Confounded Hankering: Chapter 4
Title: Only the Lonely
Author(s): Me
Pairing: Clay Bailey x Johnny Betty Pecos (male x female pairing)
Raitng: PG 13 for mild groping and strong language
Summary: Clay starts to lose control of himself around a certain Texas lady
“ . . . and furthermore, any more squabbling of this sort will have you both on disciplinary training! Do I make myself clear?” Master Fung said sternly, looking down at Kimiko and Raimundo. Dojo was wrapped around his shoulders.
The Wind Dragon’s hair was still smoking from various singe marks.
The Fire Dragon’s hair looked as though it had gone through a wind tunnel.
They very pointedly did not look at each other.
“Yes, Master Fung,” they grumbled in unison.
“Very well. Now; you say this all began over something Clay said. Where is Clay?”
Finally, Wind and Fire exchanged a look.
“We don’t know,” Rai admitted. “He and Omi said they were going to see you.”
“They haven’t come through here,” Dojo said. “We would have noticed.”
“Omi has a habit of doing things in the heat of the moment,” Master Fung said. “But if Clay is with him, I’m sure the cooler head will prevail.”
“You got all th’ manners of a diseased hog!”
“And the brain that is not in your skull but is in your pants has washed over you!" Omi retorted.
There was a pause while Clay worked out the yellow-skinned monk’s meaning.
“We’re not gonna turn her t’ th’ Xiaolin side with you slobbering on yerself and pawin’ at whatever skin you can reach!” The Dragon of Earth bellowed.
Master Fung frowned at the raised voices and strode towards the sound of the fighting teammates. Raimundo and Kimiko exchanged a look and hurried after their teacher.
“Why are you so insistent that no one take her up on the offer she so readily makes?” Omi asked, thrusting a finger at Clay.
“Offer? What offer?” the normally good natured cowboy demanded.
“She dresses in the manner of a common street sweeper! Obviously she wishes for companionship!”
“Street sweeper?” Clay echoed.
“I think he means ‘streetwalker’,” Kimiko said. “And judging by that, I’m guessing you guys are talking about Johnny Betty.”
“Burn!” Raimundo declared.
“She - she does NOT!” Clay howled, turning red.
“Okay, smart guy, what does she dress like?” Raimundo challenged.
Clay floundered for a moment, then rallied.
“She dresses like a model!” He insisted.
“A model streetwalker,” Kim muttered.
“That is enough,” Fung said quietly. “Omi, Clay, where did the two of you disappear to?”
Earth and Water fell silent, both studying their respective footwear.
“Omi?” The teaching monk prompted.
“Um . . . . we went to the Land of Nowhere, Master Fung,” Omi admitted in a small voice.
“I see. And why did you do this particularly foolish thing?” Fung asked.
“We . . . ah . . . we went t’ find Johnny Betty,” Clay blurted. “We were tryin’ t’ talk her int’ joinin’ th’ Xiaolin side.” The big cowboy suddenly frowned and glared at Omi. “She woulda come with us if somebody hadn’t scared her off with his pawin’ an’ droolin’!”
“You were the one who removed her trousers!” Omi pointed out.
All eyebrows shot for the ceiling.
“They were on fire!” Clay retorted. “I only took ‘em off t’ keep her from bein’ et by killer brambles! You were th’ one who forgot how t’ use his element t’ ice up her burned leg!”
“Oh yes? If you had seen what I saw through those sheer, lacy under things, I would have liked to seen how easily you could have become like stone!”
Rai broke up the shouting match by guffawing rudely at Omi’s inadvertent double entendre. Clay blushed hotly.
“Omi, Clay! That is enough!” Fung snapped. “While I look forward to hearing about your trip into the Land of Nowhere in minute detail, right now I would like to speak with Clay in private. Follow me, young Dragon of the Earth.”
The teaching monk turned and walked back into his office, expecting Clay to follow him without protest. The big cowboy did so.
“Oooo, Clay’s in trouble,” Rai snickered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“And since Chase has the market cornered on ancient warrior’s turned into jungle cats, I thought: What about ferocious jungle cat robots? Ingenius, n’cest pas?”
“Yep.”
