Helena's phone rang just as Jay Leno's audience laughed at his punch line. She rolled her eyes, not sure what sort of idiot would dare call her so late. It was after three, and she had been grading papers for the last hour.

And she was cranky.

She checked the caller ID, but didn't recognize the number. The area code didn't belong to the East coast.

"Hello?" she answered, sounding more annoyed than she had intended.

"Helena, it's me." Vic mumbled into the phone.

She muted her television. "Is something wrong? Why are you whispering?"

"I'm using a payphone, and I don't want others listening in on my conversation."

With a less worried tone, Helena asked, "Something wrong with your cell?"

"I'm positive it's been tampered with and would rather not risk activating any –"

Helena interrupted, "How could someone tamper with your cell phone if you were carrying it with you at all times?"

"I'm not quite sure at the moment, but –"

"Spare me your theory. It's late, and I'm tired."

"You're being even more guileless than usual. Is the late Leno rerun not funny?"

"I've seen this one before." She marked a B- at the top of the paper she'd been grading and retracted the point of her red pen. "So, why are you calling?"

"I wanted to hear your voice."

Helena smiled, despite her fatigue. "That's sweet. Everything all right in Hub City?"

"For the most part." Vic sighed. "So, um… what are you wearing?"

"Seriously?" she laughed. "You're so bad at this game."

"I just need practice," he remarked.

"But you're at a payphone, Vic."

"You were the one who suggested it that one time."

"But a payphone is not exactly the right place to –"

"Allow me to worry about that."

Her smile grew, and she glanced down at the horrid, grey sweats she'd put on earlier. "Well, I've got this silk negligee on. It's matching thong is a little transparent, but, then again, so is the negligee."

"What color is it?" Question asks gruffly.

"A dark, transparent red."

"No."

"What would you prefer? I could change."

"You're wearing an oversized t-shirt, a pair of grey sweat pants, and fat socks. Your hair hasn't been washed yet, so you've pulled it back into a messy bun." He paused, before adding, "That's a bit more in character for you."

"You don't have a camera set up in my apartment, do you?" Helena thought a moment before she confessed, "I'm not sure if that disgusts me or turns me on."

He ignored her comment. "It's what you're wearing, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you know me so well." She yawned. "That's what you find sexy? Sloppy chic?"

Vic waited for a reply, but she didn't give him one. "I find your character sexy, and the clothes, no matter how grotesque they may be, are a part of the package."

"Thanks, Vic," she muttered unenthusiastically.

"I'm being honest." It sounded as if he was adjusting the receiver before he asked, "How many more papers do you have to grade?"

"I just finished."

"So, get into bed and pretend I'm removing those disgusting sweats from your body."

She could hear the devious smile in his voice.

"Call me when you get back to your apartment," Helena suggested, "and we could pretend together."

"Sounds like a date."

"I'll be waiting for your call."

"I know."