others, bursting with energy and life.
    "What about her," the Bandit whispered.
    "She doesn't know I exist yet," Starch said mildly. "But I've scoped
her out. She's called Blitz, and she's going to be my girlfriend."
    "Just like that," the Sloth sneered.
    "Yup," Starch shrugged. He looked from the Bandit, to Zero, to the
Sloth. "I'm going to get up from this table. I'm going to leave you losers
behind. And I'm going to go over there and start talking to her. And she's
going to like me. A lot. I'm an upperclassman, with a band, and lots of
interesting things to talk about. I'll start simple. Ask her to a movie or
something. Then maybe a date at the Union, in the Clean Room or the Burger
Bar. And so on." He looked over at Zero, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"She won't have a chance."
    "Nope," Zero agreed, his grin widening.
    "Not a chance," the Sloth said with a placid smile.
    Starch looked from one to the other, his smirk dissolving into a
frown. He turned around, and his eyes widened in disbelief.
    Across the room, the other young ladies were whispering to one another
excitedly as the Bandit, wearing his best smile, pulled up a chair beside
Blitz and began chatting with her.

    "Excuse me...."
    "Yes?"
    "Could I speak with you a moment, miss?"
    "Certainly. What can I do for you?"
    "Uh, nothing, actually. Other than look like you're enjoying my
company, that is. Do you mind?"
    "Well, it sounds intriguing, that's for sure. What's going on?"
    "There's a guy at a table behind you who thinks he's God's gift to
women, who's telling everyone how he's going to come over here and sweep you
off your feet. Any second now, he's going to turn around and see us, and if
you look like you're enjoying my company, I hope it'll teach him a lesson
about treating women as human beings rather than objects to be traded like
baseball cards."
    "In other words, you want to be seen cutting in on his option."
    "Ouch! I deserved that."
    "You certainly did. I'm not used to being used as a bargaining chip in
somebody's game of 'Mine's-Longer-Than-Yours'."
    "You're quite correct. I'm sorry. Shall I leave?"
    "No, you may as well stick around and try to amuse me, seeing as how
you've driven off everyone else I was talking to...."
    "I have? Oh, shit! Now I really AM sorry!"
    "Meaning you weren't before?"
    "Nope, I wasn't. But it seemed the thing to say at the time."
    "Ah, so you're admitting you're as scummy as he is!"
    "Of course. Worse, even."
    "Then why come here and annoy me?"
    "So he can't. Do I need another reason?"
    "I suppose not. Do you do this sort of thing often?"
    "Honestly, or would you prefer a believable lie?"
    "You haven't managed a believable lie yet, so let's try the truth."
    "O-kay. I've never done this sort of thing before."
    "Ugh! Stick to the lies."
    "Suit yourself. Er...'Once in a while, just to get his dander up. I
can't imagine why you're so miffed; all the other girls seem to love it!'"
    "Better. I like the English accent."
    "Suits me, does it?"
    "No, but it's funnier than anything else you've said."
    "Ah. Well. May I try another truth, at the risk of more ridicule?"
    "You can certainly try."
    "You are unquestionably the most witty and intelligent young woman
with whom I've spoken intimately in a very long time."
    "Why, thank you, sir! How very kind."
    "You believed me?"
    "It's easier when you're paying me a compliment. Thank you."
    "You're welcome. You realize, of course, that it's now your turn to
compliment me on something or another, however trifling."
    "Must I?"
    "It's only polite."
    "Ah, well. I...I admire your candor."
    "Thank you."
    "And I think you're amazingly sexy."
    "....I beg your pardon?"
    "I said, I think you're amazingly sexy. You've been undressing me with
your eyes ever since you sat down here, and you're radiating so many
pheromones I'm about to come all over the inside of my skirt."
    "Ah, now who's lying?"
    "Well, actually the 'coming in the skirt' part WAS a bit of hyperbole,
but I really do think you're kinda cute. Can you open beer bottles with those
two front teeth?"
    "Well....yes, actually."
    "You're kidding!"
    "No, really! I don't do it anymore, though; I'm afraid I'll break a
tooth."
    "That would be too bad, wouldn't it? The dentist would have a terrible
time matching that particular shade...."
    "Ouch again! You do enjoy bastinado, don't you?"
    "Only with the right man. By the way, I'm Blitz."
    "I'm the Bandit. Pleased to meet you."

March 1983

    "What do you think?" The Bandit switched off the tape, and looked at
Zero and the Sloth carefully. They looked at one another silently, and the
Bandit chewed on his lower lip anxiously as he waited for their answer.
    Finally, Zero nodded. "I honestly do like it."
    "Me, too," the Sloth said. He grinned widely. "Lots. How'd you do it?"
    "It wasn't easy," the Bandit said with a relieved smile. "I created a
bunch of tape loops of drum parts from records, where the drums are all by
themselves, y'know? Then I played the loops over and over onto a final master
tape, and spliced everything together to make one big drum part that we can
play back." He patted the tape machine fondly. "With the foot control, I can
speed it up or slow it down to follow what we're doing, and even fade it out
for parts where we don't need drums!"
    "How long did it take you?"
    "Oh, God, I started on it the day we decided the machine wasn't going
to do it, I guess. It took me six weeks just to get the loops right!"
    "Well, I hope you made a safety copy, because I'll be real upset if we
lose it!" The Sloth shook his head in amazement. "A drum tape! What a concept!
You didn't make that up yourself, did you?"
    "Of course not," the Bandit grinned. "But that's what being a Bandit's
all about, right?" He dug into his pocket and pulled out two cassettes. "Here
are copies of the loops. You can paractice with them, and write down whatever
changes you think they need. Then we can do some serious rehearsing, in time
for the Spring Fling. Wait'll Starch hears this! He'll shit!"
    "Great stuff, Bandit. Later!" Zero pocketed the tape and headed off
down the hall. The Sloth nodded assent as he shambled out of the room. The
Bandit was grinning like an idiot as he switched off the tape deck and
carefully packed the precious tape reel away. Never mess with the Bandit,
Starch, he thought gleefully.
    He pulled on his jacket, locked his room behind him, and stepped down
the hall and out the front doors into the light, misting rain. It wasn't the
sort of rain that got you really soaked; even with the leisurely walk across
the campus, he was barely damp by the time he reached the Western Habitat, a
virtual mirror image of the Eastern Habitat where he and his friends lived.
    He showed his card to the door guard, was let inside, and strode up
the two flights of stairs and down the hall to the third door on the left. He
knocked softly.
    "Who is it?"
    "The Bandit."
    "Oh, hi!" The door flew open, and Blitz welcomed her visitor with a
hug and kiss. "How'd it go?"
    "Fantastic. They think we'll be able to use the loops with no trouble
at all. Am I a genius, or what?"
    "Well, you picked me," Blitz laughed, pulling him down beside her on
the bed and kissing him soundly.
    "True enough," he whispered, caressing her ribcage.
    "I talked to Twink today," Blitz said without preamble.
    "Oh!" He drew away from her, suddenly uncomfortable. "What about?"
    "About you, mostly." Blitz looked at him seriously. "She really loves
you a lot, Bandit. More than I do. More than I ever could, probably."
    "Yeah, well." The Bandit looked down at the floor. "She deserves
better than me. I hope this Paladin guy takes good care of her...."
    "Apparently he does," she smiled. "She says she would've had a hard
time with the fact that we were seeing each other, if it weren't for how she
was dividing her time between you and the Paladin. I like her, Bandit; she's
not very sharp, but she's got a good heart, and people like that are hard to
come by. Since she and I both have friends in the DAS, we're probably going to
end up being pretty good friends, I think."
    "Really?" The Bandit smiled widely. "That's wonderful! Dammit, Blitz,
I don't know why I didn't introduce the two of you earlier! You'd be perfect
for her; she needs to spend time with someone who doesn't let herself be
pushed around!"
    "True," Blitz said. "Of course, you know damn well why you didn't
introduce us; one look at me with you and she'd have started bawling."
    "You're probably right," the Bandit sighed.
    "Not that meeting me without you around was any easier," Blitz said
with a wry look. "I had to hold a hanky over her nose and get her to blow."
    "Thanks," the Bandit muttered. "Just what I wanted to hear...."
    "Oh, come on, Bandit!" Blitz hugged him hard. "It's okay. We've come
to an understanding. And that means I don't have to worry any longer about
doing something like this." And with that, she began to stroke the crotch of
the Bandit's pants gently. He kissed her fiercely and rolled her over onto the
bed, himself on top of her.
    "I've waited long enough for you to kick these gentlemanly habits,
Bandit," Blitz whispered. "I've been masturbating for the past hour, and my
diaphragm is in. If you don't finally relax enough to give me a good dicking
and stop worrying about Twink, not only will I never forgive you, but I don't
think she will, either!"
    "Say what?" The Bandit looked down at her in surprise.
    "Her period's just started," Blitz grinned. "She's not in the mood for
anything beyond a cuddle, but she knows you're going to be horny as hell
tonight. So I promised I'd leave you too sore to bother her!"
    "Great," the Bandit said, remembering his first night with Mary
Magdalene. Blitz chuckled and licked the inside of his ear gently, nibbling on
the earlobe as she unbuckled his pants and hauled out his penis, which was
stiffening rapidly.
    "Oh, wow," she whispered into his ear, "It feels great!"
    "Yes, it does," the Bandit agreed, one hand up her skirt and under her
soaked panties. He dipped a finger into her dripping cunt, then another and
another. She was spread, wet and slick, waiting.
    "Oh! Uh! No foreplay," Blitz gasped, "Just stick it in, hurry!" SHe
hauled up her skirt to her waist, and tore off her panties frantically. Her
pussy, oozing wet and swollen pink, was raised up off the mattress at him.
    The Bandit, confronted with a spread like that, didn't have to argue.
He climbed atop her, pushing his pants down around his ankles, and carefully
positioned his penis at the entry to her pussy. A few tentative strokes of the
swollen glans against her labia had her moaning eagerly.
    "You son of a bitch, I said stick it IN!" Her legs came up off the
bed, wrapped tightly around his waist, and pulled him forward and down. His
penis caught in the folds of her pussy lips and bent over double.
    "YAII!" He pushed back off of her, panting. "EASY, WOMAN!"
    "Yes, I am an easy woman," she smiled up at him. "But not cheap."
She tried again, more gently this time, and he slid into her effortlessly.
"Mmmmmmm, oh, yeah! Fuck me, Bandit! Fuck me hard!"
    "As you command, madam," he gasped, humping up and down furiously.
It's interesting how your dick can't tell the difference between one pussy and
another, he thought dimly. If we were in the dark, I couldn't tell if I were
fucking her or Twink or even Teenie. Weird.
    The next few minutes passed without words. The only sounds in the room
were the squishing noises of fleshing pistoning in and out of wet flesh, the
slap, slap, slap of his scrotum against her cunt, her groans and his.
    "I'm...gonna...come soon," he gritted.
    "Come, uh, come when you're ready," she responded in gasps.
    "UNH! UNH! UNH!" He went rigid, feeling himslef unload into her, and
slowly collapsed like a deflating balloon. Apt simile, he thought, sinking
down atop her with a sigh.
    "That was well worth the wait," he whispered, kissing her ear.
    "It was indeed," she replied softly. "Could you please pull out of me
so I can keep from ruining my clothes and blankets?"
    "Hm? Uh, sure," he said, scrambling off of her clumsily. She retrieved
a wad of Kleenex from the box by her bed, cleaning herself off with a few deft
swipes. She stood up, straightening her skirt, and kissed his shrinking penis
as he started to pull up his pants. At the touch of her lips, it flopped over
to one side as if to wave goodbye.
    "We'd better hurry if we want to make dinner," Blitz said matter-of-
factly, grabbing her coat. "Good thing this is your night off, or you'd really
be in trouble." She smiled brightly. "I told Twink to save us seats at the
dinner table tonight."
    The Bandit smiled at her as he zipped up his pants. "Did you come?"
    "No," she said, handing him his jacket, "But don't worry about it. I
loved feeling you within me, and it was wonderful all around. But I almost
never actually get all the way to an orgasm, so don't get all hung up over it.
Okay?"
    He looked at her dubiously. "Okay." Suddenly he stopped, and pointed
at the sodden heap on the floor by the door. "Hey, your panties!"
    "Don't need them," Blitz grinned wickedly. "You won't tell." She
glided out into the hall. "Coming, dearest?"
    "Jeez," the Bandit muttered, closing the door behind him.