“So! I just need to reconfigure the walking program to deal with four legs instead of two and voila: The Jack Spicer trademarked war beast robots! Patent pending,” Jack added.
“Cool.”
“Of course, it not just walking, it’s running and pouncing and slashing with the claws . . . . we might need a while to beta this,” Jack continued.
“Mercy.”
Stretching, Jack looked up from his half-finished tactical warbot to where his bodyguard sat at a tiny corner of his workbench, a pair of glasses perched on her nose and an expanse of leather under her hands.
“You haven’t heard a word of this, have you?”
“Nope, I stopped listening hours ago,” JB answered.
Jack snorted softly and rubbed his neck again.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said, walking over to take a look at his bodyguard’s newest project.
“I don’t; these are those special magnifyin’ kind you get at craft stores for really tiny work,” JB said, pushing said glasses up on her forehead and rubbing her eyes.
Jack took the opportunity to look over her shoulder.
Johnny Betty had a boot on her lap. She had drawn a rough sketch on the well-worn leather that covered the calf and was now carefully stitching tiny, tiny glass beads over the designs.
“Hmmm. Damn, you’ve got some big boots,” Jack muttered.
JB paused and sighed.
“Yes, Jack, I wear a men’s size thirteen,” she sighed.
“Men’s size thirteen?” The albino took a quick look at JB’s feet. One propped-up cowboy boot proudly bore the emblem ‘9’ on the sole.
“So who’s boots are those?”
“Somebody else’s.”
“A maaaaaan’s?” Jack cooed.
“Maybe,” Johnny Betty conceded, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth.
“OOooooo! Is he cute? Do I know him? Does he have a nice ass? How’d you get his boots? Is he hung like a horse?” Jack settled in a nearby chair for the closest thing he got to girl talk when Matty wasn’t around.
“Yes, very. No. Yes. When he saw me out huntin’ with no shoes on he gave me th’ boots right off his own feet an’ I don’t know yet, but I got high hopes.” JB flipped her glasses back down and went to work on the boots.
“He gave you his shoes when he saw you didn’t have any? Damn, that’s sweet. What’s his name?”
For a second, JB hesitated.
“I ain’t tellin’ you,” she said.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
“If I don’t know him, what’s the harm in telling me his name?” he challenged, proving he wasn’t as much of a spazz as everyone thought.
“You might meet ‘im, and then I’d prefer you not makin’ an ass of yourself and me in th’ process,” JB lied easily. In truth, she didn’t know how Jack and, by extension, Chase would deal with her falling in love with a good guy.
Jack stared at her for a long, long time.
Johnny Betty ignored him and continued her beading.
“Well,” the tech wizard sighed after a long time. “He must be pretty special if you’re going to all that time and effort to decorate his boots.”
“He is,” JB confirmed.
“He must be flattered, all that fine needle-work going to waste on his footwear.”
“He don’t know I’m doin’ it,” the dark haired girl said, not pausing for a second.
“He doesn’t know?!” Jack said in shock. “Shit, JB, just this morning you were talking about not having any romantic prospects and now you’re beading some dude’s moccasins like a good little squaw? Did you fall in love today or something?!”
Johnny Betty lurched to her feet, dropping the boot onto the floor. She reached over and grabbed Jack’s T-shirt in one fist and hauled him up on his feet.
“Do NOT EVER call me that again!” She roared. The intimidation factor was dampened only slightly be the fact that she still wore her magnifying glasses.
“C-c-c-call you what? A squaw? Isn’t that what you call an Indian woman?” Jack stammered.
“Only if you refer to all white women as cunts!” JB spat, releasing her hold on Jack’s shirt.
The tech genius collapsed back into his chair.
“That’s what it means? Damn! Well, now I’ve got another way to push your buttons,” He chuckled wickedly.
Johnny Betty ignored him, gathering up her boot and beads with as much dignity as she could muster.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When Clay emerged from Master Fung’s office, the irritated, frustrated warrior that had entered was gone. If anything, the Dragon of the Earth looked like he has seen a ghost. The Texan wandered out towards the courtyard like he was in a daze.
