"A lady named Lindy McGowan,

Her Piper would fly upside-dowan.

While people protest,

It's surely in jest,

For she makes us smile more than we frowan."

Lindy laughed, tilting her head up to Scotty, sitting with her and Kelly in the Jacuzzi. "Why thank you, kind sir!"

"You recitin' poetry to make time with my girl?"

"Unlike some people," Scotty drawled, "I do not need to resort to poetry if I want to impress a woman."

"Yeah, yeah." Kelly smiled lazily, taking a swallow of his drink and draping an arm about Lindy. "Next you'll be telling me, it's just art for art's sake."

"You can share your toys, boys," she said, putting it out there. "I won't mind."

The flash of interest in both men's eyes was carefully hidden, and she concealed her smile as Scotty said loudly, "This man is not a man you can share things with. I made the mistake, the fatal mistake, see, of lending, I lent him a shirt in 1964…"

"You still – tch, ah, you still going on about that shirt, man? You are such a one to hold a grudge, you know, it's…"

She leaned back and let their banter wash over her. If she had to name her one favorite thing about her parents' summer retreat, it was the giant open-air hot tub on the hilltop, allowing guests to luxuriate in the jacuzzi while enjoying the spectacular views of the lakes and sky, surrounded by lush greenery. Kelly and Scotty were the most perfect people she would most perfectly want to have with her, and knowing she was helping Kelly was the most perfect icing on the cake.

Back in Madrid, she'd nagged and nagged at Kelly to accept her invitation to this piece of Paradise, to speed his healing, and when he'd mumbled and grumbled and brushed her off, she had appealed to a Higher Power. Within a couple days of enlisting Scotty, she'd had the fellows packed and out here to enjoy three weeks of blissful relaxation.

By common consent, a lot of their time ended up being spent out here in the jacuzzi. Kelly was quite open about wanting the hot tub, and Scotty was quite adamant about Kelly needing the hot tub, and Lindy's heart hurt at their frankness, and at the reason for it.

Not that there was much time for sadness in their wonderfully relaxing and low-key vacation. In deference to Kelly's injuries, there was no strenuous hiking, no climbing down the hill to the beach, just swimming in the house pool, strolling and cooking, reading and chatting and a little dancing in the evenings, and of course, the hot tub. Kelly still slept a lot, frequently dropping off on the couch because he was, in Scotty's immortal phrase, "too pig-headed stubborn to go nap in a bed and let his body rebuild like normal convalescing folks."

Lindy liked to see Kelly sleeping on the couch, though, looking peaceful; it was probably comforting to him, she thought, to have her and Scotty murmuring in the background, unlike the lonely quiet of the bedroom. She'd had a moment of sheer terror, the first night they'd been there. A few hours after turning in, she'd been awakened by a terrible scream. Bolting up out of bed, vague thoughts of intruders or unknown threats filling her mind, she'd armed herself with a handy candlestick and pelted down the corridor towards the sound, pausing for a second outside the door of the boys' suite before taking her courage in both hands and bursting in.

What had met her eyes, though, wasn't enemy spies or robbers attacking under cover of night, but a shuddering Kelly curled up in Scotty's arms, the latter murmuring comfort to soothe what had obviously been a nightmare. Both men's heads snapped up in shock as the door slammed open. "Excuse me," she began, but realized just how badly she'd blundered as they started to move apart. "Wait!" she blurted and rushed over to them, dropping onto the bed on Kelly's side, effectively halting his retreat and shoving him back into Scotty's arms. She waved the candlestick with a sheepish grin, to focus them on her dippiness rather than their self-consciousness. "I was getting all ready to do battle," she offered,

"Turns out it was just your troublesome guests," Kelly muttered in self-disgust.

"Troublesome?" She reached out for Scotty so that he had no option but to put his arm round Kelly again. "Decent people don't consider it troublesome when a man who made a – a sacrifice for his country feels the pain of an experience that would have killed any normal man!" she huffed.

"See, man? I keep tellin' you that!" Scotty whined. "I keep telling him that, Lindy, but he doesn't listen!"

She'd leaned on the headboard and snuggled closer into Kelly's back, coaxing Scotty's arm back into its original position, wrapped tightly around his partner, then adding her arm to it, wrapping her hand around Kelly's front. Her eyes met Scotty's and she smiled at him. "He will," she said. "He will, just give him time."

"…talking about me like I'm not here," Kelly had grumped, but the knife-edge of pain was gone from his tone, drowsiness returning. Scotty had relaxed into the pillows, and so, after a moment, had Kelly, a hand tentatively reaching out to rest on Scotty's elbow. After a moment's fumbling, Lindy had managed to slip an arm under Kelly's head to reach across and touch Scotty's cheek.

They'd fallen asleep at some point, and Lindy had awoken in the grey light of dawn to find the three of them still wrapped in each other's arms, as though they'd been… She blushed. Now there was a thought.

