NavelTickler75
4th Level Yellow Feather
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- Dec 29, 2006
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THE NAVEL AND ANGEL MYSTERIES!
Case One: The Golden Feather
Hi, let me introduce myself to you. The name is… well, believe it or not, Navel. Yeah I said Navel, as in belly button. My parents were damn hippies. You have no idea how many times I got teased about that as a kid. My dad was a police officer, hehe, yeah a police officer who was a hippie. Don’t ask me how that happened, but it did. Mom was content on staying home with us twelve. Yep I said twelve, and no we aren’t Mormons and yes, both parents practiced birth control. They just wanted us, and decided they were going to have us, is all.
Years have passed, and following his death, I decided to walk in the man’s footsteps, and become a police officer, but for some reason, I never could make it in the academy. So I became a private detective, followed soon by my little sister, Angel. Yes, of course, she was the one to get the interesting and normal name, but of course, had mother had her way, she would have been named, Prancing Pony.
Neither she, nor I are of you your typical detectives though. While we do investigate things that involve murder, theft, destruction of property, and people threatening others, the main issue always revolves around tickling. And it all started with the Case of the Golden Feather.
************
I was sleeping well, and very hard. The other night had been rough, going through the paperwork, signing the lease. I believe I was snoring when I heard the door open though my subconscious, and the tiny pitter patter of footsteps.
“Go away,” I snapped grumpily.
“Got a case,” Angel answered with her chirpy way.
“Good, let me know about it when I wake up.” I folded the covers tighter over me, and yawned big, hoping that would cause her to get the point.
I could hear her giggle, and walk over closer to me. “It’s seven o’clock, time to wake up anyway,” she whispered in my ear.
“Too tired, must sleep,” I whimpered.
“Sure, keep sleeping and then the repo man can take that nice, soft bed you’re on.” There was a pause, and then my body tightened as I felt the soft, tender fingers run across the sides of my ribs. I fought the sensation, trying not to laugh or wiggle as much as I could. “Wake up, bro,” she teased.
“Not happening,” I said through clenched teeth.
She stood up, and sat on my back, her fingers wiggling faster, and a little harder. “You know I can do this all day, big brother,” she laughed. My body tightened even and I began laughing harder. Yeah, I knew she could do it longer, even all day if she had too, but that would not pay the rent. If the gentle, soft rib tickle would not get me up… oh shit.
I felt her lay across my back, as if I was the bed, her left hand still tickling me as infuriating slow and tenderly as she had when she started. But her right hand, her right hand I could not feel, but I could hear something slurping, and then the next thing I knew, a wet, icky feeling filled my right ear.
“Oh God,” I screeched like a little girl, bucking my sister off of me, as she lay on the bed, giggling like a maniac. My ear was soaked, and my ribs itched like crazy. “You know I hate the tickle wet willy attack!”
“Welcome to the land of the living, big brother,” Angel giggled and patted my head. “Lucky for me you sleep in pjs, I think I’d need a shrink if you leapt out of the bed nude.”
I gave her the look, and chuckled. I should thank my lucky stars Hope, Aura, Steph, Issy, Brianne or Robyn weren’t there. Three of them were older than me, Hope and Robyn were younger, like Angel. I remember once, when my brothers went out for a football try out, and I was left with the girls, and our little brother, they teamed up on me, held me down and tickle wet willied me to death almost.
“So who is this first client of ours, sis?” I asked, fully awake and headed for the bathroom.
“Some museum curator guy,” she said, waiting for me to get done. “A feather got stolen last night, and he wants us to try and find it.”
My eyebrows rose. “A feather?”
“A golden feather, supposed to be owned by Cleopatra herself, its worth millions of dollars.” She held out a tie, and I took it, dressing as fast as I could.
“Any suspects?” I asked.
“Gee Nave, not sure, maybe we should go and… ask the curator?” She smirked and poked me in my ribs to make me move faster.
“You’re so going to end up tickling me to death one of these days, little sis,” I laughed.
She smiled, shaking her head. “If I did that, who’d I annoy with tickling? Mitch? He ignores me a lot, the baby? Its fun, but I can’t annoy him.” She giggled and pushed me out the door, toward the car, and started it. And off we were, to the Centralville Museum.
************
The museum was a place of utter confusion. People were running around this way and that, and to be honest it gave me a fricking head ache. After fifteen minutes of trying to find the curator, and nearly giving up, we found the man in the bathroom, wringing his hands, and looking unsure of himself.
His name, or rather last name was Johnson. He was a thin, man, with sunk in eyes, colored blue gray, and had less hair than I did, which was colored white. Wrinkles adorned his face, and he rubbed his hands with worry. “What took you so long?” he whined, his voice just as cracked as his face.
Angel glared at him, poking him in the stomach, making him jump and chuckle. “You could have met us, my brother and I don’t appreciate wasting our time with nonsense, when we can use that time to solve this mystery and get paid.”
“I do understand,” he said rubbing his belly. “I was just very worried about the object in question. You see, it has very dangerous abilities.” He looked at us as if he expected that we were going to think he was nuts. He was indeed right. He sighed, and looked at Angel. “I told you that Cleopatra owned the feather, but she was not the original possessor of it, according to folklore.”
“Go on,” I said, folding my arms.
“It was passed down from generation to generation of Pharaohs, kings and queens of Egypt, possibly starting with King Scorpion himself!” His eyes sparkled, his excitement growing by history. Now I for one, love history, but when it gets in the way of my job… He inched away, and fixed his glasses. “I do so apologize. Anyway, whoever owns the feather, and uses the correct spell can actually use it to do anything to anyone. You could make them a zombie, make them your slave, make love to them without even going near them, tickle them insane with just a thought!”
I looked at my little sister, and she looked back. Okay this guy was a little bit off his rocker. Mystic powers? A feather that could make you do anything? “I suppose this was created by a god?” I asked with a laugh.
“Yes, Osiris. It was said to come from his headdress.”
Angel rolled her green eyes, making me laugh. “Look, I’m not sure about all of this, but I did some research, and I do admit the feather is a historical item at any rate. Very expensive to lose. Could you show us where it was when it was stolen?”
