JDL23

Four Veronica washes her hands in the sink, feeling slightly comforted by the restroom's aqua green color scheme. She doesn't quite understand why aliens that otherwise look so human have such strange designs, like why their toilets and sinks are triangular instead of round, or what purpose three faucets on the same sink serve. Sure, the second one turned out to be a soup dispenser, but she didn't dare touch the third one with the red blinking light on top. After wiping her hand on a paper towel, Veronica stands in front of the door and waits for it to slide open. She finds Governess Hanna standing outside, greeting her with a kind smile and an outstretched hand. Dubiously, Veronica takes her hand. She feels like a schoolgirl being led back to class, but she supposes that the Governess is just being polite. "I hope you'll enjoy your stay here, Miss Hyde," the Governess says as they go back up the corridor. "Has the Doctor said how long you'll be with us?" "He never does, actually." Veronica shrugs. "Come to think of it, we really don't stay much longer when things quiet down." Hanna frowns. "I'm sorry. 'Quiet down'?" Her skeptical tone stops Veronica in her tracks. She looks at the Governess and puts her hand up in reassurance. "Oh, no, we're not trying to start trouble! I swearI We just, um, tend to... find it ourselves..." She can't say another word. It sounds too ridiculous once she's said it out loud. Veronica had never really considered before how often the Doctor or the TARDIS seemed drawn to being in harm's way. Granted, she was used to it herself, having to do her father's work with the drug trade, but not every single day had been spent running from the police or fighting off monsters or mayhem like that. Some days all she'd done was have a nice cup of tea and a muffin while she watched TV. There seemed to be less of those moments while traveling with the Doctor. The Governess, however, seems to understand. She puts a sympathetic hand on Veronica's arm. "It's all right, Miss. You don't need to explain yourself to me. I have no right to pry." Veronica smiles back. "Thank you, Hanna." "Governess, please." "Well, you can call me Veronica, if you like." Hanna blushes. "Sorry, Miss. We Sestrans respect titles more than names. Holdover from the war, you see." After a moment, she recomposes her face and straightens out her cloak. "Shall we go back, then?" Veronica is about to say yes when she hears a distant wail from the other end of the corridor. She and Hanna both turn toward the sound. "What was that?" Veronica asks. "A discipline session." Hanna steps over and peers down the hall. "You see, sometimes our Puerin can be a little... hard to manage. When they need a little reconditioning, we send them to a discipline chamber." When she turns back to Veronica, her smile is more polite than genuine. "It's not very pleasant for either party, I'm afraid." Veronica nods, but she isn't satisfied. That cry hurt her deeply. She remembers hearing sounds of arguing and domestic abuse from her old neighborhood. Sounds of crying children and mothers beaten by savage fathers. She closes her eyes, remembering her own mother's tear-stricken face and how she disappeared when Veronica was just fourteen. "Please, Governess," she says softly, forcing herself to look down the hall, "I must see for myself. Both the good and the bad." Hanna nods. "As you wish, Miss Hyde." --- Down the corridor and through a door on the right, Hanna leads Veronica down a short flight of stairs. It doesn't escape the young woman's notice that suddenly the lighting is a lot dimmer and everything is set in tones of gray and red instead of neutral white. Ahead lies a door marked with Sestran letters. Hanna waves a keycard over the lock and waits for the door to open. She steps aside and lets Veronica enter first. The room beyond is doused in an eerie blue light. In the middle is a tilted chair, into which a Puerin girl is strapped. Some kind of mechanical vise is gripping her head to the chair, while smaller metal arms hold her eyelids open like something out of A Clockwork Orange. The Puerin girl's face is taut with mortal dread as she stares helplessly at something on the ceiling. "I will ask you once more, Clarent-33," says a synthesized male voice. "Where is the Golden Vault hidden?" Veronica looks up and sees a floating metal ball with a single red eye on a telescoping arm. As it swings toward her, the eyestalk makes her think of the recordings the Doctor showed her of his mortal enemies, the Daleks. The metal ball buzzes once, then says, "Minister, I must report a security breach. This woman is not authorized to be here." Just then, the door behind Hanna opens and in storms a tall Sestran man in black jumpsuit and an off-white cloak. He sneers at Veronica, then turns onto Hanna with murderous contempt. "Governess, you will explain this! Why did you bring this girl here?" "My apologies, Minister!" Hanna smooths back her hair and bows frantically. "She asked me to bring her here! I... I didn't realize it wasn't permitted!" The Minister turns to Veronica again, this time with a more guarded expression. He squints at her, then waves at the captive Puerin in the chair. "What you have seen, Miss, is nothing of concern. Just a routine interrogation. You would do well to avoid discussing it outside this room." "Is that so?" Veronica feels something hot and red boiling up inside of her. She hasn't felt this mad since the day she called out her father for selling guns to Cybermen. "And you expect me to keep quiet about cold-blooded torture? You'll have to kill me if you think I won't be telling the Doctor about this!" "The Doctor's here?" the Minister hisses. He glances at Hanna, who nods mutely and looks as terrified as the girl strapped to the chair. When he turns back to Veronica, he's grinning and not in a good way. "Killing you isn't the only option available," he says quietly. "You just need to be kept quiet, Miss. Like a good little girl." Veronica edges back, trying to shield the Puerin girl. But the Minister doesn't attack her. Instead, he reaches into a pocket on his jumpsuit and takes out a pair of breath masks. He hands one to Hanna, who puts it on reluctantly, and then dons his own mask. "Technician," the Minister says, his voice muffled, "activate the Kybertine Protocol. Second degree, please." "Right you are, sir," the metal ball in the air buzzes back. Then Veronica smells something bitter and rotting in the air around her. She coughs and lifts her hand to her nose, but the metal ball's eyestalk extends itself right in front of her face. She stares into its red eyepiece right as it flashes white-- And then, black.

Actually, they're both original characters. The Doctor here is just another incarnation (possibly the Twelfth, whom I described as having a beard and being ginger). Veronica is just based on characterizations of previous companions, with her own backstory.

I would say when the kids are ready, but probably I'd start encouraging them around age 3. Starting at age 2 just seems harsh, and I know that changing diapers can be a hassle for parents, but that's part of raising kids. It's messy and inconvenient, but you do it anyway because you love them.

