"For Kit's Sake"
Authors: Robert Brown

Disclaimer: This story uses characters created and copyrighted by Disney
            (except where noted, in which case they were created and
            copyrighted by us or by another and we have permission to use
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Quick Author's Note: Uh...yeah.  Knee surgery, new apartment, and a bunch of
less savory problems.  Just in case any of you were wondering why it took so
long to get this out.  That's why.  Let's hope I can pick this up this year.
I think this is a good story and I want to get it out before I don't.  Cross
your fingers.

Chapter 3: Ghosts of the Past

	"You're going to kill me."
	The words hung in the air like a poison that Baloo could not help but 
draw into his lungs.  Whenever something went wrong, Becky usually found a way
to spin it into being his fault.  And by his own admission, it usually was.  
That she was accepting responsibility for whatever had happened, not to 
mention she was expecting and apparently condoning his anger, shook him to the
core.  "What'd you do Becky?"  he said with what was supposed to be a laugh
but came out a wheeze as he pulled the remnants of the party off and dropped
them into a corner.  "Did you sell my plane or something?"
	"Worse," she moaned, letting her face fall into her palms.
	Baloo swallowed to try and moisten his suddenly dry throat.  "I'm...
fired?"
	Rebecca's head whipped up, a look of disgust on her face.  "Don't be
ridiculous," she snapped.  "If I were going to fire you, I'd have more tact
than to do it after a party I helped plan for you."
	He pulled his hat off and wiped his forehead.  "Then what?"  he asked,
frustration seeping into his voice.
	"Sit down Baloo and I'll tell you."
	"I'll stand."  Baloo had never heard those words followed by good news,
which usually meant he'd be standing up out of the chair in a moment anyway.
	Rebecca nodded absently, letting her arms fall on the desk.  "I had a 
visitor today," she started, her voice halting, "a Mr. Sripe who was asking 
questions about Kit.  I thought he worked for the hospital or the school 
because he said he was here for a follow-up interview.  I didn't think 
anything of it until his questions started getting a little too personal.
	"I couldn't understand why he was asking about Kit's time with the Air
Pirates and I said as much.  That's when he told me that he was with Child
Protective Services looking into why Kit isn't adopted and whether or not he
should be here."
	Baloo clenched his fists so hard that his arms were trembling.  How 
could she fall for something like that?  He learned the hard way not to take
someone at their look.  Guys like that were slick; they'd go ahead and let you
think whatever you wanted until you noticed something was off.  And by then it
was already too late to do anything about it.  "That's how they operate," he 
ground out, his teeth locked together.  "You made a mistake Becky, but this 
guy is making a bigger one if he thinks he's taking Kit from me."
	"I tried to stop him," she said hurriedly.  "I offered to adopt Kit 
myself since he didn't think you'd be able to, being a single pilot whose job
takes him away from home a lot.  But...."  
	"But what?"  Baloo demanded when her voice broke.
	She seemed to wilt in her chair under his gaze and Baloo's stomach 
turned at how fragile she suddenly looked.  "It doesn't matter," she said in
a weak and tired voice.  "It was only a threat to make me back down.  I don't
think he'd actually--"
	"Rebecca," he said, cutting her off in a low, firm voice, "tell me what
he said."
	"He said I might lose Molly if I tried!"  she shouted, tears falling 
from her eyes.  
	Baloo's anger grew exponentially at those words.  "He threatened you?"
he growled, his voice slipping into a darker, more feral range.  "Where's 
Molly?"
	Rebecca leaned back in her chair until it almost tipped over, afraid of
Baloo's anger yet simultaneously comforted that it was because of what had 
happened to her.  "She's home with the babysitter.  She didn't want to come 
with me today because Kit was going back to school.  
	"I panicked Baloo," she continued, babbling in her nervousness.  "I 
couldn't let him just come in here and take Kit or Molly from us.  I had to 
do something so he'd just leave, so I just said the first thing that came to 
mind."
	"Let me guess," he groaned, putting his hands on her desk and leaning 
forward until it creaked in protest.  "Whatever you said made him so mad that
he's off getting the police right now to come and arrest us.  Am I close?"