        PART 8: This is how it ends

Early May 1983

    The Bandit blinked, and suddenly it was May.
    How the hell did this happen, he wondered idly to himself as he
crossed the wide lawn before the Student Union, listening to the chatter and
laughter of the May Day crowds, the last crazy dance before Reading Period and
finals began. One minute I'm a freshman, wet behind the ears and pimply and
terrified and excited and happy all at the same time, and the next thing you
know it's almost over!
    The hot sun beat down upon his back and shoulders, turning his pale
skin brown at the edges of his tank top. His jeans were hot and uncomfortable
in the baking, humid air, but he still couldn't bring himself to wear shorts.
His sandals, already worn through, chafed his feet as he stalked across the
grass, looking idly from side to side at the revelers and the booths selling
trinkets for the passersby: T-shirts with pictures of Marx and Einstein, beer
mugs with the Arcadia seal on them, hand-carved wooden sculptures....
    I'm alone, the Bandit thought, suddenly tired for some reason. I have
friends everywhere, two women who love me, and yet I'm alone. Something's not
right here. He stepped up to a vendor standing over a bucket of pint bottles
in crushed ice, and dug in his pocket for a quarter. Money changed hands for a
Fresca, and he sipped at it idly as he found a sunny spot on the grass that
hadn't yet been trampled into soaking mud and sat down heavily.
    This was supposed to be the easiest time of my college career, he
mused. Both of my majors completed, Honor Roll, credit hours and senior
project up to par... I could flunk everything and still graduate. So why am I
so tired all of a sudden?
    He belched loudly and grimaced. Because you're a workaholic, you
asshole, he answered himself sharply. You live for work, you'll die for it
someday, and you've immersed yourself in the hardest semester you've ever had,
just to keep busy while the dreaded specter of Post-College Life creeps up on
you....
    It's better than thinking about other things, he pointed out.
    True, he replied ruefully. True.
    A pinwheel of color suddenly whirled across the corner of his vision.
He turned to look, and smiled despite himself; it was Flower, in a flowered
sundress, turning cartwheels on the lawn for a laughing Rainbow Wizard. He saw
a flash of bare, tanned legs and pink panties for the barest instant, and his
eyes narrowed speculatively. Well, there were a lot of things I didn't get a
chance to do before I left, he thought philosophically.
    "Hey! Bandit?"
    Speaking of which, he sighed, looking behind him.
    Diva came strolling up to him, her pudgy legs tanning nicely in the
sun and her breasts swaying under her loose, sleeveless sweatshirt. She was
barefoot in the grass, and her face was made pleasant by an uncharacteristic
smile. He nodded to her, and was surprised to see her sit down beside him.
    "What can I do for you , Diva?"
    "Oh, nothing," Diva smiled, tucking her mousy hair back under her
headband. "Zero wandered off, and I figured he'd gravitate this way
eventually. Have you seen him?"
    "Not all day," the Bandit replied. "I haven't really seen much of
anybody all day, actually."
    "No! Really? I thought you always had a crowd around you," she teased.
    "Humph," he glowered. Then he smiled, a thought occurring to him. "I
caught your Junior Recital last week," he said. "You were fantastic, as
usual. Nervous, maybe, but fantastic."
    "Oh, well," she said, coloring slightly, "I was just upset about the
way the jury handled the scoring. It was too damn arbitrary for me." She
smiled again. "But Mama and Papa seemed to like it."
    "They were in the audience? I didn't see them."
    "Oh, they were there," Diva smiled. "They wouldn't have missed it for
the world. Why didn't we see you at the reception afterwards?"
    Now it was the Bandit's turn to redden. "Oh, uh, well, I didn't think
it would've been appropriate for me to show up," he muttered.
    "Not appropriate? Bandit, we've known each other for years!" She
seemed genuinely offended. "If not you, then who?"
    "Oh, come on, Diva!" The Bandit's discomfort mingled with
defensiveness. "You can't tell me you would've wanted me hanging out at your
reception!"
    "And why not?" She raised a haughty eyebrow. "Are you implying that we
think we're too good for you?"
    "I never said that," he huffed. "It's just that, well, you and I
haven't always been on the best of terms, that's all. I didn't want to make
you uncomfortable."
    "Well, that's very solicitous of you," she sniffed, "But this was
hardly a black-tie affair. I don't think anyone would have fainted if a few
people in blue jeans had shown up to express their congratulations...."
    "A few--?" His eyes narrowed. "Diva, how many people showed up?"
    Her eyes were sad. "Maybe a couple of dozen, plus my parents."
    "Oh, shit." He met her gaze squarely. "Diva, I'm sorry, it just seemed
that with all the suits and ties around I would've looked like a fool...."
    "Maybe you would have, if you'd come alone," Diva said hotly. "But
where was everybody else?"
    "How the hell should I know? I wasn't about to herd them into the
recital hall at gunpoint! If you like Mozart and Ravel, okay. If not--" He
shrugged. "Your classical friends were all there, I'll bet."
    "Most of them." She sighed. "It's not important."
    The Bandit looked at her as she picked up a blade of grass and twirled
it between her fingers. What happened to the regal Diva, he wondered, the
haughty and proud mistress of the ivories? This is just a girl, fresh out of
her teens and lonely. Where was she these past years? Why didn't I see her?
    "Diva," he said uncertainly, "I know we've had our bad moments in the
past...." His voice trailed off. He suddenly realized that she was looking at
him carefully, her china-blue eyes wide.
    Gamely he continued, "I just wanted to say that I, uh, I...."
    "Hey, there you are! I've been looking all over for you!"
    The Bandit turned around with a jerk, to see Zero standing behind him,
holding an awkwardly-shaped package wrapped in his hand and smiling down at
them. The Bandit stood up swiftly, as did Diva. She smiled at Zero, a happier
smile than the Bandit had seen in a long time.
    "Just talking to your friend, here," she said with a laugh in her
voice. "Are you ready for lunch?"
    "Yup. Starving!"
    "Great, so'm I. Bandit? Join us?"
    "Uh, no thanks," he said reflexively. "You two lovebirds go on without
me, I'll be along as soon as I can scare up Blitz or Twink."
    "Suit yourself," Zero said mildly. Diva looked at the Bandit for a
long moment, then suddenly hugged him swiftly and hard.
    "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.
    And then she was gone, hand in hand with Zero on their way to Scum
Central. The Bandit stood there looking after them, savoring her scent and the
soft, pillowy breasts that had pressed against his chest for the barest
moment.
    Suddenly he looked down at his feet, remembering. "Aw, shit," he
muttered to himself, more in defeat than anger, and picked up the spilled
bottle of Fresca from the grass.