Three The Doctor watches Governess Hanna take Veronica by the hand and lead her out of the dining room. He smiles at them until they leave, then looks around to see if he's being watched. By now, the other Sestrans have gone back to work, leaving him alone with the various auto-trays. Slowly, he gets up from the table and adjusts the scarf around his neck. He always liked this scarf; he'd worn it at the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II and had recently sported it at Adele's latest concert. Lots of good memories associated with it. He'll need those bright memories to cheer him up in a place like this. He felt it the moment Hanna started giving her tour. A sort of psychic imbalance in the air--and not just what had happened to the Puerin. Something else is rotten in the heart of Sestrapolis. He's quite sure of it. Still, appearances must be kept up. As the Doctor leaves his table and exits the room, he whistles the opening notes to "Rolling in the Deep." This seems to placate the auto-trays, which go back to their cleanup duties on the other side of the room. The door dilates open and the Doctor steps through. However, standing on the other side is a small delegation of Sestran men in blue cloaks and black suits. The tallest and oldest stands in front, brushing back his white hair in a sign of humility. "It is a great honor to meet you at last, Doctor." The eldest Sestran offers a lavender-toned hand. "Premier Bardein, leader of the Collective, at your service." The Doctor shakes his hand and smiles politely. "Premier Bardein, it's my pleasure to be here. I'm glad to see that things have settled down in the Collective since last time." "Indeed." The Premier frowns as if he's tasted something bitter. "If you have the time, however, I would very much like for you to sit in our Cabinet meeting tomorrow. There are a number of pressing issues that I'm sure your wisdom could help solve for us." He quickly smiles and adds, "Once again." "I'm afraid my doctorate doesn't apply to all fields, Premier." The Doctor pauses, thinks it over, then shrugs and adds, "Well, most of them, anyway. I promise to do what I can." Behind the Premier, the other somber-looking Sestrans nod and murmur agreeably. Premier Bardein smiles and clasps his hands together. "Excellent, Doctor. Most gratifying to hear. And as a token of my personal respect, please allow me to show you to your living quarters." "Hang on." The Doctor leans past the entourage and looks down the corridor behind them. "My, uh, companion is here with me. She's with Governess Hanna at the moment." The Premier blinks. "Oh, you have a companion? And here we thought you traveled alone." "I've got someone more often than not." "I see." The Premier waves his hand in what most Sestrans consider a reassuring gesture. "My staff can contact Governess Hanna and let her know where you're staying. I'm sure it won't be any trouble." "Good to hear." The Doctor takes a step forward, then realizes that the entourage hasn't moved yet. He smiles through his sudden embarrassment and waves at the Premier. "Apologies, sir. It's your city. You lead the way." --- As Premier Bardein rambles on about progress and the "Puerin-Sestran partnership," the Doctor lets his eyes wander freely over the clean white corridors and passing Sestran workers. Every so often he sees a Sestran Governor or Governess leading a troupe of white-clad Puerin into a nursery or managing an operations team. They play with the controls like it's a game but they're clearly operating the drones in the air around them. It's amazing to watch them in action, but it does little to quell the unease in the Doctor's mind. An hour later, Bardein has led his group into an apartment complex. He approaches a door marked for eminent visitors and offers the Doctor a keycard. "The key also features twenty-seven ducars' worth of credit. Redeemable for any restaurant or theater of your choice." "Much obliged," the Doctor replies, but he's soon interrupted by a terrible scream at the other end of the hallway. Everyone turns around to see a Puerin girl running toward them, waving her arms madly. The Premier turns and nods at two of his fellow Sestrans, who step forward and restrain the errant child by the arms. One of them takes her by both arms while the other reaches around and spanks her once. The blow stops the girl's crying, although tears are still streaming down her face. "Oh dear, oh dear." Premier Bardein looks the troublemaker over with mild disapproval. "As you can see, Doctor, sometimes the kybertine virus has a terrible side effect on their minds. Makes them agitated without reason. We try to curb it with a good diet and exercise, but sometimes discipline is the only solution." He turns to the two Sestrans holding her. "Guardsman, what's the child's name?" The guard glances at something on the back of the Puerin's jumpsuit. "Clarent-33. Level Twenty-Two, Block Nyaj, Subsection Hul." "Do you mind if I have a look at her?" The Doctor reaches for his sonic screwdriver, thinking he can use its biometric features to get a good look inside the girl's psyche. But the Premier reaches out and holds him by the arm. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I think it might be best if we left this up to our own specialists." Premier Bardein turns and quickly waves the two guards away, who drag the silently crying girl away. Then he looks back at the Doctor, who remains as puzzled as before. "I realize how harsh we might seem, but we've been on edge ever since the end of the war. Being the Puerin's caretakers has strained the Collective's morale as well as our resources." Nodding, the Doctor puts his screwdriver away. He takes out his keycard and slides it through the lock on his door. "Well, Premier. I'll be more than glad to discuss such matters with you tomorrow. Please make sure my companion arrives with Governess Hanna as soon as possible." The Premier nods respectfully. "You have my word, Doctor. Good day." When the door slides shut, the Doctor finally takes out his screwdriver and points it at the lock. With a quiet whirr, it takes only a few seconds to reprogram the door's security code. No keycard will open it now--only the Doctor's screwdriver. He hasn't survived nine centuries of adventures and horrors by being a naive houseguest. And speaking of houseguests, the Doctor wonders, what's become of the lovely Veronica...?

Two "When I last came here, the Sestrans and the Puerin had been at war for almost five hundred years." The Doctor sits on a bright red plastic chair, leaning forward with a glum expression. "The Sestrans were always wealthier, more refined. The Puerin were rugged seafarers. For five hundred years, it was a war of Puerin piracy and Sestran bombings." "It was the Doctor who tried to convince us to band our forces together," Governess Hanna adds. She bounces a male Puerin on her knee, who gurgles happily. "He saw that the sea levels were rising dangerously and knew it was only a matter of time before the lower-altitude Puerin settlements would be wiped out. But the Premier and his Cabinet didn't want to wait for that to happen. They advocated more... drastic measures." The Doctor looks at Veronica, then over at Hanna. "But how could the Puerin have been reduced to this?" Hanna lowers her head. "The kybertine virus. Our best scientists created a biochemical weapon that would attack Puerin's brains. Reduce them to a more peaceful, more amenable state of consciousness. You can imagine our shock when boatloads of mindless, terrified grown infants suddenly arrived at our cities weeks later." The overgrown child on her lap gurgles in response. Hanna tries her best to smile and pats him on the back. "All these Puerin," the Doctor muses. He scratches his beard and glances at the other "children" asleep in their cribs. "Taking them all in must've been terrible strain on your resources." "Our economy has suffered, yes." Hanna turns to Veronica. "But you must understand. We couldn't have it on our consciences to let them fend for themselves in the wild sea. And besides, we have tried to integrate them into our society. You remember, Doctor, how quickly the Puerin adapted to whatever technology they stole from us? Even in this regressed state, they still intuitively understand how to operate our maintenance drones and power generators. We just had to retool the controls to be more... child-friendly. Big buttons and bright colors, that sort of thing." Veronica leans over to get a look at one of the Puerin girls asleep in her crib. She seems so peaceful, sucking on her pacifier and curled up under a blanket. It's hard to imagine these young ones ever being pirates or manual laborers. "I take it the regression has become hereditary?" the Doctor asks. He takes out his sonic screwdriver and stares meaningfully at it. Hanna nods. Then, as she takes notice of the Puerin on her lap and how his eyes are drooping shut, she picks him up and carries him over to the last empty crib. She pulls a blanket over him and pushes a button on the wall. Veronica can barely hear something like a synthetic lullaby being played in the air over his crib. The melody is alien, but the tinkling notes are as familiar to her as any nursery rhyme. Looking back, Veronica sees that the Doctor is lost in thought, contemplating the device in his hands. She remembers thinking of it as a magic wand, but he explained it was nothing of the sort. More like a Swiss Army knife. It had a variety of useful functions, but it couldn't be used as a weapon and it couldn't solve the biggest problems--like war, poverty, and tyranny. Then, as he did now, the Doctor seemed so very old when he spoke and looked at the screwdriver in his hand. It was easy to believe in such moments that he'd been doing this sort of thing for centuries. "Doctor, Miss Hyde," says Hanna, breaking the awkward silence in the nursery, "perhaps you'd care to join me for some refreshments? The children need their rest and we have to restock this facility." Veronica waits for the Doctor to get up and pocket his screwdriver. They follow Hanna out the door, only to quickly step aside as another Sestran pushes a cart down the corridor. He wears a blue jumpsuit like Hanna, but with a gray cloak, and nods respectfully at the Doctor on his way into the nursery. Veronica notices that the top of the cart is loaded with baby bottles, clean pacifiers, folded-up onesies, and adult-size diapers. When she turns around, Hanna is staring at her sympathetically. "Rather a lot to take in, isn't it?" "Yes, it is." Veronica blushes. "But I've come to expect that in traveling with the Doctor." The Doctor slowly perks up at the sound of her voice. He turns to Veronica with a tiny smile and a wink, as if to say, "Thanks for the pick-me-up." Then he turns to Hanna, offers her his arm like a gentleman, and says out loud, "Well. Shall we go then?" --- On Level Sixteen, the Governess takes her two guests into a large dining area. To Veronica, the silvery chairs and light brown walls remind her of a cafe in Soho she and her friends used to frequent on weeknights. At this time of the day--hard to tell inside the city, but Hanna says it's just after midday--the dining area is sparsely populated. Only a handful of Sestrans in jumpsuits and cloaks sit around, drinking from white mugs and eating off silver trays. A small fleet of floating trays with tiny robotic arms waits on them, delivering fresh meals and cleaning up vacated tables with silent precision. The Doctor finds them a table in the center of the room and waves over one of the floating trays. It jabbers at him in a fast-paced language that Veronica doesn't begin to comprehend, but the Doctor just says, "The special sounds fine. We'll have three of those, a glass of tea, a bakya juice for the Governess, and a gerry ale for the lady." Veronica frowns at him as the auto-tray floats off to the kitchen. "Gerry ale?" "Don't worry, you'll like it." He grins at her and pokes her in the shoulder. "Totally compatible with human biochemistry. Sweeter and less filling than your usual English beer." "So basically what I'd be drinking at a nightclub." "Precisely!" The Doctor's grin drops to a sad smile as he turns to Hanna. "Now, this Premier of yours. He the same chap I met before?" The Governess shakes her head. "That was Premier Arstani. He resigned after the debacle with the kybertine virus. We had another election and Bardein has been the Premier ever since." "What you might not know, Veronica," the Doctor adds, leaning toward her conspiratorially, "is that the Sestrans practice direct democracy. Every Sestran over the age of thirty is automatically a Member of Parliament. All decisions conducted by wireless voting. Remarkable, isn't it?" "It isn't all that remarkable," Hanna comments. She looks at Veronica. "Are people on your world that interested in their politics?" "Depends on who you ask, I suppose." Veronica shrugs. "I never cared much myself. Always thought Parliament was a bunch of old men in suits making a lot of noise while civil servants did all the real work." "It's amazing how universal that style of government is," the Doctor remarks with a snide chuckle. "Here," Hanna explains, "being political is just one more social obligation. I can't tell you how many times I've been in the middle of changing a diaper or feeding a Puerin when I've gotten a prompt to vote yea or nay on some legislation about city infrastructure." Veronica stifles a laugh at the mental image of an overworked Governess typing in her vote while she's bottlefeeding an adult Puerin. Her laughter stops when the auto-tray arrives with their meals. On each plate is a mass of purple-veined leaves under a yellow sauce that looks surprisingly meaty. The unappealing blend of colors makes Veronica want to gag, but to her shock, both the Governess and the Doctor dig into their food with gusto. She decides to try her gerry ale. At least the orange coloring doesn't throw her off, and after the first sip, she knows it's as good as the Doctor promised. "I don't suppose I could get a chance to meet Premier Bardein?" the Doctor asks. He wipes some of the sauce off his chin with a cloth napkin. Hanna smiles at him in between bites of her exotic-looking salad. "As Governess for Subsection Karn, I'd be happy to arrange it. And I'm sure the Premier will be glad to have your expertise on our current troubles." The Doctor laughs. "You'd be surprised how often world leaders dread me showing up out of the blue. They call me the Oncoming Storm for good reason." Meanwhile, Veronica finishes swallowing as much of her food as she can. It tastes a bit like sushi and romaine-leaf salad, but blander. Washing it down with the last of her gerry ale makes the whole meal tolerable. But soon that creates a slight pressure on her bladder and her legs begin to get jittery. "Sorry to interrupt," she says quietly, "but I don't suppose you have a restroom nearby?" Hanna frowns. "Restroom? Do you need sleep, Miss Hyde?" "She means a toilet, Governess," the Doctor clarifies. His matter-of-fact tone causes Veronica to blush. "Oh, but of course!" Hanna pushes her plate aside and rises from the table. She magnanimously offers Veronica her hand. "This way, please."