Raimundo was sprawled out in a sunny room, playing video games on the hand-held game system Kimiko had given him for his birthday. When a large shadow crossed the doorway leading into the courtyard, Rai looked up just in time to see Clay’s back disappearing behind the other door jam.
The Wind Dragon paused his game and ran after his friend.
“Dude! Did Master Fung totally ream you or what?” He called.
Clay didn’t answer, just kept lurching forward in a stiff-legged gait reminiscent of a zombie. . . . or, given Clay’s size, Frankenstein’s monster.
“Dude?” Rai quickly caught up to the Earth Dragon and got a good look at his face. The Brazilian paused and let Clay continue on in his lurching, hobbling gait. The big Texan made his way to one of his favorite spots; the temple gardens. Clay leaned back against the trunk of an old pear tree and let his legs slide forward until his butt thumped against the ground.
Then he simply stared off into the distance.
“What’s up with Clay?” Kimiko asked, coming up behind Rai. “Don’t tell me he’s pouting because Master Fung chewed him out.”
“I don’t think so,” Raimundo said. “I think something’s really wrong.”
“He’d better not be mooning over that redskin skank,” Kim snorted.
Raimundo blinked and looked over at the Japanese girl.
“Y’know, my grandfather’s an Aztec.”
“I though the Aztecs all died off hundreds of years ago,” Kimiko said, returning Raimundo’s sidelong look.
“The civilization died out; the people are still around,” Rai corrected.
“Whatever; I’m going to grab the Manchurian Musca and listen in on Omi’s turn to get reamed.” This said, the Dragon of Fire went back into the temple.
Across the courtyard, the pear tree started to shed leaves like it was autumn. A few half-grown pears thumped to the grass, which started to acquire brown patches. The Earth Dragon’s depression was spreading to his native element. Rai sighed. He’d better do something before Clay’s funk wiped out the gardens.
The Dragon of Wind crossed the courtyard and sat next to his friend under the ailing pear tree.
“You look like hell,” he said without preamble.
Clay didn’t answer, just kept staring straight ahead.
“I know you’re not sulking ‘cause Master Fung yelled at you. What’s the matter?”
Again, no answer.
Rai pulled his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms on them.
“ . . . . so . . . maybe it’s Johnny Betty. Don’t tell me you actually fell in love with her?”
“mmm . . . ah’on’t think so,” Clay muttered hoarsely.
“Oh . . . kay,” Rai said. “That kinda ran through my list of things that could be wrong. You want to throw me a bone here?”
Clay gave a sigh that seemed to come from his toes.
“We’re monks.”
“Uh . . . . yeah? You just figured that out?”
The big Texan stared off across the vegetable plot that was even now starting to wilt under weight of his feelings.
“Monks . . . vow of celibacy . . .”
“Oh please! Don’t tell me you’re letting that get you down! You know me an’ Kim sneak off for a little somethin’ somethin’ on a regular basis. Dude, if you’re horny, next time ditch Omi and you can go knock boots with your little . . . . your big Amazon booty,” Raimundo snorted.
“Shut up, you dumbass,” Clay growled softly.
Rai was too shocked by the fact that that Clay had just said a bad word, much less had just called him a bad word to protest.
“Sex ain’t th’ problem. Children are th’ problem.”
“Holy shit, you got her pregnant?! Damn, that was quick! Nice!” Rai cried, punching the larger monk on the shoulder.
“I didn’t get ‘er pregnant, Rai!” Clay cried. “That’s the problem! Wait, no, that ain’t the problem! I mean . . . . we ain’t even gone that far yet!”
“Yet?”
“Shut up! I have t’ carry on the Bailey family name! Jessie can’t do it ‘cause she’ll take her husband’s name! If’n the Bailey family is gonna stay th’ Bailey family, I have t’ have children! Do you understand, now?” Clay demanded.
The Dragon of the Wind stared at his teammate for a few minutes.
“Dude, you’re worrying about that now?” Raimundo rolled his eyes and lurched to his feet. “Clay, do yourself a favor: go get laid, cheer up and stop killing the garden!”
The Shoku leader strode back across the courtyard.
Clay watched him go sadly.
“I have t’ have children,” he repeated to himself. “Which means I can’t stay here.”