Mid-May 1983

    "Knock, knock!" The Bandit stuck his head in the doorway. "Hey, Twink?
Is anybody ho--"
    His voice cut off abruptly. Twink was scrambling to her feet and
facing him, out of the embrace of a tall, handsome blonde guy in a linen shirt
and brown pants tied with a rope belt. "Hi, Bandit," she said, blushing
scarlet. "I wasn't expecting you."
    "Apparently not," he replied mildly, burying his impulses (run away,
cry, scream, commit acts of unspeakable violence) beneath a shell of instant
calm. "Should I come back later?"
    "Oh, no! We'll be gone later! I mean, I finished my last exam this
morning, and by tonight we'll be on the road back home!" She motioned behind
her to the tall young man, who was standing up and buttoning his shirt
casually. "I've wanted the two of you to meet each other for nearly a year
now," she continued nervously. "Paladin, this is the Bandit."
    "Pleasure to meet you!" The Paladin flashed a perfect, winning smile,
and held out a hand. The Bandit took it, returning the smile carefully.
    "Pleased." He paused a moment, letting go of the hand. "You came down
here to pick her up?"
    "Yeah," the Paladin nodded with an easy smile. "We'll load up my truck
with her things and hit the road for North Dakota by dinnertime. We hope to be
well on our way by nightfall...." He ducked his head, a sad expression
fleeting across his rugged face. "Sorry we won't have a chance to get to know
each other better...."
    Yeah, I'll bet, thought the Bandit, as he spread his hands with a
forced smile. "These things happen," he said. "There'll be other times."
    "Will there?" The Paladin looked puzzled. "I thought you were
graduating this year."
    "I am," the Bandit replied calmly. "Why should that stop me from
seeing Twink every now and again?"
    "Hm," was the thoughtful reply. "You're right. You're right. Sorry."
    "No problem." You sleazebag.
    "Bandit, we'd love for you to come to dinner with us before we leave,"
Twink said brightly. "We could talk--"
    "I'm afraid not," the Bandit interrupted her. "My last exam's tonight,
and I have to study. I came over to say my goodbyes." He turned to face the
Paladin squarely. "Will you excuse us for a minute?"
    "Sure," the Paladin grinned. "Take your time. Should I step outside?"
    I'd love to ask you to step outside, you grinning gigolo. "No, thanks.
We'll step outside." He motioned to the door, and Twink stepped out into the
hallway. He followed her, shutting the door behind them.
    "I'm sorry," Twink whispered urgently. "I didn't want to surprise you
like this...." He laid a finger on her lips, shushing her gently.
    "It's okay," he said. "I knew this day would come. I want you to have
a safe trip home, and stay in touch with me. You have my address and phone
number?"
    "Of course. I'll call or write when I get a chance, I promise. Bandit,
please don't be sad. I'm going to be happy at home, and I want you to be
happy, too!"
    "I'll do my best," he said with a little smile. "Can I kiss you
goodbye, at least?"
    "Just try to leave without it," she replied, her eyes shiny with
tears. He took her in his arms and reveled in the feel of her soft, yielding
curves one last time: her breasts, the flare of her ribs, her waist and hips,
her gentle touch on his lips....
    He broke the kiss, sadly but firmly. "Goodbye, love."
    "Goodbye...." Twink reluctantly pulled her arms down from around his
neck, half turned to open the door, then suddenly threw herself into the
Bandit's arms, hugging him so hard he thought he'd faint. "Oh, Bandit, I love
you so...."
    He hugged her back, hard. "And I love you, Twink. Always will."
    "I know...." She pulled away again, sniffling. "Excuse me, I gotta go
blow my nose...." She turned away and ran down the hall, pushing open the door
to the women's room and vanishing.
    The Bandit watched her go, tears welling up in his eyes. He looked
back at the closed door, and something hot, suffocating and thick welled up in
his throat, threatening to choke him to death on the spot. He threw the door
open and glared at the Paladin, who'd looked up from reading one of Twink's
books in surprise.
    "You take care of her, Paladin." His voice was an evil hiss.
    The Paladin's eyebrows raised, and he smiled. "Oh, I plan to."
    "Yeah, well try to do a better job than you did popping her cherry!"
    "She told you about that?" The Paladin's smile vanished.
    "You bet your ass she did. I don't care what she thinks of you,
Paladin; you're a snake in the grass, in my book. And God help you if I find
out you've hurt her...."
    "Are you threatening me?"
    "No." The Bandit's arm arced upward in a blur, and the Paladin heard
something whip past his ear and bury itself in the wooden bookcase beside him.
"I'm making a promise." And with that, the door slammed and the Bandit was
gone.
    When Twink came in a few seconds later, the Paladin was still staring
at the knife, inches from his face. "Darling, what's wrong?"
    He turned to her, his voice thick with disbelief and rage. "Your
ex-boyfriend just tried to kill me!"
    Twink looked at the knife and smiled. "No he didn't," she said with a
self-assurance she'd never felt in quite the same way before. "At this range,
if he'd wanted to kill you, he would have." She strode over to the bookcase
and retrieved the knife with a tug. It was his favorite throwing dagger, the
black U.S. Air Force survival blade with the hammer butt. She stood staring
down at it, tears in her eyes.
    "You want to go give it back to him?" The Paladin sneered.
    "No, I'm keeping it," Twink said softly. "He left it for me, to
remember him by...." Her voice broke.
    She stepped into the other part of her room, closing the door behind
her, and he heard rummaging sounds, followed by a nose being blown violently
and a couple of loud sniffs. The door opened, and Twink came out, all smiles
and with only the barest hint of red in her eyes to show that she'd been
crying. "Let's finish packing, sweetheart."
    He smiled and gave her a comforting squeeze. "I know he meant a lot to
you," he said softly. "But you'll see him again...." He began to pack books
from the shelves into the crates she'd bought for the move. Twink stepped past
him, reaching for more books, and froze as her gaze wandered outside her
window.
    A lonely figure was standing out in the rain, staring up at her. As
she watched, it waved something and carefully set it down at the base of a
nearby tree, almost invisible in the grey afternoon. With a final wave, it
turned and ran off into the rain.
    It was the Bandit. He'd left behind the sheath for his knife.
    Twink smiled and turned to her task with a will, humming Stravinksy to
herself. I'll pick it up on the way to dinner, she thought happily. That guy.
Trust him never to do anything halfway....
    "What are you smiling at?" The Paladin grinned at her.
    Twink leaned forward, kissing him soundly. "I am thinking," she
whispered, "Of the man I love more than anything else in the world."
    "Mmmm," he said approvingly, dropping his armload of books and
wrapping his arms around her, bearing her down onto the bed.
    Goodbye, Bandit, she thought as waves of pleasure swept over her with
his wandering hands. Be as happy as I will.
    Please?

Late May 1983

    "I can't help but think that this will be the last time we'll ever be
doing this," the Bandit said softly, his hand tracing the ripe curve of
Blitz's hip.
    "Oh, don't get all drippy and sentimental on me, you jerk," Blitz
laughed, rolling over and pushing him onto his back. "You know damn well that
it won't be the last time! You're coming out to the shore to visit me this
summer, and we're going to fuck 'til we drop for two weeks! So think of it as
a temporary goodbye, and concentrate on making it a good one, okay?"
    He found himself smiling back at her. "Okay, I won't argue."
    "Why the hell'd I ever have to fall in love with you, Bandit?" She
straddled his hips, gently caressing his hard, pulsing member. "It was so much
easier when it was all just lust, when you were fucking me to make Starch mad
and I was fucking you because my boyfriend wanted to sleep three nights a
week...." She slid forward a little bit and began to rub her labia over the
underside of his penis, wetting it with her juices and sighing with the
pleasurable ripples it sent up and down her nerves.
    "Not for me, it wasn't," the Bandit said between sighs. "I can't just
fuck a woman because of a physical attraction...there has to be something
emotional there...."
    "Why?" She stopped what she was doing and looked down at him, hands
indignantly on her hips. "Why?"
    "Because if there isn't," he replied, reaching up to gently fondle her
breasts, "Then we're no different from rutting animals."
    "I have bad news for you, Bandit," she sighed as her wide, purplish-
pink nipples swelled and hardened under his expert fingers, "We ARE no
different from rutting animals. The emotional baggage is just manufactured
bullshit, and we ought to be able...ooohhhhh....purrrrrrrr...to recognize it
as such...."
    "Okay, then," he said impishly, "Answer your own question: why did you
have to fall in love with me?"
    She grabbed his hands with hers, pulling them roughly away from her
breasts. "Because I know the difference between making love and being in love,
that's why! We made love for a long time, before I fell in love with you!"
    "Oh, really?" He began to move his hips slowly, rubbing his penis
against her labia. "I was in love with you from day one...."
    "Then you're an idiot," she moaned, "Because you didn't take the time
to really learn what was worth loving in me, you just tacked it on as you went
along, starting with the sex...mmmmm...."
    "Maybe so," he admitted, returning to his nipple-play, "But we seem to
have ended up okay, anyway...."
    "This time," she insisted, biting her lip to keep her thoughts in
order. "You got started with me the same way you got started with Twink, or
Teenie....you got into my pants, and then you decided you loved me. What the
hell's going to happen when you start to think with your brain instead of your
gonads, and make FRIENDS with a woman before you sleep with her?"
    The Bandit stopped what he was doing, thinking hard for a moment. Then
he grinned, that old Bandit grin. "I'll probably get married," he laughed.
"But for now, can we settle for a good, straightforward bye-bye fuck?"
    "Mmmmm, yes, you asshole," Blitz replied, reaching down and seizing
his length firmly. "That'll...have to...doooooOOOOOOOO...." She lifted herself
up slightly, stuffed the tip of his penis into her moist crevice, and sat.
    "Ahhhhh," the Bandit gasped as he felt her warm wetness engulf him.
"I'm gonna miss this...."
    "So am I, you son of a bitch," she moaned, bucking up and down as his
hands tightened over her breasts. "Too damn much for my own good...."
    "MMmf, gonna come soon...."
    "Come when you're ready...."
    "Sure?"
    "Yes, I'm sure."
    "Positive?"
    "Yes, I'm positive!"
    "Abso--mmph!--lutely?"
    "COME IN ME, ALREADY! You're turning purple!"
    "Okay--UNGH! UH! UH!" He heaved up to meet her and she sighed and
moaned as his hot, sticky juices filled her to overflowing. She slowly settled
onto him, a panting, sweating coverlet on his trembling chest.
    The same whispered question: "Did you come?"
    The same soft answer: "No. But you felt wonderful. Don't worry."
    Sigh.
    After a long, long while, she rolled off of him, his limp penis
sliding out of her with a wet plop, and reached for the roll of toilet paper
he kept by the bed to clean herself up. He followed suit, and kissed her
breasts one last time as she fastened her bra and put on her blouse. They
dressed quickly, and he held the door open for her as she left his room.
    The walk across campus to her dorm was made in silence. As they
approached the front doors, she turned to him and gave him a quick hug.
    "See you in July."
    "I'm counting the days...."
    "'Bye." A light kiss on his cheek, and she swiftly stepped through the
doors and vanished into a stairwell with a parting wave.
    The Bandit waved back, then sighed, thrusting his hands into his
jacket pockets and turning for the short walk home. The beginnings of another
storm began to patter raindrops on the leaves as he hunched his shoulders and
hurried away into the night.