	"N-No," she stammered.  "In fact, it actually worked."
	"It did?"  Baloo asked in surprise.  At her frightened nod, he forced 
himself to calm down, realizing just how he must look at that moment.  Sure he
flew off the handle at times, but he rarely got so angry that he scared those 
who were close to him.  "Becky, you are the worst liar I've ever known," he 
said, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood.  "What did you possibly come 
up with that he believed?"
	She looked down at the engagement ring that once more adorned her 
finger.  "I told him that we were engaged and that we would be getting married
soon."  She closed her eyes, steeling herself against the laughter that she 
was sure was coming.  
	But it didn't.  Rebecca waited a few minutes, just in case Baloo was in
too much shock to react right away.  Still nothing.  She opened her eyes to 
see why Baloo hadn't told her what a fool she was, but she was not prepared 
for what she saw.  
	Baloo's face was like stone.  No, she realized, stone would have more 
warmth to it.  The chill behind his expressionless eyes was so deep that it 
froze the breath in her throat; if she had been capable of speech she was 
positive it would have misted the air.  
	Baloo looked at her for a long moment with that same blank expression 
before turning around and lumbering for the door.  Rebecca forced her 
surprised body into motion, lurching to block the door that led to the Sea
Duck.  But Baloo wasn't heading that way.  He opened the door that led to the 
street and slammed it shut behind him before she knew what was happening.
	Rebecca slid down to the ground, staring at the still quivering door.
She had never seen Baloo like that.  His face, and especially his eyes, had 
always shown emotion.  Fear, joy, anger, there was always something.  But what
she had just seen....  If she didn't know better, she would've thought she was
looking the eyes of a corpse.
	"Boy, you've really done it now Miz Cunningham," Kit remarked, walking
slowly down the stairs.  
	"Done?"  she asked, sounding less bewildered than she actually was.
"What have I done?  All I did was keep that guy from taking you away from 
Baloo.  I don't understand."
	Kit hopped up into Baloo's chair and sighed.  "I do appreciate it, and
when Papa Bear calms down I'm sure he will too.  But there are things you 
don't know about him and I'm not sure I should be telling you this.  I'm not 
even supposed to know about it but Wildcat let it slip one day."
	Rebecca hugged her knees to her chest, staring at Kit over the violet
fabric.  "I need to know Kit," she whispered.  Kit didn't look so sure, but he
chose not to argue about it.  Rebecca didn't know what she was going to hear, 
but she had a feeling that it would change everything she had ever known or 
thought about Baloo.
	While Kit was beginning his tale, Baloo wandered through the mostly 
empty streets of Cape Suzette, letting his feet take him wherever they wanted.
Whenever this discussion came up, infrequently though it did, he always had to
take a walk to try and drive the memories away.  No, that wasn't true.  He was
running away, from the memories and the conversation, and he knew it.  But he
didn't know any other way to handle it.
	A group of students from the local high school, juniors and seniors by 
the look of them, ambled drunkenly down the street toward him.  Some of them 
were definitely a bit too young to drink, but Baloo knew from experience that
the law was often overlooked for the right price.  He'd certainly done it 
himself at that age.
	As they passed Baloo, one of them tripped drunkenly against the older 
bear's side.  "Hey, watsh it!"  the teen slurred, giving Baloo as much of a
shove as his uncoordinated muscles would allow.  "You lookin to shtart 
sumtin Gramps?"
	Either the shove or the crack about his age would've normally been 
enough to put Baloo in a fighting mood.  But he just calmly walked around 
them, ignoring their taunts and curses, and kept on his way.  Even the empty
bottle that shattered on the pavement behind him didn't make him turn around.
	When his feet finally stopped moving, he found himself sitting on a 
bench in the city's park under the glare of a solitary streetlamp.  "What has
Becky gotten me into?"  he moaned, putting his hand on his hat and sliding it
down his face.  "Why?  Of all the things she could've said, why did she have
to say that?"
	It had been almost twenty years since he'd heard those words associated 
with himself.  True, he and Rebecca had pretended to be married when he had 
to fool the Army, but that was for all of about five minutes and there had 
been no engagement or wedding.  He really doubted that this Mr. Stripe, or 
whatever his name was, would be so gullible.