Professor Johnson sighed with disappointment, and nodded, “Come this way with me.” He lead us to the Egyptian area of the museum, which was taped off, and surrounded by police officers. “Its alright, they’re Private Investigators that the museum has hired,” he told the lead officer. The Hispanic police man looked at my sister and I, raising an eyebrow. He had short curly black hair, and a cut beard to match. His eyes were brown, and seemed to me at anyway to match his skin. He was a good three to five inches taller than me, and while not built like Arnold, he definitely had me beat when it came to well being sculpted. His name from what I could make out of it was something Amkes.
“I am not quite sure that you should have brought anyone else in here to investigate, Mr. Johnson,” he said. “We’ve just started the investigation, and I don’t agree with a public citizen with just a little learning…,”
Angel took out her license, and nudged me to take out mine. “I studied at the academy for a while, officer,” I told him. “And our father was an officer too, so we’re very familiar with the procedures.”
The officer sighed and batted his head back and forth. “Fine, but do not touch anything,” he snapped.
“Of course not,” I said with a smile. We passed by him, and the curator lead us into the main room of the Egyptian exhibit. There, in the middle of the room, was a large case, or it would have been a case, had glass not been scattered along the brownish orange floor, making very tiny rainbows as the lights above shone down on them. Immediately I knew that there was something wrong, though I could not place it. All I knew was that some one had not come into the museum and smashed the glass, not like an average thief anyway. I examined the glass, and the case, which was light brown, with a soft blue pillow on the top of the base. That itself was odd too. If someone had come in here, and smashed up the place, wouldn’t the pillow have fallen, or at least been displaced?
Angel was busy talking to the people in the room, writing things down. That was were her talents were best. She was everyone’s best friend, everyone’s little sister, or sometimes with kids in school, older sister. She was perky, and cheery, her emerald eyes glowing with light. She was the person you could joke with, or whose shoulder you could rest your head on and cry. And then she could be dark and serious, with her eyes dark as green waters of a loch. When she was like that, people usually spilled their guts, not wanting to anger her… which was in all reality a kind of falsehood, I’ve never seen her actually pissed. But she was good at it with her tone and eyes. Those eyes… it was all within those eyes.
Basically everyone had no problem talking to her, those people who worked there, the police, everyone was basically friendly with her, save for three people. The curator’s assistant; a short, chunky woman who I think was jealous of how cute Angel was. Then a night guard, a bone thin man with dark gray eyes and a vicious habit of cursing. There was also the secretary another woman, in her twenties, with blonde white hair, blue eyes, and the largest legs I’ve ever seen, with the tiniest feet I’ve ever seen. The fourth person was the lead investigating officer, who seemed really pissed that we were, as he called it, stealing his job.
I continued to exam the room, looking for clues, as she talked. It might have been very large, but at the same time, with all the people in the room, it was very claustrophobic. The walls seemed to swirl around me, and I could hardly breathe. Colors and smells meshed together, and before I knew what was happening, I was on the floor, holding my head tight. The last thing I heard was Angel’s frightened call to me, and the rushing of feet.
************
I woke up looking into the eyes of my oldest sister, Steph, who was running a hand across my face, her own fixed in worry. I tried smiling, trying not to sound or look as scared as I really was. “Hey there o sis of mine,” I joked, my voice cracked a little, dry from the lack of liquid in it.
“No jokes, babe,” she said, her eyes lightening, but her voice still full of worry. “You’ve been out for a whole day.” She must have seen me frown. “Angel was very worried, and that curator is under suspecion of poising you.”
“What?” I sat up, and dropped back to the bed.
“His secretary has admitted that he had been using an illegal spray in that room for days. No one knows why, but the police arrested him for it.”
My strength was coming back to me now, and I pushed myself up further, only to be shoved back, by my big sister. “You have to stay there and rest, kiddo. And I mean it, its not fair to give me a worry like this.”
“You freaked out when I was dating that female wrestler, Guilia for five months,” I joked.
“That’s different and you know it,” she snapped. Her dark brown flowed over her face, and she impatiently batted it away.
There was something she was standing there, that bothered me. “You didn’t tell Kelly, did you?”
“We’re not going to keep that kind of info from your own girlfriend,” Robyn cried out from a different room. I had to chuckle, damn that Robyn, the girl had ears like a hawk!
“And where’s Angel?” I asked, a little worried. After all if I was poisoned, then why not her?
“Still investigating,” Steph said, or rather snapped, as she reached over for a glass of water, and pushed it to my lips. “Now drink.” I obeyed my sis, gulping down the water she offered, and then rested my head. “No, she’s not poisoned too, she was lucky. And …,” she sighed. “Mitch did try to talk her out of continuing to investigate, but she wanted you to be happy and proud of her. She also said things didn’t add up.”
“That’s because they don’t,” I started, and stopped as she turned and looked at me. A shiver ran up my spine, but I was determined to continue. “Was I diagnosed with poison?” Her eyes told the story. “But its out of my system now?”
“Kind of a miracle wouldn’t you say, big bro?” Issy asked, smiling and blowing me a kiss from the door, before disappearing again.
“Too much a miracle,” I muttered.
“Nave,” Steph growled that big sister, substitute mother growl. She would have argued more, but swore and batted her head back and forth. “Too much like dad,” she sighed, plopping down next to me. “I could never get him to see common sense, and the same is with you.” She looked at me and smiled, tickling my sides.
“What is with the tickling of me by my sisters?” I laughed.
“Best way to tease, annoy, and show you we love you, babe,” Steph giggled, tickling my ribs. “Look, honey, I know you want to do this, because of dad, but you’re not dad, you’re you.”
“Really, I thought I was Kered,” I laughed, making reference to my other older brother. Steph rolled her eyes and punched my arm gently. I grimaced a little, but was now able to sit up. “Honestly though sis, things do not add up, I don’t think Professor Johnson had anything to do with this.”
“So, what suspects do you have?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure to be honest, I had a hunch it was someone who worked there though. “We’ll wait to get the info from Angel when she comes back, we might know more then.”