Thanks for pointing that out. Unfortunately on my part, I didn't research that part of the Beatles' history as closely as I should've. It should be fixed to a more appropriate date now.

I'll try to have the second chapter up sometime later this week. You guessed right--I was using Kamino from Star Wars as an inspiration for the setting. And I wanted the "nanny-state world" to be more of a surprise and part of a mystery that the Doctor wants to solve, being an anti-authoritarian type. Thanks for the comments, guys, and thanks for reading!

I'm in the middle of working on a new story, sort of a fanfic for Doctor Who with ABDL themes (which I'm not sure anyone else has done yet). Anyway, I hope it's a decent attempt at capturing the Doctor mythos and a good story in general. Your feedback is most appreciated! Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all related characters are property of the BBC. Please support the official release. --- One In the interior of a vast alien vessel, everything is silent with anticipation. Two seconds later, the silence is broken with the sharp whistle of a boiling tea kettle. Veronica Hyde races into a small kitchen inside the alien vessel, still in her pajamas and her hair in curlers. As she pours the hot water into her teacup, she notices the ginger-bearded man in the tweed coat sitting at the kitchen table, reading a British newspaper and dipping biscuits into a bowl of custard. "What year is that?" Veronica asks. The Doctor chews thoughtfully on a biscuit, still reading. "1963. Some old American codger is predicting the imminent end of Beatlemania. As usual." Veronica smiles at the thought of thousands of girls screaming and shaking their heads in a frenzy. She never appreciated the band as much as her parents did, though she had a soft spot for "Yellow Submarine." "Been thinking that we've had quite a terrible run lately." The Doctor folds up his paper and looks over at his companion with a tired frown. "Cybermen, dragons, Jovian warlords--all a bit much for your first trip round the cosmos, isn't it? So I thought we might find someplace that's actually quiet for a change. Sestra Prime, year 2753." "What's that like?" Veronica adds milk and sugar, then sips her tea slowly. It's almost as good as the kind back home. Almost. "Oh, lovely planet." The Doctor's smile seems nostalgic. "No major continents. Just chains of islands on one worldwide ocean. Uses hydroponics as agriculture. Lots of self-contained, storm-proofed cities on stilts. And as I understand it, the Sestrans and the Puerin have finally reached a peace agreement. No more guerilla wars and acts of piracy." "That's a shame." Veronica grins behind her teacup. "I would liked to have met a real pirate." The Doctor shrugs. "If it means that much to you, we'll go see old Blackbeard after this." She can't help but smile, though she tries to glare at him. "You promise?" "You bet I do." --- An ethereal hum fills the air--the ringing of the Cloister Bell at the heart of the TARDIS. After weeks abroad the ship, Veronica has slowly gotten used to the sound. She's had to adjust to a lot of things lately. Like time travel. And the existence of aliens and monsters. And what her schoolteachers called a "stable domestic situation." As she changes out of her pajamas and into her cold-weather clothes, Veronica is still amazed at how normal and accepting the Doctor was. He didn't bat an eye when he found her smuggling drugs for her father's gang in the East End of London, nor did he hesitate to accept her plea to come with him when her father proceeded to disown her after she denounced his latest criminal enterprise (a nasty bit of business involving an arms sale and an agent of the Cybermen). She'd heard stories of wizards and angels all her life, but on the streets of London, she never expected them to actually mean anything--not until a cold November morning when she ran into the Doctor. Completing her all-black outfit with a white silk scarf and cap, Veronica checks herself out in the mirror and decides she likes what she sees. She can barely remember the last time she was on holiday, or at least one that didn't involve something with one of Dad's "business partners." She grins at her reflection and turns to leave the wardrobe, taking the helix staircase down to the main hold. The Doctor leans over a console at the center of the hold, fiddling with something that glows blue. The only thing he's added to his usual ensemble is a red scarf. When Veronica reaches the end of the staircase, he looks up and grins at her. "Well, well. Someone looks ready for another adventure." "I thought you said this was going to be a quiet trip, Doctor." His eyes shift quickly to the left, theatrically exaggerated. "Oh, yes. Yes, I most certainly did. I'm sure it'll be very quiet..." He clears his throat and glances back down at the console. "Very..." Slowly, the Cloister Bell lapses into silence. The TARDIS has reached its destination. Moving toward the exit, the Doctor links arms with Veronica and pushes the door open with a dramatic flourish. Outside their vessel is an endless expanse of rain and tumultous ocean waves. Veronica nearly stumbles back, but the Doctor catches her. She takes a moment to clutch her hat against the rain and realize that they're standing on a metallic pier. She turns around, looking past the police box facade of the TARDIS and sees that the dock leads into a massive geodesic dome that rises up from the waters. Its silvery surface is buffeted constantly with rain, wind, and flashes of distant lightning. At the other end of the pier, right where it meets the dome, a blank silver panel slides open, releasing a tiny spot of pure white light. The Doctor takes Veronica by the hand and they run toward the open door as quickly as they can. The wet metal plates under their boots make running a treacherous activity, but the Doctor seems to navigate the worst of it intuitively. Some kind of force field keeps the rain and wind out as the Doctor and Veronica pass through, giving them both a mild electric tingle. The door dilates shut as soon as they're inside, muffling the roar of the storm. "Hullo there!" The Doctor claps his hands together twice. Veronica turns around to see a two-meter tall woman come gliding into the pure white antechamber. Despite her human-like shape and facial features, the newcomer is distinctly alien. She wears a yellow cloak over a blue jumpsuit, which accentuates her lavender-tone skin and wispy gray hair. Something about the woman's kindly smile and regal bearing reminds Veronica of the headmistress at her old school--the sort who seemed to like children but had no actual capacity to handle them. "We are honored by your visit, Doctor," the woman replies. She claps her hands together twice and inclines her head. "The Sestran Collective remains indebted to you for your assistance." "Oh, that." The Doctor strokes his beard and glances sheepishly at Veronica. "I just happened to be passing through." "You stopped a war that had lasted for centuries." The Sestran claps her hands together once as if adding a punctuation mark. "We could never have reached our accord with the Puerin without your counsel." The Sestran's cheeks flush to a shade of pink as she turns to Veronica. "But where are my manners? Welcome to Sestrapolis. I am Hanna, Governess Third Class." "How do you do?" Veronica nearly extends her hand for a shake, then thinks better of it (having learned from the Doctor just how widely customs vary across the universe). "Veronica Hyde, Doctor's companion." "And speaking of the Puerin," the Doctor interjects, "how are relations now between the Collective and the Clans?" Governess Hanna doesn't say anything for a moment. Her cheeks flush pink again as she steps aside. When the Doctor exchanges a puzzled look with Veronica, the Sestran quietly adds, "Perhaps it would be best to show you around our city, Doctor. A lot has changed since your last visit." --- The Governess's tour leads them into a multi-directional elevator that shoots through the massive expanse of Sestrapolis. Veronica stares in wonder at the numerous walkways bridging housing units and office blocks together like the intertwining tree branches. Automated worker pods fly through the air, repairing holes in walkways and moving light cargo between the internal buildings. Every surface seems to be silver, white, or gold-trimmed. She thinks of the old 1950s view of "The Future," and how everything was going to be silver spandex, ray guns, and hovercraft. Then again, the pure white backdrop also reminds her of the local Apple Store. None of this seems to faze the Doctor. He stands between Veronica and Hanna, listening politely to the Governess's speech about peacetime industry and post-war economic stagnation. Veronica barely notices the monologue, although she does wonder how stagnant their economy would be if everything seems so shiny and expensive. Eventually, the elevator comes to a halt, as an accented male voice announces, "Level Thirty-Eight, Block Spetaa, Subsection Karn." The glass doors open and Governess Hanna leads her guests down a small gray corridor. "This is normally where I work," the Governess explains. She pauses at the end of the corridor and taps a button on the wall three times. The door beeps and slides open. Veronica feels the Doctor tremble as they look at the scene within. For all intents and purposes, it appears to be a very large nursery, complete with painted sea waves on the walls, fold-out changing tables, brightly colored plastic chairs and tables, and a row of six comically large cribs. And waddling and playing amidst these furnishings are six young men and women, all pale-skinned, brown-haired, and golden-eyed. They wear white one-piece suits that look a lot like footed pajamas and a few of them sit on the floor, contentedly sucking on pacifiers. "Do you see, Doctor?" Hanna waves at the overgrown children at play. "This is the price of our hard-won peace. Our original sin." The Doctor stares at the scene in horror. Veronica can't remember seeing him so apalled. Neither Cybermen in the East End nor dragons in medieval France could stir him up like this. "Doctor," she asks quietly, "what is it?" He frowns and shoves his hands into his coat pockets. "Veronica, these children... they're the Puerin. Or perhaps it's better to say, they were the Puerin."