	The last time he'd dealt with this had ended so badly he never wanted to
deal with those ideas again.  As much as he didn't want to, as much as he 
tried to fight it, Baloo found himself drawn into memories he had long ago 
thought buried.

*                                       *                                    *

	"Hey Louie, ain't it great?"  a twenty-one year old Baloo asked his best
friend.  "We can finally do this legally!"  In his hand was a Cape Suzette 
issued ID proclaiming his age, and his legal status to purchase alcohol.
	"Sounds like a plan man!"  a just slightly younger Louie said with a 
mouth-splitting grin.  "You grab the booze, I'll sweet talk Aunt Louise into
letting us use her place for the party, and maybe Wildcat will bring that band
he's in.  Man oh man Cuz, we're gonna tear it down tonight!"
	"As long as we don't have to rebuild it," Baloo quipped, slapping his 
buddy a highfive.  "See you in a couple hours, I gotta make me a beer run."
He sauntered down the street like he didn't have a care in the world, like he
owned the place.  And the way he was feeling, he might as well have owned it!
	He took great pleasure waltzing into Old Biskitt's liquor store down by 
the pier.  That gruff old collie had always chased him out of the store when
he'd tried to buy some alcohol.  Even now, the aged shopkeeper grabbed a broom
and lifted it above his head menacingly.  "If I told ya once, I told ya a 
hundred times," he said, glaring up at the bear in front of him, "I ain't 
selling no booze to no kid!"
	"Calm down old timer," Baloo said, keeping his hands at the ready just 
in case the geezer swung before he could explain himself.  "I ain't no kid no
more, and I got the proof right here."
	Biskitt snatched the card from Baloo's hand, turning on an overhead 
light to examine it properly.  He was pretty good at picking out the fakes; he
had decades of experience.  But this one looked as real as it got, even had 
the official seal and all.  "Let me guess," he said, tapping the card against
the counter.  "You just turned legal and you're gonna throw a nice big party
to celebrate."
	"That's the idea," Baloo confirmed, puffing out his chest a little.
	"With at least fifty of your friends?"
	"More like a hundred."
	"And I suppose there's gonna be some hot looking dames in attendance?"
	"Would it be a party without them?"  Baloo countered.
	"Then what are you standing around here for?"  the old dog asked, 
flipping the ID back to Baloo.  "Come on!  I got the good stuff in the back!"
When the old guy said "the good stuff", he meant the good stuff!  All Baloo 
had been looking to get was a keg or two of beer.  But Old Biskitt gave him a
lot more, some of it Baloo had never seen before.  He even offered to be the
bartender for the party!
	And what a party it was.  It seemed like everyone Baloo had ever known
had turned out, and everyone was having a great time.  The music was loud, the
drinks were flowing, and the whole house was shaking.  And Baloo loved every 
single minute of it.
	Well, not quite.  He could hold his own in a beer-drinking contest even
at this age, but the harder stuff wasn't going down as smoothly.  Combine that
with the beat of Wildcat's band and the smoky atmosphere, he needed some fresh 
air.  He hoped no one would notice the birthday boy leaving his own party; 
he'd never be able to live that down.
	One he cleared the front door and jogged down a short flight of stairs,
his head started to clear.  "Oh man," he moaned, rubbing his stomach, "I 
wonder if I'll ever get used to that."
	"It might help if you have something to eat first," a very feminine and
very sensual purr rumbled behind him.  "I've found that it keeps me from 
getting drunk longer and doesn't let me get as drunk.  That way I can have 
more fun."
	Baloo spun around to find the source of that voice, letting out a 
muttered curse at the sudden movement.  Once the world stopped spinning, he 
noticed an attractive female feline leaning against the corner of the house
gazing at him.  The way her green eyes glowed in the dark, it was like he was
the only thing she cared about seeing.
