Collective Mutants: Summer Heat - II

by Rossi

Fish came out of the 'Gents' shaking water from his hands. He'd been soaking them in the sink - the air in the hall was close and thick with cigarette smoke, which normally wasn't a problem considering he spent half his time in pubs, but combined with the hot temperatures of that day and the still-warm air outside, he was feeling a little wilted. The music pounded his head unmercifully, and he decided to head outside to the marquee. Besides, the beer was there.

It was slightly quieter in the marquee, but not much cooler. Grabbing a plastic cup of beer from the bloke behind the bar, Fish continued outside. It seemed to be the bloke thing to do - there was a group of the area's young men clustered around and on one of the many parked farm utes. He wandered over, always inclined to be social. It soon became clear from the overheard conversation that it mightn't have been an entirely good idea.

". thinks she is, anyway? Bringing in some poofy city bloke, acting the snob. All that time in the city's made her up herself."

"What do you think about this mutant thing? They say she has control over her powers now, but you remember what she did to Masterson's place."

"Yeah, that's the thing with muties, you never know. Still, she's grown up very nice. Did you see her? Like to trying breaking _that_ filly myself, powers or not."

"If the city bloke hasn't beaten you to it. Me sister Carol was saying they used to share a place in the Big Smoke together, an' you know what that means." There was an ugly smattering of laughter, low and dirty. Another comment, this one too quiet for him to hear, and another ribband of laughter.

"Why don't you ask the city boy himself?" Fish said quietly, stepping forward. "You got something to say, I suggest you say it to my face. Or to Allison's."

"Got a problem, mate?" asked one of the boys, eyeing Fish appraisingly. He was, like most of them, well-muscled and tall, built large on a diet of good food and heavy work. Not for the first time Fish found himself wishing he'd gotten a slightly more offensive mutation. Being amphibious wasn't going to help here, not unless they decided to throw him in the river. Still, he'd started this, and he wasn't about to back down.

"Only problem here is you, and your mouth."

"I don't like your attitude, city boy."

"And I don't like your face, but them's the breaks." 'Now I'm for it,' he added mentally, moving around so he had a car at his back. He'd been involved in enough pub fights - an unfortunate social phenomenon when you were a mutant - to know that in real life people didn't wait turns to hit you, they all tended to pile in at once. And it wasn't a good idea to leave your back open if you didn't have someone to watch it.

"He's got you there, McKenzie," laughed a very welcome voice. David walked into the group, some of his own mates behind him. "You've really been hit by the ugly stick, haven't you?" He smiled, a lazy grin that promised all sorts of trouble if things went on; "Actually, I've just saved you a real hassle; Fish here could do all sorts of nasty thing to you, if you stir him up. Like someone said, you never know with mutants. Now, why don't you go and ask Suzy Carrington for a dance or something? She's got God-awful taste, liking a mug like you, but she's pining away in there for you, and this is meant to be a fun night. Okay?"

McKenzie muttered something, but took the hint. He glowered at David and Fish and headed back into the marquee, his mates following. Allison was in the doorway of the tent, and she glared at him as he shouldered past.

"Prick," she murmured as she came out. She was a little unsteady on her feet, as most of them were.

"Yeah," David agreed. "He's still pissed off that you beat him up on the school bus that time, I reckon."

"Thanks, Dave. Would have been hard to explain to Karen how Fish got broken." She took Fish's arm, steadying herself.

"No worries." There was some kind of silent communication between the siblings, and David grinned. "I've got to get back - got meself a couple of young ladies to entertain." He smoothed the front of his jacket with a grin and departed.

Allison chuckled, and turned to Fish, who was still a little bewildered at how fast things had been resolved. "Wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure," he replied, and let her lead him out of the car park and down the dirt track.

They walked in silence for a while, Fish enjoying the cool air and making sure Allison didn't trip herself up - she was more drunk than he'd seen her be for a while. The pressure of being 'on show', he supposed. She'd said something about this night being a kind of test, a chance to prove to the community her powers were well and truly under control. As if in answer to his thoughts, she snapped her fingers and let her forefinger blaze with a small flame, like a candle. It glimmered in the darkness around them like a firefly.

"Let there be light," she said, and giggled.

"You okay?" he asked, putting his arm around her as she stumbled over a rock.

"Stupid shoes," she muttered, leaning into him. "Yeah, I'm good. Fine and dandy. Just needed a break, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know." He wasn't much surprised that their weaving route had taken them back to the ute. "You want to sit for a bit?"

"'Kay," she said agreeably, moving around to the back of the car and dropping the tailgate at the back. "Jeez, David could have cleaned out the back of this."

"Here, sit on this." Fish pulled one of the sleeping bags out of its bag and spread it on the tray. Allison giggled.

"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you, Raphe?" She didn't appear to notice she'd stopped using the old nickname. "Nearly getting your head beaten in to defend my honour, that was really sweet. You've got all sorts of hidden depths, y'know that?"