I found the episode here. The reference is at 5:36.

My first reaction to this story is, naturally, shock and offense, with a mixture of pity--for both the man who feels compelled to say this and for anyone who believes what he's saying. Somewhere I'm imagining this particular pastor wandered into a pharmacy where the condoms were placed near the incontinence product aisle, and his brain suddenly went: "Contraceptives... diapers... contraceptives block reproduction... like gay sex... therefore gay men wear diapers after sex! I must tell the world!"

Well, thank you, Summertime, for reading and for your nicely-worded comment. I'm glad to know that I could meet some of my readers' expectations again. Thanks to everyone who read and commented! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday experience and I hope to provide some new story in the near-future.

Final chapter is up! Thanks for reading and commenting, everyone! Happy holidays and Merry Christmas! --- Six Christmas had never been more exciting as far as Jessica was concerned. She'd gotten to experience Andrea's calm but courageous driving as she snagged the very first open spot at the church parking lot, not more than five minutes before Mass started. She'd held hands and sang hymns with Claire, something she hadn't done since she'd moved out of her aunt's house. And while Claire and Sarah were now playing Mommy and Baby in Sarah's old room, Jessica was curled up on the couch with Andrea, chatting about life and what her aunt was like in college. At about half-past one, the doorbell rang. Jessica got up from the couch and answered the front door. Standing outside were Samantha, Ryan, and Sarah's boyfriend Brendan, all dressed warmly and cheerful. Jessica gave them all a hug and reserved a quick kiss for Ryan, though for some reason this seemed to make Samantha excited. "Jess," said Ryan, after he'd taken off his coat and hat, "there's something I'd like to talk to you about in private." Right at that moment, Andrea came up from the living room. She glanced at Jessica, smiled, and turned toward everyone else. "If you two want some space, I'm sure Claire and Sarah wouldn't mind some company." Samantha and Brendan followed her out, although Jessica didn't miss the eager grin that Samantha flashed her before leaving. She frowned in response, but let Ryan take her by the hand and guide her back toward the couch. Her suspicions got worse when she noticed Ryan's expression. He seemed incredibly nervous, which was unlike him. He couldn't stop brushing at his hair or fiddling with something in his pocket. Still, Jessica found it a little funny that their roles were reserved for once, with him being nervous and her being patient. She kept her hand on his wrist and waited for him to settle down. "I want you to know," he said softly, finally turning to face her, "that I've just reached a pretty big decision. You remember that promotion I got last month?" "I do." Jessica had been very excited for him. He had gone from being a simple theater attendant to an actual manager, with a great salary bump and a lot more benefits. In her opinion, it had been six years overdue, but she was happy that he'd gotten the raise all the same, even if it meant less time together on weekends. Ryan gently squeezed her hand, as if drawing strength from it. "It's made me think about the direction I want my life to take. I've got my own place, my own career, and a fantastic girlfriend." He paused while Jessica blushed at that sentiment. "And, as hard as it was for you, the way you handled things with your dad really touched me. It made me think about my future in a way I hadn't before. Like... if I want to have a family of my own someday." Jessica went very still. She almost couldn't breathe. "Ryan, are you...?" "I had to clear it with my parents first," he said quickly. "And with Sam, too. I know how close you two are, how she'd want to protect your feelings. But I think I'm finally ready..." She gasped as he slowly took his other hand from out of his pocket. In his palm was a tiny jewel box. Her heart was racing as he slid off the couch, got down on one knee, and opened it. "Jessica," said Ryan, holding out the engagement ring, "will you marry me?" For what seemed like the fifth time in three days, Jessica's eyes were filling up with tears. Her heart was beating so fast it was hurting her chest. She let out a gentle sob, then whispered, "Yes!" Then the ring was on her finger, his arms were tight around her, and their lips were sealed together. As they pulled away, Jessica suddenly became aware that they weren't alone. She glanced up and saw the smiling faces of her friends and family. With a wordless cry, she showed them the ring and was suddenly showered with hugs and kisses from Claire, Sarah, Andrea, and Samantha. Brendan and Ryan laughed and shook hands before Claire reached over and pulled Ryan into a sudden hug. "It's about time I got a nephew to spoil," she remarked, drawing a laugh from everyone. Jessica, meanwhile, was all but smothered in the arms of her cousin and her best friend. It wasn't lost on her that Sarah was still wearing a diaper underneath her skirt, so she discreetly reached down and patted her on the butt. This made Sarah laugh and kiss her on the cheek in retaliation. "Andrea, dear," Claire was saying, "how many grandnieces do you think we should get? Three or four?" "Definitely four," Andrea replied. She ruffled Ryan's hair when she noticed his embarrassed expression. Jessica couldn't stop smiling. She had never felt so happy before. There were no bad memories trying to fight their way up or anxious jitters to make her feel self-conscious. She just smiled and snuggled up against her cousin--and soon-to-be maid of honor. This is my family now, she thought. This is all the love I need. THE END

I'm glad you thought so. I'd always wanted to write a holiday story and decided to take a chance with this one. Thank you! I'm you'll like tomorrow's final chapter (and maybe future sequel?) just as much.

