"The Bandit 8"( MF cons )

     The Bandit blinked, and suddenly it was May.  

     How the hell did this happen, he wondered idly to himself as he 
crossed the wide lawn before the Student Union, listening to the chatter 
and laughter of the May Day crowds, the last crazy dance before Reading 
Period and finals began.  One minute I'm a freshman, wet behind the ears 
and pimply and terrified and excited and happy all at the same time, and 
the next thing you know it's almost over!  

     The hot sun beat down upon his back and shoulders, turning his pale 
skin brown at the edges of his tank top.  His jeans were hot and 
uncomfortable in the baking, humid air, but he still couldn't bring himself 
to wear shorts.  His sandals, already worn through, chafed his feet as he 
stalked across the grass, looking idly from side to side at the revelers 
and the booths selling trinkets for the passersby: T-shirts with pictures 
of Marx and Einstein, beer mugs with the Arcadia seal on them, hand-carved 
wooden sculptures....  

     I'm alone, the Bandit thought, suddenly tired for some reason.  I have 
friends everywhere, two women who love me, and yet I'm alone.  Something's 
not right here.  He stepped up to a vendor standing over a bucket of pint 
bottles in crushed ice, and dug in his pocket for a quarter.  Money changed 
hands for a Fresca, and he sipped at it idly as he found a sunny spot on 
the grass that hadn't yet been trampled into soaking mud and sat down 
heavily.  

     This was supposed to be the easiest time of my college career, he 
mused.  Both of my majors completed, Honor Roll, credit hours and senior 
project up to par...  I could flunk everything and still graduate.  So why 
am I so tired all of a sudden?  

     He belched loudly and grimaced.  Because you're a workaholic, you 
asshole, he answered himself sharply.  You live for work, you'll die for it 
someday, and you've immersed yourself in the hardest semester you've ever 
had, just to keep busy while the dreaded specter of Post-College Life 
creeps up on you....  

     It's better than thinking about other things, he pointed out.  

     True, he replied ruefully.  True.  

     A pinwheel of color suddenly whirled across the corner of his vision.  
He turned to look, and smiled despite himself;  it was Flower, in a 
flowered sundress, turning cartwheels on the lawn for a laughing Rainbow 
Wizard.  He saw a flash of bare, tanned legs and pink panties for the 
barest instant, and his eyes narrowed speculatively.  Well, there were a 
lot of things I didn't get a chance to do before I left, he thought 
philosophically.  

     "Hey!  Bandit?"  

     Speaking of which, he sighed, looking behind him.  

     Diva came strolling up to him, her pudgy legs tanning nicely in the 
sun and her breasts swaying under her loose, sleeveless sweatshirt.  She 
was barefoot in the grass, and her face was made pleasant by an 
uncharacteristic smile.  He nodded to her, and was surprised to see her sit 
down beside him.  

     "What can I do for you , Diva?"  

     "Oh, nothing," Diva smiled, tucking her mousy hair back under her 
headband.  "Zero wandered off, and I figured he'd gravitate this way 
eventually.  Have you seen him?"  

     "Not all day," the Bandit replied.  "I haven't really seen much of 
anybody all day, actually."  

     "No!  Really?  I thought you always had a crowd around you," she 
teased.  

     "Humph," he glowered.  Then he smiled, a thought occurring to him.  "I 
caught your Junior Recital last week," he said.  "You were fantastic, as 
usual.  Nervous, maybe, but fantastic."  

     "Oh, well," she said, coloring slightly, "I was just upset about the 
way the jury handled the scoring.  It was too damn arbitrary for me."  She 
smiled again.  "But Mama and Papa seemed to like it."  

     "They were in the audience?  I didn't see them."  

     "Oh, they were there," Diva smiled.  "They wouldn't have missed it for 
the world.  Why didn't we see you at the reception afterwards?"  

     Now it was the Bandit's turn to redden.  "Oh, uh, well, I didn't think 
it would've been appropriate for me to show up," he muttered.  

     "Not appropriate?  Bandit, we've known each other for years!"  She 
seemed genuinely offended.  "If not you, then who?"  

