The Protagonist System
345 Coming Together Part Four

Waking up at the break of dawn with two pretty girls cuddling me was the best way to start the day. One would have been enough, just like it had been for the last week, except Tara thought she needed help keeping me satisfied. It would have been funny if she hadn't been so serious about it when she discussed it with Bonnie.

I couldn't in good conscience ignore her feelings or dismiss them as unimportant. When I felt an impending bathroom visit approaching, it didn't take me long to slip out from between them and leave the bed to go to the bathroom befoe that feeling became urgent.

It wasn't a surprise to me when the two girls unconsciously slid closer and started cuddling each other. Even when asleep, the both of them showed how needy they were to have someone to do that with, even if a certain dark skinned Queen Bee would never admit that out loud.

I had a shower and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt before I went downstairs to the garage and chose the far corner to set up a work area. I was up really early today, which was unlike my usual schedule, just so I could start working on the motorcycle commission I was hired for. I had plenty of different vehicles in my inventory, including Merle's motorcycle from the Walking Dead universe, and chose that as a template.

I copied it and stored the original, then I started pulling it apart to get at the internals and to start enchanting it and to tinker with it to make it fuel efficient, lighter, stronger, more powerful, safer, and all the bells and whistles I could think of. I even added a few wards and protections, including a minor energy shield to deflect anything trying to damage it, like gravel from another vehicle's tires.

Since I had the thing nearly stripped completely, there were parts spread all over my chosen work area, as well as a few extras I used as examples to copy, including my own modified motorcycle off to the side. When I felt someone approaching the garage, I picked up part of the engine and pretended to use a screwdriver to adjust the cylinder heads.

“I see that my wife has underestimated you slightly.” Mr. King said when he entered the garage and sipped on his coffee travel mug.

I lifted my gaze from the engine part and smiled. “I never said who built my custom ride, sir. She just assumed I had to hire someone else to do it.”

Mr. King smiled and saluted me with his mug. “I'll keep it a secret if you wish.”

I shrugged and went back to work. “I'll be doing a lot of things like this after they deliver my hoverjet to the secondary hangar back at the base.”

“A hoverjet.” Mr. King said, his face blank.

“Yes, sir. I'm not allowed to buy one, since that's illegal. Government restrictions, you know.” I said and he nodded. “But, I know a few villains have their own types of transport that uses similar technology, so why wouldn't I try to gain access to some myself to try and counter their advantage?”

Mr. King smiled. “A method to the madness? I see, I see.”

“They are so used to getting away after our encounters that it should shock them when I actually chase them when they try to flee.” I explained and he nodded. “I expect they'll catch on quickly to that tactic and will try to come up with some other way to escape; but, until then, I'll use it to the best advantage.”

“After modifying it, of course.” Mr. King said and took another drink of coffee.

“Of course.” I said and put the engine part down to look at him again. “The biggest thing I'll be adding are stabilizers, like these.” I said and picked up a weirdly shaped part that I had tinkered up in only a few seconds.

“What does it do?” Mr. King asked, curiously.

“It's an orientation device. When installed, it stops anything from knocking it off center for long and returns to its normal position.” I said and set it down on its end and poked it. It weebled and wobbled for a second and then stood up straight again. “It works best on two wheeled vehicles to keep them balanced. You still need to use a kickstand when parked, since without power, they are much less effective.”

Mr. King watched as I slapped it and it fell over and stayed there.

“Once it's mounted and charged up, you don't have to worry about the vehicle toppling over.” I said and set the part aside and it easily stood by itself.

Mr. King stared at it for several seconds. “How many tech patents do you have?”

“Patents?” I asked and looked back over at him.

Mr. King took a breath and let it out. “Son, you're a millionaire and I suspect soon to be a billionaire. If you patented even half of what I'm seeing in front of me, since I don't recognize most of that...” He waved at the spread parts. “...you'll double it by licensing the patents to manufacturing companies or triple it by producing them yourself and selling them, less overhead costs.”

“As parts and not full vehicles?” I asked and he nodded.

“You're not responsible for how people use your products. If companies were, there would be nothing produced or sold anywhere, just because they wouldn't want the liability.” Mr. King said and chuckled. “Because you know there's going to be some idiot out there that's going to use it in a way that was not intended by either the creator or the manufacturer.”