As if I had said the magic words, we could hear the family car roar up the drive way and the slam of doors, followed by footsteps waling up to the house. A few minutes later, Angel walked in the door, Mitch kept an eye on her from the hall and then went into the bathroom.
“Well good to see you up, bro,” she said. A second later she rushed over to me and hugged me tighter than I’d ever been hugged before.
“Missed ya,” I said.
“What…ever, Mr. Rip van Winkle,” she giggled. “Anyway there’s two people whose alibis match.” She giggled again and wiggled as she stared at my blank face.
“Just how long was I out for?” I asked. It normally took a good week to track down alibis, see if they weren’t covering for their mark, and usually took more than one person to absolutely prove that a person was where they said they were.
She continued to giggle and wiggle, something everyone, including herself, found odd. “Just a couple of days,” she said through her giggling. Her hands batted the air a little, but she struggled to ignore what was happening. “The night guard is the only one whose alibi didn’t match,” she laughed, her eyebrows folding down, as her hands batted around her waist as she wiggled.
“What are you doing?” I asked, watching her, sitting up. Steph tried to help her, but Angel shrieked with laughter and dropped to the floor, her face turning red as she held up her left arm high above her head and thrashed. Normally her giggles and laughter was beautiful and charming, but this was freaking me out.
“Stop it,” she cried through her laughter, stop,” she wiggled, tears running down from her cheeks as her right hand fluttered to her left pit, trying to grab something we could not see away from that area. “Shit it tickles, make it stop,” she cried and began howling with laughter again. Then her right arm went above her head, and she screamed with laughter harder.
“Babe, what the hell?” Steph asked, kneeling next to Angel, her eyes hard with worry. My sister looked up at me, as if asking what the fuck was going on, only to see her worry matched in my own eyes.
Angel thrashed on the floor, screaming, crying, and laughing. Soon her toes were wiggling and flexing, as if someone was torturing her feet. The family, one by one, hurried in to see what was going on, Mitch finally pushing his way through, and upon assessing the situation, hurried into his room, getting some things and a book of prayers or spells if you prefer that, but let’s not be picky, and began a ritual that soon, well… as best as I can describe, exorcised whatever it was that was torturing our sister.
That feather, I knew then that the curator had spoken the truth, and I also knew that the room had not truly been poisoned. I let the family know that. “Someone used it to poison me.”
“That’s crazy talk, babe,” Steph said, frowning.
“Why not both of you?” Issy wanted to know.
“Because I am betting that whoever did it, was busy with Angel, and couldn’t attack her directly there at the scene without exposing themselves,” Mitch explained. He turned to look at Angel, and blinked. “Who were you talking to, when Nave went down?”
She thought for a moment, and nodded her head, “It was the police officer, that Amkes guy.”
My jaw dropped, he’d never even been a suspect in this whole thing, though I could tell he had been angry and jealous of us, why would he steal the feather? Or even go near it?
“Richard Amkes?” Kered asked. We nodded our head, that was his first name, I remembered it then. My big brother frowned, and went to a few news papers clippings that our father loved to collect. A few minutes later, he came back and plopped them down onto the bed. “He had been a night guard at the museum for a while, when he had been put on temporary leave for some kind of dispute.”
“He’d know about the feather, and how to get to it,” I said. “He’d also probably have a partner to help him. That’s why the glass looked so odd, it was laying out of the pedestal, as if someone burst the glass from the inside, not the outside. I‘m willing to bet there‘s some secret compartment that leads from one of the rooms to that glass display.”
“The night watchman,” Angel said with a nod. She looked at her notes, then the clippings. “They worked together at the same time too.”
“Then its time we meet with this officer of the peace, and get that feather back,” I said with grim determination.
“Wait,” Mitch handed us some things, “Just to keep you two safe from the power of that feather.”
“How do you know he’ll even cooperate with you, he is a bad guy after all,” Hope asked.
I smiled, looking at my sister, who winked at me. “Oh, I think Angel can take care of that.” She giggled, and her eyes filled with hunger for vengeance.
Before we went, Mitch gave us one last aid, casting a spell that would allow the officer to fall asleep, before we got there. No need in him trying to run away once he found out we were on our way, or try to use the feather in a different way. Calling a friend of our father, we tipped him off to the accomplish and then we were off.
************
We arrived at his house an hour later, and once we snuck into the building, found him fast asleep on the couch. Wasting no time, Angel and I secured him with some rope, and waited for him to awake. His brown eyes flashed with anger and surprise. “What is the meaning of this?” he barked.
“You are the one who took the feather,” I said, leaning down, with a smile. “All the evidence points right to you.”
“You are fucking insane, and making the biggest mistake you’ve ever made,” he growled. “Untie me at once.”
“Sure, once you confess and give us that feather,” Angel cooed.
“You two are going to jail for this, you bastard and bitch,” he hissed. He thrashed around. He was wearing civilian clothes, his shirt was a green design tee shirt, with blue jeans. He had been wearing a military hat, but that got knocked off as he had thrashed.
“You do have the feather, and we need you to confess and give it back,” I said. “Not only that, but you tried to poison me with it, and you tortured my sis with it.” His eyes flashed shock and he turned away. “See, you are guilty, won’t even look at me.”
“So I took the damn thing, so fucking what?” he hissed in defeat, “I ain’t going to give it to ya, and once I get out of here, I’ll have you two arrested for it.” He smiled. “Perhaps then I can really go to town on your cute little sis, I was just getting warmed up with her, when whatever you did stopped my fun.”
“Oh?” she asked. She smiled and leaned next to his soles, wiggling her fingers across his arches. She smiled as he jumped and held his breathe. “I do owe you for that, huh?” she said with a smile.
“You could prevent it,” I said with a smile, poking his ribs. He jumped and looked at me. “I normally do not go out and tickle a guy,” I explained. “So that’s the worst you’ll get it from me… but,” I smiled and wiggled my finger in his ribs, “my sis will most definitely give you, your money’s worth!” I leaned up against his face, feeling his warm breathe against my cheek. “Unless you want to tell us where that feather is.”
