Coffee, I wanted coffee. There was some talking to do if these women were going to work out in my world and I wanted some coffee.

“Coffee,” I said gently.

Neither of them moved.

Thwack! Thwack!

Both of them chirped and were moving now. It was Keystone Kops in action, as neither knew what the other was doing but both were hurrying. Great, now all I needed was a wife-beater and a PBR, and I would be set for life. Holy Fuck, where the hell was this going? That’s right, ‘Spare the Rod…’

Minutes later, I had two women back in front of me, one nude and kneeling and the other still clothed. Time to level the table.

Thwack! A beautiful light brown calf grew a red mark. Banshee looked at me like I was insane. I ignored her pride.

Thwack! Thwack! Suddenly the buckskin dress was in a pile on the blanket and Banshee was kneeling naked next to Mary. Tables leveled.

I took the time to ogle each of them, both bodies were new to me but Banshee’s had just been uncovered and she was spread wide open for examination. This was the first time I’d seen her blush, I admit I was quite full of myself right then. It was a great moment in my life.

Fucking Pete walked in. I ignored him for a moment as he gazed in amazement at the scene in front of him.

“Sit,” I said, and quietly added “Blankets, quickly.”

Mary looked up, saw Pete and quickly threw Banshee’s dress into her lap before grabbing a blanket to cover herself. Pete was standing opened-mouthed, staring at his subdued sister while she quickly dressed.

I looked at Mary and simply said, “Coffee, small sugar please.” Mary smiled at me and scuttled over to make my coffee; Stockholm Syndrome indeed.

“Petalesharo, please come and sit with us,” I opened and patted a seat on the bench next to me. He was still a little bit shook by what he had just stumbled upon. He glanced at his sister, who was sitting demurely waiting, and his eyes filled with wonder. Apparently, I had tamed the mighty Minotaur of his world and his firecracker sister was already docile and domesticated.

I simply smiled at him and asked, “Pete, who comes to visit tonight?”

“All Chiefs,” was his reply, “and wives.”

“Pete, I don’t have any food to offer.”

“You are guest of honor, they bring food,” was Pete’s reply. OK, so pot luck dinner at my house to honor me. Who knew that the Plains Natives did pot lucks? If someone showed up with a molded jello dessert, then I would know this was all definitely a dream. I knew I could make this work, though. I just needed a few things and I would need Pete’s help.

“Pete I need my pants.”

He looked at Banshee and said something. she suddenly blushed brightly and scurried off, apparently to retrieve my trousers. I took the moment to send Mary after her clothes, or what was left of them.

“Pete, I need a shirt and a dress and shoes for Mary. I also need a large fur for my bed, how much?”

He thought for a second and said, “Half of a tobacco.”

Damn, tobacco went far around here. I dug out a bag and tossed it to him, “Take your sister to help please.”

Pete turned to his sister with a comment half-way out of his mouth, when the normal Banshee returned with a force. I was liking this woman more with every passing hour. The squabbling siblings left the lodge together in a cloud of auditory mayhem. Mary and I got down to the serious business of preparing for company.

When all was said and done, we had a decent setup and were all suitably attired for the occasion. I had my spare shirt out of the pack and a clean shave while the women wore buckskin dresses. Mary’s destroyed dress had sacrificed itself to give them delicate matching bows on wrists, ankles, and in their hair. They had done their hair identically and were a cute sight, kneeling on the floor on either side of me.

The coup sticks were late additions, since Banshee wanted them displayed proudly next to me, leaning up against the packs near my rifle and shotgun. Brin laid on the buffalo skin on the floor in front of me.

The coup sticks made me laugh and my laughter confused Banshee so it became a conversation with Mary and Pete in the middle trying to translate. In my frustration, I mistakenly admitted that there weren’t enough notches and that if we were going to display something like that it should at least be accurate.

Well that was a big mistake. She was proud of my status so she needed the truth. So I started counting for them. Counting up the dead is always a mistake. It forces home the realization of what an awful person you actually are. Running around third world societies with advanced weapons and space age technology does not make you a noble knight of honor, it makes you an evil butcher.

It also brings back the nightmares.

Fanatical teenagers rushing a heavy weapons emplacement shouldn’t count as coup.

Total including Rulo and the latest fight.

Nineteen.

I am so going to hell in a bucket.

Or maybe I’ve already been there or I am there now. Hell, I’ve killed six people since I got here.

Mary and Petalesharo looked at me with sadness and I looked for my bottle.

Banshee smiled and joyfully began working on the coup stick.

**** ****

Brin came to my rescue. Nothing like the attention and loyalty of a good dog to lift your spirits. Hell, the only thing Brin thought sticks of any sort were useful for, is playing tug-of-war. Brin didn’t play fetch. If you asked him to fetch he’d pull up the Internet and point out Retrievers that were available for adoption. I was OK with that. Brin had my back and had proved it.

I looked at my bottle, took a small sip, and put it away. That would have to wait until after dinner. I’d just hang out with Brin while the guests arrived.