Five Almost half an hour later, Ryan was carrying Jessica in his arms as they entered her apartment. When she noticed and commented on the fact that both her roommate and her cousin were absent, Ryan answered with, "They said they wanted to give you some space." Jessica frowned. "I don't need space. I just need time. Time to figure things out--to figure myself out." Ryan stopped outside the door to her room and gave Jessica a quick kiss. "It's okay, Jess. I'll make sure you get plenty of that. Claire threatened me a long time ago if I ever stopped being your perfect boyfriend." The thought of Claire towering over Ryan with righteous fury made Jessica smile--not because he deserved it, but because that image didn't fit her aunt too well. "I'm sure she was only kidding." Then again, Jessica thought, she wasn't kidding around when she found out about Mom and me... Gently, Ryan carried her all the way to her bed and let her down. Jessica immediately began to remove her shoes and pants while Ryan went to get a clean diaper and some baby wipes. She felt warm enough to remove her jacket as well and let it drop to the floor. Although they hadn't done it as often, Jessica was always glad to see that Ryan knew how to change her. He started by slipping a small towel from her dresser under her bottom, then reaching up to gently rip off the tapes of her diaper. As he removed the soiled garment and rolled it up, Jessica noted the quiet way in which he did it. He did a lot of things quietly, from answering the phone to making love. It was one of his quirks that she'd grown fond of over the years. The baby wipe he used was cold but fresh as he cleaned between her legs. Jessica tried to stare up at the ceiling while he did it. Her head was still abuzz with random feelings about the Coffee Cafe and her life before that moment, like everything had to be reexamined and justified again. Ryan, meanwhile, stuck the used wipes inside the rolled-up diaper and sprinkled some powder onto her, rubbing it in with two fingers as softly as he could. Normally, this was a part where they could have been more sexually active, but Jessica wasn't in any mood for it and Ryan seemed to understand that. He unfolded the clean diaper and slid it under her. She finally looked up at him as he pulled the front up and taped it on with care. He'd make a good dad, she thought. But would I make a good mom? Do I even deserve to be a mother...? "Jess?" Ryan frowned and touched her cheek. "Hey, it's okay. Don't cry." She hadn't realized she'd started crying. It was like wetting herself uncontrollably--something she'd done a lot of after Claire adopted her and had slowly learned to overcome. It made her wonder how many sessions with Dr. Faraday it would take this time before she could regain her emotional balance and that only made her feel even worse. Ryan bent down and kissed her on the cheek, which made Jessica forget about her problems for the briefest of moments. She pulled him onto the bed and let herself be cuddled, her tears soaking into his shirt collar. His hand fell softly onto the back of her diaper, patting it lovingly as he leaned in and kissed her deeply. This is my family now, Jessica thought, her eyes closing as she sank into his arms. This is all the love I need... --- The next day was Christmas Eve, for which Jessica was grateful to see at last. With Samantha over at her parents' house, Jessica and Sarah were gathered with their family at Claire and Andrea's home. It was nice to see Sarah's parents again and Jessica took a lot of pride on Samantha's behalf when her Uncle Tom complimented them on finding the same tablecloth that Grandma Rose had used for the holidays. It was also a happy occasion for Jessica because she had gone back to sticking a pad inside her underwear instead of wearing a diaper. Despite the insistence of Sarah, Samantha, and Ryan, she hadn't enjoyed spending almost an entire day in a diaper, saying it felt like she was being lazy about her urinary control. They argued that she'd earned the right to be so lazy, but Jessica had held firm and gotten away with a pad. While Claire went back and forth serving drinks and snacks to her guests, Jessica and Sarah hung out in the kitchen, with the latter cutting up vegetables and the former tossing the salad. Jessica thought Sarah looked rather cute, having chosen to wear a flowing purple skirt and a rose-colored blouse. She'd even put her hair up in a bun like Aunt Laura. "I have to say, Jess," Sarah remarked while she steamed the green beans, "I'm very proud of what you did yesterday." Jessica looked over from her salad bowl and smiled. "It's only been the third time you've said that, but thanks again." "Well, I'm sorry, but it's true." Sarah stopped to turn down the heat on the bean pot before walking over to her cousin. "I can still remember how you reacted when you found out my... interests." She blushed at the last word. It still amazed Jessica how much Sarah tiptoed around mentioning that day, like she was afraid she'd send her into a violent flashback. Jessica decided not to address her concern directly. Instead, she put down the salad tongs and threw her arms around Sarah. Her cousin was taken aback, but soon returned the hug. "Thanks," Jessica murmured. "For what?" "For never making me feel like an only child when I was growing up." Sarah kissed her on the cheek and tightened her grip. "Same to you, sweetie. My cute baby sister." Jessica chuckled and stepped back to regard her cousin. "Excuse me? I'm not the 'sister' who sucks on a pacifier and wears diapers and a bib." "Okay, okay." Sarah brushed at Jessica's hair and laughed. "How about my cute babysitter?" "Better." Jessica pulled her into another hug and then went back to tossing the salad. With impeccable timing, Claire came into the kitchen, carrying three empty wineglasses. "Okay, girls. How's the food looking? Made with love and care, I hope?" Jessica nodded. "Seems that way. We're just about done." Claire set down the glasses in the sink, then leaned over squeeze Jessica's shoulder. "Good to hear, my little Christmas present." "Oh, I was going to ask," Sarah chimed in. "What time did you want to go to Mass tomorrow?" "Nine AM, I think. Fortunately, Andrea will be driving, so I know she'll get us the best parking spot in the middle of all that traffic." "Okay." Sarah glanced out of the kitchen, then turned back to add in a conspiratorial whisper, "Because I was wondering if we could do some roleplay tomorrow before we go to Mom and Dad's house." Claire reached out and took her older niece by the hand. "I think we can arrange something. A little alone time with your Mommy, perhaps?" Sarah nodded, then glanced past her aunt at Jessica. "If that's okay with you?" "Sure," said Jessica, smiling. "I actually don't get to spend much time alone with Andy, so it'll be nice to have that." Claire turned and held out her other hand for Jessica to take. "That would mean a lot to the both of us, sweetheart." Her smile faltered for just a moment. "Also, I'm sorry I didn't get to say this earlier, but... I am glad you got to talk to your father yesterday." "Me, too." "I really don't like revisiting the past, as I know you don't either. It really does help to see that you're very mature about how you've handled things." To Jessica's surprise, she saw tears glistening in her aunt's eyes. It was confirmed when Claire briefly turned away to mask a quiet sniffle. Sarah gave her cousin a questioning look. Jessica nodded and they both moved in to embrace Claire. She let herself be held, slowly recovering from her tears--right up until the timer on the stove buzzed. The three women laughed awkwardly as Sarah rushed to get out the steamed green beans from the pot. Jessica held onto Claire for a little while longer, glad to know that they could still laugh and talk when they needed it the most.