“Bite, me,” he swore.
“Good idea,” Angel giggled. With the speed of a leapard, she gently clamped down on his feet and toes, and chewed playfully, running her tongue between his toes. Amkes, leapt form the couch, his eyes going wide from our tickling, and erupted with laughter. “Nummy, nummy,” she purred as she nibbled, “these are so good, you simply must give me the recipe,” she teased.
“Make her stop,” he cried, his eyes full of water. I smirked and waved my hand, trying to distract my sis.
“You ready to talk?” I asked with a laugh.
“Get bent, you loser,” he growled, gasping for air, his face so red that it looked like a tomato.
“Not nice,” Angel snapped, and shot up to his stomach, digging her fingers into it. “Say your sorry,” she snarled. “My brother is not a loser.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he screamed, batting about like a fish out of water. “Please, okay, alright, I’m sorry,” he collapsed into silent laughter and shook his head.
“Now tell us where that feather is,” she said, harshness still in her voice.
“I don’t have it,” he cried with laughter.
“Where is it?” she demanded, sounding even more harsh, her fingers working their way up into his armpits, like tiny, very hungry spiders. They nested in his hallows, and waited for his response, which was nothing more than a whimper. Geez this guy acted tough, but when push came to shove, he seemed to either want this, or was as my sis likes to call guys who tickle girls aggressively, but act like butter when they’re being tickled themselves, a wuss. “Okay then,” she sighed. I held up his ropes tighter, to keep him from thrashing too hard, and she went to town.
His laughter and screams bounced off the walls, seemingly crashing into the windows. I halfway expected the police to show up because some neighbor would decide something was definitely wrong. But no officer ever did show up. Not at that point anyway. Angel was literally a tickle artist, her fingers her tools. She’d tickle hard, to really get the point across, and then soft, fluttering her fingertips across his pits, and down to his ribs, and back to his sides. We’d let him have a break for a while, as a dead or unconscious confession was no good to us. I gave him some water to drink, and Angel dried him off a little with a towel, but time was getting away from us, and we both knew it… problem was, so did he. I knew then that fretter as he was, he wasn’t a wuss, he was not about to tell us what we wanted to know, and I guessed why too.
“You didn’t steal that feather for yourself, did you, Officer Amkes?” He looked at me with shock and turned away. “You’re working for someone, perhaps not a lackey, but maybe doing a job for them?”
Angel looked at me and blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Ask him,” I said jokingly. She grinned and reached down to tickle his toes again, Amkes literally leapt off the couch. “I knew it.”
“I can’t tell you,” he grumbled. Angel forced her finger into between his second and third toes and wiggled it, making the man scream and kick, but she was holding onto his ankle like a vise. “Please, I … I can’t tell.”
“Why not?” I demanded, poking him in the ribs.
“They’d kill me,” he cried, trying to hold in his breath.
“Who?” Angel asked. She raked his soles up and down with her fingers, and he batted about.
“Can’t say, won’t say,” he burst out laughing.
“They might kill you, officer,” I snapped. “But we definitely will if you don’t tell.” I tickled his neck and smirked as he shook his head back and forth. “Unless we get that feather.”
Time seemed to stand still as we waited for him to answer. “You do know we will, right?”
“You’re too ‘boy scout’ to tickle someone to death,” he spat. I had to laugh and smile.
“Never even joined them,” I joked, and poked his ribs again.
“Please, I … I can’t,” he said, laughing harder than we’d ever heard him laugh. His eyes closed and he sighed. “Its in the closet, third row to the left. The password is Kyak.”
I was stunned by his sudden turn about, but I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass us by. I had Angel on stand by, just in case he was pulling anything, and cheeked. Sure enough, a medium sized feather was laying there, carefully wrapped in paper. I grabbed for my cell phone, and made the call.
“You do realize I am going to say you two are guilty,” he growled in harsh breath, as Angel walked towards me. “You have no evidence other than that, and that can be easily planted.”
“Good thing then that we recorded the whole thing,” Angel said with a smile. She pulled out her own cell phone, showing that it had picked up the audio. Officer Amkes saw it, swallowed and nearly collapsed on the couch. Angel and I had done it, our first case had been solved.
************
The family was out that night, celebrating our first case, and I guess I could have joined them, but I was busy with other matters. Kelly wiggled and giggled on my lap as I tickled her ribs and kissed her lips. Her tan skin shimmered in the light of the lamp in my den, her brown hair, with its blonde highlights tickled my nose as she moved.
“I was worried about you,” she said, a little sassily. “Poisoned, nearly killed, threatened by some nut job who’d send you to jail… away from me.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you scare me like that again, mister.”
“Would you rather me be a police officer, and constantly worry about me in the streets?” I laughed, as she nibbled my ear.
“No,” she said, “I’d rather you stay here with me, and cuddle.”
“Cuddle, just cuddle?” I asked with a laugh.
Her brown eyes flashed mischievously and she winked, “Maybe… we could, make out some?” She was young, younger than me, but what the hell? She was cute, and she loved the way I treated her like a lady, and not just some hot body… though she liked that too. I tickled her underarms and brought her closer to me, the fireplace warming our bodies. “Careful, Mr. Virgin, you don’t want to get too excited,” she giggled.
“I’ll remember that,” I said with a laugh. Yeah, I’m a virgin, don’t like it? Get a grip! At anyrate the fact that I am… and am waiting for the right girl before I do it, makes Kelly hot… haha, well according to her.
“And I just might wait for you to say I’m the right girl,” she giggled, moving in and taking another taste of me, pressing her smooth, velvet lips against mine.
“Even if it takes a million years?” I teased.
“I can be patient for things I want, Navey,” she said, the only person to use that name for me. “You never know, handsome.”
I settled down with her, kissing her, and running my fingers across her back. Soon we were resigned to cuddle, and then slipped into a sweet slumber, the first one I had in weeks. What the next couple of cases had in mind for me, I could not say, but to be damned with those cases, and those days. Right now, I had everything I wanted. And I was content.