And to her chagrin, she couldn't get the thought out of her head.

It wasn't that she was some blushing virgin from Utah, but even a swinger had her limits. Still, there was no denying that she was becoming more and more taken with Scotty, with him and Kelly together. The warmth and nurturing in Scotty as he creamed and wrapped Kelly's sore joints, the way Kelly visibly drew comfort and strength from his ministrations, the words they wove in an intricate, shimmering web, the tenderness in Scotty's face and hands as he tended to Kelly, were the most attractive thing she had ever seen. She and Kelly were the most fun and friendly of lovers, and she'd always adored Scotty, but now… now, there was something about the way Scotty and Kelly were, together, that made the idea more than attractive – perfectly natural, in fact, except for the moment when she realized how unnatural it would seem to anyone else. The two of them were definitely a whole that was more than the sum of its parts, and she would have felt that she wanted to take them to her bed together even if it wasn't for the other thing…

She broached the subject of the other thing the very next day. She and Scotty had fallen into a routine of preparing dinner while Kelly slept (of which Kelly always complained that they hadn't woken him to help, which she and Scotty always ignored). As she bent over the tomato sauce, she said gently to Scotty, who was stirring the boiling pasta, "You know," and Heaven knew she was sincere, "you are the sweetest man I have ever met."

"Of course I am, honey. Hundred percent, refined sug—"

She giggled. "I mean it. You're spending this entire vacation taking care of Kelly—" he looked uncomfortable and she hurried on before he could change the subject—"you're giving everything you have to make sure he's healthy again. I meant it when I said you were welcome to invite a girl along, but you didn't because you wanted to be free to take care of whatever he needed. And the kicker is that you want it that way! It's no sacrifice to you. It's what makes you happy."

"What else would I be doing," he muttered, bent so low over the pasta pot it looked like he was getting a steam facial. She had started to smile, but then he turned, his face so strained she thought the skin would break over the bones. "Lindy," he said, with need in his voice, and she came over to him, laid her hands on his chest.

"Talk to me, Scotty," she said softly. He was trembling, and she moved closer, slipping her arms about his waist. She'd known he'd have to snap eventually, had seen it in the rigid stance and terse, clipped delivery when he'd told her about what had happened, back in Spain, seen it in the slightly off-center nature of his attitude since then. He still hadn't regained his equilibrium, and it was at moments like these, when he wasn't being the caretaker, that it stood out.

"Do you know," he whispered, "that rack victims usually never recovered normal use of their limbs?" Pressed up against him, she could hear the pounding of his heart. "I read up. It said, in the Middle Ages, that people who had their joints… dislocated on it, took… months to recover, if, if they ever did. It…" His voice shook. "…crippled most victims permanently."

Lindy held him tighter, cutting across the pained murmur. "But he's going to be all right, isn't he?"

"I… yeah. The docs… yeah. Yeah," he said, and Lindy had the strong impression he'd make a deal with the devil to have it so. The body in her arms inhaled, exhaled. She was silent, her hands rubbing his back gently. After a moment, he muttered, "You've seen his back. You saw…"

"The scars," she finished sadly. That first night they'd arrived, she and Kelly had repaired to her bedroom, and while Kelly had started out by kissing her urgently, he'd not taken off his shirt. Thinking he needed encouragement, she'd helped him by undoing the buttons and easing it off his shoulders—only on their way down his back, her hands had encountered lumpy ridges. He'd stiffened, and she'd frozen, not knowing what to do. With a wry, wounded remark about damaged goods, he'd turned, and she'd seen the shiny purple lines that marred the white back, crisscrossing and intersecting in a network that looked painful, though she knew they were at least six weeks old. And no matter how many times she'd kissed him and told him it didn't matter, she knew he hadn't believed her.

Scotty's hands came up to clutch at her shoulders. "They whipped him bloody. They cut up his back like a cheese slicer and he never talked—The things he—there's this scar hidden under his hair—they tried to garrote him…" Scotty's voice was bitter. "He went to hell and back while I was takin' a nap."

Lindy's head snapped up. "Who told you that?" she rapped out.

"Huh?"

"Who told you that? Who made you feel like you failed him?" The flinch under her hands told her that her words had hit home. She made her tone firm. "Tell me, Scotty."

"The…Chief of Psychiatry."

"Oh," Lindy snorted, "the man who sent Kelly back there in violation of his Hippocratic oath? Who plotted to ruin Kelly? You're forgetting, I was there. I saw it." Scotty took a breath to speak. "He wanted to use you, you know that, and he made you feel guilty to do it!"

She could see the acquiescence in the guarded expression, and pressed her point. "Were you sleeping, Scotty? Really?"

His tension eased slightly, his natural resilience coming to the fore. "Aw, Lindy…"

"Kelly told me they knocked you out. Gave you a concussion."

