return to Chapter Three

If Joe had to make a list of his most valuable traits, he'd put "adaptable" just after "well-hung", "likes getting fucked", "masochist", and "good with tongue"; slightly above "trained valet" and way above "can avoid burning toast". He's had to deal with everything from the de Rothschilds' impeccably managed and strictly regimented household to the storm of chaos that surrounded Master Downey (especially when he was high), and it's never taken him more than a couple of days to figure out how things worked. He has no problem with lax protocol, but Jason and David really are taking the casual thing too far. It just feels weird to be sitting alone in the back seat of the car while one of his masters is driving and the other's riding shotgun. He's wondered more than once how these two have managed to make as much money as they have while still being utterly clueless.

Jason turns the car onto a side street lined with trees and parks in front of a house painted an odd shade of green. For a moment, Joe's afraid Jason's going to try to open the door for him but he manages to unbuckle his seat belt and get out before Jason can come around to the side.

They're greeted at the front door by a tiny, cute girl wearing a slim collar. She clearly knows David and Jason, because she gives David a big hug, and Jason picks her up off the floor and squeezes her tightly.

"Paul said to tell you he'll be calling," Jason says, and her face lights up. She gives Joe a curious look as she ushers the three of them upstairs, but doesn't ask any questions.

The dining room is set up in the Japanese style that's so trendy in Northern California at the moment. Joe counts six people sitting on cushions around the low table, all but two of them with laptops or PDA's in front of them. A tall, thin woman bounces up from her seat and hugs David and Jason. "We were wondering when you were going to show up. Who's--oh, hmm." Head tilted to one side, she studies Joe. This is familiar, and easy; Joe gives her a half-smile and slouches just a bit.

"Right...Joe, this is Torri; starting that side of the table is Claire, Rachel, Kavan, and Jewel, who showed us in," David says.

"Aside from a couple of guys who do contract work with us, you've now met all of Lightwave Gameworks," Jason adds. "Rachel's our marketing wizard, and Torri manages our money, along with letting us have staff meetings in her house because we don't have a real office with an actual conference room."

"Hello." Joe looks around and commits the names and faces to memory. He lets his masters get settled before kneeling on the cushion at the end of the table next to Jason. Since everyone seems relatively casual, he sits back on his heels instead of kneeling up. Even though the whole Japanese thing is yet another attempt to make the system look better than it is, Joe likes it; the cushion is much kinder to his knees than hardwood or tile floors.

A stocky, balding guy in an apron comes out of the kitchen with a glass of Coke (diet) for David and iced tea (strong, no sugar) for Jason, which is apparently the signal for the meeting to start. Joe did pick up a couple of things from Lord Jobs and Lady Fiorina, and is actually able to follow a little of both the financial stuff and the technobabble for a while before his attention starts to wander.

Jewel is sitting next to Torri, typing furiously; Joe figures she's a secretary, but even without collars--or the fact that Jason didn't mention what they do with the company--Joe has no trouble recognizing Claire and Kavan as body slaves. Torri has an arm around Claire in a decidedly possessive way, and Kavan is curled up with his head in Rachel's lap while she strokes his hair as if he's a big cat. Joe tamps down the spark of jealousy at that; Claire's classically beautiful, like a girl from an Art Nouveau painting, and Kavan's the epitome of the cute guy-next-door. It's not surprising that their owners obviously dote on them.

Neither Jason nor David seems to notice when their glasses are empty. Joe takes advantage of the opportunity and picks up both glasses and takes them into the kitchen. Apron Guy ignores him at first, intent on whatever he's got on the stove, but finally he turns around and glares at Joe.

"Could I get a refill?" Joe asks him. "Iced tea for Jason, and--"

"Diet Coke for David; yes, I know." A lifetime of training helps Joe avoid wincing at the sound of the guy's grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard voice.

"Hey." Kavan's behind him, holding a glass. "If you don't mind, Joe, Rachel needs a refill too." He grins at Joe. "Sorry--he's Joe too." Joe privately decides that the kitchen slave will continue to be Apron Guy to him.

"How's it going?" Kavan asks. "I imagine you have your hands full with those two."

Joe stiffens. "Not sure what you mean."

"Oh, just--" Kavan waves a hand. "Jason's not so bad, but David's pretty high-strung anyway, and he gets so weird sometimes....This has to be a pretty big deal, if they actually got a body-slave just for the meeting."

"We're still getting used to each other, but they've been great--really patient and not demanding at all," Joe says, taking the glasses Apron Guy hands to him. He starts to head back to the dining room, but then pauses, looking at Kavan. "Have you been with Rachel a long time?"

Kavan smiles, transforming in an instant from blandly attractive to striking. "Four years," he tells Joe. "She's amazing...I've never had a master or a mistress like her. She's so sweet...."