	Once he was able to tear his eyes from hers, he realized one thing: 
attractive was an understatement.  This exotic lady was unlike any feline he'd
ever seen.  Her reddish-brown fur was dotted with light brown spots surrounded
by black spots in a pattern that vaguely reminded him of roses.  Two black 
stripes adorned each side of her face and her green eyes were ringed with pure
white fur.  Her bright red hair fell straight down her back to the base of her
tail which swayed calmly behind her.
	Despite her exotic looks, her clothes were decidedly pedestrian.  A 
black short-sleeved blouse matched with black slacks and low heels of the same
shade.  But what it may have lacked in style, it also lacked in modesty.  The
clothes must have been a size or two too small for how tightly they fit, which
meant they left nothing to the imagination.  "I guess I had more to drink than
I thought," Baloo mumbled.  "There's no way anyone like her could be real."
	"Oh I'm very real birthday boy," she purred again, sashaying toward him
with a predatory grin.  Baloo could only watch as she stopped right in front 
of him and extended a claw and ran it down his cheek.  "Very, very real."
	"So I see!"  He winced when his voice broke into a very unmanly squeak,
expecting her to laugh at him.  She did laugh, but instead of being mocking,
it was a low, rumbling giggle that set every nerve in his body firing.  
	The ocelot splayed her hands across Baloo's chest, smiling when she felt
the big bear shiver.  "I'd heard tonight was supposed to be a birthday party
for a bear named Baloo," she said, smiling up at him in a way that made his
heart race.  "And yet, I haven't seen a single present.  Kind of unfair if you
ask me."
	"N-never thought about it like that," he stuttered, swallowing hard in a
failed attempt to regain his composure.
	She slid her arms up around his neck and tugged his head down toward 
hers.  "Isn't it a good thing I'm here then?"  she whispered, her sweet breath
tickling his nose.  "I guarantee my present will make up for all the ones you
didn't get."
	"Does my present have a name?"  Baloo murmured, closing his eyes as his
head tilted to the side.  
	"Myriam," was the only word she whispered before her lips were on his.
Baloo was no stranger to being kissed, though admittedly he was the one who 
usually inititated it.  What Myriam did with just her lips against his made 
him so jelly-legged that he found himself down on one knee by the time she 
ended it.  "I knew I was good," she growled with a throaty chuckle, "but I 
think this is the first time I've been proposed to after just a kiss."
	Baloo laughed with her as he stood up, surprised at how hard it was to 
stay steady.  "Talk about your unforgettable birthday gifts," he whispered, 
unable to make a louder sound than that.
	Myriam arched a delicate eyebrow, her lips pursing in a delicate pout.
"Oh hun, that wasn't the gift."
	"It wasn't?"
	She shook her head, her red mane cascading out behind her.  "That was 
just the nametag," she said, hooking her finger into his shirt.  "Why don't we
find a nice, quiet room where you can...unwrap the rest of it?"
	What occurred that night, and well into the next morning, was the start
of a whirlwind romance that was defined by friends, fun, and passion.  Both 
Baloo and Myriam were quickly accepted into each other's circle of friends,
and they all often went out together and partied until after the sun rose.  
But Baloo and Myriam also took time for themselves, learning more and more 
about each other and even going on a few "official" dates.  
	They both expected the burst of passion they'd experienced at the start
to fade somewhat as time went on, as these things often did.  But in their 
case, it never wavered for a second and only grew brighter and hotter the more
time they spent together.  They often joked about how the flames would one day
consume them, but they were happy to ride it out for as long as they could.
	When Baloo realized that their two-year anniversary was approaching, he
took a long, hard look at those two years and discovered something.  The life
they'd been living was the life he wanted to keep living, he just wanted to 
make it more permanent.  He couldn't believe that with all his hard partying
ways, he'd finally found someone he was willing to spend the rest of his days
with.
	But Myriam was a wild spirit, which was one of the things he loved about
her.  She hated to be tied down in any way, and he was worried that letting 
her know how he felt might drive her away.  There had to be some way to put it
so that she wouldn't immediately reject the idea.  It took a while, with help 
from both her friends and his, but eventually he thought he had something that
she might listen to.
	He made his move on a bright Sunday afternoon.  It was a little 
tradition they had between them to go down by the docks and watching the 
planes as they took off and landed.  Myriam loved to watch them disappear 
through the far-off opening in the cliffs.  To her, that sight represented the
ultimate freedom: leaving whenever you wanted and going wherever you liked.