Memorial Day, 1983

    "Hey, Bandit! Looking sharp!" Zero looked the Bandit over, as he
struck a dignified pose in his black gown and mortarboard. "Not bad, not bad.
But I would've preferred paisley."
    "Gee, thanks." The Bandit gave him an affectionate squeeze. "It's
gonna be a tough road without you, bro'. I'm gonna miss you."
    "That's how it works, kemosabe," Zero shrugged with a faint smile.
"But we haven't seen the last of each other yet. You and Diva are from the
same home town, right?"
    "Well, sort of," the Bandit said. "You've been there! It's nearly an
hour's drive from her place to my folks' house. Are you going to visit her
family over breaks?"
    "Probably not," Zero said with a grimace, "Seeing as how they don't
approve of me. But we'll both be in your shoes next May, and if the job
market's good I may decide to relocate! Sound good?"
    "REALLY? Oh, YEAH!" The Bandit hugged Zero hard, his mortarboard
falling to the ground. "I can hardly wait!"
    "Great," Zero laughed, handing him his mortarboard.
    "What will you be doing this summer?"
    "I'll be staying in Arcadia, actually," was the surprising reply. "I
got a good job offer, so I decided to try what you did last year."
    "Hopefully with better results," the Bandit said with a wry face.
    "Hopefully," Zero grinned quietly. "Well, they're lining up; good
luck, kemosabe." He gave the Bandit one last hug, and walked off.
    The Bandit watched him walking down to where Conan and the Rainbow
Wizard were standing at the edge of the Commencement crowd, a smile on his
face. Zero living at home? YOW! The Dynamic Duo will ride again!
    "....Bandit?"
    The timid voice made him turn sharply, his smile vanishing.
    "What do you want?" His voice was cool.
    Mary Magdalene ran her hands down the hem of her dress, uncomfortable
under his gaze. "I, I just wanted to say goodbye." She looked up at him
pleadingly, her dark eyes meeting his. "I couldn't let you leave with things
between us the way they are. I know we've hurt each other terribly, but that's
as much my fault as your own. I just put too much of myself into you, too soon
after the Rainbow Wizard. It wasn't all your doing...."
    He looked down at his feet, chafing in the unfamiliar dress shoes. "I
know," he said softly. "I understand."
    "I'm leaving Arcadia," she said softly.
    He looked up at her, his eyes wide. "You're WHAT?"
    "I'm leaving Arcadia." Her voice was firm. "There are too many
memories for me here, and not enough real opportunities. I'm going to New
England, where my brother lives with his wife. They'll let me stay with them
and help take care of their baby while I look for work in a recording studio
or something." She smiled, the million-candlepower MaryMag smile that could
take the paint off a rocket booster. "I used to dream dreams that were my own,
not someone else's. I'm going to try to get them back."
    "I'm glad," the Bandit said. "At least you learned that much...."
    "I learned a lot from you, Bandit," she said. "I wouldn't have traded
our time together for amything. I...I thought you should know that." She
looked at him uncertainly.
    He smiled. "I know. And I want you to know that I feel the same." He
blinked at her in the bright sun, and his smile turned shy. "Can I kiss you
goodbye?"
    She nodded, laughing aloud. "Same old Bandit! C'mere."
    "Mmmmmm," he said, relishing her wonderful mouth once more.
    "Mmmm," she replied, squeezing him gently. Then the kiss was broken,
and she waved a little wave with her fingers as she turned away and ran to
join the crowd. He waved after her, licking his lips for the last of her
taste.
    From the edge of the crowd, Conan saw the kiss, and shook his head in
exasperation. "Geez," he muttered, "How does he DO it?"
    "He has the touch," Zero said softly, watching Mary Magdalene as she
approached them with a smile. "He just...has the touch."
    The Bandit looked down the hill at the tiny knot of people that were
his last friends in Arcadia. He waved, a goodbye that held the promise of fun
and good times in the shadowy years that lay beyond college, and ran to join
the line of gowns and mortarboards that was slowly beginning to move ahead.
The familiar strains of "Pomp and Circumstance" filled the open courtyard as
the Class of 1983, the Bandit in their midst, stepped forward to receive their
diplomas and take on the world.

    EPILOGUE: What was that old saying about going home again?

Mid-January 1984

    "It was a dark and stormy night...."
    Twink winced and put the book down. Gee whiz, she thought blankly, I'd
never have dreamed that anyone would literally use that to start off a book!
It's appropriate, though, she added to herself as she looked out the window at
the pouring rain. The chill of January had lifted just enough to turn a
blizzard of snow into sheets of thick, chilling rain that soaked to the bone
and leached away all warmth. It had been a perfect day to stay inside, she
thought, and tomorrow would be soon enough to go out and face the world....
    She looked at the clock. Nearly midnight. Soon the security gates
would come down, and the building would be buttoned up safely for the night.
She sighed, set the book on the table by her bed, and began to undress. She
was down to bra and panties when she was startled by a timid knock at the
door.
    Twink looked up at the door, dropping her blouse on the floor in her
sudden shock. She quickly walked to the closet and drew out her bathrobe,
tying it around herself as she cautiously called, "Who is it?"
    "Twink?"
    Twink's eyes went wide. That voice....
    "B--Bandit?" Her voice was a choked whisper.
    "Open the door? Please?" The voice was very soft, almost weak.
    Twink was at the door in two steps, throwing it open wide. The Bandit
was standing before her, shivering miserably in a snow parka and jeans that
were dripping with rain. His hair was matted down over his forehead, and his
eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles, as if he hadn't slept in a
long time. He smiled, a feeble shadow of the famous Bandit grin. "H--Hi."
    Twink just stared at him for a bare second, then threw her arms around
him and hugged him to her fiercely. "Oh, BANDIT!"
    "No! No, don't, I'm soaking wet, I'm freezing," the Bandit said
quickly, pulling her away from him. "You'll catch cold--" He sneezed
violently.
    "Sounds like you already have," Twink said with a worried look,
pulling him into her room and shutting the door. She began to remove his
parka. "Get out of those wet things before you freeze. I'll pop them in the
dryer while you go down the hall and take a nice, long shower to warm up.
There's some soap, shampoo and a towel in the top drawer." She stripped off
his wet clothes, layer by layer: he was soaked clear through, his skin
wrinkled and icy to the touch. Even his penis seemed shrunken and miserable,
huddled against itself in the chill. Twink, all business, didn't even touch
it. She handed the Bandit her room key, and said, "I expect you to be in the
shower when I get back. Okay?"
    "Ok--kay," he said through chattering teeth as she shut the door on
her way out. He pulled open the drawer and retrieved the necessary items, his
fingers numb and trembling, and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom. It was
deserted, he noted quickly as he poked his head in the door. Quickly he
stepped inside and into one of the shower stalls, throwing on the hot water
full blast. He stepped into the shower, wincing, and just stood under the
steaming spray, his eyes closed. Five minutes passed, then another five. His
trembling gradually stopped. He stretched luxuriantly under the water, then
turned it down to a more reasonable temperature and began to soap his hair.
    "Bandit? Are you in there?"
    He smiled at the sound of Twink's voice, echoing eerily in the tiled
room. "Yeah, it's me," he said, his voice much more assured than it had been a
few minutes before.
    "Oh, good," Twink said, drawing aside the shower curtain and stepping
in beside him. She was as naked as he was, and was smiling in expectation of
his reaction. She stopped. He was facing away from her, into the spray, and
was rinsing off his face and head. "Are you going to join me?" His burbling
call was too loud for one who knew she was in there with him.
    Twink's smile turned playful. "Sure," she whispered as she slipped her
arms around his waist and began to fondle his penis, which was already nearly
hard. The Bandit jumped at her touch, then relaxed against her as her hand
wrapped around his shaft and began to rhythmically squeeze it and stroke it up
and down. He reached behind him, holding out the soap.
    "Here," he laughed. "As long as you're in here, make yourself useful."
    Twink took the soap and began to lather the Bandit's body gently. His
shoulders, his back, his sides and under his arms, then his hips, his
buttocks, and around to his penis and testicles and up his stomach and chest.
He leaned back against her and sighed as she worked, saying, "That feels
heavenly...."
    "Your turn," Twink replied, gently turning him around and handing him
the soap. She stepped into his arms and kissed him gently as he soaped the
broad curves of her back and shoulders, down to her buttocks and hips. He
broke the kiss and turned her around, leaning her forward against the wall of
the shower stall as he reached around her to soap and rub her belly and full,
hanging breasts.
    Twink gasped as she felt his hardness in the cleft between her cheeks.
"Bandit, be careful! I'm not protected!"
    "Good point," the Bandit sighed, turning her so the spray could rinse
her clean. He grinned at her as she rinsed her long blonde tresses in the
spray, adding, "We're probably about to run out of hot water, anyway. I can
fuck you in the shower some other time."
    A few minutes later they were back in Twink's room, wrapped in dry
towels and sipping hot chocolate on her bed. The hollows under the Bandit's
eyes were still there, but he looked 100% better, Twink decided happily. Now
that I know he'll be okay....
    "What are you doing here, Bandit?"
    The Bandit looked sheepish. "I was coming to visit you and everyone
else at Arcadia for a few days. I thought I would be here during the early
evening, so I could talk to everybody and make arrangements for where to stay,
but I had car trouble about twenty miles south of Arcadia and had to get a tow
the rest of the way. My car's in the shop until Monday at the earliest. I
didn't get on campus until after eleven, and I didn't know where else to try,
so I came here. Would you like me to call Zero and ask for some floor space?"
    "Don't be silly," Twink smiled. "You're with me for the duration."
    The Bandit actually looked relieved. "Thanks," he said with a more
confident grin than she'd seen from him yet. "That's good to know...."
    "Why wouldn't you stay here?"
    He shrugged. "What if the Paladin were visiting?"
    "Oh." Twink rested her chin on her hand thoughtfully. "I hadn't
thought of that. It would be kind of awkward, wouldn't it?" She smiled
suddenly and added, "Well, that's not important. We saw each other over Winter
Break, and we'll see each other again in March. But for now, Guinevere's
probably keeping him warm on those cold North Dakota nights, and now I have
you to keep ME warm." She leaned forward and kissed his lips gently.
    "You're trembling," she smiled, pulling away slightly.
    "I always tremble when I'm near you," he whispered. He set his cup of
chocolate down on the table and took hers from her hand, setting it aside as
well. He reached out for her, twining his fingers in her damp hair and kissing
her hungrily as he fell forward onto her, pushing her down on her back.
    "Wait, wait," she protested around his lips. "Please."
    "What's the matter?" He drew back from her, suddenly concerned.
    "I want to show you something I learned how to do this summer, back
home," she said with a little giggle. She gently pushed him off of her, her
towel falling away as she did so. She lay back on the pillow, golden and
naked, and spread her legs apart for him, her perfect labia glistening with
the last few drops of water from the shower. Smiling up at him, she reached
into the drawer in the bed table and drew out a metal tube and a small plastic
package, which she opened to remove a small cup-shaped object of pink plastic.
    The Bandit's eyes narrowed with interest. "What is that? It's too
small to be a diaphragm...."
    "It's a cervical cap," Twink said, licking her lips in concentration
as she carefully applied a thin bead of clear fluid from the tube into the
cup, coating it evenly. "My gynecologist said I wasn't built properly for a
diaphragm to work well, and that a cap would be safer. Here, watch this."
She reached down and spread her labia apart, exposing the red inner folds of
her vagina, and deftly slipped the cap into her. "Oooh, it's always cold at
first," she laughed, tucking it into place with two ladylike fingers. Wiping
her hands on her towel, she said, "Now we have to wait a few minutes...."
    "No problem," the Bandit replied with an evil grin. He suddenly knelt
down before her and buried his face in her groin, his tongue finding her
clitoris almost instantly. Twink's eyes flew wide open, then as swiftly
squeezed tightly shut, as she arched her back and began to grind her hips into
his face. Her pussy was moist and dripping with fluids, and the Bandit slurped
and sucked away merrily as he felt her start to come, and come, and come....
    He pulled away from her, licking his lips. "Want more?"
    "Uh, mmmm, don't stop, Bandit, please! I'm coming, lots of little
ones, oh God, please don't stop!"
    "All righty." He returned to his task, his tongue flicking over her
clit as it swelled and swelled and her moans grew louder and louder.
    "Twink?"
    "Mmmm--yeah?"
    "Have I waited long (slurp) enough?"
    "Hmmm? OH! Uh, yeah, I think so, climb on top of me, hurry!"
    He didn't need any further encouragement. He kissed his way up her
belly and past her breasts, wiping his face on her skin as he went, and kissed
her hard as he lowered himself between her legs. The taste of her juices on
his lips seemed to excite her more than ever, and she frantically reached down
and grasped him, pulling his length to the opening of her cunt.
    "Fuck me, oh, hurry, FUCK ME!"
    "Yes, ma'am." The Bandit slid into her easily, and she gasped as he
set up a steady, pounding rhythm. She was wound up as taut as a bridge cable,
and he'd been holding back for this moment, so it only took a minute or two of
hard stroking before she gasped and cried out with another orgasm as he
emptied himself into her with a long-drawn sigh of relief. He collapsed on top
of her, exhausted, as her fumbling fingers found and pressed the light switch.
    "I'm glad to be back...."
    "Welcome home, love. Sleep well."