     "Oh, come on, Diva!"  The Bandit's discomfort mingled with 
defensiveness.  "You can't tell me you would've wanted me hanging out at 
your reception!"  

     "And why not?"  She raised a haughty eyebrow.  "Are you implying that 
we think we're too good for you?"  

     "I never said that," he huffed.  "It's just that, well, you and I 
haven't always been on the best of terms, that's all.  I didn't want to 
make you uncomfortable."  

     "Well, that's very solicitous of you," she sniffed, "But this was 
hardly a black-tie affair.  I don't think anyone would have fainted if a 
few people in blue jeans had shown up to express their congratulations...."  

     "A few--?"  His eyes narrowed.  "Diva, how many people showed up?"  

     Her eyes were sad.  "Maybe a couple of dozen, plus my parents."  

     "Oh, shit."  He met her gaze squarely.  "Diva, I'm sorry, it just 
seemed that with all the suits and ties around I would've looked like a 
fool...."  

     "Maybe you would have, if you'd come alone," Diva said hotly.  "But 
where was everybody else?"  

     "How the hell should I know?  I wasn't about to herd them into the 
recital hall at gunpoint!  If you like Mozart and Ravel, okay.  If not--" 
He shrugged.  "Your classical friends were all there, I'll bet."  

     "Most of them."  She sighed.  "It's not important."  

     The Bandit looked at her as she picked up a blade of grass and twirled 
it between her fingers.  What happened to the regal Diva, he wondered, the 
haughty and proud mistress of the ivories?  This is just a girl, fresh out 
of her teens and lonely.  Where was she these past years?  Why didn't I see 
her?  

     "Diva," he said uncertainly, "I know we've had our bad moments in the 
past...."  His voice trailed off.  He suddenly realized that she was 
looking at him carefully, her china-blue eyes wide.  

     Gamely he continued, "I just wanted to say that I, uh, I...."  

     "Hey, there you are!  I've been looking all over for you!"  

     The Bandit turned around with a jerk, to see Zero standing behind him, 
holding an awkwardly-shaped package wrapped in his hand and smiling down at 
them.  The Bandit stood up swiftly, as did Diva.  She smiled at Zero, a 
happier smile than the Bandit had seen in a long time.  

     "Just talking to your friend, here," she said with a laugh in her 
voice.  "Are you ready for lunch?"  

     "Yup.  Starving!"  

     "Great, so'm I.  Bandit?  Join us?"  

     "Uh, no thanks," he said reflexively.  "You two lovebirds go on 
without me, I'll be along as soon as I can scare up Blitz or Twink."  

     "Suit yourself," Zero said mildly.  Diva looked at the Bandit for a 
long moment, then suddenly hugged him swiftly and hard.  

     "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.  

     And then she was gone, hand in hand with Zero on their way to Scum 
Central.  The Bandit stood there looking after them, savoring her scent and 
the soft, pillowy breasts that had pressed against his chest for the barest 
moment.  

     Suddenly he looked down at his feet, remembering.  "Aw, shit," he 
muttered to himself, more in defeat than anger, and picked up the spilled 
bottle of Fresca from the grass.  


Mid-May 1983 

     "Knock, knock!"  The Bandit stuck his head in the doorway.  "Hey, 
Twink?  Is anybody ho--" 

     His voice cut off abruptly.  Twink was scrambling to her feet and 
facing him, out of the embrace of a tall, handsome blonde guy in a linen 
shirt and brown pants tied with a rope belt.  "Hi, Bandit," she said, 
blushing scarlet.  "I wasn't expecting you."  

     "Apparently not," he replied mildly, burying his impulses (run away, 
cry, scream, commit acts of unspeakable violence) beneath a shell of 
instant calm.  "Should I come back later?"  

     "Oh, no!  We'll be gone later!  I mean, I finished my last exam this 
morning, and by tonight we'll be on the road back home!"  She motioned 
behind her to the tall young man, who was standing up and buttoning his 
shirt casually.  "I've wanted the two of you to meet each other for nearly 
a year now," she continued nervously.  "Paladin, this is the Bandit."  

