Strange Bedfellows

STRANGE BEDFELLOWS Chapter 21

DISCLAIMER: The following is a mostly fictional account of the author's relationships and experiences while a college student. It contains sometimes graphic accounts of sex between consenting men and women and consenting men and other men. If such content offends you, or if it is illegal for you to possess or read such material, then please move on to something more appropriate. This story is copyrighted, 2007, and may not be reposted, reprinted or published without the expressed written consent of the author.

FROM CHAPTER 20:

Marty found the wall switch for the ceiling light. The dim bulb on the ceiling provided enough illumination to see the front door to the refrigerator. He pulled out the two bottles of good champagne that Shelly had stocked for them, and set them on the work bench next to the wall, and grabbed Scott's right elbow, and then his left. Scott's right hand rested on his hip, the left on his ribs as Marty leaned in. Their crotches, already at attention with half-hard cocks met in a happy greeting.

Scott sighed and Marty winked.

Kelly walked down the back stairs. "Hang on, Shelly! I can get your favorite son on the phone for you in just a second. Can you keep your hands to yourself for that long?"

Shelly shouted. "For my boy and you kids? Anything." The stripper was nearly straddling her knee now. "But hurry!"

Kelly found the doorknob in the darkened stairway. "Hold on. I'll get him."

The dim light made Marty's gaze all the more smoldering. "Well, professor, I figure in about ten minutes or so you're gonna have your hands and mouth full of Ms. Abbott, and I'm gonna be otherwise preoccupied. But, my friend, I just want to wish you a proper "Happy New Year." By now, Scott had one hand on Marty's lower back and the other at the top of his ass. Marty's smiling face moved in on his and their lips met. Soft and slow for a moment, barely touching. Each one whispered, "Happy New Year," before their mouths merged and their tongues slowly began to writhe.

They hadn't heard the door close, or the footsteps crossing the tiled patio. But they did hear the gasp, just a fraction of a second before the phone hit the floor and both heads turned. The streetlight coming through the front door's window lit Kelly's shocked, confused face.

"Marty?!"

The two men parted.

"Scott!?"

CHAPTER 21

Marty didn't miss a beat. "Well, sweet Kelly, I just shocked the hell out of your boyfriend with his New Year's kiss, but I was saving the best for you! Actually, I'm saving the very best for Jill, but you're next in line for what's good!! Everybody gets a kiss on the New Year, and you're just in time!" He strode five quick, broad steps, swept her up in his arms, and planted his lips on hers. Before she could even take a breath, Kelly was nearly facing the ceiling, lips locked with the irrepressible Marty Anderson. He dipped her backward far enough that she had no choice but to grasp his back or she'd fall on her ass, so she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Scott stared into space, stunned. His lungs gasping. His knees quivering. His heart pounding. His brow sweating. His cock shriveling.

A thin voice with the tinny background sound of something resembling thumping music whined from the garage floor. "Marty?!"

Scott picked up the phone. "Is that you Shelly?"

"Hell yeah, it's me! Is that you, Scott?"

His buddy had just broken off the kiss. Marty nodded confidently and winked at Kelly, and then reached out his hand to take the phone.

Scott regained much of his composure, and talked to Marty's mom as though nothing had happened. "Well, your son just got done kissing my girl a Happy New Year, right after he kissed me, for that matter." He laughed. "Yeah! Well, it's just Marty being Marty, ya' know. I'm guessing Jill's next." He chuckled at something he didn't quite hear or understand. "Here, I'll let you talk to him."

Scott passed off the phone and did his best to mimic Marty's nonchalant bearing. He looked at a still stunned Kelly, shrugged and shook his head. "That goofy shit!"

"Hey, Mommy! Happy New Year, you sweet thang! Havin' a good time in the windy city?" He stepped out the side door of the garage, leaving Scott and Kelly behind, and plugged his index finger into his ear. "I can hardly hear you, or make out what you're saying. Hang on! I'm going to walk back into the house. It's cold out here!"

"What the hell was that?" Kelly didn't look angry, shocked, offended...she didn't look anything for that matter. She just stared, blankly.

Scott laughed and picked up the two bottles of champagne. "Kelly! It was two drunk, buzzed best friends, on New Year's Eve, who started horsing around, then sort of daring each other, and who wound up in a playful kiss. I'm sure it knocked your socks off, and I'm sorry if it did, but that's what you just saw. Me and Marty bein' me and Marty. First time ever, and probably the last we're gonna do that."

Kelly exhaled a sigh as Scott wrapped an arm around her waist. "Besides, I'm not sure about the one he gave you, but I didn't think he was all that good. I not gonna give him any pointers or anything, but he needs to work on his approach a bit.

Kelly paused. "I know playful kisses, and that wasn't playful. When I got to the doorway, it was well underway, and didn't stop `til you heard the phone hit the floor."

"Kelly. A lot of guys kiss each other on the lips."

"Family members, sometimes, or Italian mobsters who are announcing that they're having the guy they're kissing killed. You got a contract out on Marty?"

He pulled her closer. "Kelly, lighten up! Let's go in and ring in the New Year with me and you showing him how to do it right." He hooked a finger on the back door's latch and pulled, and then kicked the door back with his foot. Kelly pushed the inside door opened and Scott followed her in.

Marty pointed to a cupboard as he continued to shout at his mom over the phone. Scott found four champagne classes and set them on the counter.

"Here, can you hear us?" Marty held out the phone just as the cork popped and flew off the bottle. "That's a toast to you, ma'! Scotty just popped the cork, and we're gonna have a glass of bubbly, one more dance, and then ring out the old and ring in the new! Now, don't you go doin' anything I wouldn't do, and get back safe. We'll see you tomorrow, and you know I love you!" He just nodded at her response, and then folded the phone before putting it down.

Scott poured four glasses, and Kelly picked up two of them and went into the living room to join Jill. Marty picked up one, with a questioning glance at Scotty, who just shrugged. The girls were sipping and chatting when the guys joined them. Kelly hadn't said a word about the kiss, although the tension in her bearing was more than Jill could ignore.

Marty joined Jill on the couch and laid his hand on the back of it, twirling a lock of Jill's hair between his fingers. "Sounds like Mom's having a good time. She sounds like a damned teenager, or a kid in a candy shop!"

Jill giggled. "Good for her. She's earned it." She tilted her head into his gentle strokes of her hair.

Scott sat on the arm of the recliner, just above Kelly. He put a hand on the back of her neck and gently stroked. She looked up at him with the hint of a question in her eyes. Sinatra's voice crooned softly in the background and he leaned down and softly kissed her forehead, then took her hand in his. "Come on, let's dance in the New Year."

She stood and wrapped an arm around his waist and put a hand on his neck. He softly laid his own hand on top of hers, and wrapped their fingers together. Slowly, they swayed.

"One minute!" Marty announced, and Scott kissed her neck. As Jill and Marty started counting down from ten, his lips met hers at about five. The counting stopped at "two" as Jill and Marty's faces became one. They never stopped dancing, but held the kiss for most of a full minute.

When they finally parted, Marty gushed. "Jeez!! I was afraid you were never coming up for air, Scotty! Happy New Year kids!" Jill's head was lying on his shoulder as he leaned back on the couch.

Kelly turned and giggled, her head resting on Scott's shoulder. "And you too, you nut."

More dancing and laughing and teasing went on for another hour. At about one o'clock, after one bottle was finished, and the other half done, Jill got up. "Gotta go, boys and girls." She went to the closet to retrieve her coat. Marty followed her and held it for her, wrapping his arms around her after she'd slid into the sleeves. "So, we're going to see you all at my place tomorrow? I make a mean chili, and Ash' is going to expect a crowd to entertain."

Marty kissed her below the ear from behind. "Yup. And I think Craig and Steph are going to join us. Anybody else coming over?"

"Well, I invited my folks, and Jeremy's too, but I doubt they'll come by. They're all such homebodies, and I can't imagine them going out on New Year's Day Mom likes to watch the stupid parade from the Rose Bowl, and then Dad hunkers down on the couch for the game, but who knows? They could drop in, so you should plan on being good. Better than you were tonight, at least. No ass grabbing, and no joint smoking."

"At your daughter's house? Never!" He turned her around and kissed her nose as Scott and Kelly stood up.

They all exchanged hugs goodnight and Happy New Year, and Marty asked again whether she should drive. Jill had stopped drinking after the first glass of champagne, and had only had another glass of Shiraz during dinner, plus the one cocktail before they popped the cork, so she knew she was good to go. "Well, take care out there. I know it's not far, but the dumb-asses are out on the roads tonight, so look sharp. Call me when you and the little angel get home safe, will you?"

Jill kissed his chin. "I'm gonna leave her at Jeremy's folks' place tonight, and then go get her in the morning."

"Okay. Call me anyway when you get home. Call my cell." He kissed her once more.

"Will do."

Jill exited, and Marty picked up the bottle and examined its remaining contents. "Well, kids, let's knock this off, and then call it a night." He poured another round of half-chilled bubbly wine. "We have another new day and new year in front of us in just a few hours." He raised his glass, and extended his arm toward the two of them. "To Us!" They both raised their own glasses, and they all clinked.

"To us."

After some more chatter, Scott got up and excused himself to use the bathroom. Kelly put down her half-empty glass and yawned as he was exiting. "Well, boys, I'm gonna call it a night in a minute, so don't be gone long. It's time for me to say goodnight."

"Be back in a second."

The bathroom door closed and Marty looked at Kelly. "You know that was just stupid dare you' kinda shit out in the garage, right? Two good buds playing a game of chicken, more or less. That's what it was, Kel'. Me and my best friend saying Happy New Year.' But, don't freak about it, huh?"

Kelly stood up. "Don't worry about it. It was a shocker, no shit, but if two guys ought to be kissing each other, I guess it's you two." She wasn't very convincing.

"Go to my room, Kel'. I'm gonna take Mom's bed tonight. You and Scotty should spend the rest of the night, and the morning, together." She looked surprised. "Really, Kel'. Meet him back in the other bedroom. It's the way it ought to be on New Year's Eve."

Fifteen minutes later, Scott came into the dark bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt, and slid between the sheets. Kelly was already pretending to be asleep.

After a lazy and quiet morning, and a trip to the grocery story for game day supplies, the three drove together in Marty's Jeep over to Jill's house. Craig and Stephanie arrived a little before kickoff, bearing more food and drink, and each one oozing an air of freshly fucked contentment. Ashley slid back into the shy routine with the arrival of two new strangers, but quickly recovered with Marty's assurance that these were two really nice people, too.

A couple minutes before half time, Craig nudged Kelly who was nestled against Scott on the floor, sipping on a weak rum and coke. "Pretty quiet today, Kelly. Too much partying last night?"

"No, not at all. We had a really nice night. A great meal, some dancing and bubbly back at Marty's and didn't stay up too late. But I am pretty tired. Too much holiday stuff the last couple weeks, I guess, and now that we're in the New Year, I'm mulling over everything I want to get done before we start the new semester." She wasn't very convincing, not to Scott, anyway.

Ashley was on Marty's lap, dozing. Early in the game, she'd busied herself with a bowl of chili, picking around those "icky" beans and putting them in her mother's bowl, and then filling the nutritional void with a dozen or so crackers. Then, she wandered over to the couch and crawled up onto his legs to get comfortable.

A few minutes later, the network came back from commercial during the half time show. The Badgers were ahead of UCLA, 18 to 9. The camera on the ground was covering the UW Marching Band's show. The sound was lousy, and the announcers were talking over them anyway. All of a sudden, Marty shot forward, scaring the daylights out of the little girl who'd been snoozing on his lap.

"There he is! Check it out! That son of a...uhm...that rascal!"

In the front row of the trombone section, there was a high-stepping Brett, getting a close-up shot by the ground camera. He was wearing shades, but there was no mistaking it. It was Brett.

The guys, and Kelly all whooped, and Craig threw a balled up napkin at the screen. Jill and Stephanie just looked at each other and shrugged, but then Craig explained the connection.

When the camera shot changed, and they'd quieted down, Ashley looked up with a mischievous smile. "You were gonna say a naughty word!"

"Who, me? Naaaaah." He tickled her and she squirmed.

"Gramma always scolds Pa Pa when he says that, an' other stuff too, `cuz it's a naughty word."

"Ready for your banana split? It's half time, and I promised a treat at half time, if you were a good girl. And, when Mawty makes a pwomise, you know what happens, wight?"

She slapped his chest. "Silly. Stop teasing me again." Her feet hit the floor and she gripped his arm. "C'mon, Mawty. I been good like I said, now c'mon and I'll show you where the ice cweam is."

She dragged him out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Shelly was home when they returned from Jill's after the game.

"Hey kids! So, your Badger's pulled it off, huh?"

"Yeah, Bucky Badger held the day. Pretty good game too!" Marty kissed her cheek. "So, you didn't get arrested in Chicago, huh?"

"I was a good girl, but what happens in Chicago stays in Chicago." She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows in Kelly's direction. "Hey, gang, it's early. Marty and me haven't had much time to play any Scrabble since he's been home. Who's up for a game?"