    The morning sun streamed into the room, bathing furniture and naked
bodies alike in soft warmth. There was no trace of last night's storm, and the
sky was friendly and blue over the Bandit and Twink as they lay intertwined in
bed, whispering to one another in the glow that settles after a good night's
sleep and a waking to gentle, teasing loveplay and mutual orgasm.
    "I missed you so...." There were tears in Twink's eyes.
    "I missed you, too," the Bandit smiled, hugging her tightly. "You're a
big part of the reason why I came to visit. I wanted to see how you were, make
sure you were doing okay. Am I being too protective of you?"
    "Yes," she said simply, "But I don't mind. It's a way of telling me
you love me, and I'll never turn that aside." She smiled and shut her eyes as
his fingers gently traced the outline of a broad, swollen nipple. "Mmmmm!"
    "Has your pussy been lonely without me?" He bent down to kiss the
nipple gently, rolling it across his tongue.
    "Not really," she sighed, holding his head to her breast.
    "No?" He mumbled around his mouthful. "I'm jealous. You can really
last that long between bouts with the Paladin?"
    "Well, no," she said uncertainly. "That's not what I meant."
    He stopped. Slowly he pulled away and looked up at her. "You're seeing
somebody else?"
    "Only once or twice," she said softly. Her eyes were full of pain, a
reflection of the pain she saw in his eyes. "They were just scattered
incidents....at the time, they seemed the right thing to do....please don't
hate me for it...."
    "Oh, Twink, I don't hate you!" The Bandit hugged her hard, her head
cradled on his shoulder. He sighed. "Were you at least careful?"
    "Oh, yes! I always used my cap, and I trusted them not to have
anything catching."
    "Anyone I know?"
    "Well...yes, actually." Something in her voice made him pull away and
look her in the eye.
    "Like who?"
    "....Zero."
    The Bandit's eyes popped. "You slept with my BEST FRIEND?"
    She returned his accusing gaze coolly. "I slept with Zero," she said
with as much dignity as she could manage with tears pouring down her face. "I
can assure you that the fact that he was your best friend never entered into
things. In fact, I didn't think about you very much at all during the whole
incident."
    "I'm not surprised," the Bandit muttered. "So, what did you think of
his, what the hell's he call it, 'Jimi'?"
    "It was incredible," she said softly, her eyes shining with the
memory. "We went for hours and hours. Once the bleeding stopped, it was like
nothing I'd ever felt before!"
    "Once the--" The Bandit frowned, remembering. "Oh. Your hymen."
    "Yup." She smiled, brushing his hair back from his eyes. "You and the
Paladin only stretched it out. But he tore it wide open on the first push. I
screamed bloody murder, he thought he'd killed me. But after the pain went
away, he was--" She stopped. "Please don't hate HIM for it, Bandit. It was my
idea. I was so lonely, and so was he...it just, well, it just happened."
    "Wait a minute! HE was lonely? With a hose monster like Diva sucking
him dry every night? What the hell happened?"
    "Oh, my God, you didn't know!" Her hand flew to her mouth.
    "Know what?"
    "They broke up in September, just after she came back to school."
    "Whoa, hold it a second. ZERO and DIVA--"
    "Broke up." She nodded.
    "Lord God Almighty! I turn my back for ten seconds and the Universe
starts unraveling!" The Bandit fell back on the pillows, one hand over his
face. "How the hell did THAT happen?"
    "Well, she came back and found out he'd been sleeping with Mary
Magdalene over the summer, and--" Twink stopped short as he looked aghast at
her. "Oh. You didn't know about that, either."
    "No. I didn't." He fell back again, staring at the ceiling. What the
hell happened, he wondered. My best friend's dinked every girl I ever loved in
this school. Except Teenie, and she doesn't count. Why me?
    "Bandit? Are you okay? You look pale."
    "Uh, I'm fine. Let's just say it takes a little getting used to."
    She remained unconvinced. "I think I hit you with too much, too soon."
    "No, I'm all right. If he didn't hurt you, then I have no animosity
toward him. He's still my best friend." Even if he HAS been sticking that
mutant monstrosity into every pussy I love....Christ!
    He sighed and looked at her. "Anyone else?"
    "Well...." She looked uncertain. "Did I tell you about Mary
Magdalene?"
    "Yeah, you just said--" He stopped, his mouth suddenly going dry.
"Wait a minute," he croaked. "About Mary Magdalene and...who?"
    "Me," she said, her eyes downcast.
    A vision exploded in the Bandit's skull, full technicolor with Dolby
stereo: Twink sinking back onto her back on this very bed, her smooth body
open and inviting, her arms outstretched and a smile of pure ecstasy on her
face as Mary Magdalene's breasts dangled over hers and she leaned down and--
    "Um, no," he said, shivering slightly. "You hadn't mentioned that."
    "We did it acouple of times," Twink said softly, "When the world was
being tough on one or the other of us... After the time with Zero--"
    "WHAT?" The vision was back, but this time there was a new element:
Mary Magdalene kneeling on Zero's hips and pumping up and down on his huge
shaft, Twink sitting on his face with his huge nose probing her pussy, the two
women he loved more than anyone smiling at one another, leaning forward and
kissing, oh, God, KISSING EACH OTHER--
    "How--how was it?" His voice was a terrified croak.
    Twink thought a moment, and then shrugged. "Crowded," she said.
    The Bandit's eyebrow raised. "Crowded?"
    "Yeah," she nodded. "Crowded."
    The Bandit began to laugh. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed until
he was crying, and Twink was holding him against her breast and laughing and
crying with him. "I love you," she said between sobs. "Nobody can open my
heart, no matter what the rest of my body tells me. Nobody but you, and the
man I'm marrying. Did I ever tell you why I wanted to stay a virgin?"
    "No," he whispered into her hair.
    "I had to," she whispered. "I had to keep something of myself back
from you. I knew, I, I just knew th-that if I let you take me that way you'd
take all of me, a-and I'd be lost forever....I LOVED you too m-MUCH...."
    "Aw, Twink!" Zero, Mary Magdalene, Diva were forgotten in moments.
"Never love someone that much! Never, NEVER love someone that much! It's bad,
it hurts you, promise me you won't, promise me!"
    "I love you, Bandit...." She kissed him, tears running down his neck.
"I know we could never make it work, I know that, but I...."
    "Shhhhh....shhhhhhh...." He held her closely, rocking her against him.
    For a long time, the room was silent.