Four The clock ticking on the wall was a familiar sound for Jessica, just as the rough fabric of her armchair was a familiar feel. She had spent a good portion of her life in this place, almost as much as she'd been to school, the movies, and the mall with her friends. "I'm glad you could fit me in today," she said softly, looking up from her hands. Dr. Megan Faraday smiled back. Like Claire, she had gotten noticeably older as well. There was more gray in her hair and lines under her eyes, but otherwise she seemed the same as ever. "I'm always happy to have you, Jessica. It's encouraging to see how much progress you've made since we first started." Jessica nodded. For nearly eighteen years, she had been coming to Dr. Faraday once a week--and in some cases, more often than that. She had cried and given her the silent treatment, she had learned to speak about her feelings and her memories, and she had become used to having on a wet diaper while she listened to her therapist's advice. It said a lot about her life that she could now sit upright and focused with Dr. Faraday, having only to wear a protective pad under her skirt. "So," the other woman said, clasping her hands together, "about your father..." "Well, I..." Jessica bit down on her lip. "I'm meeting with him later today. I don't know what I say to him. I don't know how I should feel. Whether I should mad at him or... try to forgive him?" "Forgiveness is not an easy thing," Dr. Faraday answered. She usually didn't smile when she addressed Jessica's concerns, although her voice was always full of sympathy. "You'd have to be willing to understand him, to appreciate why he did what he did to you and your mother. Certainly, if your relationship with him is something that hurts you more than it helps you, then maybe forgiving him might not be possible and you shouldn't feel guilty about that." Fighting the urge to curl up into a fetal position like she did in the old days, Jessica smoothed out her hands on her lap. "I know that I never really forgave my mother, but I'd like to think I can understand her. That she was mentally ill and didn't..." She bit her lip again before continuing. "She didn't recognize me as her own daughter anymore." "It helped that your aunt wanted you to not grow up bitter about what happened, didn't it?" Jessica nodded. "She was the same yesterday. I knew she was angry about Dad, but..." She managed to smile. "She seemed willing to let me go and talk to him, even if she never could do the same." Dr. Faraday smiled back. "One of the most important steps you'll take as an adult is being able to do things for your own reasons rather than doing them to meet the expectations of your family or your friends. It goes without saying that this reunion might not be the easiest thing to face, but I think your decision to go through with it at all is itself a sign of how well you're doing." "Thank you, Megan." "You're very welcome." --- For the second time that week, Jessica walked into the mall atrium. She saw the Christmas decorations and the children gathered outside Santa's workshop. Her heart raced as she looked ahead, but she soon realized that the mall Santa wasn't her father. In a strange way, it was a relief to know that he hadn't lied about getting the day off. "I know I said this before, but you're easiest the bravest person I know." Ryan walked alongside Jessica, holding tight onto her hand. "I couldn't imagine facing my dad if he'd done this to my mom and me." "Thanks." Jessica squeezed his hand as they left the atrium and went down toward the Coffee Cafe. "You didn't have to drive me, you know." "I wanted to, Jess." Ryan pushed one hand through his dark, spiky hair. "I guess I still haven't forgiven myself, you know?" Jessica didn't need to be reminded. There had been a time in their relationship early on, after Ryan had gone on vacation in Europe, when they couldn't be as close as they'd liked. Ryan had admitted he'd had a fling with a pair of French teenagers, a boy and a girl, who'd gotten him drunk and shamed him into silence. He'd punished himself more than Jessica ever could--not that she'd wanted to punish him. She herself had been feeling guilty about her apprehension over Claire's new relationship with Andrea. But Ryan had eventually come around, guilty not just for his affair in France but for not supporting Jessica through her own crisis. He was incredibly kindhearted like that, if a bit humorless at times. Slowly, they reached the Coffee Cafe. And sure enough, there was her father, sitting by himself with a cup of coffee and wearing just a baseball jacket and jeans. He didn't notice Jessica or Ryan, but stared pensively into his drink. "I can take it from here," Jessica said softly, slowly letting go of Ryan's hand. He nodded and bent down to kiss her gently. She returned the kiss, grateful that he'd come, and watched him walk away. She'd promised to call him on his cell phone when she was done, so that he wouldn't get in the way of her reunion. With a deep breath, Jessica turned back around and walked inside. She kept her hands in her pockets and waited for her father to look up. "Hi, honey," he murmured. "Hi, Dad," she replied, then sat down at the table. Her father didn't look her in the eye, but said quietly, "Can I... get you something to drink?" She shook her head. "No, thank you." It was just well, she decided. She didn't want to take in any fluids and risking having an accident based on some traumatic flashback like in the old days. Just to be on the safe side, Sarah and Samantha had put a diaper on her--the first one she'd worn during the day in over five years. "I know I never called or visited," her father said, smoothing back his hair just like Ryan had done earlier. "I was ashamed. I was so embarrassed about leaving you and your mother that I figured it was better if I never showed up again." "You could have come back," Jessica said softly. She still hadn't taken her hands out of her pockets. "I know Aunt Claire wouldn't have liked it, but the rest of the family might've..." Her father shook his head. "To be honest, it was Claire who I was the most ashamed to see again. Did she ever tell you about us?" Jessica closed her eyes against the memory of that conversation. "She did." "You see, I was wanted to be with your mother, but... I had feelings for Claire. And I never felt like your mother really loved me. She took care of you and me, but I was never happy with her." He frowned. "She had... mood swings. She was convinced that everyone was against her. And I just couldn't take it anymore. I left after I talked to Claire and she rejected me." "And you left me." Jessica was surprised at how cold her voice had become. "You left me with that woman." Her hands became fists inside her jacket. "Do you even know what she did to me? Did you ever bother to find out?" "No." Her father seemed hurt to admit it. "I never did." "I spent a whole month trapped at home," Jessica continued, her voice staying cold and hard despite the fire in her heart. "A whole month of sleeping in a crib. Being put back into diapers. Being bathed in ice-cold water. Being beaten whenever I tried to talk back. And the whole time, she blamed you. She blamed you and she made me suffer for it. It was only because of Claire that I got out of it. It was only after ten years that I got my life back and you never once showed up, Dad." As she spoke, she felt her memories of that horrible period come rushing back. With a few deep breaths, she was able to keep the memories at bay, but that didn't help her physical control much. She could feel herself dribbling into her diaper--not enough to cause a leak, but enough to remind her of how easily she used to wet herself. "They had Mom committed," Jessica said quietly, her rage slowly giving way to sorrow and a tight feeling in the back of her throat. "Did you know that? I never saw her again. I don't know what she's like now, if she's better... if she would even recognize me..." She had to stop and briefly wipe tears from her eyes. "I don't blame you for not seeing the signs or wanting to stay. But I don't know that it's a good idea for you to be back in my life. At least, not right now." Her father nodded. "I deserve that. If that's how you really feel, then I guess there's not much point in hanging around." He slowly got up from the table and took his half-empty coffee cup with him. "I know it may not mean much anymore, but... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from her. And I'm sorry I made Claire so miserable." Jessica felt her cheeks redden. She'd expected apologies and remorse, but she felt drained and vulnerable after her diatribe. It was like the anger had cleaned itself out of her and now she saw her father for what he was: a tired old man who couldn't run away anymore. "Do..." She bit down on her lip to steady her nerves, then looked up at him. "Do you have anywhere to go for Christmas?" Her father nodded. "I live five miles east of downtown. I..." He ducked his head, looking ashamed again. "I got remarried a few years ago. Her name's Beth. We had a son named Jason. He's almost four years old." The thought that Jessica had a half-brother filled her with both curiosity and disgust. She fought to keep any hostile reaction from showing on her face when she added, "Are they happy? With you, I mean." "Happy enough, I suppose." In spite of herself and her memories, Jessica couldn't resist a wry smile. "No signs of mental illness yet?" Her father cracked a smile of his own. She realized that he'd hardly smiled once since they met. "They seem to be fine. For now, anyway." "Good. That's good to hear." They suddenly couldn't look each other in the eye, as if the familiar tone they'd adopted was something taboo. Jessica took a few more breaths, managed to stop herself from wetting her diaper any further, and looked her father dead in the eye. "Will you wish them Merry Christmas for me?" she said in all seriousness. Her father nodded solemnly. "I will." "Thanks, Dad. And... Merry Christmas to you, too." He nodded and slowly walked out of the coffee shop without saying another word or looking back. Jessica felt something clench inside her heart as she watched him leave--like she was reliving his departure all over again--but she remembered that this time was different. This time, there was no crazed mother to punish her or fierce young aunt to rescue her. She just had to stand on her own feet and keep moving forward.

Thank you!