     "Pleasure to meet you!"  The Paladin flashed a perfect, winning smile, 
and held out a hand.  The Bandit took it, returning the smile carefully.  

     "Pleased."  He paused a moment, letting go of the hand.  "You came 
down here to pick her up?"  

     "Yeah," the Paladin nodded with an easy smile.  "We'll load up my 
truck with her things and hit the road for North Dakota by dinnertime.  We 
hope to be well on our way by nightfall...."  He ducked his head, a sad 
expression fleeting across his rugged face.  "Sorry we won't have a chance 
to get to know each other better...."  

     Yeah, I'll bet, thought the Bandit, as he spread his hands with a 
forced smile.  "These things happen," he said.  "There'll be other times."  

     "Will there?"  The Paladin looked puzzled.  "I thought you were 
graduating this year."  

     "I am," the Bandit replied calmly.  "Why should that stop me from 
seeing Twink every now and again?"  

     "Hm," was the thoughtful reply.  "You're right.  You're right.  
Sorry."  

     "No problem."  You sleazebag.  

     "Bandit, we'd love for you to come to dinner with us before we leave," 
Twink said brightly.  "We could talk--" 

     "I'm afraid not," the Bandit interrupted her.  "My last exam's 
tonight, and I have to study.  I came over to say my goodbyes."  He turned 
to face the Paladin squarely.  "Will you excuse us for a minute?"  

     "Sure," the Paladin grinned.  "Take your time.  Should I step 
outside?"  

     I'd love to ask you to step outside, you grinning gigolo.  "No, 
thanks.  We'll step outside."  He motioned to the door, and Twink stepped 
out into the hallway.  He followed her, shutting the door behind them.  

     "I'm sorry," Twink whispered urgently.  "I didn't want to surprise you 
like this...."  He laid a finger on her lips, shushing her gently.  

     "It's okay," he said.  "I knew this day would come.  I want you to 
have a safe trip home, and stay in touch with me.  You have my address and 
phone number?"  

     "Of course.  I'll call or write when I get a chance, I promise.  
Bandit, please don't be sad.  I'm going to be happy at home, and I want you 
to be happy, too!"  

     "I'll do my best," he said with a little smile.  "Can I kiss you 
goodbye, at least?"  

     "Just try to leave without it," she replied, her eyes shiny with 
tears.  He took her in his arms and reveled in the feel of her soft, 
yielding curves one last time: her breasts, the flare of her ribs, her 
waist and hips, her gentle touch on his lips....  

     He broke the kiss, sadly but firmly.  "Goodbye, love."  

     "Goodbye...."  Twink reluctantly pulled her arms down from around his 
neck, half turned to open the door, then suddenly threw herself into the 
Bandit's arms, hugging him so hard he thought he'd faint.  "Oh, Bandit, I 
love you so...."  

     He hugged her back, hard.  "And I love you, Twink.  Always will."  

     "I know...."  She pulled away again, sniffling.  "Excuse me, I gotta 
go blow my nose...."  She turned away and ran down the hall, pushing open 
the door to the women's room and vanishing.  

     The Bandit watched her go, tears welling up in his eyes.  He looked 
back at the closed door, and something hot, suffocating and thick welled up 
in his throat, threatening to choke him to death on the spot.  He threw the 
door open and glared at the Paladin, who'd looked up from reading one of 
Twink's books in surprise.  

     "You take care of her, Paladin."  His voice was an evil hiss.  

     The Paladin's eyebrows raised, and he smiled.  "Oh, I plan to."  

     "Yeah, well try to do a better job than you did popping her cherry!"  

     "She told you about that?"  The Paladin's smile vanished.  

     "You bet your ass she did.  I don't care what she thinks of you, 
Paladin;  you're a snake in the grass, in my book.  And God help you if I 
find out you've hurt her...."  

     "Are you threatening me?"  