"Mark my words Baloo," she said like she had every Sunday since they started
this, "one day I'm gonna fly out of those cliffs and see what the world has to
offer me."
	"I believe you Kittycat," he said, putting his arm around her.  "In 
fact, that day might be a little closer than you think."
	She turned to look at him with a wary gaze.  "I know that tone," she 
said, crossing her arms over her chest.  "What do you have planned Bigbear?"
	"Hey, has ol' Baloo ever let you down?"  
	Myriam rolled her eyes, but she said nothing as he led her toward one of
the far docks.  A large, tarp covered object awaited them, and her breath 
caught in her throat as she realized what kind of shape it made.  "Baloo, you 
didn't," she whispered, staring at the item in awe and a bit of fear.
	Baloo waggled his eyebrows and pulled away the tarp, revealing a bright
yellow Conwing L-16.  "Do you think you could get away in this?"  he asked,
fiddling with the canvas while not looking at her directly.  
	She opened up the door and walked inside.  "This is amazing," she said,
looking and touching everything.  She tried the cargo doors, sat in the 
pilot's seat, and flipped a few random switches just to see what they would
do.  "This is a dream come true.  But you can't afford this!  You don't even
have a job."
	"Two words hun: gorilla birds."
	"But you hate those things!"
	Baloo just shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.  When she arched her 
eyebrow in the way that meant "you really expect me to accept that?", he 
sighed and continued.  "They weren't too bad to deal with.  Especially because
the owner let me knock their heads a couple times on the trips we made.  
Besides, it was worth it for you, even if I did have to blow off a couple of 
dates to do it."
	Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, but then they narrowed as one
thing he said broke through the fluff.  "Wait.  Trips?"  she asked, stressing
the fact that it was plural.  "I may not know too much about planes, but I 
know that just one trip would've been enough to buy this."
	"Yeah, but what good's a plane without a license?"  he pointed out, 
flashing his brand new license for her.  "Not to mention we need fuel, both 
for the plane and for us, as well as money to spend in case we find something
we want."
	"You keep saying 'we' a lot Bigbear," she said in a light voice, but he
could hear the nervousness behind her words.  "You trying to tell me 
something?"
	"Actually, I'm hoping you'll tell me something," Baloo countered, 
dropping down on one knee and pulling a black box from his pocket.  "And what
I'm really hoping to hear," he said, opening the box up and showing her the
engagement ring inside, "is 'yes'."
	Myriam's hand flew up to cover her mouth, her green eyes wider than he
had ever seen them.  The way she looked from him to the ring and back again, 
he worried he'd made a mistake and immediately started babbling to try and 
convince her.  "We could go wherever we wanted in the plane, and when we got
tired for a bit we could come back here and hang out with the crowd until we
wanted to take off again, like having a base to come back home to and--"
	His words were cut off by a Myriam's lips crashing down on his as her
body pushed him down to the floor.  "You had me at 'we' Baloo," she purred
happily.
	"Does that mean--"
	She cut him off again by snatching the ring out of the box and slipping
it on her left hand.  "I never thought I'd be saying this, but I've got a 
wedding to plan."
	And boy did she.  Baloo had expected a simple thing, like a giant party
with all their friends.  But Myriam wouldn't hear of it; she may have never 
thought she was going to get married, but if she was going to do it then she
was going to do it right.  That meant flowers, a church, dresses, and putting
an announcement in the local paper.  Her friends helped her out, especially 
with keeping the costs down, but Baloo was still glad he'd taken that second 
gorilla bird run.  But even with all they were doing, the girls managed to put
it together after only three months.
	When the big day came, Baloo stood in his place by the altar with Louie
and Wildcat as his best men.  He was nervous, almost ready to chicken out, but
with his friends by his side he knew he could see it through.  Thinking about
what the future held for him and Myriam also helped.
	The noon bells rang out and the organ music swelled into the wedding 
march.  "This is it," he thought, straightening his tie.  Any second now 
Myriam would appear out of those doors and walk down that aisle toward him.