For the next couple hours, they played two games, Kelly winning the first, and Marty the second. How the hell he knew that a "zloty" was a former unit of Polish currency was anybody's guess, and he played it on a triple word score on the last move of the game, then did a little victory dance. Kelly survived the laughter, and then stood and yawned. "Well, gang, I'm going to hit the sack. We need to leave no later than ten tomorrow, Scott, so don't be staying up too late." She reached over and ruffled his hair. He grabbed her hand, and kissed it. "G'night, Kel."

Marty gave her a quick hug, and Shelly offered that the girls were going to make breakfast tomorrow. Kelly said that she was game. "If I'm not up when it's time to get to work, just bang on the door."

Scott was already in the sack when Marty finished in the bathroom and slid in beside him. He turned on his side to face Scott and curled an arm under his own pillow. "Well?"

"Don't know."

A few miles out of Rockford, Scott reached over and took Kelly's hand. "It's still bugging you, isn't it?"

"The kiss?"

"What else from this trip would still be bugging you? It was a wonderful time all the way around, and still, you've been so quiet and kind of distant for the past thirty hours or so. Do we need to talk about it some more?"

Kelly turned in her seat and looked at his profile. "It's just that...it was a shock. I know what you said, and Marty said pretty much the same thing, but I'm still trying to get used to the vision of the two of you...like that."

"What more can I say, Kelly? There's this unspoken gulf between us all of a sudden, and I'd like to cross it, if I can."

She sighed and her head hit the headrest. "Just give me some time, Scotty. I don't doubt what you guys said, that it was playful screwing around by a couple of inebriated best friends during a special occasion. You know, if I hadn't come out there, and you'd have come back in and then told me that Marty gave you a big wet kiss straight on the lips, I'd have laughed again and thought, `Well, that's our Marty.'" She sighed again. "But I saw it!" She turned and looked directly at him. "And, like I said, that just didn't look like goofy playfulness to me."

Both of Scott's hands momentarily left the wheel, pleading. "Why is it that when guys see two girls going at it, they pop a boner and want to see more? Well, most of them do, anyway." Kelly knew that was true, and she couldn't suppress a small giggle. He paused to let it sink in. Then, "Ever kiss a sorority sister, Kel? I don't mean a sisterly `have a good summer' kiss on the cheek. I mean a full on, lip locking, tongue munching, spit swapping mouthful of a kiss."

Kelly's suddenly shy expression and posture admitted the truth.

"Aha! You have! Let me guess. Greek party. The keg's tapped and the shots are flowing. Drinking games, dirty dancing, hooting and hollering all over the place. Probably `I Dare You' games being played and you have to follow the lead of the other girls who have locked lips for the entertainment of the other partygoers, especially for the benefit for the rowdy, drunken hot guys who are begging for it. Something like that, right?"

She giggled and rolled her eyes. "Christ! It's like you were there."

"Okay then! That's what you saw. Minus the crowd, the frat rats and the Jello shots. And this was Marty! Loveable, irrepressible, impulsive and irresponsible Marty Anderson, my best friend. I don't know who you mixed it up with, or how many times, and I don't need to." He leered at her and sniffed a short giggle. "But, I wouldn't mind seeing it. So, give me a heads-up next time it's gonna happen." She smacked his arm. "But seriously, we just didn't know there'd be an audience. And, if it shocked you, then I'm sorry, but I hope you can get past it."

A minute's silence followed.

"You're sorry that I was shocked. Are you sorry it happened?"

"No."

Kip opened his e-mail.

"Kip,

"Any chance you can be in Madison on the 9th? I want to ride your pole again. I want you to fuck me in the worst, and the best, possible ways. I want to feel your cum spray across my chest, my face, my chin. I want to taste it hitting my tongue. I'll be in town on the ninth for the press conference with the governor. I plan to stay overnight, and want to have you bend me over and make this ass your own."

This one included a picture of his torso; legs spread wide, glistening cock gripped in a tight fist. The pic included no face, but Kip would know that tool anywhere, and the mole inside of his thigh advertised Andy's identity. Kip wondered who had taken the picture, as he gripped his own cock through his sweatpants and massaged it.

He closed the message and popped the disk into the drive. He opened the images Marty had taken of him with Brandon in the dorm basement. He had to be at his old high school in a half hour for a game of basketball with some of his old buddies, but it was only a ten-minute drive. There was time to rub one off first.

Kelly slapped what looked like an old-fashioned elementary school flashcard onto his dashboard, except that it was bright, hunter' orange. She'd confidently directed him to drive up one of the four main driveways at the capitol, and to pull into a space about fifty feet from one of the many front' doors of the building. Nobody parked there, except security. This was nuts, or so Scott thought.

"Relax. Mo' sent me a parking permit for the day. You're not gonna get towed or anything. I got the majority leader's permission with this thing. She loves me. She loves you, too."

Scott was glad they were going to the Senate. The "lower house," The Assembly, had 99 members, and they all were elected every two years. Their goings-on were going to be a zoo.

The `house of quality' (not quantity, the Senators would tell one), had only 33 members, each with four-year terms, and only half the seats were up for grabs on each election day. That meant that only 16 members would be sworn into the upper house today, and the swearing-in would be done en-masse. So, after the state's Chief Justice raised her hand and gave them the oath, they'd all sign in, take their seats and then take a few votes. A couple of resolutions would be acted on to commemorate this and that, a former colleague who'd recently passed away would be remembered with the appropriate reverence, and then they'd party for a time. All in all, not a bad day in Wisconsin politics.

Still, he couldn't believe that he was in that parking space.

Scott was even more impressed when they'd worked their way through the crowd and up to the third-floor gallery. It overlooked the Senate chamber, and their names were both taped to two front-row seats. "Cool!"

According to tradition, the governor did not intrude on either legislative chamber without invitation, and that was only when he or she gave the State of the State' address or his budget message over in the Assembly. The Hon. Theodore Hackett' was taped next to Kelly's seat in the gallery for this event.

This was all Maureen's show.

One by one, the members wandered in, shook hands, exchanged polite kisses and warm embraces. Finally, the man who was about to be deposed as President of the Senate strode up the steps to the podium. His party had just lost the majority, but he still had to preside over their official demise. He didn't look like he was having any fun at all. In reality, the presidency of the State Senate was a ceremonial position at best, an office where they sent somebody they needed to put somewhere without any risk. A lot like the vice-presidency, with a relatively young, healthy president.

Scott rolled his eyes. "God! He is such a shit!" He whispered to Kelly. "Done nothing in here for almost thirty years now, and he looks like he's been officially offended by the good people of Wisconsin for electing some other party to the new majority. What a freaking dweeb."

Kelly giggled and leaned over. "Mo' says he's a major-league moron, and will be thoroughly and completely ignored until he has the sense to retire, which should be at the next election."

Suddenly, everybody around them stood, and many of them began to applaud. Scott scanned the floor below in near panic. What was he missing? Something had to be happening that he hadn't caught onto, but he stood with the crowd and began to clap, anyway. Kelly nudged him. "You know Governor Hackett, don't you Scott?"

Theodore Hackett grabbed Scott's arm and grasped his hand. "Young Mr. Turner! So good to see you again! Happy New Year!" Kelly took the opportunity of everyone standing during their greeting to nudge Scott toward the governor, and she slid into his original seat, allowing Scott to sit next to him during the session that was about to open.

Scott coughed. "And you too, governor! It's good to...I mean it's an honor...that is...I mean...and...well, how are you...Sir?" Kelly looked at her shoes and muffled a snicker as the governor covered for the youngster.

"I'm well, thank you Scott, and I'm happy that you have Kelly by your side to keep you so articulate. I'm sure that Senator McCarthy is happy to have you both on hand to celebrate with her today. It's a great day for the State of Wisconsin."

Scott laughed, and blushed bright red at the governor's playful jab at him.

The Chief Justice swore in the members and they all signed in. The sad-sack president of the body was promptly ousted on a party-line vote, replaced by the senior member of Maureen's party. As he assumed the podium and accepted the gavel during polite applause, he acted like a starry-eyed prom queen. What a dope.' Scott muttered beneath his applause. No power in that office. Maureen has him by the balls, I'm sure. Shit! I have more authority as WSA President than this guy does. He's just padding his pension with more paid meetings than the ordinary member for the next two, maybe six, years.'

The parties had each elected their various leaders behind closed doors, in party caucuses. The majority leader's job wasn't a constitutional office, after all, and so it didn't require public debate or public vote. In fact, in a bad year, it could be pretty ugly, but it was party stuff, not State Senate stuff. So, they got to hash it out before coming to the floor.

As soon as the new president banged the gavel to call the body to order, Senator Glynn recognized the Senator from the 29th. Maureen graciously thanked her colleagues, and then offered motions on the coming legislative calendar, and organization. She moved adoption of her committee appointments, complete with chairmanships that rewarded those most loyal, and condemned a couple others to perfunctory appointments. The renegade senator from Milwaukee who'd crossed swords with Maureen and other party leaders in the past pouted through most of the brief session, but dutifully voted along with his majority as they passed each measure. Maureen gave a short speech on good will and bipartisanship, commended the members for their dedication to the good people of Wisconsin and, finally, recognized and thanked the governor for joining them. Hackett humbly stood in the gallery and accepted their applause. She turned to smile at her political mentor, and smiled and waved at Kelly and Scott. With that, Maureen moved to adjourn until three weeks hence, to give the new committees time to meet and shape their various proposals, and when they'd really get down to business.

As they exited the gallery, Scott felt a hand on his arm. The governor leaned over and whispered. "You'll be on the agenda here Scott, in about three or four more weeks. I plan to go public with my Regents appointments in about a week. Then you'll be asked to appear before the Education Committee for a short hearing and then a vote by the full body. So, it looks like plenty of congratulations are in order for you. First, the LaFollette Scholarship, and in a few more days, a confirmed appointment by the governor." He patted his back. "You're really on your way, son. I'm certain that Maureen's faith and confidence in you is well-founded, and I'm glad that you're willing to serve the state and the University."

Scott inhaled, his eyes widening while Kelly stood to the side, beaming with pride. "Well, thank you governor. That's very kind, and I appreciate your confidence in me with the Regents. I'll try not to let you down, sir."

Ted Hackett smiled and nodded while his aide stood in the background, waiving an arm and pointing at her watch. "I'm sure you won't Scott. You'll be getting official word from my office in a few days. Well, I'm being dragged over to the other house for their love fest. Perhaps I'll see you two again at Senator McCarthy's reception."

Chas Monmouth thumped his feet on the rug, knocking the snow off of his boots. "I don't know why Kip couldn't take care of it before he left this morning."

His mother, Diane, grabbed her coat, and her daughter-in-law, Charlene's, from the closet. "Thank you honey. Kip did clear the sidewalks this morning, and you only needed to blow the snow out of the driveway. Fair's fair, dear." She handed `The Ice Queen' her coat. "We're going to be gone a few hours, looking for a bedroom set for my new grandchild. There's some soup simmering on the stove if you want."

Chas stuffed his gloves in the pockets of his coat before sliding it off of his muscular shoulders. He picked a paper napkin off the kitchen counter and blew his nose. "Is Dad still in his office? I need to get on a computer and check my office e-mails. Been away for almost a week now, and I thought I'd try to get a little work done online today while you girls go out shopping."

"Since you kids are going back to Chicago tomorrow, he decided to work from home today. But he's going out in a while to meet some clients for lunch. Kip's playing basketball up at the high school with some of his buddies, probably for a couple more hours, so you can check your office stuff from there, or wait `til your dad leaves for his meeting."

Chas hung up his coat. "I'll just use Kippy's, then probably have some lunch and take a little nap." He kissed his mother's cheek. "If I'm snoozing when you get back," he put a hand on his pregnant wife's belly and patted it, "give me a shout." Charlene leaned in to his peck on the cheek and smiled.

He wiggled the mouse to dispense with the screen saver and scanned the desktop to find the internet explorer icon. He noticed an image in the lower corner indicating the disk in the drive was opened, so he thought he'd snoop on his little brother's schoolwork. His eyes widened, then a smile erupted across his face. "Well, Kip. Looks like you're not wasting all of your talents in the classroom at college." He opened an email to his personal address at Yahoo.

They entered the ballroom at The Concourse just in time to get in line behind Wisconsin's senior U.S. Senator. The couple right in front of him, Scott was fairly certain, were the biggest donors and power broker lobbyists in all circles of state government. Both of them had been, once upon a time, lawmakers themselves. They had started messing around during their elected tenure, left their elective office at the same time, got married and become partners in their own lobbying firm. They'd more than quadrupled their salaries, by Scott's estimation, and that was probably conservative. There they were, nose to nose, quietly fighting about something or other.

The president's Secretary of Health and Human Services was holding court in one corner, surrounded by aides and a few who appeared to be reporters. She'd gone to Washington directly from the UW, and was a steady political fixture in Wisconsin in her own right. She was looking up at the much taller political operative for the newest environmental lobby group from the Midwest, and was laughing at something he'd just said. Against the back wall, Scott was pretty sure he recognized Milwaukee's newest major philanthropist couple, too busy to spend actual time on the grime that was politics, but happy to have a few glasses of wine with the high and mighty, and to spend their money on office-holders, or to pay for civic structures when the community or the campus needed bricks and mortar. He'd spied at least three members of the vigilant press corps, munching on shrimp and sucking on their drinks, without a notebook or microphone anywhere near them, laughing it up with the rest of the insiders, and looking like some of the chosen few, or the patronized dozens.