Author(s): Me
Pairing: Clay Bailey x Johnny Betty Pecos (male x female pairing)
Raitng: PG 13 for mild groping and strong language
Summary: Clay starts to lose control of himself around a certain Texas lady
“ . . . and furthermore, any more squabbling of this sort will have you both on disciplinary training! Do I make myself clear?” Master Fung said sternly, looking down at Kimiko and Raimundo. Dojo was wrapped around his shoulders.
The Wind Dragon’s hair was still smoking from various singe marks.
The Fire Dragon’s hair looked as though it had gone through a wind tunnel.
They very pointedly did not look at each other.
“Yes, Master Fung,” they grumbled in unison.
“Very well. Now; you say this all began over something Clay said. Where is Clay?”
Finally, Wind and Fire exchanged a look.
“We don’t know,” Rai admitted. “He and Omi said they were going to see you.”
“They haven’t come through here,” Dojo said. “We would have noticed.”
“Omi has a habit of doing things in the heat of the moment,” Master Fung said. “But if Clay is with him, I’m sure the cooler head will prevail.”
“You got all th’ manners of a diseased hog!”
“And the brain that is not in your skull but is in your pants has washed over you!" Omi retorted.
There was a pause while Clay worked out the yellow-skinned monk’s meaning.
“We’re not gonna turn her t’ th’ Xiaolin side with you slobbering on yerself and pawin’ at whatever skin you can reach!” The Dragon of Earth bellowed.
Master Fung frowned at the raised voices and strode towards the sound of the fighting teammates. Raimundo and Kimiko exchanged a look and hurried after their teacher.
“Why are you so insistent that no one take her up on the offer she so readily makes?” Omi asked, thrusting a finger at Clay.
“Offer? What offer?” the normally good natured cowboy demanded.
“She dresses in the manner of a common street sweeper! Obviously she wishes for companionship!”
“Street sweeper?” Clay echoed.
“I think he means ‘streetwalker’,” Kimiko said. “And judging by that, I’m guessing you guys are talking about Johnny Betty.”
“Burn!” Raimundo declared.
“She - she does NOT!” Clay howled, turning red.
“Okay, smart guy, what does she dress like?” Raimundo challenged.
Clay floundered for a moment, then rallied.
“She dresses like a model!” He insisted.
“A model streetwalker,” Kim muttered.
“That is enough,” Fung said quietly. “Omi, Clay, where did the two of you disappear to?”
Earth and Water fell silent, both studying their respective footwear.
“Omi?” The teaching monk prompted.
“Um . . . . we went to the Land of Nowhere, Master Fung,” Omi admitted in a small voice.
“I see. And why did you do this particularly foolish thing?” Fung asked.
“We . . . ah . . . we went t’ find Johnny Betty,” Clay blurted. “We were tryin’ t’ talk her int’ joinin’ th’ Xiaolin side.” The big cowboy suddenly frowned and glared at Omi. “She woulda come with us if somebody hadn’t scared her off with his pawin’ an’ droolin’!”
“You were the one who removed her trousers!” Omi pointed out.
All eyebrows shot for the ceiling.
“They were on fire!” Clay retorted. “I only took ‘em off t’ keep her from bein’ et by killer brambles! You were th’ one who forgot how t’ use his element t’ ice up her burned leg!”
“Oh yes? If you had seen what I saw through those sheer, lacy under things, I would have liked to seen how easily you could have become like stone!”
Rai broke up the shouting match by guffawing rudely at Omi’s inadvertent double entendre. Clay blushed hotly.
“Omi, Clay! That is enough!” Fung snapped. “While I look forward to hearing about your trip into the Land of Nowhere in minute detail, right now I would like to speak with Clay in private. Follow me, young Dragon of the Earth.”
The teaching monk turned and walked back into his office, expecting Clay to follow him without protest. The big cowboy did so.
“Oooo, Clay’s in trouble,” Rai snickered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“And since Chase has the market cornered on ancient warrior’s turned into jungle cats, I thought: What about ferocious jungle cat robots? Ingenius, n’cest pas?”
“Yep.”