Longest story I've ever done, but its done, now on to case number two!
Case One: The Golden Feather
Hi, let me introduce myself to you. The name is… well, believe it or not, Navel. Yeah I said Navel, as in belly button. My parents were damn hippies. You have no idea how many times I got teased about that as a kid. My dad was a police officer, hehe, yeah a police officer who was a hippie. Don’t ask me how that happened, but it did. Mom was content on staying home with us twelve. Yep I said twelve, and no we aren’t Mormons and yes, both parents practiced birth control. They just wanted us, and decided they were going to have us, is all.
Years have passed, and following his death, I decided to walk in the man’s footsteps, and become a police officer, but for some reason, I never could make it in the academy. So I became a private detective, followed soon by my little sister, Angel. Yes, of course, she was the one to get the interesting and normal name, but of course, had mother had her way, she would have been named, Prancing Pony.
Neither she, nor I are of you your typical detectives though. While we do investigate things that involve murder, theft, destruction of property, and people threatening others, the main issue always revolves around tickling. And it all started with the Case of the Golden Feather.
************
I was sleeping well, and very hard. The other night had been rough, going through the paperwork, signing the lease. I believe I was snoring when I heard the door open though my subconscious, and the tiny pitter patter of footsteps.
“Go away,” I snapped grumpily.
“Got a case,” Angel answered with her chirpy way.
“Good, let me know about it when I wake up.” I folded the covers tighter over me, and yawned big, hoping that would cause her to get the point.
I could hear her giggle, and walk over closer to me. “It’s seven o’clock, time to wake up anyway,” she whispered in my ear.
“Too tired, must sleep,” I whimpered.
“Sure, keep sleeping and then the repo man can take that nice, soft bed you’re on.” There was a pause, and then my body tightened as I felt the soft, tender fingers run across the sides of my ribs. I fought the sensation, trying not to laugh or wiggle as much as I could. “Wake up, bro,” she teased.
“Not happening,” I said through clenched teeth.
She stood up, and sat on my back, her fingers wiggling faster, and a little harder. “You know I can do this all day, big brother,” she laughed. My body tightened even and I began laughing harder. Yeah, I knew she could do it longer, even all day if she had too, but that would not pay the rent. If the gentle, soft rib tickle would not get me up… oh shit.
I felt her lay across my back, as if I was the bed, her left hand still tickling me as infuriating slow and tenderly as she had when she started. But her right hand, her right hand I could not feel, but I could hear something slurping, and then the next thing I knew, a wet, icky feeling filled my right ear.
“Oh God,” I screeched like a little girl, bucking my sister off of me, as she lay on the bed, giggling like a maniac. My ear was soaked, and my ribs itched like crazy. “You know I hate the tickle wet willy attack!”
“Welcome to the land of the living, big brother,” Angel giggled and patted my head. “Lucky for me you sleep in pjs, I think I’d need a shrink if you leapt out of the bed nude.”
I gave her the look, and chuckled. I should thank my lucky stars Hope, Aura, Steph, Issy, Brianne or Robyn weren’t there. Three of them were older than me, Hope and Robyn were younger, like Angel. I remember once, when my brothers went out for a football try out, and I was left with the girls, and our little brother, they teamed up on me, held me down and tickle wet willied me to death almost.
“So who is this first client of ours, sis?” I asked, fully awake and headed for the bathroom.
“Some museum curator guy,” she said, waiting for me to get done. “A feather got stolen last night, and he wants us to try and find it.”
My eyebrows rose. “A feather?”
“A golden feather, supposed to be owned by Cleopatra herself, its worth millions of dollars.” She held out a tie, and I took it, dressing as fast as I could.
“Any suspects?” I asked.
“Gee Nave, not sure, maybe we should go and… ask the curator?” She smirked and poked me in my ribs to make me move faster.
“You’re so going to end up tickling me to death one of these days, little sis,” I laughed.
She smiled, shaking her head. “If I did that, who’d I annoy with tickling? Mitch? He ignores me a lot, the baby? Its fun, but I can’t annoy him.” She giggled and pushed me out the door, toward the car, and started it. And off we were, to the Centralville Museum.
************
The museum was a place of utter confusion. People were running around this way and that, and to be honest it gave me a fricking head ache. After fifteen minutes of trying to find the curator, and nearly giving up, we found the man in the bathroom, wringing his hands, and looking unsure of himself.
His name, or rather last name was Johnson. He was a thin, man, with sunk in eyes, colored blue gray, and had less hair than I did, which was colored white. Wrinkles adorned his face, and he rubbed his hands with worry. “What took you so long?” he whined, his voice just as cracked as his face.
Angel glared at him, poking him in the stomach, making him jump and chuckle. “You could have met us, my brother and I don’t appreciate wasting our time with nonsense, when we can use that time to solve this mystery and get paid.”
“I do understand,” he said rubbing his belly. “I was just very worried about the object in question. You see, it has very dangerous abilities.” He looked at us as if he expected that we were going to think he was nuts. He was indeed right. He sighed, and looked at Angel. “I told you that Cleopatra owned the feather, but she was not the original possessor of it, according to folklore.”
“Go on,” I said, folding my arms.
“It was passed down from generation to generation of Pharaohs, kings and queens of Egypt, possibly starting with King Scorpion himself!” His eyes sparkled, his excitement growing by history. Now I for one, love history, but when it gets in the way of my job… He inched away, and fixed his glasses. “I do so apologize. Anyway, whoever owns the feather, and uses the correct spell can actually use it to do anything to anyone. You could make them a zombie, make them your slave, make love to them without even going near them, tickle them insane with just a thought!”
I looked at my little sister, and she looked back. Okay this guy was a little bit off his rocker. Mystic powers? A feather that could make you do anything? “I suppose this was created by a god?” I asked with a laugh.
“Yes, Osiris. It was said to come from his headdress.”
Angel rolled her green eyes, making me laugh. “Look, I’m not sure about all of this, but I did some research, and I do admit the feather is a historical item at any rate. Very expensive to lose. Could you show us where it was when it was stolen?”