    "Hi, gang!"
    Eight heads turned sharply at the familiar greeting, long gone unheard
in the East Habitat Main Lounge. Eight pairs of eyes could only stare in shock
as the Bandit calmly sat down in a free chair and smiled around him.
    "No, it's not a mirage," he chuckled. "How is everyone?"
    At that, the Lounge erupted into life. The Bandit found himself being
bodily lifted up off the ground and crushed half to death by Conan.
    "BANDIT!"
    "I'm--whoof!--glad to see you too, big guy!"
    "When'd you get here?"
    "Last night. Put me down!"
    Bone and Thud shook hands with the Bandit, grinning widely.
    "Yo, Bone! Hi, Thud. Made any decisions, yet?"
    "Actually, I may be ordained, AND become gay," Thud said pleasantly.
"In this day and age, the two aren't always mutually exclusive."
    "What the heck," the Bandit said, shaking his head. "Hi, Diva. Can I
hug you without getting kicked in the groin?"
    "Of course, Bandit! What a question!" She smiled and hugged him
tightly, kissing him on the cheek. Suddenly he felt her tongue flick his
earlobe gently, and heard a tiny whisper. "You and me, later."
    The Bandit wasn't as unprepared for this as he might've been. His face
betrayed nothing as he let go of Diva and shook hands warmly with the Rainbow
Wizard, and gave Flower a polite kiss on the cheek. "Good to see you again,
Wiz. Still in remission, I hope?"
    "I had an incident over the summer," the Rainbow Wizard replied. "The
doctors tried out some new medication, and it didn't sit well with me. But I'm
okay now." He smiled beatifically. "Life beyond Arcadia seems to have treated
you well, Bandit."
    "I can't complain," the Bandit grinned. "How's it going, Lanky?"
    "Real well. Graduation bound, like everyone else!" Lanky's hair was
now nearly to his waist, and he brushed it back from his face and smiled at
the Bandit, who was shaking hands with Plaids.
    "Howdy, Plaid Thang! Still the master of playing with the organ?"
    Plaids blushed furiously amidst the ripple of laughter. "Actually,
yes," he said quietly. "I've nailed a position as a church organist back home
once I graduate. The pay isn't great, but it's a start...."
    "That's fantastic news!" He smiled around him at the friendly faces,
his eyes bright. "Damn, it's good to be back!" He looked around. "Anyone know
where Zero and the Sloth are?"
    He didn't miss the sudden frown on Diva's face. "They're in the
Recital Hall over at the Music School," the Rainbow Wizard said with a
smile. "They're scheduled to do a concert this afternoon and play the Clean
Room tonight, and they've been having a terrible time getting set up. It seems
they've overstretched themselves in their attempts to outdo Starch and
myself."
    The Bandit's eyes narrowed at the Wiz's too-superior tone. "Oh,
really?" he drawled. "Well, I think I'll just mosey on over there and see
what's what." He turned and headed for the door. "Later, gang."
    "Was that necessary?" Diva demanded angrily.
    "It seemed so at the time," the Rainbow Wizard said mildly.

    "Shit, shit, SHIT!" The Sloth stopped the tape recorder angrily, and
began threading the tape back onto the reels from its tangled heap on the
ground. "I can't learn to do this in three hours! We're sunk!"
    "No, you're not," came a strange voice from the other end of the room.
The Sloth and Zero, both covered in patchcords and cable, looked up in
surprise, and both smiled widely as the Bandit strolled down the aisle to the
stage. He bounded up to meet them, gave Zero a hard hug, then followed suit
with the Sloth. "I hear you guys need an extra pair of hands...."
    "What are you doing here, Bandit?" Zero asked curiously.
    "Later on, I'll be reminiscing with you two over a beer or three," the
Bandit replied crisply. "But for now, I'm helping you out of a jam. What's up,
and is there anything I can do to help?"
    "No," said the Sloth.
    "YES," Zero said firmly. He glared at the Sloth, and continued, "That
taped-drum dingus you designed isn't working very well. Neither the Sloth nor
I can get it to run as cleanly as you used to. We could use your touch."
    His eyes carefully on the Sloth, who was looking away from him and
scowling, the Bandit said, "If the taped drums weren't working, why are you
even attempting to use them? They were my idea. Why weren't you guys doing
something more suited to just the two of you?"
    "We are," the Sloth said, not turning around. "But not now."
    Zero explained, "Remember that concert we gave at the Music School
right before Commencement last year? Well, the new Chancellor heard about it
soon after he was inaugurated, and expressed a lot of interest, since none of
us are Music School students and we generated more press than anyone in the
School last year. So he asked us to give a repeat performance of the set for
him and some visiting bigshots, and anyone else who wanted to come." He waved
his arms about him at the tangle of disorganized synthesizers, mixing gear,
and tape machines. "And here we are."
    "Why didn't you call me?"
    "No time," Zero said. "Besides, the Sloth wanted us to try it
ourselves, to see if we could do it without you." He looked over at the Sloth,
who had folded his arms angrily and was still looking away from them.
    "That's stupid!" The Bandit exploded. "You know how much acrobatics is
involved in setting everything up! It's a miracle the three of us could pull
it off--with two, it'll be impossible!"
    The Sloth whirled to face him. "I'm just pissed off that you think you
can come waltzing in here and wave your magic wand and make everything all
right again, just like that! We're doing all right for ourselves without you,
Bandit! We've got a new band, we've got a new bassist, a new drummer, a new
singer-- we didn't curl up and die after you left! And I RESENT like HELL the
implication that we did, and that we're helpless without you!"
    "I NEVER IMPLIED THAT!" The Bandit was barely half the Sloth's size,
but when he got angry there was no louder voice in Arcadia. "But this is a
trio for synthesis and stringed instruments! You can't do it with two people
any more than you can do a string quartet properly with no violin!"
    More calmly, he continued, "You're not proving anything by accepting
the Chancellor's request, other than that you were too proud to realize what a
mistake you were making. I didn't come back here to save your bacon, I came
back here to visit my so-called FRIENDS!" He glared fiercely at the two of
them. "I wouldn't have even known about it if the Rainbow Wizard hadn't
gloated to me that you two IDIOTS were about to fall flat on your FACES!"
    "Bandit, we--"
    "SHUT UP!" The Bandit's eyes burned. "I helped compose this piece. I
designed the setup for this piece. I played one third of the parts on this
piece! And you have NO RIGHT to perform it without me, or without my knowledge
and my permission! I've got half a mind to sit in the audience, right next to
Starch and his gang of baby scarers, and laugh at you while you make fools of
yourselves in front of the Chancellor!" His took a deep breath. "You've got a
choice. Either work with me or don't. But if you don't, make damn sure you
stand up and tell the audience that you're two people trying to do three
people's work, or I'LL stand up and tell them MYSELF, because I don't want MY
good name mangled because of YOUR stupid pride. And if you do, make damn sure
you tell everyone that this is the last time you'll do this stuff, because the
next time I won't be here."
    There was a long silence. Then the Sloth turned to the Bandit, and
sighed. "All right, mea culpa," he said. "Maybe I DID have something to prove.
To you, to Starch...to me. But I don't have to like getting bailed out like
this!"
    "Who says you're getting bailed out?" The Bandit smiled softly. "I
haven't rehearsed this piece in eight months. If we get it to work it'll be a
miracle! But if you guys'll have me, we'll give it a go, all right?"
    "...All right," the Sloth nodded reluctantly.
    "All right," Zero said with his old smile.
    "Well, good! And next time, do your OWN stuff, okay? I'm looking
forward to hearing your new band tonight in the Clean Room, and I don't want
to hear nothing but rehashes of the old tunes we did with Livewire!"
    "Point taken," the Sloth said. "Now help me with this stupid tape."

    The audience let out a sigh of released breath as the last note of the
song faded away into silence. There was a polite patter of applause that soon
swelled into a strong ovation as the Chancellor stood up, followed by everyone
else in the small Recital Hall. Twink's eyes were bright as the Bandit,
sweating and shaky with exhaustion, set down the bass he'd been loaned for the
day and stepped to the front of the stage to take his bows with the Sloth and
Zero. He waved to Mary Magdalene, who was sitting in the back row and
applauding furiously. "There will be no encore," he said into the microphone,
"And this is the last time our trio will perform this piece. Thank you all for
attending. Good afternoon." He bowed again, and left the stage with Zero and
the Sloth behind him.
    Outside the stage door, in the deserted hallway of the Music Building,
the Sloth opened a storage locker and hauled out his post-concert kit: three
towels and three quarts of Gatorade, which Zero and the Bandit accepted
gratefully. They were swigging it down and wiping their sweaty faces when the
Chancellor came around the corner, all smiles.
    "A marvelous concert, gentlemen! I was most impressed, and so, I
believe, were the Electronic Music faculty." He chuckled. "They left in quite
a hurry. I daresay they're going to change the locks on the studio doors, to
prevent other usurpers from teaching themselves electronic music after hours!"
    "I was an Electronic Music Student for a while, sir," the Sloth said,
shaking the Chancellor's hand. "I kept working my tail off and getting C's on
my projects. Finally, for my last project, I just gave up and handed in a bunch
of spliced-together tape scraps I fished out of the garbage." He paused for
effect. "I got an A."
    The Chancellor roared with laughter. "Typical academic mindset," he
said with a smile. "We need more students like you to keep our professors in
line." He turned to Zero, ignoring the rapidly-growing line of well-wishers
behind him. "A marvelous job, young man. And you're not a guitar student?"
    "No, sir," Zero said. "Self-taught."
    "My." He shook his head. "I can not believe it. Well, keep it up;
you're doing famously." Then he turned to the Bandit. "You, young man, are
familiar from somewhere...."
    "We met at an alumni function this past fall," the Bandit replied
easily. "You were out stumping for funds, and we chatted a bit. I graduated
last year; the piece was first performed right before my Commencement."
    "Oh, now I remember you." The Chancellor frowned slightly. "You're the
young man who told me I was doing for Arcadia what Reagan is doing for the
United States." Zero's eyes widened at that. So did the Sloth's.
    The Bandit just smiled. "I'm flattered that you remember me."
    "Well," the Chancellor said with forced cheer, "Are you still of that
opinion, now that you've seen my planes for the campus?"
    "Nice new entertainment complex you're building on the Western
Habitat," the Bandit said mildly. "And the new Biophysics building on the
North Campus is an exciting development, as is the remodeling of the Astronomy
building and the new landscaping." His eyes narrowed. "But I have one
question: with all this money you're sinking into pretty new architecture,
what happened to the College's guarantee of financial support to all
students regardless of need?"
    The Chancellor's smile froze on his face. "Good question," he said
politely. "Can we make an appointment to chat while you're in town?"
    "I'll call your secretary," the Bandit said with a nod.
    "I'm looking forward to it," the Chancellor said, shaking the Bandit's
hand. "Wonderful work, all of you. Good day." He strode off, looking at his
watch.
    The Sloth looked at the Bandit. "Did you really say that?"
    "Yep." The Bandit grinned at him. "Having one's diploma gives one,
shall we say, a certain sense of freedom."
    They spent the next few minutes shaking hands down the line of people,
the Bandit getting an enthusiastic hug and kiss from Mary Magdalene toward the
end. He noted her repetition of the hug and kiss with Zero, and her pointed
avoidance of the Sloth, as he chatted with Twink. In-teresting, he thought.
    "Hey, Bandit!" The Bandit looked up as Starch came striding up to him,
hand held out. "Nice to see you!"
    The Bandit didn't take the hand. "I saw you in the audience, Starch."
    "Yeah, well," Starch shrugged, withdrawing his ignored hand, "I wanted
to see the repeat performance of your masterwork, since I was too busy getting
set up for the big Commencement concert our band was playing last May. It sure
was lucky you turned up, though; it came off ragged enough with THREE people
up there." He chuckled. "I'd hate to have seen what would've happened with
just two."
    The Bandit's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I'll bet you would," he gritted.
You stinking pusbucket, you haven't changed a bit.
    "Are you going to go give some much-needed support to the gang these
two are fronting at the Clean Room tonight?"
    "No," the Bandit said evenly, "I'm not a student here any more. They
don't need my help, if they're not playing my music." Behind him, the Sloth
seemed to relax slightly.
    "Heh! YOU haven't HEARD them," Starch sneered. "I didn't think things
could sink any lower after you got done with your audiences, Bandit, but THEY
take the PRIZE!" He grinned. "Pitiful."
    "Pitiful is right," the Bandit said coldly. "You overbearing,
snobbish, utterly contemptible shitpile! Why don't you do us all a favor and
go die in a hole somewhere?"
    "Hey, back off, Bandit!" Starch took a menacing step forward. "I'M not
then one who stole away somebody else's GIRLFRIEND as a JOKE!"
    The Bandit didn't even blink. "Hey, Starch," he said softly.
    "Hey, what?"
    "I'm not enrolled here any more."
    The Bandit's fist lashed out in a straight line from his hip to
Starch's left eye, impacting with a meaty thunk. Starch staggered backwards,
clutching at his face with a choked gasp.
    "Don't try hitting back," the Bandit said pleasantly. "Any student who
commits assault will be expelled from the College, remember? Save it for after
you graduate. Then I can beat the shit out of you with a clear conscience."
    He turned on his heel and walked away. After a moment, the others
followed him, leaving Starch to sink down on a bench, alone.

