by Rose St. Andrews
Dr Arthur James was one of the leading theoretical physicists in the world, and yet at times he felt like a harried father. His partner was Dr Selena Gomey, and she was the cause of both his success and distress.
She'd lured him to her lab with talk of her teleportation invention. What she'd neglected to tell him was that it wasn't perfected. Anything sent through the machine tended to get... well, sort of torn apart and slapped back together. The two had worked together for months on the project, but when progress had not been made in a timely fashion, Selena decided to cut corners. In the last six months, she'd sent dozens of items through without running any simulations. Each time, she learned more, but each time she damaged the machine.
She didn't care. Her only interest was in perfecting her invention. Arthur was losing his patience with her.
"Selena, you really must stop these haphazard tests," he scolded. "Every time you run one, you set us back a month."
"Shut up, Art," she spat. "I think I've worked out what went wrong last time."
"You've said that the last three times," he replied calmly, counting to ten in his head. "For God's sake, just take it slow."
Selena moved to her desk. It not only had her computer and papers, but several of her favorite toys. As she fiddled with them, Art had to grin. God, she could be such a child. He thought of her as the classic stereotype brilliant scientist, and the two of them were a study in contrast. She could design a machine to split atoms, but she'd lose her car keys in her own purse. Where he was tall and powerfully built, she was petite and waif-like. Her height and size were inversely proportional to her intellect. When they went out, on those rare occasions when they took a break, she was routinely carded at the clubs, despite being almost thirty.
His computer beeped. Loath as he was to take his attention away from work, he saw that an email had come in, and he recognized who had sent it. Oh, it could not be good news. He punched a few keys and viewed the message. Yeah, he was right, it was very, very bad news. Chewing his lip, he began pacing about the room.
Selena noticed his distress and put down her Transformer toy. "Art, I sense something is amiss. Care to share?"
"Yes, I do," he growled, and stopped in his tracks. "It seems we're in a bit of a jam."
She laughed. "Oh, that is rich! Okay, I'll bite, what's up?"
"It would appear that some of our less scrupulous rivals have figured out where we are. Well, to be exact, they know we're here in LA, and they're looking for us. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you, Selena?"
She swallowed hard, put down her toy, and took a step back. "Ah no. Why do you ask?"
Art ground his teeth and spun his laptop around for her to see. "Have a look," he snapped, pointing at the screen. "According to my little friend, my spy at the lab of You-Know-Who, you were at a certain club night before last."
"Oh, yeah, I was. But, that was nothing, I just... had some fun."
"Fun!? You got drunk and blabbed about our work! Selena, how could you?"
She squirmed, standing before him like a contrite child. If she'd been in a dress or skirt, she'd be fiddling with the hem. As it was, she was in her usual faded jeans and blouse.
"It's not my fault, Arthur. You know how tough it is for me to even get into a club, and this place ushered me right in and seated me in the VIP section. Now, come on, that never happens to me. So, I kind of..."
"Drank too much, and talked too much," Art said, and spun away from her. Running his fingers through his scraggy mop of black hair, he tried to think. "Your treatment there suggests one of our rivals set the whole thing up! Okay, we can salvage this situation. We'll move the lab. We'll find some place to hide, and we'll move."
"What?!" she squeaked. "Arthur, to cite an old saying, isn't that cutting off your nose to spite your face? I mean, come on, things aren't that bad. Can't we-?"
"No, we can't stay!" he shot back, spinning to face her. "Selena, we're talking about teleportation. If - when - this works, it will not only revolutionize every aspect of transportation, but make its owner rich beyond the dreams of Avarice. Think about that. Those are some mighty big stakes. Don't you think there are people willing to kill to possess that?"
She slowly nodded. "Yes, I see what you mean. All right, we'll move."
"Good, I'm glad that's settled. Now, why don't you start powering down the main system? I'll see about the animals, we'll have to... I don't know, take them to a shelter or something."
They set to work, Selena in the Main Research Lab and Arthur in Bio Storage. This was where they kept a dozen cats and dogs in pens. Their hope had been, once the machine was perfected, to send the animals through. Now, that would have to wait. Frankly, Art was glad. The previous week Selena had decided that the dogs and cats should be let out to play - together! By the time Arthur had wrangled all of them back into their pens, he had multiple bites and scratches on his arms and legs.