     "No."  The Bandit's arm arced upward in a blur, and the Paladin heard 
something whip past his ear and bury itself in the wooden bookcase beside 
him.  "I'm making a promise."  And with that, the door slammed and the 
Bandit was gone.  

     When Twink came in a few seconds later, the Paladin was still staring 
at the knife, inches from his face.  "Darling, what's wrong?"  

     He turned to her, his voice thick with disbelief and rage.  "Your ex-
boyfriend just tried to kill me!"  

     Twink looked at the knife and smiled.  "No he didn't," she said with a 
self-assurance she'd never felt in quite the same way before.  "At this 
range, if he'd wanted to kill you, he would have."  She strode over to the 
bookcase and retrieved the knife with a tug.  It was his favorite throwing 
dagger, the black U.S.  Air Force survival blade with the hammer butt.  She 
stood staring down at it, tears in her eyes.  

     "You want to go give it back to him?"  The Paladin sneered.  

     "No, I'm keeping it," Twink said softly.  "He left it for me, to 
remember him by...."  Her voice broke.  

     She stepped into the other part of her room, closing the door behind 
her, and he heard rummaging sounds, followed by a nose being blown 
violently and a couple of loud sniffs.  The door opened, and Twink came 
out, all smiles and with only the barest hint of red in her eyes to show 
that she'd been crying.  "Let's finish packing, sweetheart."  

     He smiled and gave her a comforting squeeze.  "I know he meant a lot 
to you," he said softly.  "But you'll see him again...."  He began to pack 
books from the shelves into the crates she'd bought for the move.  Twink 
stepped past him, reaching for more books, and froze as her gaze wandered 
outside her window.  

     A lonely figure was standing out in the rain, staring up at her.  As 
she watched, it waved something and carefully set it down at the base of a 
nearby tree, almost invisible in the grey afternoon.  With a final wave, it 
turned and ran off into the rain.  

     It was the Bandit.  He'd left behind the sheath for his knife.  

     Twink smiled and turned to her task with a will, humming Stravinksy to 
herself.  I'll pick it up on the way to dinner, she thought happily.  That 
guy.  Trust him never to do anything halfway....  

     "What are you smiling at?"  The Paladin grinned at her.  

     Twink leaned forward, kissing him soundly.  "I am thinking," she 
whispered, "Of the man I love more than anything else in the world."  

     "Mmmm," he said approvingly, dropping his armload of books and 
wrapping his arms around her, bearing her down onto the bed.  

     Goodbye, Bandit, she thought as waves of pleasure swept over her with 
his wandering hands.  Be as happy as I will.  

     Please?  


Late May 1983 

     "I can't help but think that this will be the last time we'll ever be 
doing this," the Bandit said softly, his hand tracing the ripe curve of 
Blitz's hip.  

     "Oh, don't get all drippy and sentimental on me, you jerk," Blitz 
laughed, rolling over and pushing him onto his back.  "You know damn well 
that it won't be the last time!  You're coming out to the shore to visit me 
this summer, and we're going to fuck 'til we drop for two weeks!  So think 
of it as a temporary goodbye, and concentrate on making it a good one, 
okay?"  

     He found himself smiling back at her.  "Okay, I won't argue."  

     "Why the hell'd I ever have to fall in love with you, Bandit?"  She 
straddled his hips, gently caressing his hard, pulsing member.  "It was so 
much easier when it was all just lust, when you were fucking me to make 
Starch mad and I was fucking you because my boyfriend wanted to sleep three 
nights a week...."  She slid forward a little bit and began to rub her 
labia over the underside of his penis, wetting it with her juices and 
sighing with the pleasurable ripples it sent up and down her nerves.  

     "Not for me, it wasn't," the Bandit said between sighs.  "I can't just 
fuck a woman because of a physical attraction...there has to be something 
emotional there...."  

     "Why?"  She stopped what she was doing and looked down at him, hands 
indignantly on her hips.  "Why?"  

     "Because if there isn't," he replied, reaching up to gently fondle her 
breasts, "Then we're no different from rutting animals."  