"Holy, shit!" He whispered in Kelly's ear. "If there's a Madison corner in political heaven, we're there." At least two former governors were in the room, and Scott suspected the third guy he'd eyed was another one, but he couldn't be certain. If it was, it was a long time ago, when Scotty was just a little kid, and the poor guy hadn't weathered the years with ease. But then, he'd been tossed aside in a hurry by his own party and by the voters.

More power to him,' Scott heard himself think. What do ya' do when you've already been governor, and nobody else wants you?' he wondered. Bagging groceries? Tending bar?' Why not?' he answered himself. `Honest work, real people. Maybe I'll bag groceries or tend bar once I'm retired.'

Maureen was standing in what was sort of an unofficial, unstructured receiving line, flanked by the other five newly elected members of her party. While members from both parties were there, this was still obviously a partisan affair designed to celebrate the ascendancy of Maureen and her like-minded colleagues.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Scott turned expecting to find Kelly.

"Randy! I...uh...I thought you might be here for Maureen's big day.""

"You didn't think we'd miss the coronation, did you? Too much at stake for me an' Dad to pass this occasion up. Happy New Year, Scotty!" Randy swayed a little on his feet. He put a hand on each of Scott's shoulders. "And, congraterlashuns on the scholllarship! Goood goinnn!" He was drunk. It was three in the afternoon on a Tuesday, and Randy was cooked.

"Uh, thanks, Randy. And Happy New Year to you and yours, too."

"Good day, huh? Maureen's in the big chair and the good guys have one house and the gov's manshun, and the gods are in their heavens an' you an' me are here an'..."

Kelly could smell the guy's breath and hear his slurring cadence, and she grabbed Scott's arm.

"Randy, I'd like you to meet Kelly Abbott, Maureen's niece. Kelly...Randy Oakes." Randy smiled and grabbed her hand and shook it rapidly. "Randy was my TA in last semester's state government class."

"'S'nice to meet you, Kelly."

"Good to meet you, Randy." She smiled politely, if nervously. "Scott, there's a break in the action over there. I'm going to go say hi to Mo'"

Scott started to take his leave as well and began to say goodbye, when Randy grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute, Scott! Somebody I wan' you to meet." He waived a hand in the air. "Hey, Dad!" He looked flustered. "Marshall!" he shouted a little louder, grinning quickly when an older version of himself turned and looked around. Marshall Oakes walked their way, weaving a little bit between the chairs. As he neared, Scott could see that his eyes were glassy and a bit red. He wasn't far behind his son.

"Hey, Pop! This is Scott. Scott Turner, Jr. The kid who wrote that political analysis we looked at."

Marshall's face lit up and he grabbed Scott's hand. "Great! Hi, Scott! Great to meet you, son." Scott smiled and nodded, and began to extend his own greeting, when Marshall cut him off. "I know your dad. Great lawyer! Great man! A real asset to the community!" He leaned in and whispered, though loudly. "My son tells me you might be willing to join my little effort back home, some time down the road. Goin' to join us, Scott?" He winked at him knowingly.

"Uhm...nice to meet you, too, Mr. Oakes. I, uh, I don't know for sure. It's early still, and I'm going to be pretty busy the next couple of years."

Marshall swayed a bit. "Well, you keep it in mind. I don' know what we're gonna have for opposition, but I read your stuff. You have a keen mind, son, and I'd love to have you on board."

Scott smiled nervously. He faked it, but managed an expression that said someone was waving at him over Randy's shoulder. "Uhm...I'll think about it, Mr. Oakes. I, uh, gotta go. I'm being summoned." Thankfully, Maureen was waving in his direction when Randy turned and looked over. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Oakes." Marshall nodded and took another slug of his scotch. "Randy," he nodded. "See you around." He beat a hasty retreat before Randy could even nod.

Maureen leaned forward to accept Scott's kiss on the cheek. "Happy New Year, Scotty! So glad you two could make it."

"And you, too, Maureen. And, congratulations again on your big day. This is really cool."

Maureen looked at him with a sly smile. "I saw that you and the governor were getting to know one another a little better up in the gallery."

Scott mirrored her smirk. "And I'm sure the new majority leader had something to do with the seating arrangement up there."

"Did you kids have a good time in Rockford?"

Kelly's answer was still a bit shy. "Yeah. It was fun."

Maureen waved a hand over Scott's shoulder. A moment later, he felt a hand on his back. Glancing back, the governor's face loomed over him to his right. Maureen tapped his elbow. "Scotty, the governor and I wanted to talk to you quickly about your schedule the next few weeks."

The governor took over. "Scott, I know that classes don't resume for a couple more weeks, but do you think you could make it back down here next week? I want to make the announcement on the ninth, and we've scheduled a press conference to introduce my appointments to the Regents." Scott looked surprised. "Relax, son. It's a pretty low-key affair. I think this is important, but it's not exactly headline material. The media contingent will be small. Pretty low pressure stuff."

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

Maureen stepped in. "And then, the following Monday, on the fifteenth, the Education Committee will have a hearing for all three of the appointments."

"Three?"

Hackett explained. "Well, Andrew Pennington is being reappointed, and moved to the chairmanship. Then there's you, of course. And, Andy's move to the chair leaves another seat, and I'm appointing a woman from Wausau to fill the vacancy that's creating."

Scott nodded his understanding, but still wore a look of being overwhelmed. Maureen patted his arm. "Nothing to worry about, Scotty. The hearing will be as subdued as the press conference, probably more so. I'll be there to speak to the committee on your behalf. A few of the members might lob a few easy, softball questions, but it'll be a friendly affair. More like a chat with a committee of five members of the State Senate."

Scott reviewed the calendar in his head. "That ought to work out okay. Classes start that Wednesday, but I can work it out easily enough. I'll just come back Sunday night. That'll give me Monday up here, and all day Tuesday just to loaf around in some peace and quiet, maybe kick around the WSA office and get caught up on some stuff." He mulled it over again. "Yeah, that would all work pretty well."

Maureen patted his back. "Good. This is going to be fun."

The governor smiled. "Yeah, but the Regents are going to have some fairly heavy lifting to do in the next few years." He crossed his arms and stared at Scott. "There are some real challenges facing the University System on the horizon, Scott. We're going to have to work hard to maintain its integrity and status, but without hitting the taxpayers too hard in the pocketbook. I have no doubt that you'll face them with a sincere interest in what's best for everybody involved. It's a big responsibility, but I know you can handle it."

Maureen's expression showed a hint of surprise. Laying the groundwork, huh, Ted?' she thought to herself. He's not even announced yet, let alone confirmed, and you're starting the gentle twisting of the arms already.'

Scott nodded. "Like I said, governor, I hope you know I'll do my best."

The governor patted his back. "I know you will, Scott. I know I can count on you." He smiled and sighed. "Well, Scott," He nodded at Kelly and Maureen. "Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to press the flesh for a few more minutes, then have to get back to the office." Looking back at Scott. "We'll see you next week, then. Someone from the office will call you at home with all the details...time and place and all that stuff."

Scott nodded and smiled. "Thank you, governor. See you then." He looked back at their smiling faces and sighed. "Whew! He doesn't waste any time, does he?"

Maureen chuckled. "Get used to it Scott. Ted Hackett is a man with a plan, and he's always trying to stay ahead of events by working the players in advance. You'll get another dose of it next week when he makes the announcement on the appointments. You can expect some lofty rhetoric in public about the challenges facing the Regents, and he'll hint very strongly about the budget constraints facing the state. He's planting seeds right now, Scott, trying to set expectations and prepare the public for what's coming. He's a master at that, and it's an important skill in this business."

Kelly took his hand. "Had enough of the schmoozing with the bigwigs, Scott?" She squeezed it gently.

"Yeah, I suppose." He gestured around the room with his head and a sweep of his eyes. "Sounds like I'm gonna be getting enough of this in the next couple weeks, so I'm ready to head out if you are." They both exchanged hugs and kisses with Maureen once more, and let her get back to her own working of the crowd.

He was buckling his seatbelt and shaking his head. "Man! Not sure I'm ready for much more of this shit. I just want to make it through that press conference, then the hearings, and slide back below the radar as one of fifteen members of the Board of Regents." He drove around the cul de sac next to the domed building and back out onto West Washington Avenue.

Kelly looked over. "Still, you're positively gushing."

He shrugged an admission of ego. "Yeah. Gotta admit, it's kinda heady stuff." She put her hand on his knee. He let the weight of the leg lean into the light grasp. "After all," he looked over and winked. "I got a press conference and a hearing coming. Who else do ya' know who has a press conference, and a confirmation hearing on their calendar?" Scott loosened his tie and he unbuttoned the top notch in his shirt. Then, he slapped the wheel lightly, and hummed along with the commercial jingle that was playing on the radio, tapping his fingers to its rhythm.

Kip was on all fours, his shins resting on the edge of his bed's mattress. He bit into the corner of the pillow clenched between his forearms. Chas had wrapped the elastic band of the jock strap tightly around his fingers and pulled it taut, looking like a cowboy holding the reins of his steed. His gaze was intense as he faced down and grunted with every pounding thrust into his little brother.

"Givin' it away in Madison, little brother, and you don't think you have enough to offer dear old Chas over the holidays? Think again, boy. You love this cock, Kippy." He gritted his teeth and slammed again into Kip's ass. "You love this cock, don't you? You used to beg me for it, and now you think you're too fucking good to serve it up for old Chas? This ass is mine, Kip, and you fucking love it." Kip grunted and whimpered into the down-filled pillow. Tears leaked from each pair of airtight eyelids.

He'd come back from the pickup game at his old high school just as his father was leaving for lunch. They'd exchanged waves as their cars passed each other in the driveway. Stepping into his bedroom, he found his older brother staring at the computer screen, his jeans pulled down to his knees and his shiny cock gripped firmly in his fist. A sick wave thundered through the pit of his stomach. Chas was beaming, a hint of perspiration above his upper lip and his brows. "Nice shots you got here, Kip. Not a bad lookin' dude you're going at it with. I'm gonna enjoy looking at these for a good long time. Saved a set for myself and sent them to my inbox. I wonder if the folks would like a copy so that they can completely share in your college experience." He stood up, a hungry leer on his face, and put a hand on Kip's shoulder, forcing him to his knees. At this point, Kip knew that he had no choice.

By the time he'd pulled back into The Union's parking lot to deliver Kelly to her car, her hand was more than half way up his thigh and his cock was more than half hard.

"Uhm...you know, there's probably nobody back at the house because of the break. Want to come back for a while before we both have to go home?" Her hand slid another inch upward.

He let the car idle to keep it warm, but unbuckled his seatbelt to give him room to move his hips. He was getting uncomfortable, down there. He cleared his throat. "And, just what did you have in mind, Ms. Abbott?"

The back of her hand slid across the swollen mound between the pleats of his slacks. "Well, the New Year's celebration just seems somehow incomplete, Mr. Turner. I thought we could maybe cap it off in the best possible way." The flat of her hand came back across the bulge, and this time grabbed it. "And so, apparently, do you."

"You know, we had the chance the other night, and Marty tried to help, and he probably thought we rocked out for a good long time on New Year's Eve, but..."

She smiled and nodded. "I'm over it, Scott. It was what it was, and I believe you. But now, let's get back to you and me. She squeezed the tube beneath the fine fabric. Happy New Year."

She looked around. Theirs were the only two cars in the Union lot. A naughty grin overtook her lips, and she had "that" look in her eye. Before Scott could say anything, her head descended, and her face was in his lap. She playfully gnawed and the elongated lump beneath the pleats of his slacks.

Scott gasped. "Jesus Christ, Kelly! You're gonna get us arrested! It's broad frickin' daylight."

She reached over his thighs to the side of his seat, hooked the release latch with her fingers, and pulled up. Scott fell backward, nearly horizontal.

She didn't look up, but merely grasped the tab on his zipper. "Hush. There's hardly anybody on campus for another week."

Again, before he could react, she was ahead of him. He felt her fingers slink through the slit of his boxers, and grasp his rod.

"Oh!" She stroked it a few times as she released it into the car's cooler air. "Oooohhh." She swallowed most of its length. "Ooooh! Mmmmmmmmmmmmhhh." Scott gave in and could only pant. He reached down and stroked his fingers through that gorgeous auburn hair.

From this position, he could just barely see the driver's side mirror. He was glad for that, too, when he caught the passing flash of another vehicle enter the lot behind them.

"Car! Kelly! Another car!"

She shot upright, a guilty grin on her face, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Scott fumbled for a moment, but found the latch and righted his seat. The head of his cock still poked through his zipper. With some readjustment of his weight and posture, he negotiated it back inside and managed to zip up again without too much obvious body language, just as the campus security vehicle pulled up right behind his car.

"Follow me back to the house!"

"You sure?"

She opened the car door and stepped out, turning back to look inside. "There's really nobody there. Not for a few more days. I'm an officer at the house. I have a key." She shut the door, turned and gave a friendly wave to the campus guard, unlocked her car door and got inside.

