"The Greatest Discovery" Part Twelve A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.

Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com). John looked up from his breakfast and cocked his head to one side, studying his aunt. There was something about her that he couldn't quite figure out. He liked her, he even trusted her, after all, she had indulged him in whatever he wanted, even so far as to make arrangements for him to go back to the jungle. "How did you know I could read?" He asked finally. Kathleen looked up from her coffee and smiled. This house may be huge, but you can't keep a secret like that for long. Mary found a few books missing went looking for them and found them in your salon. John smiled. "Mary cleans too much." Kathleen laughed, "perhaps so, but I don't know what I would do without her." John was curious about that too. Richard had the same situation. There was always someone else around to do things for them. They didn't have to cook, clean, hunt or forage, everything was always there for them. "You are rich aren't you?" He really couldn't comprehend what that meant. "Yes John, WE are rich. You have your own money." He finished off his orange juice, bit into a thick piece of Texas toast and questioned. "I am rich?" he finished chewing and swallowing. "I don't understand how I can be rich. I don't have a job that I go to for pay like Jane; I don't own a company like you or like Richard. How can I be rich?"

Kathleen swallowed her mouthful of coffee and tried to organize her thoughts before she spoke, "Your father, my brother, was the principal stock holder in this company." John was lost there. She realized that and started over. "My father owned a small company, Greystoke. In his lifetime, Greystoke grew and made more money. The company bought other companies and continued to grow, making my father a very wealthy man. When my brother, your father was old enough, he began to work for my father; he went to school, got a very good education in business law and took over part of the company. When your uncle Richard was old enough, he too was given part of the company, as was I, when I became old enough. Your father was given what they call a controlling interest in the company." She could see the confusion in John's expression, but she went on, hoping that he would soon understand. "That means that even though my father, myself and Richard also owned part of the company, John, your father, was in charge. Like the chief. Now she could see the light go on in John's eyes. He was beginning to understand. This piece of knowledge made many things make sense. Now things started to fall into place. If John had not been found, his inheritance would have been split in equally between Richard and Kathleen. Richard wanted it all, so he fought Kathleen for it, while still looking for some sort of hope that John Sr. or Jr. had survived, that way, Richard had a better chance of getting the company away from Kathleen. This was why he wanted John in his good graces, so that he could control what John owned. Jane stared at her window, wishing that the Wild Man, from the newspaper would show up there. He had left abruptly this morning, he barely said good bye. What was on his mind lately? Jane began to worry that she had pushed him away so hard and so often that he had given up on her. She fretted that he might actually be learning to accept her as his friend and nothing more. Nikki knocked on the door and walked into the room to see Jane staring into the air. "You okay?" she asked. Nikki knew that John had a big hold on her sister, but she really didn't know what to make of their relationship. It wasn't a 'normal' relationship, not even for the obsessive/compulsive Jane. Jane smiled at her little sister. "Sometimes I wish I were 7 years old again and my biggest problem was learning how to ride my roller skates." Nikki agreed, but then she tried to show her the good side of being an adult. "Yeah, but when you were 7, you wouldn't have known that a man like John even existed, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to meet him, to hear about his world." Jane stopped Nikki from talking. "You know what Nik, John doesn't talk about his world." Had she been so selfish that she didn't want to hear about it, or was it just that he didn't want to talk about it, or need to talk about it? While the sisters continued to converse, the phone began to ring. Nikki ran to answer it and was gone for some time. Jane surmised that the call was for her. She tried to decide whether or not she should go out, or sit here and wait, or go back to bed. John had errands to do, but he needed to see Jane. He needed to feel her skin, to smell her hair, to be close to her. Sleeping in her arms last night had felt so good, he hadn't wanted to leave her, but he knew that if he didn't things might happen that she didn't want to happen; at least she kept saying that she didn't want them to happen. Her body language still kept telling him something else. Just as Jane was about to close the door to her bedroom, she heard the rap on the window. John had taken to knocking lately, especially in situations where he knew he would startle her. She was so pleased to see him, and this made John very happy. Jane even went so far as to embrace John in a welcoming hug. John was momentarily stunned. "Jane?" he questioned. She smiled and tugged on a lock of his hair in response. He laughed. This was not the Jane that he knew so well, this was another side to her, a side he was more than willing to get to know. This was not the right time though.