Professor Johnson sighed with disappointment, and nodded, “Come this way with me.” He lead us to the Egyptian area of the museum, which was taped off, and surrounded by police officers. “Its alright, they’re Private Investigators that the museum has hired,” he told the lead officer. The Hispanic police man looked at my sister and I, raising an eyebrow. He had short curly black hair, and a cut beard to match. His eyes were brown, and seemed to me at anyway to match his skin. He was a good three to five inches taller than me, and while not built like Arnold, he definitely had me beat when it came to well being sculpted. His name from what I could make out of it was something Amkes.
“I am not quite sure that you should have brought anyone else in here to investigate, Mr. Johnson,” he said. “We’ve just started the investigation, and I don’t agree with a public citizen with just a little learning…,”
Angel took out her license, and nudged me to take out mine. “I studied at the academy for a while, officer,” I told him. “And our father was an officer too, so we’re very familiar with the procedures.”
The officer sighed and batted his head back and forth. “Fine, but do not touch anything,” he snapped.
“Of course not,” I said with a smile. We passed by him, and the curator lead us into the main room of the Egyptian exhibit. There, in the middle of the room, was a large case, or it would have been a case, had glass not been scattered along the brownish orange floor, making very tiny rainbows as the lights above shone down on them. Immediately I knew that there was something wrong, though I could not place it. All I knew was that some one had not come into the museum and smashed the glass, not like an average thief anyway. I examined the glass, and the case, which was light brown, with a soft blue pillow on the top of the base. That itself was odd too. If someone had come in here, and smashed up the place, wouldn’t the pillow have fallen, or at least been displaced?
Angel was busy talking to the people in the room, writing things down. That was were her talents were best. She was everyone’s best friend, everyone’s little sister, or sometimes with kids in school, older sister. She was perky, and cheery, her emerald eyes glowing with light. She was the person you could joke with, or whose shoulder you could rest your head on and cry. And then she could be dark and serious, with her eyes dark as green waters of a loch. When she was like that, people usually spilled their guts, not wanting to anger her… which was in all reality a kind of falsehood, I’ve never seen her actually pissed. But she was good at it with her tone and eyes. Those eyes… it was all within those eyes.
Basically everyone had no problem talking to her, those people who worked there, the police, everyone was basically friendly with her, save for three people. The curator’s assistant; a short, chunky woman who I think was jealous of how cute Angel was. Then a night guard, a bone thin man with dark gray eyes and a vicious habit of cursing. There was also the secretary another woman, in her twenties, with blonde white hair, blue eyes, and the largest legs I’ve ever seen, with the tiniest feet I’ve ever seen. The fourth person was the lead investigating officer, who seemed really pissed that we were, as he called it, stealing his job.
I continued to exam the room, looking for clues, as she talked. It might have been very large, but at the same time, with all the people in the room, it was very claustrophobic. The walls seemed to swirl around me, and I could hardly breathe. Colors and smells meshed together, and before I knew what was happening, I was on the floor, holding my head tight. The last thing I heard was Angel’s frightened call to me, and the rushing of feet.
************
I woke up looking into the eyes of my oldest sister, Steph, who was running a hand across my face, her own fixed in worry. I tried smiling, trying not to sound or look as scared as I really was. “Hey there o sis of mine,” I joked, my voice cracked a little, dry from the lack of liquid in it.
“No jokes, babe,” she said, her eyes lightening, but her voice still full of worry. “You’ve been out for a whole day.” She must have seen me frown. “Angel was very worried, and that curator is under suspecion of poising you.”
“What?” I sat up, and dropped back to the bed.
“His secretary has admitted that he had been using an illegal spray in that room for days. No one knows why, but the police arrested him for it.”
My strength was coming back to me now, and I pushed myself up further, only to be shoved back, by my big sister. “You have to stay there and rest, kiddo. And I mean it, its not fair to give me a worry like this.”
“You freaked out when I was dating that female wrestler, Guilia for five months,” I joked.
“That’s different and you know it,” she snapped. Her dark brown flowed over her face, and she impatiently batted it away.
There was something she was standing there, that bothered me. “You didn’t tell Kelly, did you?”
“We’re not going to keep that kind of info from your own girlfriend,” Robyn cried out from a different room. I had to chuckle, damn that Robyn, the girl had ears like a hawk!
“And where’s Angel?” I asked, a little worried. After all if I was poisoned, then why not her?
“Still investigating,” Steph said, or rather snapped, as she reached over for a glass of water, and pushed it to my lips. “Now drink.” I obeyed my sis, gulping down the water she offered, and then rested my head. “No, she’s not poisoned too, she was lucky. And …,” she sighed. “Mitch did try to talk her out of continuing to investigate, but she wanted you to be happy and proud of her. She also said things didn’t add up.”
“That’s because they don’t,” I started, and stopped as she turned and looked at me. A shiver ran up my spine, but I was determined to continue. “Was I diagnosed with poison?” Her eyes told the story. “But its out of my system now?”
“Kind of a miracle wouldn’t you say, big bro?” Issy asked, smiling and blowing me a kiss from the door, before disappearing again.
“Too much a miracle,” I muttered.
“Nave,” Steph growled that big sister, substitute mother growl. She would have argued more, but swore and batted her head back and forth. “Too much like dad,” she sighed, plopping down next to me. “I could never get him to see common sense, and the same is with you.” She looked at me and smiled, tickling my sides.
“What is with the tickling of me by my sisters?” I laughed.
“Best way to tease, annoy, and show you we love you, babe,” Steph giggled, tickling my ribs. “Look, honey, I know you want to do this, because of dad, but you’re not dad, you’re you.”
“Really, I thought I was Kered,” I laughed, making reference to my other older brother. Steph rolled her eyes and punched my arm gently. I grimaced a little, but was now able to sit up. “Honestly though sis, things do not add up, I don’t think Professor Johnson had anything to do with this.”
“So, what suspects do you have?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure to be honest, I had a hunch it was someone who worked there though. “We’ll wait to get the info from Angel when she comes back, we might know more then.”