The security vehicle slowly rolled on, giving Scott room to back out of his stall and wait for Kelly to start her car, and precede him out of the lot.

Scott had never been in Kelly's room, but didn't bother to inspect the surroundings. He was already hard again, after having deflated in a hurry with the intrusion of campus security. Clothes flew about, landing her and there, and would have to be sorted out later. Quickly down to his boxers, he looked up just in time to see Kelly's hands. She pushed him back, and he fell onto the bed. He didn't argue. In an instant, she was on her knees between his legs, grasping at the legs of his shorts. He lifted his ass, and they slid to the floor. The head of his cock caught on the elastic, but the tension was no match for Kelly's determination. It slapped against his abdomen.

Kelly pushed his thighs apart a bit further, giving her access to his sac. Her tongue flicked rapidly back and forth across the bottom of both nuts, causing him to shiver. She sucked first one, then the other into her mouth while she reached around and unbuckled her bra. The silk undergarment fell from her shoulders. From this position, Scott could only imagine those beautiful globes he admired so dearly.

Still sucking on his nuts, her right hand left his thigh and found the hot, rock hard tool above her. She gripped it firmly, pulling it vertical and stroked it several times. Her index finger crept up to the head and rubbed a generous emission of precum around and around, bring a sharp gasp from above her. She smiled and released his balls. Scott propped up on his elbows and looked down, just as Kelly scooted up several inches and closely admired the beautiful appendage between her fingers.

Scott grinned. "Hungry, are you?"

She looked up and returned the smirk. "Didn't have time to stop for lunch on the way up, remember?" Her tongue snaked forward and, starting at his scrotum, slowly danced its way up the length of the underside.

Scott exhaled a low moan. Once she'd reached the tip, her lips encased the head and she began a slow descent. Scott looked down, transfixed by the sight of his aching tool disappearing between her lips. "Oooooohhhh! Kellllllllly!" He felt the tip meet the back of her mouth, and then sat transfixed, himself emerge again from her sucking lips. Kelly wrapped her thumb and two fingers around the shaft, never letting go of the head. She commenced a slow, rhythmic bobbing, complemented by a stroking of her hand. Scott dropped his head back and closed his eyes, reveling in the wondrous sensations coursing though his groin. After several minutes, a very familiar feeling began to form, and he opened his eyes. "Kelly! Gotta slow it down. You're gonna make me cum in a hurry if you keep that up."

From between his thighs, Kelly's face appeared once again, with a grin on it. She slowly stood, though maintained her grip. "Well, we're gonna keep that up" she squeezed and giggled. She hooked her hands behind Scott's knees and pulled, encouraging him to scoot forward on the mattress by about a foot. She stood and straddled his lap, facing him, and slipped her hands behind his neck. Their mouths mashed together in a hungry sucking match. Scott's hands slid up her ribs, feeling her panting, until he found the immediate objects of his affections. He groped and kneaded the firm mounds of flesh, and flicked her nipples with his thumbs. Kelly moaned into his mouth. She inched herself closer, until he felt her moistened lower lips meet his upright shaft, and she began to thrust her pussy back and forth against him. He moaned into her mouth.

Scott leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her back. He lowered her torso, down and backwards, her pussy lips never leaving the contact with his drizzling pole. She had to hook the tops of her feet underneath the bed frame for balance. Scott broke the kiss and buried his face between her breasts, licking and kissing the salty canyon, tasting a light sheen of perspiration. His lips pecked and sucked their way to the right, until he found the erect nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, and felt her grip a handful of hair on the back of his head. She was nearly horizontal now, still sitting on Scott's thighs, and her head dropped backward, eyes closed. Scott continued to feast on the globes, back and forth, licking, sucking, lightly nibbling. He felt her right hand slide beneath his dick, and she began fingering her self, purring while he lavished his hungry oral activity back and forth across her chest.

Scott pulled her back upright, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and licked and sucked his way up to her left ear. He sucked the lobe into his mouth, and gently bit it. Kelly giggled and slapped him on the shoulder. He released it, and she quickly stood. She leaned over and down, opening the drawer of her nightstand. She whispered through her heavy breathing. "I've been waiting for the chance for you to visit, so that we could put these to use."

Scott sighed with relief. He hadn't expected this tryst and he had no protection with him. Kelly quickly unwrapped the sheath. In mere seconds, she had rolled it down his entire length, and resumed her position straddling his thighs. She nudged him forward on the mattress a little more, and encouraged him to lean back a little bit, giving her better access to what she wanted. She grabbed the missile and slowly bent her knees until her own drooling opening came into contact with the head. Once certain of the aim, she deliberately lowered herself further, engulfing Scott's manhood in the very moist warmth. Her eyes closed, and a blissful smile beamed up toward the ceiling. She locked her fingers behind his neck, and held the position for a moment, enjoying the fullness of him inside of her. She ground her groin back and forth an inch or two, creating enough movement and friction to cause her to purr again. "Oooooohhhhh, Scott!"

She started to rise a few inches as Scott's hands grabbed her waist. He face swooped down again, and they resumed the tongue battle as Kelly began fucking herself with Scott's steely pole. Soon, her tits were dancing as she bounced up and down on him with vigor. Their voices became a duet of rhythmic moans with each thrust. The only cogent thought that Scott could form was a vague sense of relief that the house was empty, except for the young couple making all the noise in the room at the end of the hall of the second floor.

Kelly stood and grabbed Scott's biceps. He opened his eyes. "That's a lot of fun, babe, but from there, I can't get to all of you." Her elbow landed on the carpeted floor and she tugged at his arm. "I want all of you Scotty. I need to have every bit of you inside of me." He was over her in an instant, gripping his wet, red meat and taking aim. As he slowly entered, her eyes rolled back. "Ooooooohhhh, yyyeeessssssss! That's what Kelly needs, you...fucking...stud!"

Scott felt his pelvis grinding into hers, and he gave one more short thrust for good measure. Kelly emitted a sharp yelp. Scott snorted. "You said you wanted it all." He gently bit her shoulder and thrust once more deep inside her.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah!" Kelly gasped.

Scott raised his torso and took hold of her legs beneath the knees. He began a slow, measured back and forth motion with his hips. He looked down and admired the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her. Kelly's eyes were closed, and she whimpered her enjoyment while she bit on her lower lip. Her hands began toying with her breasts while her head rolled back and forth on the floor. Scott could feel the sweat rolling down his heaving pecs, and he picked up the pace. Soon, any passerby could have heard the slaps of his thighs against hers through the door. Kelly opened her eyes and looked at Scott. Their eyes locked, and she was captivated by the smoldering sneer of this man on a mission.

Kelly grabbed each of his forearms in a tight grasp and tried to use the leverage to pull herself into each one of his manic thrusts. He felt her grip tighten even further, her nails digging into his flesh and she began to whimper. "Scott! Yeah! Scott! Yeah! Oh! Oh!" She gasped a deep breath and her body quaked. He felt the orgasm through the pulsing muscles surrounding his pounding tool. Her upper torso bucked off the floor several times as she squealed her delight.

Now on the verge himself, Scott withdrew. He peeled off the rubber and gripped his crimson rod. She encouraged him through her exhausted pants. "Yeah Scotty! I want to see you shoot. Gimme that load, big man! Shoot your load on me, Scotty." He straddled her knees and began pounding his cock with a fury. His body stiffened and he grunted. His juice sprayed, first across both tits, and Kelly gasped. "Yeah!" He quivered and quaked through five more shots of his jism, all over her upper body and sweaty stomach. Kelly giggled her delight and she began rubbing his seed all over her glistening flesh. Scott collapsed forward, catching his fall with one hand flat on the floor. He slowly lowered himself and lay on top of her, gasping into her ear. She gently stroked his back as he continued to pant his way down from his orgasmic high.

After another minute, he rolled off of her and laughed. "You, Ms. Abbott, are a wonder...a marvel." He swallowed hard, but his throat was still dry. "You know that?"

She rolled to her side and draped an arm over his chest. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart. "Yup." She stroked his chest gently.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Shit, Kelly! About six hours ago, I'm worried that you're pissed, or suspicious, or jealous or whatever of that one stupid kiss, and now you give me the fucking of my life. Damn! What a day!"

"Tell you what, stud." She gently pinched his nipple and he squirmed. "You keep putting out like that, and for all I'm concerned, you can kiss Marty any time you want."

A week later, Scott stood outside the driver's side door and checked his tie in the reflection in the window. It was pretty overcast that day, so he didn't have to squint to see through a nasty reflection from a bright winter sun. Not bad. Big Scott and Suzanne would have preferred to be here, but it happened so fast. Dad had a trial today, and Mom had agreed long ago to personally oversee a major decorating project for an office complex in Des Moines, so he'd kissed them both on the cheek and left for Madison three hours earlier.

He went through the revolving door of the Capitol confidently, but had to pee something awful. A two-hour drive, one pit stop and three large cups of coffee will do that to a guy. Happily, he knew where the nearest men's room was. He stepped up to the urinal, closed his eyes and sighed through most of a very satisfying piss. Then, a damned toilet flushed, dragging him back from the Nirvana of a good bladder exercise. Scott opened his eyes, shook his head gently, his dick vigorously, and then cleared his throat while he packed "Little Scotty" back into his boxers. He zipped up and turned around.

"Mr. Pennington!"

Andy was leaning over the sink and had just turned on the hot water. He looked in the mirror and smiled. "Mr. Turner! I'd stand up straight to shake your hand, but, er...under the circumstances..." He looked down plaintively at his soap-covered hands.

Scott smiled and waved him off. "Let's take a minute...under the circumstances." He washed his hands in record speed, and was pulling paper towels in tandem with Andy less than a minute later.

Andy took the lead. He felt like he needed to mend fences and gain ground with this kid, and that rubbed him the wrong way. But, under the circumstances, on his way to the top of the Board, he was willing to swallow. Plus, better to make amends here, rather than out in the public eye. "Good to see you again, Scott, although I never dreamed it'd be in this setting. I, uhm, probably owe you an apology after our last meeting, the way I spelled it out that I was putting my weight behind Kip Monmouth's interest in this post. It's just that we..."

Scott tried to be polite by sparing him an apology, and cut him off in mid-sentence. "Not to worry, Mr. Pennington." He tossed the paper towels into the trash. "I've had some folks urging me on, or backing me for important stuff in the past, so I know what it's like to be in his shoes, with someone going to bat for them. Kip, ah, explained that it just wasn't going to work for him, and he was very generous and gracious in his announcement to the WSA about his decision to withdraw from consideration."

Andy smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Guess it just wasn't going to work for him. But, if it matters, he made it clear to me that you'd be an outstanding addition to the board."

Scott wanted to laugh out loud, but suppressed it. `Yeah. Right,' he thought.

Andy extended a hand. "No hard feelings, then? I look forward to working with you, Scott."

Scott squelched a smirk, shook his head and took the hand. "None at all, Mr. Pennington, and the happy anticipation is mutual."

They walked into the governor's office together, and were introduced by an aide to Ms. Abigail Svendsen from Wausau. She was a sixty-something year old little waif of a woman, with short hair, mostly still blond. She'd long been the director of a northern Wisconsin non-profit organization that provided free legal advocacy and counsel to women. Most, she explained, were in abusive situations, or recently abandoned or divorced, and needed someone in their corner who knew the system. She'd been active in supporting numerous political causes and candidates, and the governor's admiration for her had earned his nomination to fill the last vacant seat on the Board. When Scott mentioned his hometown, her face lit up. "Turner...Why, are you Evelyn Turner's grandson? Oh my God...you are, aren't you?" She scrutinized his face once again. "Yes...yes...I can see a resemblance."

"Yes ma'am! You know my Gran?"

She waved a hand in front of her face and rolled her eyes. "Oh, my yes! Haven't seen her in years! But, back in our heyday, we raised more than a little hell together!" She chuckled.

"Fought the good fights with my Gran, did you?"

She giggled over a couple fleeting memories. "Oh, Scott. I'll have stories to tell. But, you tell me...how is Evelyn? Like I said, I haven't heard a thing from or of her in...forever!"

She took him by the arm and led them to two chairs against the wall to wait before their introduction to the state press.

"Well, she's in a nursing home back home, for about the past six months or so." Abigail looked worried. "Alzheimers."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, is she...?"

"She still has more good days than bad, Ms. Svendsen. I saw a lot of her at Thanksgiving, and now, before I have to come back for the second semester, I'm stopping to visit nearly every day."

She patted his hand. "Like a good grandson. Do tell her I send my best. I'll try to arrange to stop in and see her for a visit during one of my trips down here for the Regents."

Scott nodded. "I'm sure she'd like that. She'll be thrilled that we've met, and that we're going to be working together."

"Goooooood morning, ladies and gentlemen!" Ted Hacket strode into the room and interrupted their conversation. He walked around and shook everyone's hand, then clapped his own together. "Well, this is going to be a piece of cake. We'll all sit at the table up front, and I'll make brief introductions of each of you, mostly biographies we've gathered. Then, I'll make a few comments on the challenges facing the UW System and its Board of Regents to help set and clarify my agenda for the near future. Then, there may be one or more questions from the few members of the press who are there."