     "I have bad news for you, Bandit," she sighed as her wide, purplish- 
pink nipples swelled and hardened under his expert fingers, "We ARE no 
different from rutting animals.  The emotional baggage is just manufactured 
bullshit, and we ought to be able...ooohhhhh....purrrrrrrr...to recognize 
it as such...."  

     "Okay, then," he said impishly, "Answer your own question: why did you 
have to fall in love with me?"  

     She grabbed his hands with hers, pulling them roughly away from her 
breasts.  "Because I know the difference between making love and being in 
love, that's why!  We made love for a long time, before I fell in love with 
you!"  

     "Oh, really?"  He began to move his hips slowly, rubbing his penis 
against her labia.  "I was in love with you from day one...."  

     "Then you're an idiot," she moaned, "Because you didn't take the time 
to really learn what was worth loving in me, you just tacked it on as you 
went along, starting with the sex...mmmmm...."  

     "Maybe so," he admitted, returning to his nipple-play, "But we seem to 
have ended up okay, anyway...."  

     "This time," she insisted, biting her lip to keep her thoughts in 
order.  "You got started with me the same way you got started with Twink, 
or Teenie....you got into my pants, and then you decided you loved me.  
What the hell's going to happen when you start to think with your brain 
instead of your gonads, and make FRIENDS with a woman before you sleep with 
her?"  

     The Bandit stopped what he was doing, thinking hard for a moment.  
Then he grinned, that old Bandit grin.  "I'll probably get married," he 
laughed.  "But for now, can we settle for a good, straightforward bye-bye 
fuck?"  

     "Mmmmm, yes, you asshole," Blitz replied, reaching down and seizing 
his length firmly.  "That'll...have to...doooooOOOOOOOO...."  She lifted 
herself up slightly, stuffed the tip of his penis into her moist crevice, 
and sat.  

     "Ahhhhh," the Bandit gasped as he felt her warm wetness engulf him.  
"I'm gonna miss this...."  

     "So am I, you son of a bitch," she moaned, bucking up and down as his 
hands tightened over her breasts.  "Too damn much for my own good...."  

     "MMmf, gonna come soon...."  

     "Come when you're ready...."  

     "Sure?"  

     "Yes, I'm sure."  

     "Positive?"  

     "Yes, I'm positive!"  

     "Abso--mmph!--lutely?"  

     "COME IN ME, ALREADY!  You're turning purple!"  

     "Okay--UNGH!  UH!  UH!"  He heaved up to meet her and she sighed and 
moaned as his hot, sticky juices filled her to overflowing.  She slowly 
settled onto him, a panting, sweating coverlet on his trembling chest.  

     The same whispered question: "Did you come?"  

     The same soft answer: "No.  But you felt wonderful.  Don't worry."  

     Sigh.  

     After a long, long while, she rolled off of him, his limp penis 
sliding out of her with a wet plop, and reached for the roll of toilet 
paper he kept by the bed to clean herself up.  He followed suit, and kissed 
her breasts one last time as she fastened her bra and put on her blouse.  
They dressed quickly, and he held the door open for her as she left his 
room.  

     The walk across campus to her dorm was made in silence.  As they 
approached the front doors, she turned to him and gave him a quick hug.  

     "See you in July."  

     "I'm counting the days...."  

     "'Bye."  A light kiss on his cheek, and she swiftly stepped through 
the doors and vanished into a stairwell with a parting wave.  

     The Bandit waved back, then sighed, thrusting his hands into his 
jacket pockets and turning for the short walk home.  The beginnings of 
another storm began to patter raindrops on the leaves as he hunched his 
shoulders and hurried away into the night.  


Memorial Day, 1983 

     "Hey, Bandit!  Looking sharp!"  Zero looked the Bandit over, as he 
struck a dignified pose in his black gown and mortarboard.  "Not bad, not 
bad.  But I would've preferred paisley."  

     "Gee, thanks."  The Bandit gave him an affectionate squeeze.  "It's 
gonna be a tough road without you, bro'.  I'm gonna miss you."  