Three "Happy holidays! Welcome to Back of the Closet! Anything I can help you find? We're having a Twelve Days Before Christmas special on all seasonal clothing and shoes...!" This was the refrain that Jessica and the four other girls working the fashion boutique had to repeat ad nauseam. And just as humiliating, they had to either wear a Santa hat or a headband with reindeer antlers with their usual store uniforms. Still, at least the store wasn't lacking either customers or sales as the Christmastime rush went on. Jessica spent most of her days either working one of the two registers or rapidly refilling shelves and racks with new inventory. After the third day of the holiday rush, she learned to cope with having to wear reindeer antlers on her head. At the moment, she was quickly but calmly laying out some sweaters and t-shirts in the back shelves. Samantha was also in the back, going over each item with a handheld price scanner. She flashed a smile at Jessica as she approached her shelf. At least she seemed more dignified with a Santa hat on her head. "Hey," she said, her hand automatically scanning prices as she moved over, "aren't you supposed to be on break now?" Jessica folded up another sweater and shrugged. "In about a minute or so." "So go already. No one's stopping you." "It's okay. I'm still working off my morning caffeine buzz." Samantha nodded. "Okay, then. I'm taking my break now, then. I'll be outside smoking a cigarette. Join me or not, it's entirely up to you." Jessica laughed and shoved in the last three sweaters in her pile. "I'll be out in a little bit, Sam." Her friend smiled and playfully flashed her with the scanner before leaving. As Jessica turned to go to the breakroom, she felt her phone vibrate inside her pocket. Frowning, she pulled out her phone and glanced down at the screen. She had one new message on Facebook. Glancing around, Jessica saw that the store was quiet for ten in the morning and went as quickly as she could to the breakroom, which was empty. She took a seat at the nearest table and read the message. Jessica, I know you can never forgive me, but I had to get in touch with you. There's so much I wanted to tell you and so much about you and your mother that I want to hear. I'm taking tomorrow off at the mall. If you can, please meet me at the Coffee Cafe on the second floor at 4 PM. If you don't come or reply to this message, I understand why and wouldn't hold it against you. But I just want to talk, that's all. Merry Christmas, Dad For a moment, she thought the screen resolution on her phone was bugging out. But then she realized that it was just her eyes filling up with tears again. --- That evening, Jessica and Samantha drove down the street to Claire's house. Sarah was off with her boyfriend Lewis, while Andrea had called and made plans for the two girls to have dinner with them and bring over the supplies they'd bought at the mall. It was with a mixture of joy and anxiety that Jessica sat in the passenger seat of her and Samantha's car on the ride over. She tried to take her mind off her troubles by focusing on the cold, clear night sky outside her window, but she could still see her own haunted reflection in the glass. Samantha pulled up into Claire's driveway and helped Jessica carry the bags out from their trunk. It seemed surreal to Jessica that this place had been her home for over ten years, and in many ways, a better home than the first one she'd had with her parents. But thinking of her parents meant thinking about her father, and that was a line of thought she didn't want to follow just yet. Andrea opened the door and welcomed them in. She gave Samantha and Jessica each a hug, smiling happily at the sight of their shopping bags. "This'll be perfect," she said, taking them from the girls and going off to the kitchen. "Claire, dear, your girls have arrived!" Jessica was in the middle of taking off her jacket when her aunt walked into the room. Claire had gotten older in ways that Jessica could begin to appreciate. There were a few wrinkles in her face, her hair was cut short, and she always had a pair of reading glasses handy. She still dressed in the same lovely clothes as before, even if she tended to favor comfortable sweaters and slacks more and more. But from the moment she walked into the room, Claire had only to see her niece and smile for Jessica to remember that this was the same woman who'd once pulled her out of a crib and fought for her future. "Jess, Sam! How are you, darlings?" Claire came up and swept the two girls into a hug. Jessica sank into her embrace and returned it with a kiss to her cheek. As they pulled away, Claire held her niece at arm's length and sighed. "You both look wonderful. Did you have a salon trip without me?" "Not that I'm aware of," Samantha replied. She glanced at Jessica, winked, and added, "Excuse me, but I have to make a short bathroom trip before we catch up." Claire smiled and patted her shoulder. "Go on ahead." As Samantha left the living room, Claire held Jessica's arm and led her to the couch. They sat down, giving Jessica enough time to sort through her feelings. She wanted to say so much to her aunt that it was threatening to spill out at once. "Is something wrong, dear?" Claire asked. Her face grew lined with worry--an expression Jessica had become all too familiar with while she was growing up. "You seem upset." "It's about the shopping trip we had yesterday," Jessica mumbled. She couldn't even look her aunt in the face. It was easier to stare down at her hands. Claire put her arm around the girl's shoulders and squeezed lightly. "Tell me about it." --- By the time she finished explaining her dilemma, Jessica didn't feel any better. If anything, she felt worse. It was Claire's reaction that did it. The older woman's face was a mask of pain and anger, something that Jessica had only seen once before--when Claire had confronted her delusional sister, Jessica's mother, and realized that her niece couldn't live under the same roof as that madwoman. Since then, she had hardly ever raised her voice in Jessica's presence. She still didn't raise her voice, though it sounded like she wanted to. "He doesn't deserve it," she whispered. "He doesn't deserve to waltz back into your life like that. He could have stepped forward anytime. He could have found out what was going on. And he didn't. If nothing else, I can't forgive him for that, Jess. Do you understand?" Jessica nodded. "I do, Aunt Claire. But that doesn't answer my question. Should I still meet with him?" Claire frowned and looked her in the eyes. "Do you think you can handle meeting him face-to-face?" "I walked up to him in the mall, didn't I?" "But you couldn't handle it. You had to have Sam take you home." Jessica watched as her aunt shook her head, sniffling, and put her hand on the young woman's cheek. "I just don't want you to be hurt anymore. But I guess I can't keep holding you back, can I?" Those words cut Jessica deeply. She could still remember her last major episode, right after she'd caught her aunt changing Sarah's diaper and something in her psyche saw her cousin as a threat, a trigger that unleashed all her bad memories of her mother's abuse. Recovering from that day had made Jessica realize how much she'd used her past and Claire's love to isolate herself from the world and all the joys and pains of new experiences. In the present, all she could do was reach out and take her aunt by the hand. "You never held me back. I was just too scared to move forward. And to be honest... I don't want to be scared anymore." Claire nodded. "So you'll meet him then?" Jessica hesitated for the slightest moment, then nodded back. "I think I will." Her aunt smiled sadly. Jessica found herself reaching out and receiving another hug, which she returned just as strongly. She felt Claire kissing the top of her head and whispering, "I really do love you, baby. Whatever happens, I'll be here, okay? I'll be here..." "I know, Claire, I know." Jessica rested in her arms, completely unfazed by the tiny trickle that she let out into her bladder pad. She squirmed and sighed, then looked her aunt in the eye. "Thanks for understanding." "Anytime, sweetheart."

Two Samantha had to take Jessica by the arm and lead her out the mall. This didn't stop Jessica from looking over her shoulder as her father put on his fake beard and Santa hat. He seemed glum for just the tiniest moment, then let out a deep-bellied "Ho! Ho! Ho!" as he came out for all the children to see. To her credit, Samantha didn't say a word as she guided her friend through the parking lot and into their car. It was just as fortunate that she'd been driving, so she made sure they got home on time, but it was a long and awkwardly silent car ride home. As they pulled into the parking garage of their apartment building, Jessica finally twitched and spoke up. "He looked so old..." "What's that?" Samantha set the parking brake as she pulled into their reserved space. She looked worried. "Dad looked so old." Samantha nodded and put her hand on Jessica's arm. "Do you want me to get Sarah?" Jessica shook her head. "No, I... I can walk. I think." After linking arms with Samantha, she was able to get up two flights of stairs with their shopping bags. They made it to their apartment door, No. Two-Twenty-Seven, and Samantha held the door open for her friend, for which she was grateful. Inside their humble apartment, the aroma of fruit salad and hot meatballs was strong. Jessica glanced into the kitchenette and saw that dinner had already been made: three plates of salad with spaghetti and meatballs alongisde three glasses of red wine. She managed a smile, then continued down the hall to her bedroom. Her cousin Sarah was waiting inside. She was sitting on one of the two beds, wearing nothing but a blue t-shirt and a diaper. It was one of her specially ordered adult diapers, the kind with customized baby prints on the front and two large tapes. Despite being thirty-one, she was sucking on a pacifier, had tied her dark hair into pigtails, and was clutching a white teddy bear to her chest. The moment she saw Jessica's expression, Sarah took the pacifier out of her mouth and frowned. "What's wrong, sweetie?" Jessica didn't say anything. She slowly took off her jacket, dropped it on the floor, and went to sit down next to Sarah. Her cousin set the bear down and put a comforting arm around Jessica's shoulders. "I saw Dad today," she finally managed to say. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "You saw Uncle Scott?" Sarah put her other arm around Jessica, as if trying to shield her from her memories. "At the mall?" "He was... the mall Santa. He recognized me, Sarah." "What did he say?" "He..." Jessica blinked, feeling tears threatening to spill. "He said he was sorry. I... I couldn't look at him after that. So I left." Sarah didn't say anything. She put her head on her cousin's shoulder and pulled her into a deep hug. Jessica let herself be held, grateful that she never had to really talk like this with Sarah. They'd been through so much together, especially in the hard first years after Claire had adopted her. "Jess?" Samantha knocked on the doorframe before sticking her head in. "Oh, hey Sarah. Either of you feeling hungry right now?" Sarah lifted her head and smiled. "What do you think, dear? Would you like to eat now or wait til later?" Jessica shook her head. "I'll wait, I guess. Maybe in an hour... if that's all right?" Samantha smiled. "You bet. I'll be out here if you need anything." She nodded at Sarah and then closed the door quietly behind her. Slowly, Sarah shifted herself onto her back behind Jessica, her diaper crinkling as she moved. Jessica moved over and let her cousin pull her down into a reclining position on the bed. She felt better being with the older woman, even if that woman was dressed up like a baby girl. It was easy to forget sometimes that she spent most of her day in a casual business suit, managing copy writers for Amber Prescott PR. --- Time passed and it got darker and later outside their bedroom window. Jessica drifted asleep a few times. When she woke back up for the third time, she noticed on her alarm clock that it was nearly eight-thirty. Sarah was almost asleep next to her, but she seemed to come around about the same time. "Um, Sarah?" Jessica squirmed and gestured down at her pants. "If it's not too much trouble, I could use your help getting changed." Her cousin nodded and sat up. She stretched out her arms, yawned, and looked down at Jessica with a sleepy smile. "Mm, okay. Did you want a fresh pad or should I get you a diaper instead?" "Bit early for a diaper, don't you think?" "Not really." Sarah patted Jessica on the stomach. "You've had a rough day. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted a quiet evening." Jessica thought about that, decided it was appealing, and nodded her consent. She watched Sarah get off the bed and go waddling over to the dresser. Even after seven odd years, it was still amusing to see her older, more responsible cousin moving so carefree in a diaper and oversized baby clothes. It was a side of Sarah she had grown to love, even if she didn't fully appreciate Sarah's enjoyment of diapers. They were something Jessica used to manage her condition, like how a person with a cold needed to use tissues. Still, it was comforting to have them when she needed them and far better to wake up in a wet diaper than a wet bed. Sarah came back with a diaper and a bottle of talcum powder in hand. Jessica stretched herself out on the bed and removed her shoes and jeans. She let Sarah help her slide off her white cotton underwear and the little bladder pad tucked away inside. "I hate to bring this up," Sarah was saying as she unfolded the diaper and slid it under Jessica, "but do you think you ought to bring up your dad with Claire tomorrow?" Jessica frowned. "Um, I don't know. Maybe I should. What do you think?" Sarah mulled over the question while she sprinkled some powder over her cousin. "Well, I think Claire might have some good insight. She's probably thought a lot about how things broke down for your parents when she was taking care of you." "You don't remember hearing her discuss anything after she adopted me?" "Sorry, kiddo. I was pretty young then and didn't know what was going on. All I heard was that Aunt Madison and Uncle Scott weren't in our family anymore." They fell silent as Sarah finished taping up the diaper and adjusting it for a better fit. After she handed Jessica back her pants, she moved toward the door. "Well," Jessica said, still pulling her pants up over her diaper, "Claire's never been shy about talking about those times with me. I guess I'll just have to ask her." "And whatever you do, Jess, I'll be right behind you." Sarah took her by the hand as she stood up and they went out to join Samantha for a late dinner.