`Few members. He wasn't kidding,' Scott thought as they walked into the conference room. They totaled three. One Scott recognized from one of the two campus papers. The others had to be print reporters as well. They weren't blow-dried and coiffed, and sat there with their pads and pens on their laps reviewing the release that the governor's office had just handed out regarding the appointments. Other press corps members were receiving theirs in their Capitol mailboxes at about the same time.

The governor thanked the reporters for making the time to join them. He introduced Andrew first, adding that he was confident that Mr. Pennington's experience on the board and his keen insights into the various issues facing the UW in the coming years, combined with his leadership skills, would serve the University System very well. Abigail's introduction was a bit longer, as she was one of the newcomers. He cited several accomplishments over her activist career, and warmly welcomed her to the agency. Scott was last. The governor noted that he was only the fourth student ever to serve the students in this capacity, since the law had been passed adding a student representative. He cited Scott's presidency of the WSA and his recent recognition through the LaFollette Scholarship as examples of his promise, both now and in the future. He expressed his confidence that the student voice would be well represented and well spoken by this "remarkable young man." Scott looked down at the table, and blushed a little. Then Hackett asked, "Any questions?"

The skinny guy in front raised his pen and the governor nodded.

"Mr. Pennington, as the state gears up for its regular budget struggles, do you think it's reasonable to hope that the students in the system can continue to see annual tuition increases so far below the cost of living hikes that most taxpayers have had to absorb?"

Andy cleared his throat. "Well, that remains to be seen. We haven't even had a chance to hear from the governor directly about what his goals are regarding the coming budget. The Board will play its normal role in the budget process, but until the governor lays out his budget goals for the various state agencies, it would be irresponsible for any of us to speculate about student tuition in the coming years."

The guy came back. "But, you will concede, won't you, the plain fact that students in the UW system pay out of pocket only a small portion of the total cost of their education, and that their share is considerably less than students in nearly every other state in the country, won't you? I mean, that's not speculation. It's a black and white fact."

Andy sipped his water. "It is true that Wisconsin has continued to hang onto its proud tradition of making higher education as accessible as possible, within the responsible constraints of the state's revenue and spending plans."

The reporter rolled his eyes. "But..."

Andy cut him off. "But, yes. Students, and their families, at any one of our state campuses pay roughly one-third of the total cost of providing their college educations. That is, as you say, a black and white fact. And, I'd add, that maximum access to college is something the people of Wisconsin can point to as a point of pride in the state's overall quality of life."

The governor interjected. "Nonetheless, until I've delivered my budget message to the legislature next month, and have had a chance to lay out my priorities for the state as a whole, Mr. Pennington is correct. It wouldn't be very responsible for any of us to speculate on the direction of student tuition."

The campus reporter raised her hand. "Mr. Turner. What do you hope to accomplish as the only student on the Regents?"

It was Scott's turn to clear his throat. "I can't say I have any set agenda as of yet. In general, I hope to provide the other members with the clearest voice of the students' perspectives and interests as we try to deal with the various issues facing the system and its student body. But, specific accomplishments, as you put it, will likely be situational. It'll depend on what faces us in the months and years ahead."

She followed up. "Do you really think a student will ever really make a difference on this board? Do you really think you're going to be taken seriously?"

Scott sipped, then nodded. "Well, by virtue of the governor's appointment, and assuming I'm confirmed by the Senate, I'd say that I, and every member, deserves to be taken seriously. Real credibility, however, comes in degrees, and I've found it needs to be earned. So, I guess I'd say one goal of mine as we move forward, would be to conduct myself in a manner that merits the highest degree of credibility in the eyes and minds of my new colleagues." She was writing furiously. "As to whether I can make a difference? Well, the math can't be ignored. The student Regent is only one of fifteen members. That's another black and white fact. I guess you'll just have to keep watching and judge for yourself whether or not this student Regent is making a difference. It'll depend on the issue, I suppose. I can assure you, though, that no decisions will be made by this body without completely considering the student perspective and point of view."

The governor looked around. "Anything else?" All three shook their heads. He went to stand, and the others followed suit. "Well, then, thank you very much."

Abigail put a hand on his arm. "Your grandmother would be so proud," she whispered.

Scott exhaled. "Whew. I hope so, Ms. Svendsen. I hope so."

The governor interrupted. "Folks, I have a meeting to be to in about three minutes. Thank you all again for your service." He patted Scott on the back. "You did an excellent job up there, Scott. You're a natural at this game, you know?" Andy nodded and smiled his agreement.

He had considered stopping by the WSA office to see if "Radar" might be there. It would be just like Walter, thought Scott, to drive down from Horicon, just to mind the store, if only for a day or two, during the break. But, he'd be back in Madison in less than a week, and he wanted to get home. Even if his earlier anxiety had been unnecessary, he was still feeling a bit exhausted, and the family had planned a celebratory dinner at his favorite steak house to mark his scholarship award.

On Sunday, Scott was back at Pineview, visiting his Gran' for the last time before driving back to Madison for the hearing, and the start of the second semester. He sat in a chair next to the bed, and stewed. Evelyn wasn't good. She complained of being short of breath, and was afflicted by a nagging cough. These were the side effects of the heart medicine she was now taking, in addition to the treatments for the Alzheimer's

The toiled flushed and the bathroom door opened. "Jesus! It seems like some days I spend more time in there than I do out here. I think the damned doctors are trying to dry me out completely with those friggin' heart pills."

She took her seat and covered her legs with an afghan, then surveyed the situation on the television. "What a dipshit." One of the Jeopardy contestants had been in the hole for five minutes, and was digging it deeper with every effort to answer a question. "He'd do himself a favor to just put down that buzzer and keep his friggin' mouth shut." She turned toward her grandson and plopped her chin onto her palm. "So, you met Abby Svendson. Lord! I haven't heard from her in...oh, at least a decade. How's the old lesbian doing? I wonder if she and Sharon are still together."

Scott's mouth dropped. "Huh?"

She waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, Scott, grow up. She's one of my favorite people on the planet. A huge heart and a great soul, and when we were marching together for all that's right and good, she met Sharon. They were the perfect couple. Still are, I imagine. They've been living an `out' life up in Wausau since they were in their twenties. What is she, now, about sixty-five or so? She kinda became my little sister for a while there, and then Sharon pretty much swept her off her feet." She considered it for a moment. "Now, there's the perfect example of good, healthy and, I guess, normal same-sex relationships. Anybody who freaks out about gay and lesbian partners should meet these two. Hell, everybody should meet these two. Most married couples I've known would be lucky to have their relationship."

"She seems really nice."

Evelyn handed him the hairbrush and nodded. "A firebrand, kinda like your ol' Gran. I used to love to tease her about playing for the other team. She'd dish it right back, claiming I didn't know what I was missing, what with your Grandpa and all. She actually hit on me once before Sharon came into her life."

Scott stood behind the chair and began to brush her snow-white locks. "Are you shitting me? She made a move on you?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call it a move. More like a very obvious suggestion. I just laughed, told her I was flattered, and said I don't go there. Not that she's not an attractive woman, cuz back in the day she was actually a real hot gal. Just not my thing." She shrugged. "I admit I don't quite get it. But, I came to the conclusion at an early age that it's just plain stupid to reach any kind of judgment on something that we admit we don't understand. So, we moved on, remained dear friends, and it never came up again." Then she giggled again. "Not that anything could come up' with Abby, and that's what I was lookin' for." She wiggled her eyebrows and winked.

Scott inhaled deeply and shook his head. "Okay, Gran. New topic. Your grandson has no need to hear about what you were always hoping would `come up.'"

They both laughed.

"Scotty, there are a few things I want to share with you."

He smiled. He recognized that tone. She was about to dispense some wisdom. "That's why I come to visit, Gran. So you can fill my head and my heart with all sorts of your left-wing, rabble-rousing, hell-raising propoganda. I'm just here to humor you, ya' know."

Her hand shot upward and, without opening her eyes, she had a hold on his right ear in an instant. "Don't be a shit, you little shit. I can still kick your ass, you know."

He folded sideways at the neck, so her hand was scrunched between the side of his head and his shoulder. "Ow! Why does everybody keep calling me a little shit?" She smiled, sighed and coughed, and he frowned at the affliction. "Okay, Gran', what's it gonna be today?"

She smiled a well-worn smile at his submission. "Today, I'm going to pick up where we left off not too long ago." She breathed deep again, and exhaled. "I thought over a conversation we had a little while back, Scotty, about not hurting others, even the assholes out there, just for the sake of hurting them. That's gotta be for good reason and when you have no choice."

"Right...yeah, I remember. I got that, my dear."

"But I didn't get it all out, and that occurred to me before I went to sleep that night...or some time during the night when I couldn't sleep...or the next day...or, whenever." She tapped a knee in frustration. "Oh screw it. I just know I didn't cover all the bases I wanted to."

Scott felt a twinge of apprehension at her confusion. "'kay, Gran. So, spill it now. Educate your favorite grandson."

"If you're ever in the position to call the shots, before you bust their balls, or disregard them entirely, try to win them over, Scotty. Try to build bridges, even to the real f'ers in this world.

"I just believe that everybody has a redeeming quality, or at least a glimmer of hope, and is worth taking a shot at. I came to see that, and I hope you'll see this too, that a even a lot of the bastards out there have a potential for doing the right thing that just never got nudged. If somebody's gonna fuck it all up, and if you're gonna have a hand in showing them and the world that they fucked up, give em a last chance. Give em the rope to hang themselves if they choose, but you also have to give `em a chance to walk away from the noose, and hope for the best. It's the right thing to do."

She closed her eyes, and they were both quiet for a long time while Scott lovingly brushed her hair. The silence was broken by Evelyn's labored breathing, and the occasional cough. Finally, she inhaled very deeply, and sighed. "I want you to know something, Scotty."

"What's that, Gran?"

"I'm ready."

"Huh? Ready for what?"

"Every night I say two prayers. First that my son, his wife and my grandson will continue to be happy and healthy and find all the success they deserve." Scott nodded. "Then," she sighed another heavy sigh, and coughed, "I ask the Almighty to take me home."

Scott hid a gasp. "Oh, Gran. Don't say that. Please don't say that!" He choked on a couple words.

"I just wanted to let you in on it. You know I've never been an ardent churchgoer, but my faith is solid. I believe in prayer, Scotty," she sighed a quick giggle, "and I've got my bases covered there. I pray to all of `em. God, Jehovah, Buddah, Allah, Elijah, Vishnu, Jesus, Yahweh, Confucius, practically everybody except Jimmy Swaggert or Jerry Falwell" She winked, "even Haile Selassie from time to time...when I was a young rebel. Like I say, I might not know all the answers, but I usually can figure out where to go to try and get them. I figure, why limit my options?"

Scott sniffed yet again, but couldn't help but snicker a little bit.

Evelyn jabbed a finger in the air. "Oh! And Vince Lombardi. I also pray to Vince Lombardi."

Scott slapped his knee with a guffaw that only caused his nose to run even more. He sniffed deeply and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve.

Evelyn leaned back and stared back up at the ceiling, then she continued. "And, when I say my prayers, Scotty, I know that often, the answer is `no,' but I want you to know that I'm asking the powers that be to take me. I'm ready."

He sniffed again, his voice cracking a little bit more. "Gran. Stop! Don't say that!"

She reached over her shoulder and gently took his hand, guiding him around to sit back down on the chair beside hers. Her voice was weak, but its tone was determined. "But, it's what I want, Scotty. I've always been nothing other than up front and honest with you. Scotty, I've seen what this curse does to people, what it's done to some of my friends. I've seen what it does to their families. I'm still relatively sane, pretty much with it on more days than I'm not. I've lived a good life, and loved a great family, and my usefulness has pretty much been spent."

Scott's eyes welled with tears. "No. No, it hasn't Gran! I don't want you to suffer, either, but don't call yourself useless. We need you. I need you."

She patted his hand, and held out a Kleenex. "Scotty, what you need now are the memories of me. You don't know how much good it does my feeble heart to hear you say that. But from here on out, it'll be the memory of me that will be with you. If that does you any good, then it'll mean so much to me just knowing that."

He wiped his eyes and shook his head, lost for words. He knew not to argue with this woman about anything, even her determination to pass on. "I just want you to know that I'm going to ask the Lord again tonight, and tomorrow night, and the night after. And, when it happens, you have to know that I'm leaving happy. Happy, in large measure, because of how you've enriched this old life. You're a fine young man, Scott, and it's music to my ears every time you call me your Gran. Every time I see a glimmer of myself in you, I just want to burst with pride. I can go, knowing that I've left the world a better place than I found it, and knowing that I've left at least a shred of this old battle axe behind to keep on fighting the good fight."

Scott dropped his face into his hands and sobbed. She patted his head. "Scotty, what if I were to get my final wish tonight and we had never had this little talk? Yes I want you to miss me, and I'm even more comforted in knowing that you will. But also that you'll remember me. And when it happens, when I get my final prayer granted, I want you to promise that you'll say a prayer of thanks."

He grabbed her hand and kissed it. His breath stuttered through a deep inhale. "Whatever you want, Gran. I won't join you in praying for an end to your time with us, but I'll say a prayer of thanks when it happens. For you."

Kip opened his e-mail.