“So! I just need to reconfigure the walking program to deal with four legs instead of two and voila: The Jack Spicer trademarked war beast robots! Patent pending,” Jack added.
“Cool.”
“Of course, it not just walking, it’s running and pouncing and slashing with the claws . . . . we might need a while to beta this,” Jack continued.
“Mercy.”
Stretching, Jack looked up from his half-finished tactical warbot to where his bodyguard sat at a tiny corner of his workbench, a pair of glasses perched on her nose and an expanse of leather under her hands.
“You haven’t heard a word of this, have you?”
“Nope, I stopped listening hours ago,” JB answered.
Jack snorted softly and rubbed his neck again.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said, walking over to take a look at his bodyguard’s newest project.
“I don’t; these are those special magnifyin’ kind you get at craft stores for really tiny work,” JB said, pushing said glasses up on her forehead and rubbing her eyes.
Jack took the opportunity to look over her shoulder.
Johnny Betty had a boot on her lap. She had drawn a rough sketch on the well-worn leather that covered the calf and was now carefully stitching tiny, tiny glass beads over the designs.
“Hmmm. Damn, you’ve got some big boots,” Jack muttered.
JB paused and sighed.
“Yes, Jack, I wear a men’s size thirteen,” she sighed.
“Men’s size thirteen?” The albino took a quick look at JB’s feet. One propped-up cowboy boot proudly bore the emblem ‘9’ on the sole.
“So who’s boots are those?”
“Somebody else’s.”
“A maaaaaan’s?” Jack cooed.
“Maybe,” Johnny Betty conceded, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth.
“OOooooo! Is he cute? Do I know him? Does he have a nice ass? How’d you get his boots? Is he hung like a horse?” Jack settled in a nearby chair for the closest thing he got to girl talk when Matty wasn’t around.
“Yes, very. No. Yes. When he saw me out huntin’ with no shoes on he gave me th’ boots right off his own feet an’ I don’t know yet, but I got high hopes.” JB flipped her glasses back down and went to work on the boots.
“He gave you his shoes when he saw you didn’t have any? Damn, that’s sweet. What’s his name?”
For a second, JB hesitated.
“I ain’t tellin’ you,” she said.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
“If I don’t know him, what’s the harm in telling me his name?” he challenged, proving he wasn’t as much of a spazz as everyone thought.
“You might meet ‘im, and then I’d prefer you not makin’ an ass of yourself and me in th’ process,” JB lied easily. In truth, she didn’t know how Jack and, by extension, Chase would deal with her falling in love with a good guy.
Jack stared at her for a long, long time.
Johnny Betty ignored him and continued her beading.
“Well,” the tech wizard sighed after a long time. “He must be pretty special if you’re going to all that time and effort to decorate his boots.”
“He is,” JB confirmed.
“He must be flattered, all that fine needle-work going to waste on his footwear.”
“He don’t know I’m doin’ it,” the dark haired girl said, not pausing for a second.
“He doesn’t know?!” Jack said in shock. “Shit, JB, just this morning you were talking about not having any romantic prospects and now you’re beading some dude’s moccasins like a good little squaw? Did you fall in love today or something?!”
Johnny Betty lurched to her feet, dropping the boot onto the floor. She reached over and grabbed Jack’s T-shirt in one fist and hauled him up on his feet.
“Do NOT EVER call me that again!” She roared. The intimidation factor was dampened only slightly be the fact that she still wore her magnifying glasses.
“C-c-c-call you what? A squaw? Isn’t that what you call an Indian woman?” Jack stammered.
“Only if you refer to all white women as cunts!” JB spat, releasing her hold on Jack’s shirt.
The tech genius collapsed back into his chair.
“That’s what it means? Damn! Well, now I’ve got another way to push your buttons,” He chuckled wickedly.
Johnny Betty ignored him, gathering up her boot and beads with as much dignity as she could muster.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When Clay emerged from Master Fung’s office, the irritated, frustrated warrior that had entered was gone. If anything, the Dragon of the Earth looked like he has seen a ghost. The Texan wandered out towards the courtyard like he was in a daze.