"All right, all right."

"He told me you were in the hospital too because you had an allergic reaction to the knockout drug."

The voice is suddenly a little boy's. "I don't remember it. Nothin' til I woke up in the hospital."

"But—Oh, this is ridiculous. Scotty, if you'd been conscious, is there anything you wouldn't have done to stop that happening to Kelly?"

"Aw, c'mon, McGowan…"

"No joking, Scotty. I know you two. Wouldn't you have taken the whipping for him, if you could?"

"Ah…"

"If it would have meant he'd be spared, you'd have taken his place on the rack, wouldn't you?"

"He's a tennis player, he's gotta stay fit."

"That sounds like a yes to me."

The tense body slumped in her arms. "All right, all right. You're right. I just wish he… I wish I had done something, that's all."

"You were knocked unconscious. You couldn't do anything." She pulled him closer. "But helplessness hurts." She felt the nod. "In a way, it's easier to blame yourself – it hurts less – than –" she knew she only had one shot at saying this right, "than to accept the – the terrible unfairness that your best efforts couldn't save him this time."

A huge sigh racked the strong frame, and Scotty's body relaxed, one hand coming up to ruffle her hair. "You get a degree in psychiatry along with that pilot's license?" the deep baritone smiled. "That makes twice we owe ya."

"You don't owe me—"

"Sure we do. You're the only one who stood by us in this mess."

"Oh, Scotty, surely—"

"The brass didn't. The doctors didn't, or couldn't. Only you."

"Maybe," she nodded against him, "but…"

"They sent him back there, Lindy!" Scotty's tone had a different edge now, betrayal and bitterness rather than guilt. "They made him go through it twice! Once in one lifetime's enough, it's too much! But no, they knew Kelly was gonna be out there, they knew he'd be captured, they sent him back to relive his worst nightmare…" He took a breath in outrage. "They sold him down the river! And they nearly did cripple him, nearly made him crack up worse; if he wasn't stronger than a hundred other guys put together, he'd never have survived." He took a sharp breath. "And I nearly wasn't in time to stop it… If it wasn't for you, for your airplane…" She felt the walking-on-one's-grave chill run through him, and pulled him tight. She waited for the rest of his sentence, but it didn't come. He placed his arms around her, but patted her shoulder as though she were the one needing comfort. "We owe you…"

"You don't owe me anything," she said firmly, staying close. "But I am going to ask something of you, Scotty. For us. I need you to tell me something."

"Sure, honey, anything, you know that."

"This isn't easy," she said, "but I want to know if there's any physical reason that Kelly can't…" She searched for words. "uh, perform – in, uh, in bed."

The body in her arms stilled, and she felt the import of her words hit Scotty. She nodded to confirm his unspoken question. "He… he hasn't managed to," she began, "we haven't… We did try, but… Of course I don't mind, I love Kelly, I don't want anything from him, but I need to know if it's physical, if," she couldn't help her voice choking up, "if those monsters… did something to him that made him… that…"

Scotty guided her to a chair, sitting her down, kneeling before her and coming almost eye-to-eye with her as he knelt. "It's not physical," he said, a little embarrassed, his eyes dropping.

"Whew!" she smiled, slumping back in the chair. She was still smiling at Scotty when she said, "So it's just performance anxiety from…" The lump of lead settled inside her again, "from what they did to him?"

Scotty nodded.

She supposed she should feel bad about exploiting the situation for her own selfish ends, but instead only felt the rightness of it. "I've got an idea." Lindy looked at the downcast face, at this man who would do anything for Kelly, and smiled gently. "Scotty, I want you to be honest with me," she whispered. "Have you two ever… shared a girl before?"

Scotty grinned. "Well, not deliberately—" She saw it when the intent in her body language, in her expression, hit him, and his head snapped up. "Holy Smokes, you're serious!"

"I certainly am," she said, still smiling, reassuring him.

"Well…" The expression on his face made her giggle. It was a shame black people didn't blush, for she was sure she'd have been seeing all the colors of the rainbow. "W—uh…" She laughed outright at seeing this normally unflappable agent so flustered. "Well, uh, we, you know, we… we never have before. But... It's not a rule that's set in stone or anything, or if it is, sandstone, maybe. I guess, under the proper circumstances, I guess, I imagine I don't think either of us would object, on principle…" He appeared to realize he was babbling and took a deep breath. "Is this… some kind of proposition?"

"'Proper circumstances'?" Lindy grinned outright now. "Like a deserted island, nobody here but the three of us…" She declined to remind him of that moment she'd hugged him and Kelly both, back at Don Jose's ranch. Either he remembered it or he didn't.

"No bullfighters around to run interference…"

She tried not to smile like the cat that ate the canary, but it wasn't easy, and she probably failed spectacularly. Not that it mattered. "Can I plot Kelly's downfall with you, then?"