    The Clean Room was hopping, the Bandit noted as he made his way across
the dance floor with his pitcher of beer. Twink and Mary Magdalene were
waiting for him at a table near the stage, whispering to each other and
giggling softly. They smiled up at him as he set down the pitcher and the
three glasses. He was watching for telltale signs of fantasies coming true: a
surreptitious hand on a thigh, perhaps. But there was none. No luck, he sighed
to himself as he sat down and poured drinks for the ladies.
    "When does the band go on?" He had to shout to be heard over the music
from the DJ booth.
    "In a few minutes," Mary Magdalene replied. "Thanks for escorting the
two of us, Bandit." She smiled at Twink, who smiled back at her.
    "No problem," the Bandit said mildly, ignoring the sudden nervous
twitch in his leg. "Just like old times, I guess."
    "Not really," Twink laughed. "You never would've had both of us at one
time before this." Her offhand comment made Mary Magdalene gasp, then begin to
laugh quietly into her clenched fist.
    Twink looked at her curiously. "What'd I say this time?"
    "Never mind," the Bandit said. "It's not important." He waved to
another table suddenly. "Hey, Conan!"
    The big man came over to their table, holding a glass of beer. "How
are you all doing tonight?" he asked.
    "Not bad," the Bandit grinned. The two ladies suddenly slid their
chairs around the table to either side of him and began to run their fingers
through his hair and nibble his ears. His eyebrows raised, but Conan just
grinned.
    "Same old Bandit," he laughed.
    "Yeah, right," the Bandit said uncomfortably; under the table, hands
were wandering far afield. "Very funny, ladies. Hey, where's Cricket?"
    Conan's beer glass cracked in his suddenly clenched fist. He looked
down at it angrily, slammed it down on the table, and stalked off.
    "Bad question," one voice breathed.
    "They broke up last month," the other one continued.
    "Oh. My goof. Say, this is the weirdest pair of headphones I've ever
used," the Bandit said with a quirky smile. "Do you ladies mind?"
    "Mmmmm, not at all," said one voice, nibbling an earlobe.
    "Me neither," said the other, followed by a wet tongue in his ear.
    This is getting serious far too quickly, the Bandit thought, feeling a
pair of hands working slowly up the insides of his thighs. If there isn't a
distraction soon, I'm going to be in real trouble....
    "What's the matter, baby?" One voice giggled.
    "You seem kind of hot and bothered," the other laughed.
    "Well," the Bandit stammered as one hand found the base of his bulge,
"It is k-kind of hot in here, and you ladies are REALLY bothering me--"
    "Humph!" One earlobe was nipped sharply, making him yelp.
    "Oh, pooh," said the other whisper, receding.
    "M-maybe later," the Bandit gasped in relief as they pulled away.
Suddenly he stood up and began to clap and yell loudly. "ALL RIGHT!"
    Twink and Mary Magdalene joined him, cheering, as the band came on to
the stage and bowed. There was Zero, and the Sloth, and the new rhythm
guitarist, and the new bassist and drummer...and Diva! She was smiling
radiantly in a tight T-shirt knotted high under her breasts, and she gave the
Bandit a special wave and wink as she stepped behind her electric piano.
    "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome...THE ZERO SLOTH PROJECT!"
    The crowd cut loose with a roar as the band kicked into gear, a
high-energy dance tune that soon had the dance floor overflowing. Mary
Magdalene yelled, "I've got the first dance with him, Twink! Your turn next!"
And with that, she dragged the Bandit out of his seat and onto the dance
floor.
    The next half hour was a blur of lights, music and heaving bosoms for
the Bandit. Neither Twink, Mary Magdalene, nor Diva was wearing a bra, and all
three of them seemed to be making an effort to shake things at him. By the end
of the first set, he'd danced three times each with Twink and Mary Magdalene,
including a slow dance or two with his arms around a familiar pair of waists.
He was exhausted and sweating as the band took its break between sets.
    "Having fun?" Mary Magdalene leaned over to the Bandit as he shakily
downed the last of his beer.
    "I'm pooped," he groaned, pouring another beer for himself.
    "You'd better not be," Twink said with a laugh. "You've got a long
night ahead of you." Mary Magdalene smiled wickedly at that.
    The Bandit looked blearily from one to the other of them, and
somewhere inside of him a huge, swollen balloon stuffed chock-full of utterly
fulfilled sex fantasies began to rise to the surface. It'll be ME tonight, he
suddenly realized. ME with the two of them. ME with--
    No.
    There it was again. The cold voice, the voice that saw it all, the
voice that saw the future. the balloon burst into wet pieces and was gone.
    The Bandit put down his beer. "I don't think so," he said coolly.
    Both smiles evaporated. "What do you mean?" Mary Magdalene asked.
    "When I told you this morning," Twink said, "You seemed--"
    "I seemed what?" Somewhere, anger began. "Hurt? Left out? Jealous?
Yes! All three. But just because the Human Oil Derrick managed to swing it,
doesn't mean I want it too as a consolation prize!"
    "CONSOLATION PRIZE?" Mary Magdalene's eyes went wide. "YOU-- YOU--"
She gesticulated wildly, at a loss for words.
    "Yes," the Bandit said softly. "Me. Me. The Bandit. The man who threw
over the woman who gave him the best love he'd ever failed to earn, for you.
The man who fucked you silly for three months straight and then got tossed out
on his ear. The man whom you wrote a letter to that said you would never, ever
have a sexual relationship with him again." His voice never wavered. "I don't
care what ecstasies I'm giving up, MaryMag. I'm holding you to that promise.
You and I are quits, for good, and there is nothing that can restore what we
had. And Twink, I'm really kind of upset at you for not thinking things
through more carefully. Sure, it would've been a nice gesture. Hell, it
would've been more than nice! But the three of us have all hurt each other so
badly in the past...could one night of passion heal all of that?"
    He shook his head wearily. "Let it go. Zero had his fun, and you did,
too. I don't belong here any more, maybe I shouldn't have come...."
    "No, don't say that!" Twink took one of his hands, her eyes pleading.
    "You're right, Bandit." Mary Magdalene took his other hand gently. "It
wasn't a very well considered idea. It would've been nice at first, but...."
She sighed. "I guess I got carried away. It was so exciting the first time!"
Her eyes glazed over at the memory. The Bandit rolled his eyes to the heavens.
Another member of the Jimi Fan Club, he sighed.
    "Yeah, I can imagine," he said ruefully. "Listen, if you two want to
stay together tonight, I can make other plans...."
    Mary Magdalene looked at Twink worriedly. Twink said firmly, "No you
won't, Bandit. You're staying with me tonight. And if it takes both MaryMag
and me tying you to the bed, you are not getting NEAR Diva!"
    "Diva?" He blinked. Was I that obvious? Was she?
    "Yes, Diva," Mary Magdalene said sternly. "Ever since Zero left her,
she's been a total wildcat. She's fucked anything that moved on the whole
campus at least once!"
    "Oh, come on," the Bandit said uncertainly. "You must be exaggerating
a little bit, right?"
    "She slept with Conan the night she and Zero broke up," Twink said.
    "And with Lanky the next day, and Plaids the day after that, and we
THINK she even gave Thud a swing at hetero," Mary Magdalene added.
    "That friend of yours on the Rugby team--"
    "She did a trio thing with the Wiz and Flower--"
    "And supposedly she was more into Flower than the Wiz--"
    "Bone, and Starch, and Cricket isn't saying but she sure SMILES--"
    "And don't forget the Sloth."
    "I'm trying to forget the Sloth," Mary Magdalene gritted dangerously.
The Bandit raised an eyebrow at her; she turned away from him.
    "She's been hanging out in the gym, picking up guys," Twink said. "And
that's not the worst of it. D'you remember Mimosa?"
    "Yeah, sure. Nice quiet kid," the Bandit said. "Diva got HER?"
    "Worse!" Mary Magdalene had turned around again, her ire against Diva
overcoming whatever she'd felt about the Sloth. "Mimosa has a brother, a kid
from junior high school, barely into his teens. He came up here to visit his
sister for a weekend, and Diva talked him into her room."
    "Holy shit," the Bandit breathed.
    "He sure left the campus smiling," Twink sighed.
    "Did Mimosa ever find out?"
    "Yes, and she raised hell, too," Mary Magdalene sighed. "But Diva
calmed her down and asked her to come up to her room so they could talk it
over quietly, and, well, now Mimosa doesn't complain too loudly."
    "Jesus. Busy girl!"
    "You bet," Twink said. "so you're staying with me tonight. Right?"
    "Right," the Bandit agreed. He gave both of the hands holding his a
squeeze, and both ladies smiled back at him. "And...thanks for the offer."
    "Forget it," Mary Magdalene smiled.
    "I plan to," he replied with a wink. Both Mary Magdalene and Twink
laughed at that, and the conversation settled onto a less dangerous tack until
the band came out again for the second set.
    A few songs into the set, Zero took the microphone and said, "I'd like
to invite an old mate of mine up here to sing lead on our next couple of
songs. Please welcome, back from the grave...THE BANDIT!"
    The Bandit, who'd just finished a dance with Twink, looked at him in
horror. Twink pushed him bodily over to the stage and Zero handed him the mic.
    "Are you insane?" The Bandit hissed. "I'm EXHAUSTED!"
    "Why?" Zero smiled. "They're not an exhausting pair."
    "So I've heard," the Bandit snapped. "Did you at least give Twink a
good time?"
    "She asked me what planet I was from," Zero shrugged. He turned to the
band, and yelled, "ONE TWO THREE FOUR--"
    The musicians kicked into a screaming run of choppy chords, and the
Bandit had approximately two seconds to recognize the song, smile widely,
recall the lyrics, and leap into the audience, straight at Twink.

