Alien vs. Alien

staying here. She’s just doing what we more experienced parents call Baby Blackmail.”
    Jeff didn’t look convinced.
    “You can stay if you want to,” Chuckie said. “White and I can escort everyone to NASA Base without you.”
    Jeff heaved a sigh and kissed Jamie on her forehead. “No. Jamie will be safe here. Kitty, on the other hand, can find trouble without looking for it.”
    “I resent that.”
    “But you can’t deny it,” Christopher said.
    “True enough.” We said our good-byes to those staying at Martini Manor, then those of about to test gathered at the front steps. Len went to get the limo, and I sent a text.
    “Who are you talking to?” Jeff asked.
    “I’m letting Malcolm know where we’re going and why.”
    “Nice to see you keep in constant contact with him,” Jeff said far too snidely.
    Chuckie sighed. “Buchanan’s down here doing a job the head of the P.T.C.U. wants done. You feel free to call your mother-in-law and complain to her that you’re jealous of the man assigned to protect her daughter and granddaughter. But, please, put it on speakerphone so we can all enjoy Angela ripping you a new one.”
    Since Chuckie had basically said what I would have, I let Jeff’s whining pass without comment while he grumbled under his breath.
    Len brought the limo around. Like every A-C limo, it was gray and had an impressive number of extra A-C bells and whistles on it. I was particularly fond of the surround-sound speakers and the laser shield features.
    We piled in. I took the rear seat, Jeff and Chuckie joining me. Christopher, Amy, and White faced us. Kyle shut the passenger door, took shotgun, and we took off. I looked behind us—sure enough, a black Escalade was pulling out from in front of the servants’ quarters. Buchanan had insisted that I always make sure he was the one driving, so I looked carefully. Yep, there was a big, good-looking, brown-haired guy behind the wheel.
    “Done checking out the competition?” Jeff asked.
    “Jeff, for God’s sake.”
    “No, let him go on,” Chuckie said. “It’s so nice to hear him complain about someone other than me.”
    While Jeff grumbled and the rest of us laughed, “My Humps” by the Black Eyed Peas came on the sound system. I had a feeling Kyle had chosen that song on purpose.
    I decided it was time to get us off of Jeff’s jealousy issues. We’d been apart for a month, after all, so I had to figure the loneliness and horniness was causing most of his jealousy right now. Sadly, couldn’t do anything about the horniness, for either one of us, but I could get us talking about something else. “So, why are we driving instead of taking a gate? The last time we went to NASA Base for anything we went as ‘just folks’ and all almost died in about a hundred different ways.”
    “It’s the weekend,” Jeff replied. “It’ll raise fewer questions if we show up and go in through the front door.”
    “I’d also like to have our own car this time,” Christopher added. “Just in case. It’ll be a lot better to escape from alligators in a limo than in a VW Superbug.”
    “That was the fun part of Operation Drug Addict.”
    On cue, everyone I could see winced. No one else really seemed to appreciate my names for things; apparently the boring, official names were the popular ones. “I hate your name for that,” Jeff muttered.
    “Besides, you didn’t think it was fun while it was happening,” Christopher reminded me.
    “True.” Of course, Jeff and I had had some amazing sex during that time.
    Jeff nuzzled my ear. “Love where your mind’s at.”
    “Don’t start,” Chuckie said flatly. “I know the four of you have been separated for weeks, but the rest of us really don’t want to watch the reunions.”
    “Spoilsport.”
    “That’s me. I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but just in case, don’t mention the pictures to anyone until you’ve all passed the HSAC test and we’re all alone.”
    “I was thinking I’d just grab the receptionist and tell her all about it,” Amy said, sarcasm knob headed to eleven.
    “What if they ask us about it during the test?” Len asked.
    “That’s a good question,” Chuckie said slowly. “They shouldn’t . . .”
    “Who else knows about those pictures? Or should I ask who doesn’t know?” I prayed my father was firmly on the side of “doesn’t know.”
    “From our side, only those of us in the car and Mister Joel Oliver,” Jeff said.
    White coughed. “I