As if I had said the magic words, we could hear the family car roar up the drive way and the slam of doors, followed by footsteps waling up to the house. A few minutes later, Angel walked in the door, Mitch kept an eye on her from the hall and then went into the bathroom.
“Well good to see you up, bro,” she said. A second later she rushed over to me and hugged me tighter than I’d ever been hugged before.
“Missed ya,” I said.
“What…ever, Mr. Rip van Winkle,” she giggled. “Anyway there’s two people whose alibis match.” She giggled again and wiggled as she stared at my blank face.
“Just how long was I out for?” I asked. It normally took a good week to track down alibis, see if they weren’t covering for their mark, and usually took more than one person to absolutely prove that a person was where they said they were.
She continued to giggle and wiggle, something everyone, including herself, found odd. “Just a couple of days,” she said through her giggling. Her hands batted the air a little, but she struggled to ignore what was happening. “The night guard is the only one whose alibi didn’t match,” she laughed, her eyebrows folding down, as her hands batted around her waist as she wiggled.
“What are you doing?” I asked, watching her, sitting up. Steph tried to help her, but Angel shrieked with laughter and dropped to the floor, her face turning red as she held up her left arm high above her head and thrashed. Normally her giggles and laughter was beautiful and charming, but this was freaking me out.
“Stop it,” she cried through her laughter, stop,” she wiggled, tears running down from her cheeks as her right hand fluttered to her left pit, trying to grab something we could not see away from that area. “Shit it tickles, make it stop,” she cried and began howling with laughter again. Then her right arm went above her head, and she screamed with laughter harder.
“Babe, what the hell?” Steph asked, kneeling next to Angel, her eyes hard with worry. My sister looked up at me, as if asking what the fuck was going on, only to see her worry matched in my own eyes.
Angel thrashed on the floor, screaming, crying, and laughing. Soon her toes were wiggling and flexing, as if someone was torturing her feet. The family, one by one, hurried in to see what was going on, Mitch finally pushing his way through, and upon assessing the situation, hurried into his room, getting some things and a book of prayers or spells if you prefer that, but let’s not be picky, and began a ritual that soon, well… as best as I can describe, exorcised whatever it was that was torturing our sister.
That feather, I knew then that the curator had spoken the truth, and I also knew that the room had not truly been poisoned. I let the family know that. “Someone used it to poison me.”
“That’s crazy talk, babe,” Steph said, frowning.
“Why not both of you?” Issy wanted to know.
“Because I am betting that whoever did it, was busy with Angel, and couldn’t attack her directly there at the scene without exposing themselves,” Mitch explained. He turned to look at Angel, and blinked. “Who were you talking to, when Nave went down?”
She thought for a moment, and nodded her head, “It was the police officer, that Amkes guy.”
My jaw dropped, he’d never even been a suspect in this whole thing, though I could tell he had been angry and jealous of us, why would he steal the feather? Or even go near it?
“Richard Amkes?” Kered asked. We nodded our head, that was his first name, I remembered it then. My big brother frowned, and went to a few news papers clippings that our father loved to collect. A few minutes later, he came back and plopped them down onto the bed. “He had been a night guard at the museum for a while, when he had been put on temporary leave for some kind of dispute.”
“He’d know about the feather, and how to get to it,” I said. “He’d also probably have a partner to help him. That’s why the glass looked so odd, it was laying out of the pedestal, as if someone burst the glass from the inside, not the outside. I‘m willing to bet there‘s some secret compartment that leads from one of the rooms to that glass display.”
“The night watchman,” Angel said with a nod. She looked at her notes, then the clippings. “They worked together at the same time too.”
“Then its time we meet with this officer of the peace, and get that feather back,” I said with grim determination.
“Wait,” Mitch handed us some things, “Just to keep you two safe from the power of that feather.”
“How do you know he’ll even cooperate with you, he is a bad guy after all,” Hope asked.
I smiled, looking at my sister, who winked at me. “Oh, I think Angel can take care of that.” She giggled, and her eyes filled with hunger for vengeance.
Before we went, Mitch gave us one last aid, casting a spell that would allow the officer to fall asleep, before we got there. No need in him trying to run away once he found out we were on our way, or try to use the feather in a different way. Calling a friend of our father, we tipped him off to the accomplish and then we were off.
************
We arrived at his house an hour later, and once we snuck into the building, found him fast asleep on the couch. Wasting no time, Angel and I secured him with some rope, and waited for him to awake. His brown eyes flashed with anger and surprise. “What is the meaning of this?” he barked.
“You are the one who took the feather,” I said, leaning down, with a smile. “All the evidence points right to you.”
“You are fucking insane, and making the biggest mistake you’ve ever made,” he growled. “Untie me at once.”
“Sure, once you confess and give us that feather,” Angel cooed.
“You two are going to jail for this, you bastard and bitch,” he hissed. He thrashed around. He was wearing civilian clothes, his shirt was a green design tee shirt, with blue jeans. He had been wearing a military hat, but that got knocked off as he had thrashed.
“You do have the feather, and we need you to confess and give it back,” I said. “Not only that, but you tried to poison me with it, and you tortured my sis with it.” His eyes flashed shock and he turned away. “See, you are guilty, won’t even look at me.”
“So I took the damn thing, so fucking what?” he hissed in defeat, “I ain’t going to give it to ya, and once I get out of here, I’ll have you two arrested for it.” He smiled. “Perhaps then I can really go to town on your cute little sis, I was just getting warmed up with her, when whatever you did stopped my fun.”
“Oh?” she asked. She smiled and leaned next to his soles, wiggling her fingers across his arches. She smiled as he jumped and held his breathe. “I do owe you for that, huh?” she said with a smile.
“You could prevent it,” I said with a smile, poking his ribs. He jumped and looked at me. “I normally do not go out and tickle a guy,” I explained. “So that’s the worst you’ll get it from me… but,” I smiled and wiggled my finger in his ribs, “my sis will most definitely give you, your money’s worth!” I leaned up against his face, feeling his warm breathe against my cheek. “Unless you want to tell us where that feather is.”
“Bite, me,” he swore.