"Are you coming in for brunch?" Jane asked through the blush that John could cause on her so easily lately. He shook his head. 'What is brunch?" She laughed. "You say no, and then you ask what it is? Brunch is a late breakfast, early lunch." He shook his head, so many strange words. "Oh." She still had a lock of his hair in her hands and was holding it quite tightly. "Is something wrong Jane?" he asked, gently pulling her hand out of his hair. She blushed again and smiled. "Tell me Jane." She was embarrassed to say the things that she was thinking, and didn't know how John would respond, so she again, kept them to herself. "It's nothing John." John wrapped his hands around hers and pulled them up to his lips, never breaking their eye contact. He knew just how to push her buttons. "You aren't calling me Tarzan. I thought you were going to call me Tarzan." He didn't care if she called him Tarzan or John, as long as she spoke to him; he just wanted to know what was on her mind. Getting her to talk about her feelings was difficult, she was either unhappy or angry when she talked about things, it was rare that she shared her feelings when she was happy, or even content. He waited a few moments, kissed her hands and let them go. "I have to go now. Do you want me to come back today?" Jane was upset that he even had to ask that. What kind of signals was she sending him? "Of course I want you to come back John, Tarzan, Wild Man!" She pleaded. John smiled his crooked smile and turned toward the window. Just then Jane noticed, "You are wearing the moccasins!" He turned to her and smiled, "I don't like them climbing, but they are good for walking, keep my feet warmer." He said good bye to her and disappeared up to the roof of her building. Jane stared out of the opened window wondering what in the hell was wrong with her that turned her into a ball of mush every time that man was near. She was worse than a teenager with a crush! Richard was sipping a coffee at his desk when John arrived, through the front door, announced by the secretary. Richard almost fell off of his chair when John came in, wearing shoes no less. There was hope for this young man, there was hope for Greystoke. "John, welcome." Richard held his hand out to john, but John did not take it. Richard took it to mean that he didn't understand the etiquette behind the handshake, so he took it upon himself to educate his nephew. "When two friends or relatives greet each other, they usually shake hands or embrace. John extended his hand for a quick shake. He did NOT want Richard embracing him. He could still smell Jane on his clothes and he wanted that scent to stay with him a while. Richard showed John to a comfortable chair, called his secretary and asked her to hold his calls, then sat down with John. He offered John a cup of coffee, but John still hadn't developed a taste for it, so he politely declined. "This is a wonderful surprise again John, this time coming in through the front doors, wearing shoes. I think you are getting the hang of living in New York in the autumn!" Richard's smile seemed sincere. John could feel no animosity here. What was Richard's agenda if not to get John's money from him? Of course that was it; just what did he plan to do to get it. John couldn't decide if he were going to play along or if he was going to put an end to the charade. Instead, he decided that the direct approach was more his style. "I am rich." He simply stated. "Yes John, I am aware of that fact. We are shareholders in the same company." Richard replied, trying to figure out where John was going with this. "I know that I own a big part of Greystoke." Richard figured that he had been talking to Kathleen. It wasn't uncommon knowledge; anyone could have told him that. "I own more of Greystoke than you do, is that right?" Now Richard knew that Kathleen had a hand in this. Richard chose his words wisely. 'Your father owned a controlling interest in the company John and that would be passed down to you when you turn 25." Had he given him too much information? John was only 24 right now, so Kathleen had been wrong, John was not rich. "And what happens now?" John kept the line of communication going; he needed to know where things stood. Richard was unsure what he was asking and admitted so. John stood up and paced the room, heading to the window to look down on the city. Richard stood as well and joined his nephew at the window. "Right now you are not rich." Simply stated, but true. Richard then reneged that statement and added, "you have money, it's called a trust fund. This money is to make sure that you have the necessities of life, food, clothing, a place to live etc." Now John was lost. "I don't understand, trust fund. Please, explain this to me." Richard slid his hand in his pocket and subconsciously played with the small ornate key that belonged to the beautifully carved wooden box in his desk drawer. "You don't need to worry about anything; you have money to live, like an allowance. If you need something, you will take it from the trust fund." John heard the sound of keys clinking together in Richard's pocket, and he remembered standing in the rain watching his uncle open a very fancy box last night. Something was making him nervous. John would have to find a way to see the document. He changed the subject. "You work too much, you are always here." John stated to his uncle. Richard, relieved by the change in topic responded smiling. 'I'm the CEO of one of the biggest companies in North America, there is little time for anything other than work. John wanted him out of this room for a while, but how could he do this without raising suspicions. "I would like to have brunch. Would you like to come with me for brunch. I will be allowed into the restaurant because I have shoes on." Richard laughed and placed his hand on John's back for the full effect. John had a very difficult time not recoiling from this touch. He half smiled and walked toward the chair again. "So, we will have brunch, you must show me what brunch is." John felt bad using Jane's "brunch" to get to Richard. He thought that he could have a small mean with Richard, in a restaurant that Richard would have to drive to, and John could go his own way when they were done. John would hurry back to this uncles, go into the office, open the drawer, pull out the box, open it, find out what was inside, close it and be gone before Richard got off of the elevator. It was a plan.