"Don't know when you're going back for the second semester, but I'll be back in Madison on the 15th, first for some legal stuff, and then for the confirmation hearing. If you can be there, I can't wait to bend you over the chair in my hotel room, our hotel room, when I'm in Madison in a couple of days. I'd like to say `fuck the clients and fuck that goddamned meeting,' and spend the whole day fucking you. Beg me to fuck you, Kip!"

It was good to be back.

Scott walked through the empty hallway of his dorm, pulling the suitcase behind him. The first day of classes was still two days off, so the place wouldn't fill up until tomorrow. He was happy for the solitude. During most of the drive back he thought about the afternoon's conversation with Evelyn, and he just wanted to spend the night alone in his room. Tomorrow he'd appear before the Education Committee for his confirmation hearing, and was anxious to get it over with. Happily, Maureen had invited him over to her apartment for dinner, and to brief him on what to expect during the hearing. He was going to relax in the quiet, empty dorm, visit his dear friend and mentor, have one last home cooked meal, then get back to the room early and stare at the ceiling.

Maureen removed the casserole from the oven and set it in the center of the table. "It's not much, but I get tired of eating out all the time when I'm here. Need some plain ol' comfort food now and again."

"Yeah, I'm not relishing the return to dorm food after almost a month at home." She removed the glass cover, and the steam from the chicken and noodles wafted upward. "Mmmm. Smells great, Maureen." He sliced the loaf of French bread on the cutting board between them as she dished up the plates.

"So, you do know where the meeting room is, right?"

"The notice from the committee gave me the room number. On the third floor, right?"

She tasted a noodle and reached for the salt. "Yup. You know where my new office is, right? Well, the Education Committee meets in a small hearing room immediately above me."

Scott speared a forkful of lettuce and lifted it. "I can find it." He stuffed his mouth with salad.

"So, anyway, the chairman of the committee will introduce each one of you, separately, and you'll be invited to make an opening statement before the committee. Just tell them how pleased you are to be honored by the appointment, how devoted you are to the UW, how you admire the important role that the Regents plays in maintaining our proud traditions, blah, blah, blah..."

"Are there a lot of people at these things?"

"Not normally, unless it's a major piece of legislation, or one that's not so major in its impact but has gained a lot of headlines. Or, in the case of a confirmation, if the nominee is in some way surrounded by controversy. If that were true in any of your cases, you'd have heard by now. In fact, you wouldn't have made it this far if there was any baggage, or skeletons in your closet. Ted's not in the habit of making appointments that are going to make waves, especially not now."

Scott breathed deep. "Are you going to be there?"

She nodded. "I'm not on the committee, but have asked the chair to give me a few minutes to appear as a witness. I want to publicly endorse the governor's exceptional judgment in making such a sound nomination." She smiled at him warmly.

As the napkin came away from his lips, it revealed a knowing grin. "Is that the majority leader's way of signaling the members to get in line? A public expression of your intent must have some effect on the rest in the party, huh?"

She raised her eyebrows at the insight. "You're learning, Scott." Then she shrugged. "And, sometimes such a move can be another tool in the power box, if there's a concern about a recalcitrant member or two. You call them out in public, sort of draw a line in the sand, and it can make it tougher for one to buck the party's leadership. In this case, it's not necessary, but sometimes it is. Of course, I prefer to do all my arm twisting behind closed doors." She winked.

After a minute of quiet repast, Maureen looked across the table again. "So, when's the first meeting?"

"Well, Mr. Pennington has notified us that, even though we're not confirmed yet, he'd like to have kind of an organizational meeting next week. Part get-to-know you social stuff for the newbies, part scheduling and procedural crap for everybody. It's gonna be dinner a week from Friday night at The Concourse. Sounds like mostly schmoozing, though there is a short agenda before the meal. But, until we're confirmed, we can't formally act on anything."

Maureen's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't be surprised if he took the opportunity to start laying the groundwork and greasing the skids on the tuition issue. I'll bet he'll at least mention the coming budget challenges and start preparing the members for the need of a hefty tuition hike."

"You know, that came up at the press conference. Some snotty little twit from...I think it was the State Journal. Anyway, he pressed Pennington on the tuition question. I got the feeling that there's already some momentum out there for an increase."

Maureen chuckled. "Snotty little twit. Sounds like Bruce Weeden from the State Journal. Skinny, pencil-neck, dark hair not very well groomed?"

Scott smiled with a mouthful of chicken and noodles and nodded.

"Yup, that's Bruce. To his tribe, anything that government does or doesn't do, but that can possibly be construed as requiring taxation is evil. But, then, he's Ivy League. Doesn't share our appreciation for the University." She scoffed. "The joke around the press room is that he's pissed at Madison because it's not New York, and pissed at The State Journal because it's not the Wall Street Journal, and he's pissed at every dollar he has because it's not a ten."

"So, keep my mouth shut around him, huh?"

"I doubt he'll pay you much attention. You're only the lowly student member, after all," she teased a little, "But, yeah, that would be a good rule of thumb in his case. He can be a royal pain in the ass." She sipped her iced tea. "Speaking of the press conference, Ted tells me you handled yourself rather deftly. Nice job."

Scott shrugged and chuckled. "All I did was give a couple of lengthy non-answers to a couple of pretty inane questions."

Maureen nodded and smiled. "That's what I mean. That's a real skill in this game, and one that not everyone has a command of."

Scott's expression darkened. "Yeah, Maureen, I get it. What bugged me a little on the drive home, though, was...well, I saw this on a T-Shirt once, `If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, then baffle them with your bullshit.' I don't know if I want to feel any real pride in an innate ability to bullshit."

Maureen grew serious as well. "Good for you, Scotty. That's a healthy feeling to have. But, let me ask, did you lie?"

"Hell, no!"

"Would you say you were evasive?

"Uhm...I don't know that I'd say that, either."

"And you did say the questions were pretty lame?"

"Well, I thought so. Sort of."

"Well, then your options, it seems to me, were either to say `That's a stupid-ass question,' or to try to tap dance around it, sounding like you were answering it without making any commitments. Sometimes, that's the best you can do. You didn't lie, you didn't even really mislead or evade. Sounds to me like you were being polite. Call it bullshit if you have to, but reactions like that are a necessary evil in this business. The press will always ask the questions. We need that. You do the best you can to respect their role in all of this, but don't sacrifice your priorities in public service or your principles just because a member of the media has asked a question. The public's want to know, their need to know and their right to know are often very different things. Most members of the press corps tend to think they're all one in the same."

Scott mulled it over for a moment, again feeling grateful for the time he got to spend with the woman who had so quickly become his political mentor. After a moment, he asked, "Hey, Maureen, you mentioned the press room. You get in there often?"

She grinned. "Funny you ask. I've kind of shocked the good old boys from the Fourth Estate lately. I make it a point to just drop in their Capitol bullpen about every other week, just to shoot the shit and keep tabs. Murdoch always treated them like the enemy. I'm trying to cultivate a warmer relationship than what they're used to, and some of them don't quite know what to make of it."

"What do you talk about?"

"Oh...the weather, sports, sometimes their families, this or that issue from time to time. Usually, if it's a pressing issue, it's understood that I'm speaking off the record. Most of them are really good guys, and some gals, trying to do an important job. Even if I don't give them anything of substance, I want to signal to them that I honor and respect the role that they play in the process. It's an important one. Plus, it can't hurt for them to warm up and not view me and the others as the enemy, either." She winked.

"What about the pencil-necked guy, Weeden?"

"You were right on the mark earlier. He is a twit, and rarely participates in any of the bull sessions I've had there. I think he's suspicious of the new open access. He's one of those who wants this to be adversarial. Keep in mind, Scotty. One of the best ways to piss off someone who wants to believe that you're the enemy is to show them you're not. It's very disarming, and quietly drives them crazy. It keeps you on the high road, and it's kind of fun knowing that you're confounding them."

Kip opened an e-mail.

"Kip, I love it when you whack my ass while you're fucking me. You're such a fucking stud! I want it again and again. I want you to fuck me hard and long." An attachment showed Andy's torso, with a good sized dildo buried between his butt cheeks. Again, Kip wondered who was taking the pictures, but they turned him on regardless.

"He's not just a fuck-buddy, he's a fuckin' porn buddy," Monmouth muttered as he reached into his gym shorts.

Maureen had been right. The committee hearing wasn't any more pressure-filled than the press conference had been. Shit,' he thought to himself as he walked down State Street after the meeting. This ain't so bad.' She'd said the predictably glowing stuff about him before the committee, and nobody asked her a thing. He'd been tossed a couple of sweetheart questions from one of the members, and he took the opportunity to wax romantic about the treasure that was the University of Wisconsin. The member from Green Bay promptly moved that the committee endorse the nominations to the full Senate, and it was quickly decided on a unanimous vote. Just another hum-drum day in the life of the average legislative committee. A quick hug and a kiss from Maureen before she had to go take care of business, and he was strolling back toward a relatively regular student life.

"Whoa! Check it out! Lookin' good all dressed up in the suit, chief!"

Scott closed the door and looked across the front desk at a smiling Walter Jamieson. "Hey, Walter! Happy New Year!"

"And, you too! Didn't expect you back until tomorrow." As Scott hung up his coat, Walter admired the fine form he presented in his midnight blue suit and yellow `power tie.' "So, why the get-up, Scott?"

"Had to come back early. The confirmation hearing on the Regents appointment was this morning, and I thought I'd stop in and see what the break brought us here at the WSA."

"Cool! So, how'd it go?"

"Piece of cake, actually. I was kinda nervous goin' in, but it was mostly a love fest. Maureen McCarthy was there to hold my hand, if needed, but it was really low-key, almost downright casual. No controversy, I guess. So, the committee endorsed us, and the full Senate will vote during their first floor session in a couple of weeks." Scott loosened his tie. "So, have a good break?"

"Yeah, I did. Plenty of `R and R,' read a couple good books just for fun, saw some old friends, same old, same old. But, yeah, it was nice. Still, it feels good to be back."

Scott leaned on the counter. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I felt the same thing driving back into town yesterday afternoon. The time off was great, but the regular routine around here will be welcomed." He stepped over to the row of mailboxes. "Uh, Walter. My mailbox is empty. Didn't we get mail delivered during the whole break?"

The clerk grinned and pointed toward the stairs. "Hope you don't mind, but I went through it. The stuff on the center of your desk should be handled first, I think. To the right of that is the second-level stuff that should be looked at some time this week, and the pile on the corner is mostly junk."

"Mind? Hell no, I don't mind. Thanks. I'll be upstairs for a couple hours, probably, then heading back to the dorm to see who's back."

"Okay. I'll probably be here `til about four. Holler if you need anything."

An hour into checking the office emails, as well as the snail mail, he picked up the phone and dialed Walter's extension. "Hey, if you got a few minutes, will you bring up two purchase requisitions? And, if you keep a personal calendar, bring it along, too. And, something to make some notes on."

A minute later Walter was in the doorway, forms in hand. "Here ya' go, Scott. Spending some money today, huh?"

"Grab a seat. You'll want to make a list, too, I think. Though, knowing you, you probably don't need to." He began to fill out the University's official paperwork to authorize spending student funds. "So, check your calendar, for March. What're you doing the weekend after spring break?"

Walter paged over to March. "That's what...the twenty-first and twenty-second?"

Scott continued to write, a sly grin on his face. Walter was getting suspicious. "Actually, it's the nineteenth through the twenty-second. We leave on Thursday morning, back on Sunday."

"Huh?"

"National Association of Collegiate Student Governments. Annual conference. San Diego." He handed Walter the conference program. "There's some good shit in here for support staff. Don't know if you're traveling for spring break. But don't unpack your bags when you get back, cuz we're going to fly out for California the following Thursday." Still smiling, he signed the requisitions and slid them across the desk. "Okay, then." He ticked off the list on his fingers. "Will you please: one, book us a flight; two, fill out the registration materials; three, book us a room at the convention center for three nights. Then, check out some of the side-tours and fun stuff they have planned. If there's anything there that floats your boat, include it in the registration fees. Then, will you please fill out the right amounts on the requisition and get them in the mail. I think you can register us on-line, but do a hard copy and mail it, too. Then, you should probably copy the chair of our finance committee so that he's aware of the expense. It's not a problem, cuz it was in my budget when they passed it."

Walter's sat stunned. "I get to go? Are you friggin' serious? I never get to go to these things!"

Scott's smile was wide and dazzling as he leaned back in his chair. "You do now, Radar." He leaned forward and laid his hands on the desk. "You make this place work. I'd be lost; we'd all be fuckin' lost, if you didn't do the work you do. And you do it all without an expectation for any kind of thanks. You have it coming." He pointed at the program. "Besides, a lot of the workshops in there are better suited for support staff of student governments. There's a lot of office-holder, leadership shit in there too, but you're the first person we should send to this each year. It just so happens that I budgeted for two to attend a major conference or convention this year. You're going. That's an order. You are available, aren't you?"

He gasped again. "If I wasn't, I'd sure as hell make myself available. I have some relatives out in San Diego, and have only been there once." He stood up. "I'm all over this, Scott. They'll be in the mail this afternoon." He headed toward the door, then stopped and turned. "And, Scott. Thanks. Thanks a whole lot!"