“Good idea,” Angel giggled. With the speed of a leapard, she gently clamped down on his feet and toes, and chewed playfully, running her tongue between his toes. Amkes, leapt form the couch, his eyes going wide from our tickling, and erupted with laughter. “Nummy, nummy,” she purred as she nibbled, “these are so good, you simply must give me the recipe,” she teased.
“Make her stop,” he cried, his eyes full of water. I smirked and waved my hand, trying to distract my sis.
“You ready to talk?” I asked with a laugh.
“Get bent, you loser,” he growled, gasping for air, his face so red that it looked like a tomato.
“Not nice,” Angel snapped, and shot up to his stomach, digging her fingers into it. “Say your sorry,” she snarled. “My brother is not a loser.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he screamed, batting about like a fish out of water. “Please, okay, alright, I’m sorry,” he collapsed into silent laughter and shook his head.
“Now tell us where that feather is,” she said, harshness still in her voice.
“I don’t have it,” he cried with laughter.
“Where is it?” she demanded, sounding even more harsh, her fingers working their way up into his armpits, like tiny, very hungry spiders. They nested in his hallows, and waited for his response, which was nothing more than a whimper. Geez this guy acted tough, but when push came to shove, he seemed to either want this, or was as my sis likes to call guys who tickle girls aggressively, but act like butter when they’re being tickled themselves, a wuss. “Okay then,” she sighed. I held up his ropes tighter, to keep him from thrashing too hard, and she went to town.
His laughter and screams bounced off the walls, seemingly crashing into the windows. I halfway expected the police to show up because some neighbor would decide something was definitely wrong. But no officer ever did show up. Not at that point anyway. Angel was literally a tickle artist, her fingers her tools. She’d tickle hard, to really get the point across, and then soft, fluttering her fingertips across his pits, and down to his ribs, and back to his sides. We’d let him have a break for a while, as a dead or unconscious confession was no good to us. I gave him some water to drink, and Angel dried him off a little with a towel, but time was getting away from us, and we both knew it… problem was, so did he. I knew then that fretter as he was, he wasn’t a wuss, he was not about to tell us what we wanted to know, and I guessed why too.
“You didn’t steal that feather for yourself, did you, Officer Amkes?” He looked at me with shock and turned away. “You’re working for someone, perhaps not a lackey, but maybe doing a job for them?”
Angel looked at me and blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Ask him,” I said jokingly. She grinned and reached down to tickle his toes again, Amkes literally leapt off the couch. “I knew it.”
“I can’t tell you,” he grumbled. Angel forced her finger into between his second and third toes and wiggled it, making the man scream and kick, but she was holding onto his ankle like a vise. “Please, I … I can’t tell.”
“Why not?” I demanded, poking him in the ribs.
“They’d kill me,” he cried, trying to hold in his breath.
“Who?” Angel asked. She raked his soles up and down with her fingers, and he batted about.
“Can’t say, won’t say,” he burst out laughing.
“They might kill you, officer,” I snapped. “But we definitely will if you don’t tell.” I tickled his neck and smirked as he shook his head back and forth. “Unless we get that feather.”
Time seemed to stand still as we waited for him to answer. “You do know we will, right?”
“You’re too ‘boy scout’ to tickle someone to death,” he spat. I had to laugh and smile.
“Never even joined them,” I joked, and poked his ribs again.
“Please, I … I can’t,” he said, laughing harder than we’d ever heard him laugh. His eyes closed and he sighed. “Its in the closet, third row to the left. The password is Kyak.”
I was stunned by his sudden turn about, but I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass us by. I had Angel on stand by, just in case he was pulling anything, and cheeked. Sure enough, a medium sized feather was laying there, carefully wrapped in paper. I grabbed for my cell phone, and made the call.
“You do realize I am going to say you two are guilty,” he growled in harsh breath, as Angel walked towards me. “You have no evidence other than that, and that can be easily planted.”
“Good thing then that we recorded the whole thing,” Angel said with a smile. She pulled out her own cell phone, showing that it had picked up the audio. Officer Amkes saw it, swallowed and nearly collapsed on the couch. Angel and I had done it, our first case had been solved.
************
The family was out that night, celebrating our first case, and I guess I could have joined them, but I was busy with other matters. Kelly wiggled and giggled on my lap as I tickled her ribs and kissed her lips. Her tan skin shimmered in the light of the lamp in my den, her brown hair, with its blonde highlights tickled my nose as she moved.
“I was worried about you,” she said, a little sassily. “Poisoned, nearly killed, threatened by some nut job who’d send you to jail… away from me.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you scare me like that again, mister.”
“Would you rather me be a police officer, and constantly worry about me in the streets?” I laughed, as she nibbled my ear.
“No,” she said, “I’d rather you stay here with me, and cuddle.”
“Cuddle, just cuddle?” I asked with a laugh.
Her brown eyes flashed mischievously and she winked, “Maybe… we could, make out some?” She was young, younger than me, but what the hell? She was cute, and she loved the way I treated her like a lady, and not just some hot body… though she liked that too. I tickled her underarms and brought her closer to me, the fireplace warming our bodies. “Careful, Mr. Virgin, you don’t want to get too excited,” she giggled.
“I’ll remember that,” I said with a laugh. Yeah, I’m a virgin, don’t like it? Get a grip! At anyrate the fact that I am… and am waiting for the right girl before I do it, makes Kelly hot… haha, well according to her.
“And I just might wait for you to say I’m the right girl,” she giggled, moving in and taking another taste of me, pressing her smooth, velvet lips against mine.
“Even if it takes a million years?” I teased.
“I can be patient for things I want, Navey,” she said, the only person to use that name for me. “You never know, handsome.”
I settled down with her, kissing her, and running my fingers across her back. Soon we were resigned to cuddle, and then slipped into a sweet slumber, the first one I had in weeks. What the next couple of cases had in mind for me, I could not say, but to be damned with those cases, and those days. Right now, I had everything I wanted. And I was content.
Longest story I've ever done, but its done, now on to case number two!
I hope it will be! We will see!