I chuckled, too. “That's true.”

Mr. King walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I know someone that can help you with things like that.” He said and I lost the smile. “No, no. I mean as an adviser and only as an adviser. They won't be in control of anything like your finances or business decisions and will only tell you how stupid some of them will be.”

“Not all of them?” I asked, just to see if he would respond.

“It wouldn't be politic or polite to say that all of your ideas are stupid if they want to keep their job for more than a day.” Mr. King said with a grin.

I chuckled again. “Yes sir, that's a good point.”

“I'll bring them to the house tonight for supper and you can evaluate them for yourself.” Mr. King said and walked by me and hit the garage remote on his keys to go out into the driveway where his jaguar was parked.

“Have a good day at work, sir.” I said and waved before picking up a bundle of wires and started sorting them out and marking where they had to go.

The man nodded and entered his car, which started with a louder rumbling than the BMW. He pulled out of the driveway with a short squeal of tires and the garage door closed as he drove away.

I went back to work and used transfiguration liberally to make proper mounts for everything while also giving the motorcycle a sleeker look than a normal Harley Davidson. I had to make the style a combination of that and the sporty car I just saw, so it had to be altered enough to fit the look.

I worked until just before my scheduled wake-up time and looked at the mess. It wasn't near the BMW and my motorcycle was tucked over by the wall, so I decided to leave it there and went inside to have another shower.

“Good morning, Mrs. K.” I said as I entered the kitchen and saw her leaning against the counter and sipping her first cup of coffee. She wore a sheer see-through negligee and no panties, so she was pretty much naked. Her hair was slightly messy as well and I could smell her arousal.

As I had been checking her out, she had been doing the same with me. I was quite a mess from working on the motorcycle and my tight t-shirt had many finger marks of grease and oil on it. Why was that, you ask? It was the closest rag I had access to. Any mechanic you talked to will tell you the same thing, which was why they usually wore throwaway clothes when they worked.

Apparently, Tara's mother liked seeing proof that I was a capable man. “Morning.” She responded and smiled warmly at me. “You're up early.”

I smiled back and walked across the kitchen. “I'm always up early. I just usually stay in bed until a more appropriate time.”

Tara's mom gave me a knowing look. “You tailored your schedule to keep Tara happy?”

I tapped the tip of my nose with my finger and smeared grease on it, which made her laugh. “I'll be back down in a few minutes to start breakfast.”

Tara's mom beamed a smile at me and I left the kitchen and went up the stairs to the spare bedroom and into the bathroom. After another round of cleaning and spells to erase the proof I was working on something, I dressed in one of the nice outfits Tara had picked out for me to wear to school.

I left the guest room and knocked on Tara's door, waking both her and Bonnie up. I didn't speak and went back down the stairs to the kitchen to make breakfast. Tara's mom had sat at the kitchen table with her second cup and nodded at the refrigerator. I opened it and saw an entire flat of eggs and looked back at her smug face.

“Two servings of Eggs Benedict coming right up.” I said and proceeded to do just that. I was sure she didn't actually want to eat it, she just wanted proof that I could do what I boasted about the day before. Despite the Beef Wellington coming out perfectly, that was only one meal and didn't prove that I was actually a good cook.

The first thing I did was set a pile of eggs up to poach them and then melted some butter for the Hollandaise sauce, which needed more eggs to make enough. I sliced the traditional English muffins in half and toasted them on a spare stove burner to give them a genuine toasted flavor and not one from a toaster.

That choice seemed to surprise Tara's mom and she watched as I worked and actually cooked the real meal, not skipping any steps or cheating. Even with the bacon I cooked, I had used a second smaller frying pan on top to hold the bacon down to keep it flat as it cooked to the cusp of crispiness.

I sliced up some fresh tomatoes as the eggs finished poaching and put them on the side of the plate as a garnish, just in case they didn't like tomatoes on them. I assembled everything onto four plates just as Bonnie and Tara came down the stairs and entered the kitchen. I dribbled the Hollandaise sauce over them and sprinkled some parsley over it, then served each of them a plate.

Bonnie looked shocked, Tara looked normal, and her mom looked quite pleased.