Joe keeps his expression neutral. He's seen it before--hell, he's been that slave before--and even a blind man can tell that Kavan's in love with Rachel.

Sucker, Joe thinks.

Rachel kisses Kavan when he brings her the water. On the other hand, David looks flustered and thanks Joe a little more emphatically than necessary. Jason thanks him as well, but he's giving him a look that Joe's not sure how to interpret. It makes him nervous.

"You were with Carly Fiorina and Steve Jobs, before, right?" Jason finally asks. Joe nods. On the other side of the table, he can see Torri's eyebrows go up.

"Yes, sir--I served Lord Jobs for three years and Lady Fiorina for two," he tells them. "I was Lord Jobs' body slave, but I also acted as his secretary on occasion, so I'm comfortable with computers."

"Need to get you a laptop, then," David says, jotting a note into his iPhone. "And we should see what you think of the game, too. If you're interested, I mean."

"What, you mean you didn't shove him at a monitor first thing?" Rachel says, laughing. "You guys are slacking."

And they're off again on yet another tangent, with Torri making occasional half-hearted attempts to get them to focus. Joe never went to the office with Lady Fiorina, but this is definitely nothing like any Apple meeting he sat in on. Not that this is a bad thing.

Joe gets drink refills for his masters twice more before Apron Guy comes in and whispers something to Torri. She nods, and waves a hand in a shooing motion at the others.

"Dinner's ready. Machines off the table, please, so we've got room to eat."

Claire and Kavan serve their respective mistresses, of course, but when Joe reaches for the serving tray, Jason grabs it first.

"We're good," he says. Joe inhales deeply. He's your master; you can't smack him. He's your master; you can't smack him.

Kavan leans over and whispers something to Rachel, who laughs. "You know, you two might want to think about letting poor Joe do his job," she says.

"What?" David says, sounding distinctly testy. "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own food."

"And I'm not?" There's a noticeable hint of frost in Torri's voice.

"What are we supposed to do, then?" Jason demands. As smoothly as if he's done it a thousand times before--which he has--Joe takes the dish of risotto from Claire and spoons some onto Jason's plate before getting up to do the same for David.

"See, there you go. You're lucky--Joe obviously knows what he's doing. God knows you two need someone to keep you in line." Torri smiles at him almost as if she means it.

"The point is to make us--the company--look professional," Rachel adds, "so you can't act like you've just picked him up. It has to be seamless. You've got to be comfortable with him, or at least make it look that way."

I could kiss that woman, Joe thinks.

"Any suggestions on how we do that?" Jason asks. "Since, I mean, we've--he's been with us for less than a week?"

Joe finds himself in the unusual position of wanting to kiss two women within thirty seconds when Claire chimes in and says, "Touch him. And no, I'm not saying you have to be like Rachel and Kavan--or even Torri and me," she adds, touching her mistress' arm and smiling at her. "But it's okay to show affection for someone who's supposedly been with you for a while."

After a moment, David reaches up and lightly pets Joe's hair. "How's--oh, wow. Your hair's really soft!"

Everyone, including Joe, cracks up at that. "Real smooth, David," Jason says.

"Well, the way it sticks up, I thought he used a ton of gel, or mousse or something!"

He's been paying more attention than I thought. "I've got a bit of a cowlick problem," Joe explains. "Unless I let it get pretty long, it sticks up no matter what I do."

For all that he's a surly bastard, Apron Guy Joe is a damn good cook. David and Jason are still a little twitchy, but Joe's been doing this for over thirty years, and he's able to attend to them in something approaching a proper fashion.

Now that the meeting's over, everyone's talking. Joe just listens for the most part, although he can't help but notice that the informality isn't merely surface gloss. Slaves and owners alike are all taking part in the conversation, interrupting, joking around and teasing each other with a familiarity that doesn't feel forced. Joe finds it vaguely unsettling.

It's even worse when they get ready to leave, and Torri gives him a quick kiss on both cheeks. "I just want you to know that we all appreciate this," she tells him. "This meeting is important, and I can't be there. These two are great with the game developing, but not so much with the business end of things, so we'll have to fake it."

Joe ducks his head and smiles at her. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, ma'am. I'll certainly do my best."

As they head to the car, Joe tells Jason, "I'm more familiar with the Peninsula, but I do know my way around the East Bay, if you'd like me to drive, sir."

For some reason, David apparently finds this hilarious. Jason glares at him. "That's okay--but thanks."

"Trust me, it's better this way," David adds. "He's the world's worst backseat driver--you can practically hear him grinding his teeth when someone else is behind the wheel."

That actually made some sense. Lord knows that after Jobs, I know how to handle control freaks. The rest, the casual disregard of all rules of social decorum reminded him a little too much of Dylan--or worse, James. No. Master Spader--and I am not playing that game again. I just want to be settled somewhere for a while, that's all.