Scott smiled and nodded, and waved him off as casually as he could.

On Tuesday, Scott slept late, until after 8:00 a.m., but for no particular reason. He wasn't ill, and hadn't been up late partying the night before. Still, it felt good. He grinned into his pillow as he opened his eyes after the sun had risen. That was a first in a long, long time. He put on the coffee before flopping back on his bed. He felt relaxed, and ready to dive into the new term. He decided to go for a run, stop by the Registrar's office to make sure that all the i's were dotted and t's were crossed on the scholarship stuff, and then go to the office for a while before coming back to watch the onslaught of the few hundred who'd be trying to negotiate the halls with their luggage, all at the same time, on their way back from the break.

Two hours later, he was at his president's desk. Walter had said he was taking the day off, and Scott was enjoying the solitude and the relative anonymity of just strolling around Madison without anybody expecting anything of him, let alone even knowing who he was. Having dispensed with most of the mail Walter had organized for him, he spent an hour online reading minutes of old Regents meetings. He'd finished the morning crossword, and was halfway through the cryptoquote when he bell downstairs clanged. He assumed Radar would appear in the door frame any second, until he heard the door to the next office open. Then, could hear the shuffling around in the vice president's office.

In his lighthearted mood, he had to admit it: there was still something about Kip that intrigued him. He didn't trust him, he didn't like him, and yet Kip was still a huge enigma. Attractive, to be sure. Who was he kidding? Kip was hot; just plain fucking hot.

His occasional jokes with Marty about grudge-fucking that guy had been a little less than jokes. They had been downright heartfelt. Well, they'd been felt somewhere, if not in his heart. Scott had never seriously thought that he could, or would ever want to, take another person, man or woman, against their will. Still, the vision worked pretty well as a distant and satisfying fantasy on more than one occasion. Usually in the shower, or late at night, alone in his bed.

On top of that, there was the necessary working relationship. He'd once made the mistake of speaking of it in a terribly crass manner to Marty. He cringed when he heard himself telling his friend I was elected. Kip was elected. You weren't elected." But, the truth remained; they had to at least be able to communicate to a degree that would serve the organization. He could continue to stiff-arm Kip from the important stuff, but to what end?' he asked himself.

Kip wasn't an idiot, by any measure, and probably wouldn't embarrass the organization or the University in any serious way. If nothing, he knew how to cover his own ass by not being a total boob. In fact, he could turn it on and charm some people, when there was something in it for him. Not too long ago, after all, he had rationalized to Maureen that he'd believed that Kip would make a capable member of the Regents. Of course, that had been designed mostly to explain his decision, at the time, to step aside and not pursue the appointment.

He knew that Kip probably still looked down his nose at him. But he thought about it honestly, and could say that he didn't give a shit anymore. He'd won his election, and he was the president. He'd gotten the appointment, and was on his way to smooth confirmation. He and Kelly seemed to be on good terms. Marty was still in his corner. His scholastic career was secure and becoming moreso every day. About the last thing in life Scott Turner needed was the approval of Christopher U. Monmouth, II. The major sources of their past conflicts: the WSA elections, the disk and the Regents appointment, were behind them. And the disk. Fuck' he muttered. I'd been wishing the damned thing never existed in the first place.' He smirked a guilty grin. `But, it was pretty fucking funny.'

He'd also been thinking about stuff that Evelyn had said about living life and dealing with people. Then, he thought, too, about something Maureen had said the other night during dinner. "Best way to piss off the people who want to think you're the enemy is to show them that you're not. Keeps you on the high road and confounds them in the process. It's kinda fun," she'd said.

To top it all off, Scott was in a playful mood. In the past day, he'd had a very good morning at the Capitol, made Radar's day, if not his month, and the guys would be coming back this afternoon. The line from "Risky Business" rang in his head. Tom Cruise's buddy was whispering in his ear. "Every now and then, you just gotta say, `what the fuck?'"

He stuck his nose around the corner of Kip's doorway, and cleared his throat. Kip jumped a bit, and shuffled the mouse around quickly, clicking it.

"Can I come in?"

Kip nodded, "'course." He motioned to the chair. Kip swallowed, and looked a little flustered.

Scott sat down in the chair on the side of Kip's desk. "So...uhm...Happy New Year."

Kip worked to continue appearing preoccupied. "And, you too, Turner." He kept scanning the UW website now on his screen, apparently looking for something. "Just double checking my schedule for the semester. My last one, and I want to be sure those fucked-up dweebs in the scheduling haven't messed anything up. Internet service at the house is down until tomorrow." Scott knew that everybody had had an official and final copy of their second semester schedule in their student email since late November.

Scott was almost shy. "Oh. That sucks. Anyway, you had lunch yet?"

Kip's right brow arched, and his eyes darted toward Scott's face, though his head didn't turn away from the computer screen. "Huh?"

"Lunch." Scott leaned forward and smirked. "You know, most people's second meal of the day? But it'd be my first today. Didn't have anything to eat this morning and I'm fuckin' starved."

Kip let go of the mouse and leaned back. "Uh, no. Haven't had lunch."

"Got any plans?"

He kept the leery expression. "Nope."

Scott slapped his knees and stood. "Then, come on. I'm buying. Me an' you, we're goin' to have lunch. Nothin' fancy, mind you. Mickey D's will have to do."

Kip didn't budge. "What's goin' on, Turner? D'you forget we don't like each other?"

Scott leaned down on the desk and put on his best smile. "No, I didn't forget. But, Kip. A couple weeks back, when we tossed out last year's page-a-day desk calendars, and replaced them with the lame new ones we all got as stocking stuffers, I made a couple of resolutions."

Kip smiled, leaned down, and reached into the backpack sitting next to the file cabinet. He held up the square box. " `A Golf Joke-A-Day,' from my incredibly bitchy sister-in-law." He opened the box and slid out the plastic wrapped stack of square paper sheets. He used a pen to puncture the corner of the tight plastic wrapping.

Scott laughed. Mine is `Chess for Dummies,' from my old man. A move a day, with an explanation on the back of the day's page. Just unwrapped it myself and put in on the desk an hour or so ago." He shifted his weight on the flats of his feet, nervously digging his hands into his pockets. He hated the nervousness. "Anyway, like I was saying, I made a couple of resolutions. And, I'm gonna try and spend more time this year building bridges. I'll admit that I had it in my mind that you ought to be the first challenge of the New Year. I'm not sayin' I want us to be friends. I doubt that's possible, all things considered. But the unspoken push and pull that's constantly at work when we have to deal with each other could maybe go away, if only a little bit. We do have a lot of common ground that poisons our atmosphere." Then he got generous, at least in his mind. "And, I'm not saying it's anybody's fault. It just is what it is."

"But, when we're here," he motioned toward the walls with his hands, "trying to do our jobs, we have plenty of common ground that ought to make us act like big boys. At least we could get on speaking terms, ya' know? It couldn't hurt, and probably only help, if we could at least find a way to be in the room together without feeling the tension, the...well, the borderline nausea."

Kip stood slowly. "Okay, Turner, I'm starved, too. But you're not going to buy. I'll join you, but I'll buy my own lunch, thanks."

"Fair enough. Let's go."

Scott munched on a french fry. "So, why'd you do it?"

Kip looked up from squeezing a ketchup packet out into the top half of his quarter pounder box. "Do what?"

"Bow out of the Regents thing. Really, I mean."

Kip was expressionless. "I told you. You had something I wanted, or you could get it for me, and I had something you wanted. Call it political dealsmanship."

Scott's eyes narrowed and he surveyed him closely. "I just had a gut feeling that there was more to it than that." Kip didn't react. "You know that I wasn't going to ask him for the disk, don't you?" Kip nodded. Marty had made it clear, that night in the computer lab, that Scott hadn't ever brought it up. "I was gonna send both names up and let the governor choose, and maybe catch a little hell for it in the meantime."

"Yeah, I know." Kip bit into his burger, chewed and swallowed. "Ballsy move. Kinda sticking your neck out, don't you think? Andy was pretty confident he'd win with the governor. You'd have been handed a loss in front of the whole WSA, and to me, no less. You'd have put your friend Maureen in a position to maybe oppose her most important supporter up there."

Scott wiped his mouth and shrugged. "Call me a risk-taker."

Kip's eyes narrowed as he surveyed his lunch mate. "So, why'd you do it? Push for the position without getting me the disk?"

"I pushed for the position because I have reason to believe--and please don't ask for the details, not yet anyway--but I have reason to believe that there are going to be issues coming before the Board that I want to have a hand in. Not sure I can make a real difference, but I decided I sure as hell wanted to give it a shot."

"And, on the other part of your question, I didn't push for the disk because it wasn't mine. It was Marty's. For a lot of reasons, I didn't feel right about using our friendship solely for my own benefit. Frankly, I didn't even like the fact that the fucking thing even existed." He paused and weighed the next words on his mind, and thought again `what the fuck?' "But, even you gotta admit, it was pretty fuckin' funny."

Kip's face showed a hint of anger, a hint of shock at the statement. For a while now he'd been wishing he'd destroyed the thing as soon as Marty delivered it. The soreness from the treatment he'd gotten from Chas a couple weeks earlier had long since passed, but the memory had not. The fact that those pictures had found their way into his brother's hands continued to torment him.

Completely unaware of Kip's true predicament, Scott continued. "Aw, c'mon, Kip! Admit it!" He looked around at the other customers, then leaned over the table and spoke in a whisper. "If the roles were reversed--if it'd been you takin' pics of Marty and another guy--you'd be laughing your ass off. Probably checkin' them out every day, and showin' them off to your frat brothers on a regular basis and whooping it up."

Slowly, Kip lost a battle against the grin that was fighting to emerge. `Busted,' his face said. Scott was right, and they both knew it.

They shared a knowing chuckle and both bit into their sandwiches at the same time. It was quiet for a minute as they ate and sipped their sodas. Scott looked up and found Kip scrutinizing him again. "I don't get it."

Scott swallowed and took another sip from his straw. "Get what?"

"You and Anderson. You're so different, but you two are thick as thieves. It doesn't make any sense. He's such a...such a..." Kip struggled for the right noun for his perception of Marty.

Scott finished the sentence. "He's such a hell of a guy, Kip. That's what he is. He's just an all-around great guy. He's goofy. He's carefree and sometimes careless. He's got a heart as big as this room, and a free spirit that I envy. He's funny, he's smart, he's quick witted, he's thoughtful, he's loyal and he's one of the best friends I've ever had or ever will have."

Kip still didn't understand, and his shaking head showed as much.

"C'mon, Kip. Again, I think you know I'm right. Take the disk thing, for example. You might not know it, but that friggin' thing became a big bone of contention between him and me once upon a time"

"Yeah, he told me when I filled him in on the offer I'd made you about the appointment. I'd just assumed he'd come to the computer lab that night to deliver it, but I had to clue him in on our conversation and about my offer of a trade."

"Do you even know the origins of that damned thing? Why he did it in the first place?"

"'Cuz he a mean, vindictive, vengeful, perverted little mother fucker?"

Scott stared him down. "Kip, you don't realize this, but until I declared for WSA, and you and your goons painted a target on my back, even slashed my tires, you were nothing but a bitter memory of Marty's going back to last spring when you screwed him on that marketing project." Kip's eyes went to the table. "Until you started harassing me, you were only a sour blip in his memory bank. It wasn't until I had my tires slashed that he came up with that little scheme to capture you in all your glory like that. He'd have left you alone, and merely hated your guts, until you guys started getting all over my case. In a big way, you motivated him in all of this, by giving me grief."

Kip's eyes narrowed again in obvious skepticism. "So, you're tellin' me he did all this in the first place to cover your back?"

Scott nodded. "Like it or not, that's Marty. And then, he didn't use those pics again until he thought that you were some kind of threat to Kelly. Right? Didn't he put the screws to you after you gave her a hard time at Homecoming, and were doing a number on her through the old rumor mill?"

Again, Kip looked guilty but said nothing, so Scott continued. "That's when you accused me of being behind Marty's actions to get you to make it right for Kelly, and it's when I learned that the fucking thing still existed. I had thought it was gone by then, and I was pissed that he still had it. It's what started our fight."

"Anyway, during our argument, he made it a hundred and ten percent clear that, as far as he was concerned, that disk was none of my fucking business. Plus, I guess I'd gotten okay with the idea that he was using the wrong tool, but only doing the right thing with it. I kinda got warm to his `ends justify the means' take on this...in some situations, anyway. He wasn't just trying to injure you. He wasn't just trying to make you miserable for the sake of making you miserable. He was just trying to right a wrong, to help folks he cared for. So, that's one of the big reasons I didn't bring it up to him after you made me that offer. It had already caused enough trouble between us, and he'd told me it was off limits. I wasn't entitled to ask for it."

Kip popped the last bite of his burger into his mouth and leaned back, thinking but not speaking.

"So, then, last month you talk to Marty, and you spell it out for him: what's in it for me...not him, but for ME...if you get the disk. And, without saying a word to me, but just by knowing that it would help me out, he dishes it over. He doesn't even tell me he's going to do it. He doesn't ask for thanks. He just does it. I'll bet he didn't even give it a second thought."