"Yeah, that's me, hero and all-round nice guy," Fish said wryly. "I should be beating off the women with a stick."

"They've got no taste, is all." Allison shuffled closer. "And I've been bad. Haven't given you your hero's reward."

"Hmm? What reward?" Any further speech was cut off as Allison grabbed his lapels and pulled him forward to kiss him. She'd been drinking vodka and cranberry UDLs all night - her lips were sweet and sticky. For a split second he froze, and then pulled her closer. Her mouth opened under his, and her tongue flickered across his lips, the brief contact setting his nerves on fire. It took a huge effort of will to pull away -they were both breathing hard, and Allison's eyes were dark, the pupils dilated.

"Ali." He managed to form the word, despite the fact his brain seemed to have turned to mush. "What.?"

"What does it look like?" Allison replied. She didn't give a chance to reply, however - she effectively smothered any argument with a combination of mouth and hands and strong, supple body as she pushed him back onto the tray of the ute.

It wasn't like the movies. The tray of the ute was hard on knees and elbows and backs. A cloud of mosquitoes zeroed in from the river, biting merrily, until Allison managed to fry most of them by raising her skin temperature (and by this stage there was a lot of skin showing). Fish's bow tie went sailing over the side of the ute to disappear into the long grass on the riverbank. There was giggling and silly jokes and a pause to scrabble for one of the condoms David kept in the glove box of the ute "'cause you never know".

But afterwards, after the gasping and moaning and crying out inarticulate sounds of a pleasure so intense it was almost like pain, afterwards, as they lay curled together, Fish murmured to the warm head tucked under his chin:

"Thank you."

There was no reply - Allison was already asleep.

***

There was something poking her in the back.

Slowly awareness seeped back into Allison's consciousness, along with sensation. She could hear the morning chorus of birds - the magpies and kookaburras rising above the general burble of sound by sheer volume and enthusiasm - and feel the warm sun on the skin of her arms and shoulders. The _bare_ skin of her shoulders.

'Hang on a minute here.'

She took further stock. There was an unzipped sleeping bag draped over her like a blanket, and another underneath, but she could feel the hard ridges of metal beneath her hip and identify them as belonging to the tray of David's ute. And underneath the sleeping bag, she was very much not wearing anything at all. There was also something slung over her waist, pinning her down slightly. And there was something tickling her shoulder, not a breeze, because a breeze wasn't regularly spaced. Nor did a breeze snore slightly.

Full awareness hit, and with it, memory.

'Oh, hell.'

Gingerly she rolled over. Bad move. The thing poking her in the back was now poking her in the front, and seemed very pleased to do so. Even worse, _where_ it was poking didn't seem to mind that much either. She inched back - reluctantly - but couldn't get far with the arm slung over her waist. Her wriggling broke into whatever happy fuzzy place he was in, because Fish's blue-green eyes slowly opened.

"Um, hi," she said, not sure how to deal with this situation. It wasn't something she did on a regular basis.

"Hi," he said, smiling. The smile, and the starry look in his eyes, didn't help, not one bit.

"Ah, about last night." She tried to wriggle further away, but was prevented by a combination of Fish's arm and the wheel arch.

"Last night? Last night was _amazing_." He smiled again, the slightly silly smile of the happily laid. "So amazing, in fact, that it had to be a dream. Only now I'm awake, so I thought we could try that again. Sober, this time. So I can remember _everything_." He pulled her closer, back into range.

"Fish." she started to say, trying to pull her thoughts into something coherent. It was difficult, because he was nibbling her ear, then her neck. Somehow he'd found out her weak spots. Sometime last night, no doubt.

"Raphe," he murmured into the curve where neck met shoulder, slipping his arm under the sleeping bag to stroke her back. "Call me Raphe. Like you did last night."

"Raphe." The name turned into a slight gasp as he ran his cool hand over her skin, down to cup her bum, a thousand shivers racing down her spine. She arched, instinctively, the motion bringing their bodies back into contact, which set off a whole new bundle of sensations.

'What the hell,' she thought, reaching to grasp a handful of thick sandy hair and pulling his head up so she could kiss him. 'We'll sort it out later.'

***

Ripples chased each other across the dawn-still surface of the river -this late in the summer, its flow had been reduced to barely a movement by irrigation - and Allison followed them, trying to pick where Fish would surface. As always, he surprised her by appearing in the completely opposite direction. He flipped his hair back, scattering silver water droplets, and smiled at her. The new vulnerability in his face made her heart lurch nastily in her chest.

"Sure you don't want to come in?" he asked. "The water's great." He hazarded a small splash in her direction with a grin, but she just shook her head.

"I'm fine," she told him, pulling his jacket more firmly around her shoulders. Something in her voice must have been a bit off, because he looked at her strangely, concern dimming the happiness in his face.

"I'll come out then," he said, and ducked under the water again to surface not far from the edge. Allison blushed and looked away as he stood and waded out - his clothes were sitting next to her on the tray of the ute. She didn't look back until she caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye of him grabbing his trousers. His look, as he fastened them, was reproachful. He sat next to her and she stiffened as he put his arm around her waist.