    "You burn me up, I'm a cigarette--
    You hold my hand and I begin to sweat
    You make me nervous
    Oh, ooh, I'm nervous!
    This must be real bad karma for this to be my dharma
    with You - woo - wooo...."

    The crowd cheered as he skanked across the dance floor, mic cable
tripping people behind him, and sprawled into Mary Magdalene's lap.

    "You burn me up, I'm a cigarette--
    Life with you is a losing bet
    You drive me crazy
    Oh, ooh, I'm going crazy!
    Your therapeutic antics, well, they only make me frantic
    with You - woo - wooo...."

    He ran back to the stage and began dancing in front of the Sloth.

    "Strategic interaction irreducible fraction
    Terminal inaction from a bitter hostile faction
    I'm getting anxious
    I'm Franctious
    Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases
    We -- HEE HEE!"

    One quick spin and he was sprawled out across the top of Diva's piano,
lolling back in a parody of a torch singer's slouch.

    "You burn me up, I'm a cigarette--
    Demanding my attention which you're not gonna get
    I'll leave you cut down
    Tonight is SHUT down!
    Musical elation is my only consolation
    From You - woo - WHOA!"

    Diva had grown angrier and angrier as she listened to him mangle the
last verse into a message especially for her, one she didn't like at all. With
and angry shove, she heaved the Bandit off the piano and onto the floor in a
heap, where he lay while finishing the song. The crowd, thinking it was all
part of the act, howled with laughter as the song ended, and cried for more.
    The Bandit got up and bowed, then leaned back to Diva.
    "You and me, never," he whispered.
    "Your loss, needledick," she replied, smiling sweetly.
    The Bandit bowed again, smiling, and screamed, "ONE MORE!"

    The Clean Room was shut down, and the band was stowing its gear. Twink
and Mary Magdalene had adjourned to the ladies' room, and the Bandit was in
the Burger Bar having one last beer before closing. He finished his burger
with a gulp, and wiped his mouth happily. I'd forgotten how good a
fresh-grilled burger with double mayo can be, he sighed. Now, all I--
    "Bandit?"
    The Bandit whirled around. After a moment, he smiled carefully.
    "Hi, Teenie."
    "Can I sit down?" Her voice was timid, almost fearful.
    "Sure." He motioned to the chair across the small table from him.
"It's nice to see you again. How have you been?"
    "Okay," Teenie said with a little smile. "I went to the Far East on a
concert tour this summer."
    "Marvelous! I hope you had a good time." He watched her carefully.
    "It was. We visited--"
    "Why'd you leave me?"
    The question stopped her like a blow to the face. She looked at him in
real fear, biting her lip.
    He leaned forward, his voice a whisper. "I have a right to know. You
walked out of my life two years ago with no explanation. I let you go because
I loved you too much to keep you. But now whatever I'd felt was gone, and I'm
just curious. Why?"
    Teenie took a deep breath. "Because," she said, "You didn't ever
really love me at all."
    "I didn't?" The Bandit's eyes widened. "That's news to me...."
    "Oh, give it up, Bandit!" Teenie actually put a little anger into her
voice. "You can lie to me, but you can't lie to yourself!"
    "I'm not lying." His voice was firm. "If I didn't love you, why did I
ask you out?"
    "Because you wanted someone to have sex with," Teenie said flatly.
    "What?" The Bandit drew his hands across his brow. "Teenie, are you
crazy? Do you really believe that?"
    "Why shouldn't I?" Teenie glared at him challengingly.
    "Because there's a helluva lot of evidence to the contrary. If all I'd
wanted was a sex object, why not Twink, huh? She was on my case from day one.
I could've had her in bed in no time flat! Why waste time chasing you? Tell
me!"
    Teenie looked uncomfortable. "M-Maybe you didn't think she was very
pretty," she said softly.
    The Bandit let out his breath in a disparaging huff. "Compared to you?
Get out of here! She's built like a brick shithouse! I was interested in you
because you were musically inclined, and sensitive, and funny, and caring, and
a wonderful person over all! If you didn't want a sexual relationship with me,
all you had to do is say so! This is the 1980s, Teenie. If a woman says 'Yes',
unless there's good evidence to the contrary, she means 'Yes'! You said 'No'
for a long time and I left you alone until you changed your mind of your own
accord. I didn't threaten you, I didn't play mind games with you. The
relationship went at its own speed, and I hate to tell you this, kid, but it
was YOU at the controls, not me!"
    "That's not TRUE!" Teenie cried. "You WANTED me, I KNEW that!"
    "Yes, I did," he said quietly. "But that put no obligation on you.
Twink, for all the fun people made of her, was smart enough to lay down the
ground rules before we did anything at all. I will not accept full
responsibility for the fact that you expected me to read your mind!" He looked
at her grimly. "Are you telling me that every time we made love, you were
coerced into it? I was raping you and you hated it? Are you telling me that?"
    "No, of course not!" Teenie shook her head. Slowly, as if doing
something very difficult, she reached out and took his hand. He clutched it
tightly, and smiled at her. It was the first time they'd touched in years.
     She looked into his eyes as she spoke. "It was so hard to go to
confessional after we made love, Bandit. It, it felt miraculous, like God had
meant Man and Woman to feel together! I felt like I wasn't committing a sin!"
She shook her head. "But after a few months, I started wondering if there was
anything else to our relationship besides sex...."
    "Are you kidding?" The Bandit slapped his forehead. "You helped me
record some of my first electronic pieces! You sang backup for the band a
couple of times! We shared books, we went to concerts together, we stayed up
talking to all hours-- what was all of that, chopped liver?"
    "NO!" Teenie shook her head violently. "It wasn't, it wasn't! But I
thought-- I thought you only did it to keep me around!"
    "Why the hell would you think that?" the Bandit wondered aloud. "Who
the hell could put a crazy idea like that in your head, make both of us suffer
the way we did? Did you really come up with this theory on your own?"
    Teenie looked down at the table for a long moment, her brow furrowed.
"Of course I did," she said uncertainly. "I worked it out my, myself...."
She looked up at him in sudden shock. "Once the suggestion was there!"
    "Who made this-- suggestion?" The Bandit already knew the answer, but
he had to hear it from Teenie's lips.
    "The Rainbow Wizard," she whispered, a tear forming in her eye.
    "Thought so." The Bandit sighed loudly. "Well, what's done is done,"
he said, getting up from the table. "We both learned a lot from the whole
affair, I guess. I hear you've got a new boyfriend."
    She looked up at him, smiling shakily. "Yes. He's very sweet."
    "I'm happy for you," the Bandit said, meaning it with all of his
battered, scabby heart. "Take care, Teenie." He turned to leave.
    "Bandit?"
    He turned back to face her. "Uh-huh?"
    "I'm not sorry things went the way they did," she said quietly. "But I
am sorry you went this long without knowing the truth."
    He smiled briefly. "So am I." The bar doors swung behind him.

    The morning sun was bright over the roof of the East Habitat as the
Bandit tossed his luggage into the back seat of his car. Twink and Mary
Magdalene were there to see him off; the others had said goodbye at breakfast,
and had headed off for their Monday classes.
    "Well, this is it," the Bandit sighed. He gave Mary Magdalene a quick,
hard hug, then held her at arms' length and shook her sharply. "Keep your
promise to me," he said sternly. "And to yourself. You can't grow in Arcadia.
Get the hell out. Soon! Okay?"
    Mary Magdalene nodded. "I'll try, Bandit. Sometime this year. Really."
The Bandit looked skeptically at her, then suddenly gasped as he remembered
something. "Here," he said, "I almost forgot." He dug into his pocket and
pulled out something small and shiny on a ratty old thread. It jingled gently
as he placed it in Mary Magdalene's hands, and she accepted it silently, tears
welling up in her eyes.
    "Thanks," she said softly. "You were right; I did want it back."
    "No problem," the Bandit smiled, though now he was looking at Twink.
He gazed into her tear-filled eyes for a long moment, then pulled her into his
arms and hugged her long and hard.
    "Be good, kid," he whispered into her ear.
    "I will if you will," she whispered back.
    He let her go with a last, gentle kiss, and got into the car. He
rolled down the window and said, "Take care, both of you." Then the window
went back up and the car, crunching over the fresh snow, spun out and headed
for the main highway.
    Glancing into the rear-view mirror, the Bandit saw Twink bury her face
in her hands, saw Mary Magdalene gently take her in her arms and hold her.
Then he turned his attention back to the road, and a single tear ran down his
cheek as he turned the corner and the East Habitat was lost to sight.
    Damn sun in my eyes, he thought, wiping a hand across his face. He
floored the accelerator as he hit the On-ramp, and the car was gone in a blur,
leaving Arcadia for the long trip home.