     "That's how it works, kemosabe," Zero shrugged with a faint smile.  
"But we haven't seen the last of each other yet.  You and Diva are from the 
same home town, right?"  

     "Well, sort of," the Bandit said.  "You've been there!  It's nearly an 
hour's drive from her place to my folks' house.  Are you going to visit her 
family over breaks?"  

     "Probably not," Zero said with a grimace, "Seeing as how they don't 
approve of me.  But we'll both be in your shoes next May, and if the job 
market's good I may decide to relocate!  Sound good?"  

     "REALLY?  Oh, YEAH!"  The Bandit hugged Zero hard, his mortarboard 
falling to the ground.  "I can hardly wait!"  

     "Great," Zero laughed, handing him his mortarboard.  

     "What will you be doing this summer?"  

     "I'll be staying in Arcadia, actually," was the surprising reply.  "I 
got a good job offer, so I decided to try what you did last year."  

     "Hopefully with better results," the Bandit said with a wry face.  

     "Hopefully," Zero grinned quietly.  "Well, they're lining up;  good 
luck, kemosabe."  He gave the Bandit one last hug, and walked off.  

     The Bandit watched him walking down to where Conan and the Rainbow 
Wizard were standing at the edge of the Commencement crowd, a smile on his 
face.  Zero living at home?  YOW!  The Dynamic Duo will ride again!  

     "....Bandit?"  

     The timid voice made him turn sharply, his smile vanishing.  

     "What do you want?"  His voice was cool.  

     Mary Magdalene ran her hands down the hem of her dress, uncomfortable 
under his gaze.  "I, I just wanted to say goodbye."  She looked up at him 
pleadingly, her dark eyes meeting his.  "I couldn't let you leave with 
things between us the way they are.  I know we've hurt each other terribly, 
but that's as much my fault as your own.  I just put too much of myself 
into you, too soon after the Rainbow Wizard.  It wasn't all your doing...."  

     He looked down at his feet, chafing in the unfamiliar dress shoes.  "I 
know," he said softly.  "I understand."  

     "I'm leaving Arcadia," she said softly.  

     He looked up at her, his eyes wide.  "You're WHAT?"  

     "I'm leaving Arcadia."  Her voice was firm.  "There are too many 
memories for me here, and not enough real opportunities.  I'm going to New 
England, where my brother lives with his wife.  They'll let me stay with 
them and help take care of their baby while I look for work in a recording 
studio or something."  She smiled, the million-candlepower MaryMag smile 
that could take the paint off a rocket booster.  "I used to dream dreams 
that were my own, not someone else's.  I'm going to try to get them back."  

     "I'm glad," the Bandit said.  "At least you learned that much...."  

     "I learned a lot from you, Bandit," she said.  "I wouldn't have traded 
our time together for amything.  I...I thought you should know that."  She 
looked at him uncertainly.  

     He smiled.  "I know.  And I want you to know that I feel the same."  
He blinked at her in the bright sun, and his smile turned shy.  "Can I kiss 
you goodbye?"  

     She nodded, laughing aloud.  "Same old Bandit!  C'mere."  

     "Mmmmmm," he said, relishing her wonderful mouth once more.  

     "Mmmm," she replied, squeezing him gently.  Then the kiss was broken, 
and she waved a little wave with her fingers as she turned away and ran to 
join the crowd.  He waved after her, licking his lips for the last of her 
taste.  

     From the edge of the crowd, Conan saw the kiss, and shook his head in 
exasperation.  "Geez," he muttered, "How does he DO it?"  

     "He has the touch," Zero said softly, watching Mary Magdalene as she 
approached them with a smile.  "He just...has the touch."  

     The Bandit looked down the hill at the tiny knot of people that were 
his last friends in Arcadia.  He waved, a goodbye that held the promise of 
fun and good times in the shadowy years that lay beyond college, and ran to 
join the line of gowns and mortarboards that was slowly beginning to move 
ahead.  The familiar strains of "Pomp and Circumstance" filled the open 
courtyard as the Class of 1983, the Bandit in their midst, stepped forward 
to receive their diplomas and take on the world.