"Fish, don't." She pulled away slightly. His eyes, when she dared to meet them again, were clouded with hurt and puzzlement.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concern warring with fear in his voice. "Did I do something? Did I hurt you?"

"No, nothing like that! It's just." Allison looked over the river, looking for guidance, some way of saying what she had to without destroying him. "What happened last night. I had a lot of fun, and you're a great bloke, but." She looked back at him and almost lost her nerve, seeing the expression on his face. "It was a mistake."

"'A mistake'," he echoed hollowly. "Not to me, it wasn't. It meant something to me, a lot more than you know." Fish turned slightly, so he was facing her, and grabbed her hand. "Allison, I."

"Don't!" She snatched her hand back. "Don't say it, Fish. _Please_."

"I have to," he replied stubbornly. "You might think you can pretend things don't happen and they won't, but I can't do this any more. I love you, Ali, have for a while now. I think we'd be good together - you can't pretend that we wouldn't, because you know we would."

"We wouldn't!" Her face flushed with a passion of another sort, Allison said the words with a vehemence which startled him. "How can you even think that? There's no way you can live up here - the heat'd kill you, you know that - and there's no way I'm leaving, not now when I've finally gotten where I wanted to be! And face it, I'm just a country bumpkin who only just finished high school, while you're smart and going to make a great doctor one day. You'd end up resenting me, or I'd get pissed off at you, and we'd fight all the time and make ourselves miserable. If I hadn't been so drunk last night, it would never have happened, and I wish it hadn't, if this is how it's going to be." Fish sat back, stunned by the outburst.

"But. but what about this morning?" he managed at last. "You weren't drunk then. Why else would you have done it, if it didn't mean something to you?"

Allison sighed, and looked out across the river again. The sun was casting dappled shadows through the leaves of the river red gums on the banks, glinting off the slow-moving water. "Sometimes, Fish, a fuck is just a fuck," she said at last. "It doesn't have to _mean_ anything, just two friends having a good time together. That's all it was, a good time. A bit of fun."

"I can't believe that." The words were bitter, and she winced a little. "It's never 'just a fuck', no matter what you say. It always means something. And I thought you respected me more than that." He slid off the tray, pulling his crumpled white shirt on as he did. "I'm going down to the station - I figure if I wait long enough a train will show up."

"What about your stuff?" she asked quietly.

"Send it on. I don't care." With that, he walked away, towards town, a tall, slim shape disappearing into the haze, not of heat, but of the tears blurring her vision.

***

The sun felt like it was baking him, leeching every last bit of moisture from his body, but he didn't move from his seat on the small platform. The scouring sun was merely making the outside of him feel as bad as the inside. The worst of it was he could still taste her, smell her, on his lips, on his skin, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to that brief moment of ecstasy and make it last forever. But he'd lost even that memory, with the way she'd dismissed it, as if it was nothing more than another game of pool.

A hand holding a bottle of water passed into his field of vision.

"Here," said a voice, but it wasn't Allison's. Fish glanced up at the lanky form of her brother, looking down at him with an expression of sympathy on his face. "She said you'd be torturing y'self, so she sent me with this. And your stuff." He placed the sports bag at Fish's feet and sat beside him. "Go on, looks like you need it."

Fish took the water, hesitating only a moment before taking a long, grateful swig. "She sent you? You know what happened, then?"

"Bits. I worked out the rest for meself." David's eyes were shadowed by his Akubra, but Fish caught a flash of something, a softening around them, that told him David wasn't here to beat the crap out of him. After seeing him in action last night, Fish was grateful. "Sorry it worked out like that. You're a good bloke."

"Not good enough, it seems," Fish said gloomily, watching a couple of crows flying over the sun-browned paddocks. Out in the open, the sun had leeched the colour from everything, leaving a landscape of yellows and ochres and dusty browns beneath the burning blue sky. Allison was right - this place, this heat, was not for him. His skin felt like it was flaking off.

"I wouldn't say that. Ali. she likes you, a lot. Too much, which is why she did what she did. She didn't want to tie you down, stop you from doing what you want to do. An' being made to leave here. well, it did a number on her. She's terrified of losing it again, now she's got it back. She'll do anything to stay on the farm. It's where she belongs." David paused in his unusually-long speech, collecting his thoughts. "She did it for both of you."

"Small comfort, mate," Fish said at last. "She didn't even give me the choice, just made her mind up and closed it. We could have worked something out."

"Maybe. Maybe not." David looked up the tracks - through the wavering haze, a train was coming. "She's sorry, if it helps."

"It doesn't." Fish stood, scooping up his bag, a somehow lost looking figure still dressed in the dishevelled formality of the night before. "Thanks, but. I appreciate the effort." The train came to a rattling stop, and Fish pulled the door open, disappearing inside. He didn't look back.

***

The End.

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