Why did he put up with her shenanigans? He knew why. The fact was, despite everything, despite all the pain and headaches she caused him, he loved her. He couldn't help himself. He knew she could sometimes be as twisted as the Gordian Knot, but it didn't matter to him. Maybe, just maybe he could 'untie' that knot and turn her into a real grown up. He got the animals' food and water, and then returned to the lab. He froze and his jaw dropped at the sight before him. Selena was kneeling on her desk chair, swiveling it from side to side as she casually chatted with one of her girl friends on Skype. While he was clearly coming in at the middle of the conversation, he still got the gist of it.
She was telling her friend their plans!
That was the last straw. He felt his blood pressure go through the roof, and his anger boiled over. Art raced forward, slapped her pert little bottom, and slammed her laptop shut.
"Ow!" she yelped, spinning to face him. "Arthur, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I could ask you the same! Selena, what did we just discuss not more than ten minutes ago? We're moving and going into hiding so we can continue our work. So, what's the first thing you do? You blab our plans to someone."
Selena rolled her eyes and blew a raspberry. "Arthur, I had to tell Britney. How are we supposed to stay in touch? She'll let all my friends know, and then-"
"What?" he bellowed. "You mean she's going to call a bunch of ...?"
"Oh no, she'll just post it on Facebook and do a couple of tweets, once I tell her where we are."
Arthur's face turned deep crimson, even as his fingers danced across the keyboard of his computer. He got online, went to Facebook, and saw exactly what he did not want to see: their plans splashed across someone's page! Arthur ground his teeth so hard he truly thought they'd crumble to dust.
"Selena, you-you," he stammered.
He scooped her up in his arms. God, he could easily hold her like a child in its father's embrace. He sat and plopped her across his lap. She shuddered in fear, she felt like she had as a child when she went to see Santa at the mall, just not in this position. No, this was one pose she'd never found herself in.
"Arthur, you let go of me this instant," she snapped.
He laughed. "Selena, you are in no position to give orders. Do you have any idea what you've done to us?"
"Um ... no," she squeaked.
"Well, I know just the medicine for a naughty little girl such as you!"
Selena was totally amazed, she fit so easily across his lap, and her tiny arms and legs dangled freely. His left hand and forearm just about covered her back, and his hard right hand completely covered her pert bottom.
"Arthur, what are you doing? Don't you dare strike me!"
Smack! His hand impacted hard on her ass, and a red handprint appeared, stretching across both of her bare cheeks. Selena gasped. Good God, that really hurt. Before she could even react, another blow fell.
"I am not striking you, Selena. This is an ancient form of discipline, most often used on disobedient children, and in this classic position. It's known as a spanking, and I suggest you get used to it," Art explained, rather clinically, even as he kept right on smacking away.
"Ouch! Ow, I know what it is, you buffoon. Ow! And I have no ouch intentions of owwiee getting used to it," she said, practically growling. "Cease and desist ow at once, or I'll ... ouch!"
Art chuckled. "What's that, Selena? You're mumbling, I can't quite hear you. What is it you'll do? Oh, right, nothing, as you're powerless to do anything right now, or in the future."
"Owwiieeee! Okay, you've made your point," she wailed. "Just stop, please."
He did stop eventually, but only after Selena was reduced to a sobbing shadow of her former self. She was then rather unceremoniously dumped onto the chair. She howled as her sore bottom made contact with the hard wood, and was on her feet and furiously rubbing in a matter of seconds.
"Oh, that was most satisfying," Arthur said smugly.
"OMG, that was oh so mean," Selena choked out between sobs.
"Mean? Mean? You call me mean? You trick me into leaving my lucrative position to work on a machine you knew wasn't ready, and I am mean? You ridicule my efforts for months on end, and I am mean? You cause endless trouble with the machine and set our work back months at a time, and I am mean? Selena, what you just got was a small taste of justice."
"Feeling better, dear?" she sneered.
His face took on quite the reddish hue and he balled his hands into fists. For a moment, he just sat there, his hands shaking, and then he calmed down and relaxed. Reaching out with both hands, he grabbed her chair and pulled her close until they were eye to eye. Man, did he ever look big!
"Actually, you know what? I do. Look at my eyes, Selena, and tell me what you see."
"Hazel," she said, deadpan.
"Yeah, and something else. They're bloodshot. Do you know why?"
"That's typically due to lack of sleep," she replied casually, trying to sound brave.
He sat back. "Exactly. Do you know when I last had a decent night's sleep? Six months ago! I've been working and slaving away on this project, and you have lacked any focus on our work."
"I've contributed plenty to our research," she shot back.
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