Kip remembered. "He gave it to me that same night. Jogged back to the dorm while I waited at the library." Scott hadn't known this, but wasn't surprised. Kip was still a bit confounded. "And he didn't even tell you he knew about my deal offer? He didn't say anything about giving up his prized possession?"

Scott arranged the litter from his lunch onto his tray, picked up his paper cup, sucked again on the straw until the cup slurped, and then leaned back. He muted a small burp with the back of his hand, and rested his elbows on the back of the bench seat. His eyes locked onto Kip's. "Nope. Not...one...word. He just did it `cuz he knew it would help out a good friend."

Kip's eyebrows questioned him. "But, shit! If he tells you about it, then you owe him one."

Scott was becoming exasperated, and it showed. He leaned over the table again. "Kip. We already owe each other plenty, without either one of us lifting a finger."

There was another minute of silence as Kip tried to make sense of something that, to him, made absolutely no sense at all.

"You got any friends like that, Kip?"

Several seconds passed as they stared at each other.

"Didn't think so. And I only got one. Like that, anyway."

Kip just sat there. After another minute, he checked his watch. "Uh, look. The guys will be coming back this afternoon, and I gotta get back to the house." He started to grab his tray and rise. He paused. "Uh...thanks for the lunch invite, Turner."

Scott smiled. "Ya' know, Kip, for better or worse, we are still president and vice president, and ought to be able to communicate and work together, at least at some level. Maybe we should do this on a regular basis, just to compare notes on what's going on around campus, inside the WSA, and even at the Regents, once I get up and running with them. Let's face it, we don't exactly share the same perspective on a lot of things, maybe most things, but I think a healthy exchange of views is always a good thing."

Kip thought it over. Again, a rather radical idea as far has he'd ever known, but worth considering. "Yeah, maybe. Let's keep in touch."

They nodded at each other. Kip just walked toward the trashcan, dumped his stuff, and then was out the door.

The devil Scott on his shoulder whispered. "It might be connected to a total dick-head, but that is still one damned hot ass."

Once classes had resumed, one of the first items on Scott's list was to call Bascom Hall and make an appointment to see Ellison Cushing, PhD. He had been asked to return the scholarship's acceptance form in person for a briefing on the details and the expectations on a LaFollette Scholar.

Scott waited in the outer office of Professor Cushing. Gloria, the professor's secretary, was a little less abrupt and distant on this visit, but not by much. She knew that he was the confirmed LaFollette Scholar. She understood and respected status, and now he had some.

He paged through the current issue of Newsweek, and found a single-page item headlined, "Twenty Up and Comers' on the American Political Scene." The introduction summarized the point of the piece. "Politicos on the state or local level who may have the potential to loom large on the national landscape before too long." There it was. Her name in caps and red print, with a small photo along the border of the page. "Number 11: Maureen McCarthy, new Senate Majority Leader in Wisconsin. Moderate/Liberal. Sure bet to be the state's next Attorney General, and perhaps the next Governor. Shrewd, savvy and civil. She gets things done without rancor,' said one local, highly placed source under Madison's capitol dome. Worth the time for political junkies to keep their eyes on. Could be national material in short order. Already gaining attention in Washington."

"Whoa," Scott whispered. He read it again, and felt a shiver of goose bumps tickle him. He read it again. "Damn! That's my Maureen!" He was going to stop at Walgreen's on his way back to the dorm and pick up a couple extra copies.

Gloria's phone buzzed. "Yes Sir? Yes, he's here." She tapped a pencil. "He's been waiting for nearly ten minutes." She hung up the phone just as the door opened.

"Scott! Please come in. A belated Happy New Year to you, son!" Cushing filled most of the doorway, and thrust forward a meaty hand, smiling under the thick lenses of his glasses. He looked tanned after the Christmas holiday, and seemed in a particularly jovial mood. "And let me renew my congratulations on the scholarship. One of the finest choices that committee has ever made!"

Scott nearly ran to meet him. "Professor Cushing. So good of you to see me! Thank you very much, sir, and a Happy New Year to you and yours as well."

Cushing ushered him into the office with an arm over the shoulder. "This shouldn't take long, Scott. In fact, I don't have much more than," he glanced back out through the doorway toward the left.

"Fifteen minutes, at most," Gloria announced with staccato precision.

He chuckled. "Fifteen mintues, at most. I'd be completely lost without her, you know." He closed the door. "Have a seat, Scott. Have you brought the paperwork with you, son?"

Scott opened the envelope. "Yes, sir! All signed, sealed and, now delivered. I took the liberty of stopping at the Registrar's the other day to make sure everything else was in order. I guess once they get this stuff, everything's all set. "

The two men discussed the details of the scholarship terms. Scott needed to retain full-time student status, had to maintain a three-point-five GPA, and had to devote forty hours per semester to community service without pay. "That's something we've added since I came on board here, Scott. `Fighting Bob' had a strong sense of social cohesion running through his sometimes nutty brain. Believed that we owed it to ourselves to owe it to others to give without taking. It's not a huge commitment, and most of the Scholars do considerably more than that. In fact, if you record it right, you could probably count the time on WSA as community service." He paused. "I wouldn't recommend it myself, but it'd fly, I suppose."

"I understand, sir. Shouldn't be a problem. We're only talking about, what, two hours a week or so?"

The professor nodded. "Or, you could count the time with the Regents."

"So, you heard about the appointment? The announcement didn't get a lot of press."

"Heard, schmeard. Of course, I know. I've known for weeks. There's not much Ted Hackett does that I don't know about ahead of time. Some of it he has the sense to run by me before he does it."

Scott smiled demurely. "Well, professor, I guess it's not a real accomplishment, yet. I haven't really done anything but get the invitation and accepted."

"Well, I'm sure you've considered that it's going to leave you with a pretty full plate."

"Yes, sir, I've thought a lot about that, and may have to rethink whether I'm up for another term with the WSA next year. But this is a three-year stint, and the scholarship and degree are also a long-term commitment. I'm going to see how it all goes this semester. If something has to give, it'll probably have to be the Student Senate. I'll decide on that before school starts again in the fall."

"Good thinking, Scott." He checked the clock. "Well, young man," he began to stand, signaling the end of their brief meeting, "things are falling together quite nicely for you." Scott stood and smiled, nodding as they shook hands. Ellison put a hand on his shoulder to lead him toward the door. "Remember though, Scott, even good fortune needs to be attended to. You have to keep on earning it."

"Yes sir, I know. I hope you'll never, or anybody will ever, find me taking anything for granted. I'm a lucky guy, but know I have to continue to deserve it."

The professor patted his back and smiled as he opened the office door. "That's great. I'm sorry you won't be in my class on the vice presidency this term."

"It's on the list for the fall, professor."

"Good, good. I look forward to being able to see your work up close."

Scott walked into the outer office, and leaning against the door to the hallway was Randy Oakes. Randy smiled and waved.

Scott politely tipped his head. "Have a great day, Gloria."

She actually smiled back at him. "Well thank you. And you, too, Mr. Turner."

"Hey." Randy's smile hadn't faded. "Just stopped by, and Gloria said you were in with the old man." He extended his hand and Scott accepted. They exited the office together and slowly strolled down the steps toward the front door. "Wanted to officially congratulate you on the big win, Scott. A LaFollette Scholar, coming out of one of my sections of Cushing's course. That's a first for me."

Scott was a bit uncomfortable once again. Had Randy forgotten about running into him at Maureen's party? Still, he had to confess his gratitude to the teaching assistant. "I owe you a big thanks, Randy. If I'd had another TA, one who wasn't as willing to give me a boost, I might not be here right now. Thanks. Really."

They stopped on the landing, half way down the stairs. "Wwweeellll," Randy's smile was now suggestive, "you don't really owe me, but if you really want to express your gratitude, or simply have a hell of a time, I'm sure we could think of something that would satisfy us both. No teacher-student hang ups standing in our way now."

God. He looked good. He even smelled good. Scott felt an immediate swelling in his khakis as Randy's eyes took him in from head to toe.

"In fact, if you're free, we could go back to my place right now." He leaned a little closer and whispered. "I'll rock your world, Scott. Anything you want."

Scott cleared his throat. "Now's not good, Randy. I've got to meet some folks in, like, ten minutes. And I don't know..."

Randy's anticipation fell. "Not sure? Not now, or not ever?"

Scott just shrugged. He didn't know for sure what he was thinking. There was no small measure of lust coursing through his head, both heads in fact. Part of him wanted this stud naked, sweating, bodies entangled, cocks rubbing, licking and sucking each other, and then some. But there was a nagging apprehension that told him to back off, if only for now.

"I'm just not sure, Randy."

Oakes backed off. "Tell you what. I don't want to push it. You have my number. But, it's probably a limited time offer, you know. I'm finishing my thesis this semester, and then the degree is in the bag. Don't know where I'm going to land this summer. So, I'll leave the ball in your court, Scott. Offer's good for as long as I'm in Madison." He smiled again, this time a genuine, hopeful smile.

Scott sighed. "Thanks, Randy. You know I'll keep it in mind. Probably a lot, like when I'm in the shower." He turned to leave.

"Keep that thought!" Randy said as Scott began to walk away. Scott nodded and flashed a thumbs-up over his shoulder.

Marty smiled when he saw Scott walking down the hall at the Union. He put down the syllabus he'd been reviewing, and thought back to the first class this morning. He and Kip were in the same course again. It was a bit of a surprise seeing him sitting in the room when he walked in. But, it was weird too. No snide remark. Not even a nasty sneer. Just a glance at the start of class. And, he thought he'd caught Kip staring at him a couple times. He felt like he was being appraised, sized up. In a weird way, it reminded him of the first time they'd seen each other in class a year earlier. He resisted the temptation to flip him off or take a verbal shot at him, and instead resolved to do his best to ignore him for the next few months.

Scott reached down and ruffled his hair. "Missed you last night. We all got together in our room for a little warm up for the new semester. Nothing major, just a bit of partying and catchin' up."

"Yeah, we made dinner over at Jill's, and I didn't come back `til Ash' went to bed."

Scott nodded. "We talked a little about the apartment idea. Sounds like Frank and Jesse are moving off campus, too. It'd be cool if we could get into the same building or the same house, sort of an upstairs, downstairs kinda thing." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Marty smiled and stood, grabbing his backpack. "But, you know Jesse's always on the bottom, right?"

They walked through the cafeteria line and found an empty table.

Marty leaned over his food. "So, how'd it go with Kel' after you guys left our place?"

Scott shrugged. "She's cool." He pictured her leaning back in his arms bouncing up and down on his rod. "In fact she's waaaay cool." He giggled. After the swearing in thing at the Capitol, and Maureen's little reception, she started blowing me in the car."

"No fucking way!"

"Big fucking way. So, after dodging a bullet from a nosey security guy, we took it back to her house and fucked like monkeys for about an hour."

Marty shook his head and beamed his admiration at his friend. "You dawg! You fuckin' dawg. Jill doesn't much like to give head. She will, a little, but obviously doesn't really get into it."

Scott leaned over and whispered. "Good to know that. I'm gonna start makin' you beg for it."

Marty kicked him under the table.

The guys slowly ate, and reviewed their time spent between New Year's Day and today's lunch. Scott didn't recap last Sunday's conversation with Evelyn, but he replayed the press conference and the hearing, and said the Senate was due to vote in a couple weeks. Meantime, he had an organizational dinner meeting with the Regents late in the next week, and was anxious to get the ball rolling there.

Marty talked about his quality time with Shelly, Jill and Ashley, and voiced his hope that everything would be over and done with Dan by the time spring break rolled around.

After his last morning class, Kip returned to the house looking, to anyone who noticed as he walked in, very flustered. It's my last freaking semester here,' he thought. Why the fuck do I have to spend two hours a week looking at that fucking Marty Anderson?'

He slammed the door to his room and tossed the backpack on his bed. He toed off his shoes and kicked them to the side, and then propped an elbow on each knee, stroking his fingers through his hair. He only had one more class today, but that gave him almost three hours to sit and stew. He got up and sat in front of his computer. He opened his inbox. There was another message from Andy.

"Kip,

"Cumming back to MadTown a week from tomorrow. First meeting with the new Board. Staying at the Concourse, as always. What do ya' say? Same place, same time?

"I love the taste of your cock, and the juicy precum that flows from you. You are a fucking stud, but I'm sure you know that.

"I can still feel and taste your firm nipples between my lips from the last time we got naked and fucked our brains out! I want to plow your ass from behind, while I wrap an arm around you and squeeze and stroke your pulsing meat.

"You won't be disappointed, I'm sure.

"Till then, when we make each other moan,

"Andy."

He clicked "Save to Folder," and placed it in his "Pennington" file.

Then, he lay down on his bed and unbuckled his belt.

Author's Notes: HELP WANTED: I need to hear from any of you who are computer geeks, or whatever the politically correct term is for the techno-wizards out there. I'm particularly in need to hear from somebody who can speak to computer viruses and the like. No, I'm not planning any techno-terrorism of my own, but one of our characters is. Not to worry, it's small-scale stuff. Let me know, gang. Can you help?

Big thanks to Kory, Peter and Ted, my steady friends and allies in putting this together.

As always, the readers' comments on the continuing saga are welcomed at scotty.13411@hotmail.com I always appreciate the feedback!!