The downstairs lights are off when they get back, and Paul's up in his room. Joe's about to head upstairs as well, but Jason stops him. "If you're not too tired, I think we probably need to talk."

"Of course, sir." Joe's voice is even, although "we need to talk" are four words no body slave really wants to hear.

David shakes his head when Joe starts to sit on the floor. "Would you...look, if we're going to have this conversation, I think we all need to be a eye-level." Joe settles in the papa-san, which, frankly, feels good after spending an evening on his knees.

"So, um...." David looks at Jason, who sighs.

"Right. Make me do this. Okay, here's the thing: Torri's totally right--"

"Like she always is," David says.

Jason glares at him. "If you want to handle this, then be my guest; otherwise, let me finish, would you? But yeah, Torri knows us pretty well, and when she says we're not good with the business stuff, it's true. And as I'm sure you've figured out, neither of us has ever had a body-slave before."

"I had gotten that impression. Sir," Joe murmurs. He's not surprised when Jason's mouth twitches.

"The point is that we're going to need you to, um...steer us through this thing, which means that you've got to tell us what you need us to do in order to make everything go smoothly."

Joe has to sit there for a second, just to savor the moment. Managing his masters is what he does, and he's good at it--but this is the first time he's ever had anyone come straight out and ask him to do so. Jason and David are looking at him expectantly, though, so he tries to condense his mental list of things they need to work on down to a couple of bullet points.

"Well, first off, both of you need to get more comfortable with me serving you. At meals and stuff, I mean," he says. "I know you like having dinner in here, but it's probably a good idea for you to sit in the dining room, at least for a while. And try to remember that you don't have to thank me every time I do something."

"I kind of do, actually," Jason says apologetically. "It's habit; if I'd ever been as...well, rude, frankly, to one of the family slaves as people are here, my mom would have smacked me upside the head. And I'd have deserved it."

"I see...." He doesn't, really, but he knows how hard it is to change the habits you've had all your life. "Just maybe try not to be so....effusive about it?" That's more to David, who nods, even though his mouth is turned down more than usual. "If you don't mind, I'd also like to take a look at your clothes, and see if we need to do any shopping before we go."

David groans. "You're going to make me wear a tie, aren't you?"

Jesus, I thought Downey was bad. "It will be expected, sir--for both of you. Oh--has someone already made travel arrangements?"

"We're driving down," Jason says. "Some of the stuff for the booth is being shipped, but Rachel talked me into taking some of the bulky stuff in the car--she and Kavan are going, but they're flying down. As far as the hotel....I think Jewel made reservations for all of us."

Joe makes a note to check on that--and to make sure that there's s someplace for him to sleep. Or, alternately, not, and we'll have to share the bed. How unfortunate. "And also....as Claire mentioned, it'll help a lot if you're comfortable touching me. It doesn't necessarily have to be sexual--" he adds when they both frown. "I'm trained in both Swedish and shiatsu massage, among other things."

David snorts at that, and one of Jason's eyebrows definitely goes up. Joe can't really blame them, since his training had included strategies for making smooth transitions from massages to sex.

"Yeah, about that..." Jason says, rubbing the back of his neck. "The sex thing....it's not anything to do with you, or that there's anything wrong--"

"Definitely not," David adds.

"It's just that--"

Joe holds up a hand. "Sir, if you don't mind my interrupting for a moment, there's another thing. You own me. You don't have to explain yourselves to me, or apologize for anything. I do appreciate that you've treated me well; please believe me, but if you're too solicitous, people will think that you can't control me, and that I'm the one running things."

"Well, you are," Jason points out. Joe's estimation of him goes up a notch. These guys are kind of hapless, but they're not dumb--don't forget that.

"Of course he is; we're just supposed to pretend he's not." David sighs. "What a tangled fucking web....right. Anything else?" The hint of sarcasm in his tone doesn't bother Joe; given what he knows about these two, he'd be more worried if David wasn't being a bit snarky.

"Just one more thing. Since there are two of you, it's a bit confusing for me to use 'sir' for both of you. If you don't object, I really should use 'Master' and your names when addressing you."

"That makes sense--but only if it's first names," David tells him. "Master Hewlett is my dad."

Dylan had almost always been "Master Dylan," and besides--if these guys are too polished, it'll look suspicious. "I think that will be fine, Master David. Master Jason?"

Jason nods slowly. "Yeah, I guess that works." He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. "I just hope we can do this."

"We will," Joe says firmly. For the first time since they bought him, he thinks they might be able to pull it off.

-tbc-

Notes: I totally and completely blame poisontaster and her CWRPS series A Kept Boy, which made me want to write about the SGA actors in her universe. This is all her fault. Thanks also to telesilla for giving it a once-over.

The title is from the Duran Duran song, "Skin Trade".

continue to Chapter Five

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