At long last, I've decided to write a third "Life with Claire" story, with one chapter each day from now until Christmas Eve. Consider it my gift to all of you who liked my original stories. --- One The atmosphere inside the mall was electric with the holiday shopping frenzy. Whole families and troupes of friends rushed past each other through the aisles and escalators of every Macy's and Sears store, filling the air with the sound of kids laughing and crying while the same twelve Christmas songs were played on an endless loop. Through the chaos engulfing the first-floor Macy's, Jessica walked with a clear purpose. She kept one hand stuck in the pocket of her fur-collared jacket and the other hand tightly gripping the shopping list she'd received from her Aunt Claire earlier that morning. She'd known how insane it was to try and find any Christmas dinner supplies at this time of the season, but she had to try. The whole family was counting on it. From her left, she heard someone call out, "Jess! I got it!" Jessica turned and saw her friend Samantha come weaving and dodging through the thickest part of the shopping crowd. Samantha wasn't hard to miss, wearing a bright red pea coat and a white scarf trailing around her neck. The demented grin on her face brought a smile to Jessica's as she came to meet her friend halfway across the aisle. "You won't believe it," Samantha said, panting for breath as she came to a halt, "but I got the last one." She held up a beautiful tablecloth inside a square plastic package--the reindeer-embroidered tablecloth her grandmother used to have many Christmases ago. Jessica's grin widened. "That's fantastic! So how many older women did you have to fight off for it?" "Only a dozen," Samantha replied with a flippant shrug. She tucked the package under her arm and slid her other arm around Jessica's waist. "That's put us almost halfway done, am I right?" "We just need to get to Sears before all the cooking ware disappears." Jessica consulted her list and nodded. "With any luck, we should be done before six and back home in time for dinner." "Great!" Samantha led Jessica toward the front of the store. "And maybe then, we'll see if Sarah will be up for some roleplaying." Jessica considered that for a moment. Then she let out a satisfied smile and answered, "I think that'd be nice. Let's hope she's not too tired for it." "Say, Jess..." Samantha leaned in with a serious expression. "Sorry to bring this up, but... do you need a break to go change?" Jessica smiled and shook her head. "I'm fine, Sam. But thanks for asking." "Sorry. Old habit." "I still think it's sweet." --- It had been almost seven years since Jessica had finally gotten out of diapers. Like most girls, she had been toilet trained and out of diapers by the age of four, but things had conspired to go badly in her life after that. Her father suddenly leaving had caused her mother's mind to finally snap, and she'd taken out her rage on poor Jessica, who'd been forced back into diapers and treated like a baby for several weeks. It was only by Providence that her mother's younger sister Claire had steppped in and rescued Jessica from that wide-awake nightmare, although the damage had been done. For the next ten years, Jessica had to struggle with all manner of trauma. Emotionally-triggered flashbacks. An inability to be close with anyone except her Aunt Claire, her cousin Sarah, and her friend Samantha. And of course, the fact that she was completely incontinent. Being a teenager who still had to wear diapers had been particularly humiliating, even if she was fortunate enough that no one except for Samantha and the school nurses ever knew about them. Eventually, though, things got better. Jessica had been able to confront some of her worst traumas after an episode involving Sarah, who had just come out to their aunt about her diaper fetish. She also had found a boyfriend, Ryan, whose sympathy had overtaken his apprehension about the issue of her diapers. Claire herself had finally been able to move on from being simply Jessica's guardian and, after some soul-searching, had also come out of the closet. Now Jessica and Sarah had a whole new aunt, Andrea, Claire's old college roommate and current partner. Everything changed after that. Jessica, Sarah, and Samantha were able to get their own apartment with the help of Claire and Andrea. While Sarah got a promotion at her PR job, Jessica and Samantha went to work for a fashion boutique on Main Street. And most important for Jessica was the fact that she had begun to regain proper bladder and bowel control, having only to wear a diaper at night and getting by with a bladder pad in her underwear by day. But there were also sad developments, too. Just three months prior, Grandma Rose had passed away in her sleep at the age of eighty-nine. After the funeral, it was decided that Claire and Andy would have Christmas Eve dinner at their home for the very first time and the usual Christmas Day party at Sarah's parents' house. This was why Jessica was so urgent about getting everything that day at the mall. Her Aunt Claire was her second mother--her only real mother, as far as she was concerned--and she didn't want to disappoint her in making this Christmas as special as all the others. --- At close to five-thirty that day, Jessica had crossed the final item off her list. She handed the list to Samantha, who promptly crumpled it up and tossed it over her shoulder into a trash can behind her. And with that, they declared their holiday shopping over at last. On their way out of the mall, they passed by the Santa Claus workshop in the atrium, where there was still a decent-sized line of children waiting their turn. Samantha noticed one of Santa's elves was a tall guy with a pencil-thin beard and very cute eyes, though despite her efforts, she couldn't seem to attract his attention at the head of the line. "Nice, Sam," Jessica commented. "Now I finally know what to get you for Christmas." "Plus he's one of Santa's elves, so you know he's good at making presents," Samantha exclaimed in between giggles. "He's the gift that keeps on giving!" Jessica had to stifle a groan behind her lips as she grabbed her friend's elbow to lead her away. But then she heard over her shoulder someone say, "It's okay, Ritchie, I'm off break now..." Something about the voice struck her as familiar. She turned around and saw a man in a Santa suit emerge from behind the workshop, out of sight of the kids. He was holding a thick white beard in one hand and a Santa hat in the other, but it was his face that drew Jessica's eye. She knew his face. The hair was grayer, the skin was more lined, and the eyes were sunken, but there was no doubt it was him. Jessica slowly approached, hands clenched into fists inside her jacket. As she came up, the man glanced her way and froze. His eyes went wide at the sight of her. "J-Jessica," he mumbled, nearly dropping the fake beard. "God, honey... it's really you, isn't it?" Despite the nervous trickle her bladder released into her padded underwear, Jessica didn't flinch. She kept her hands tight and answered, "Hi, Dad. How've you been?"

Regular underwear suits me just fine. I prefer wearing a diaper to be a special occasion (plus, I save money by not having to buy a a package of diapers every other week).