	But it didn't happen.  The organ was playing the music a second time and
she still didn't appear.  A bad feeling settled into the pit of his stomach as
he lumbered up the carpeted aisle, calling out for her and her friends.
	When he reached the back, her friends were there but she wasn't.  They 
all spread out across town to look for her, but Baloo already knew where to 
look.  He hurried down to the docks where the Sea Duck waited, the very place 
he had proposed to her.  If any answers awaited him, they'd be there.
	The hot sun beat down on him as he ran over the wooden planks, Louie and
Wildcat close on his heels.  A sparkle of light in one of the wooden posts 
brought him to a stop.  There, wedged in the wood, was the very engagement 
ring that he'd given her, the symbol of their promise to each other, a promise
that was now broken.
	Baloo's hand closed over the ring and yanked it from its resting place,
showering the water with wooden splinters.  He was vaguely aware of Louie and
Wildcat trying to comfort him, but he couldn't hear what they were saying with
the roar of his blood pounding in his ears.  With a cry born of anger and 
despair, he reared back and flung the ring out into the water, his eyes locked
on it until it sank beneath the waves.
	"Never again," he growled, shoving past Louie and Wildcat to head for 
his plane.  They tried to stop him, tried to reason with him, but he was far 
beyond that already.  Without another word to them he started the plane up and
took off, determined to see the world even if he had to do it alone.

*                                       *                                    *

	Baloo opened his eyes as the memories faded away, banished back to the 
depths of his mind.  As soon as he'd gotten back from his world tour of 
drinking, carousing, and carrying on, he'd spent what little money there was 
left on a little shack by the docks that he'd turned into Baloo's Air Service.
Wildcat had turned up one day and built himself a little workshop at the edge 
of one of the piers and Baloo hadn't the heart to turn him away.  Besides, he 
had built those sweet overdrive engines for the Duck in return.
	He hadn't really cared about the business, but it was a way to kill 
time and keep out of trouble.  That was why he took a loan on it in the first 
place, not realizing that his plane was part of the package.  All to keep 
himself from being tied down, a fight he thought he was still fighting.
	As much as he hated to admit it, he'd already been tied down hadn't he?
As soon as he'd accepted Kit into his life he was forced to think about 
someone other than himself.  He'd even given up the occasional alcohol he 
drank just so he wouldn't be a bad role model.  The kid had a lot of dreams 
and he'd need a sober head to reach most of them.
	It hadn't taken more than a couple days for Molly to worm her way into 
his heart, and she wasn't ever leaving.  But then, he didn't think anyone in
the world, with the exception of maybe Shere Khan, could resist the charm of
that pigtailed button-nose.  And even that was debatable on the right days.
She had a heart of gold and the fur to match.
	Then there was Rebecca.  He'd be lying if he said he had no feelings for
his boss.  He'd been hard pressed to ignore them in the weeks since Kit's 
injury, but he thought he'd been doing a good job.  He'd hoped they'd die down
now that Kit was back in school and he wasn't around her as much.  But that 
didn't matter anymore.
	All that mattered now was if everyone in his life was enough to make him
put himself on the line just one more time.  Kit...Molly...Rebecca....  "Now
that's a dumb question if I ever thought of one," he muttered, leveraging his 
body off the bench.
	Back at Higher for Hire, Rebecca's tears had not stopped since Kit had
started his story.  "How could she?"  she whispered once Kit had finished.
"How could she just...leave him like that?"
	"I wish I knew," Kit said, sinking back further into Baloo's chair.  
"But now I understand why Baloo was so hurt when it looked like I had turned
my back on him the first time with the Air Pirates."
	Rebecca just couldn't form a reply to that.  This went against so much 
of what she thought about Baloo, yet it all made perfect sense.  A part of 
her wished she still didn't know because she knew she would forever look at
him differently now.  But there was no way to unlearn it so all she could do
was hide the fact that she knew.
	Both her and Kit flinched when the door opened and Baloo walked in, 
looking as angry and serious as he had when he'd left.  "So," he said in a 
resigned voice at odds with his expression, "how do we make this work?"

TO BE CONTINUED