Raimundo was sprawled out in a sunny room, playing video games on the hand-held game system Kimiko had given him for his birthday. When a large shadow crossed the doorway leading into the courtyard, Rai looked up just in time to see Clay’s back disappearing behind the other door jam.
The Wind Dragon paused his game and ran after his friend.
“Dude! Did Master Fung totally ream you or what?” He called.
Clay didn’t answer, just kept lurching forward in a stiff-legged gait reminiscent of a zombie. . . . or, given Clay’s size, Frankenstein’s monster.
“Dude?” Rai quickly caught up to the Earth Dragon and got a good look at his face. The Brazilian paused and let Clay continue on in his lurching, hobbling gait. The big Texan made his way to one of his favorite spots; the temple gardens. Clay leaned back against the trunk of an old pear tree and let his legs slide forward until his butt thumped against the ground.
Then he simply stared off into the distance.
“What’s up with Clay?” Kimiko asked, coming up behind Rai. “Don’t tell me he’s pouting because Master Fung chewed him out.”
“I don’t think so,” Raimundo said. “I think something’s really wrong.”
“He’d better not be mooning over that redskin skank,” Kim snorted.
Raimundo blinked and looked over at the Japanese girl.
“Y’know, my grandfather’s an Aztec.”
“I though the Aztecs all died off hundreds of years ago,” Kimiko said, returning Raimundo’s sidelong look.
“The civilization died out; the people are still around,” Rai corrected.
“Whatever; I’m going to grab the Manchurian Musca and listen in on Omi’s turn to get reamed.” This said, the Dragon of Fire went back into the temple.
Across the courtyard, the pear tree started to shed leaves like it was autumn. A few half-grown pears thumped to the grass, which started to acquire brown patches. The Earth Dragon’s depression was spreading to his native element. Rai sighed. He’d better do something before Clay’s funk wiped out the gardens.
The Dragon of Wind crossed the courtyard and sat next to his friend under the ailing pear tree.
“You look like hell,” he said without preamble.
Clay didn’t answer, just kept staring straight ahead.
“I know you’re not sulking ‘cause Master Fung yelled at you. What’s the matter?”
Again, no answer.
Rai pulled his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms on them.
“ . . . . so . . . maybe it’s Johnny Betty. Don’t tell me you actually fell in love with her?”
“mmm . . . ah’on’t think so,” Clay muttered hoarsely.
“Oh . . . kay,” Rai said. “That kinda ran through my list of things that could be wrong. You want to throw me a bone here?”
Clay gave a sigh that seemed to come from his toes.
“We’re monks.”
“Uh . . . . yeah? You just figured that out?”
The big Texan stared off across the vegetable plot that was even now starting to wilt under weight of his feelings.
“Monks . . . vow of celibacy . . .”
“Oh please! Don’t tell me you’re letting that get you down! You know me an’ Kim sneak off for a little somethin’ somethin’ on a regular basis. Dude, if you’re horny, next time ditch Omi and you can go knock boots with your little . . . . your big Amazon booty,” Raimundo snorted.
“Shut up, you dumbass,” Clay growled softly.
Rai was too shocked by the fact that that Clay had just said a bad word, much less had just called him a bad word to protest.
“Sex ain’t th’ problem. Children are th’ problem.”
“Holy shit, you got her pregnant?! Damn, that was quick! Nice!” Rai cried, punching the larger monk on the shoulder.
“I didn’t get ‘er pregnant, Rai!” Clay cried. “That’s the problem! Wait, no, that ain’t the problem! I mean . . . . we ain’t even gone that far yet!”
“Yet?”
“Shut up! I have t’ carry on the Bailey family name! Jessie can’t do it ‘cause she’ll take her husband’s name! If’n the Bailey family is gonna stay th’ Bailey family, I have t’ have children! Do you understand, now?” Clay demanded.
The Dragon of the Wind stared at his teammate for a few minutes.
“Dude, you’re worrying about that now?” Raimundo rolled his eyes and lurched to his feet. “Clay, do yourself a favor: go get laid, cheer up and stop killing the garden!”
The Shoku leader strode back across the courtyard.
Clay watched him go sadly.
“I have t’ have children,” he repeated to himself. “Which means I can’t stay here.”