“Enjoy.” I said and sat down myself and started eating. It was delicious and worth the extra effort to make fresh sauce and not use the bottle in the fridge.

Tara's mom made an appreciative sound when she tasted it.

Tara sat down and pulled Bonnie into the seat beside her. “Eat or we're going to be late.”

Bonnie shook herself out of her stunned state and dug into the well prepared meal, gasped when she tasted it, and stared at me. I just smirked at her and kept eating. I was eating faster and would finish well before anyone else, that way I could clean up without making them wait or having to help.

I finished eating as Bonnie just started in on the second half of hers and I went to the counter and stove to clean up. This part I cheated on a little, just because there was so much to clean up. There wasn't enough of the Hollandaise sauce left to bother saving, so it was tossed out with the grease and water from the poached eggs.

I wiped everything down after clearing the dishes from the table and Tara's mom looked like she was fighting to not jump me. Tara saved me by reminding her she had to drive us today, since it was cheer practice. That had her mom move and she left to change and dress in an appropriate outfit.

“I have to take my motorcycle.” I reminded her.

“I know.” Tara said and gave me a quick kiss. “Try to not be too long after school, okay?”

“I'll be back by suppertime.” I promised. “See you in first class.”

Tara took Bonnie's hand and led her out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to grab their school things. I took the opportunity to hoof it out of there and into the garage. I grabbed my motorcycle and hit the button for the garage door, put on my helmet, and drove out just as Tara's mom entered the garage. I beeped my horn at her and poured on the speed as I tore down the street.

*

Middleton was part of the Tri-State area, which was quite close to another location called Danville. They hardly had any interaction, as their livelihoods never really crossed in any significant way. That didn't stop some organizations from crossing that invisible line and approaching certain individuals about working with them.

That was how it came to be that Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz had been hired as a secret psychologist for agents unable to handle the changes to their lives that active service caused them. The man himself was quite eccentric, like all good mad scientists, and he kept his behavior well within the set boundaries that the Global Justice Network had set into place for him.

Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz heard the buzzer for the door lock and held in his chuckle. It had been an affectation he insisted be installed in the temporary office that he only occupied when it was necessary to meet with secret agents or their contemporaries. It both made them feel safe and also contained, so they knew in their minds that they could speak and no one else would hear them.

A very pretty young woman opened the secured door. “Doctor? Your three o'clock appointment is here.”

Heinz bared all of his teeth at her in what could charitably be called a smile. “Excellent! Show him in, please. I've been wanting to meet Mr. Stoppable for quite some time.”

The young woman smiled back at him and stepped back before she ushered in a fairly tall and quite muscular young man. She patted his shoulder in reassurance and shut the door. The young man visibly relaxed when the door buzzed and several physical locks clicked into place.

“Welcome, welcome.” Heinz said and stood to take the young man's hand and shook it several times. “Have a seat and we can get right to it.”

Ron looked a little afraid after hearing that and sat down on the offered chair.

“There's no need to feel nervous, Mr. Stoppable. We're both professionals, after all.” Heinz said with a manic look on his face.

Ron wasn't sure that was true at all and Heinz laughed at the look on his face.

“I'll start us off then, shall I?” Heinz asked and took out one of the cell phones released to the public. “I've already ripped this apart and used the components for several other things.” He said and quick as a flash, had it apart and started poking the main microchip with a mini-screwdriver. “This is an ingenious use of such a powerful processor. How in the world did you come up with the programming to handle it all?”

Ron's expression changed to show an actual smile and started explaining it all to someone that he knew would understand, as well as saying it was all patent pending and he would be licensing it out or producing the parts and selling those instead.

Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz hid his manic laugh at drawing the young man out of his guarded shell and kept talking about what he wanted to talk about, instead of what he thought he was there for. It was a trick that most psychologists used to make a patient feel at ease, instead of diving right into their main problems.

It also worked. The two of them spent the entire session talking about the applications of the technology and how the surprisingly simple cell phone was going to revolutionize the entire tech industry.

Ron left the office with a huge smile on his face, several bank drafts for various computer parts, and someone that he could talk to that wasn't going to pressure him into spilling everything about his feelings. Heinz was going to let him talk about things at his own pace and Ron really appreciated that, and told him so.

The both of them were happy at the first successful meeting and looked forward to the next one.