He looked up into her eyes, and it was astonishing what she saw in there: embarrassment and protectiveness and resolve and amusement, and mischief and… yes, and excitement, too. "Just call me Goldfinger," he quipped.

"Ooh, Scotty, really!"


The cool breeze of the evening ruffled Lindy's hair pleasantly as they sat on the terrace after an early dinner. There was still a glow in the sky, enough to render the candles that flickered in the frosted-glass holder unnecessary for practical lighting. The boys were laughing together about something Lindy couldn't fathom and knew better than to try.

Casually, she rose and went to the terrace railing, leaning over it, sticking her bottom out more than strictly necessary; her skirt fluttered in the wind. She'd had to root around in her stuff for a while to find a dress (scratchy synthetic fabric, yuck. Darn fashion, anyway. Next time she was in New York, she'd get something in silk) and heels (hello, bunions); she hated the things, preferring pants and flats. Tonight was an exception, though, and with luck she wouldn't be wearing them for long.

Her confidence in Kelly's spy skills had risen at the Look he'd given her at dinner, but, too wrapped up in what he probably saw as his own failure – oh, men – he hadn't commented, just looked. He was probably wondering what she had planned. Oh, Kelly, darling, you have no idea.

Scotty rose, casually, to lean against the railing next to her. The banter paused as he deliberately reached out and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

As gestures went, it wasn't blatantly sexual, but the air around them tensed. She turned towards him, and he ran his fingertips along her jawline, slowly, once, twice.

The rustling of the pines seemed to stop as Scotty turned towards her and lightly touched his lips to hers. His kiss was electric; a kiss was a kiss, but she'd never kissed a black man before, and she'd never kissed beautiful, sweet Scotty before, and the play of tongues and lips was so sensual it made her whimper a little. Scotty grunted, and that sound was exciting, and she laid a hand on his chest, and her head turned a fraction—and she saw Kelly watching them.

The disappointment in Kelly's eyes was almost enough to make her put a stop to it then and there. The man had the original speaking countenance; every nuance of his emotions was reflected in his face. He set his jaw and tried to hide his hurt feelings as he absorbed the shock of her perceived rejection. She saw his sad, resigned belief that she'd turned to Scotty because he, Kelly, couldn't perform, saw the resignation and the acceptance of himself as a failure in one more area…

But then she saw the disappointment settle into a slightly fixed stare, saw him shift position in a certain way, lifting his heels and pulling up his jeans around his knees to allow the fabric a little freer play between his legs, and that was enough to convince her it was for the greater good. Besides, she thought, trying to get herself to relax and enjoy it, Scotty was with her in this, and nothing he would okay would hurt Kelly in the long run.

Scotty slipped his arm halfway around her, stroking her back as they kissed. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensations for a little longer, his fingers just brushing feather-light and inflaming her nerves, the feeling of being watched sending pulses of electricity through her—and then his big hand slid downwards and cupped her bottom, stroking her cheeks and just teasing with his fingertips. She let out a completely involuntary "Oh!" and wiggled as she moaned, reaching an arm around him and fisting her hands in what she could clutch of his close-cropped hair. Scotty grunted – oh, she did love a man who was vocal… speaking of which…

She couldn't help a little flare of amusement. Kelly, flushed and shifting around and pretending not to notice, had obviously come to some kind of decision. He stood up with purpose as though he was going to go stalking off, but stopped in mid-rise with a little grimace, looking uncomfortable and adjusting those tight pants again. He turned to go, but paused in mid-stride, glancing back as thought he couldn't help it. And that speaking countenance again, it was saying how about that! If only she'd waited a little longer, because lookie, lookie, I can so get it up…

Scotty turned her so that her back was to Kelly, but she was satisfied. If that was all that transpired today, it was enough.

"You know," came Kelly's voice from behind her, "this isn't your style, Jack. I know you've got more class than that, man." His tone was genuinely puzzled. "I mean, I know you and Lindy got a lot of respect for each other, I thought you thought more of her than to…" His words trailed off in a little 'oh!' of surprise. She could hear the penny drop all the way across the terrace.

Scotty stopped nibbling on her ear for a second. "Than to what?" he said, voice amused.

"…What's going on here?" Kelly wasn't shocked, wasn't speechless, and it took her a few seconds to rearrange her head around the openness these guys had with one another. "X-rated peepshow?"

"Nothing peep about it, Duke," Scotty drawled from beside her. "Full-size and in living color."

"Is this to help the Kelly Robinson Charity?" Kelly's voice was hard, and Lindy shivered, wondering if they'd done the wrong thing. "She tell you, huh?"

"You got a funny way of defining charity, Hoby," Scotty said calmly. "I don't think this is what the Salvation Army had in mind. You don't have to join in, and it's a big island if you wanna, you know, give us some privacy instead of hanging around like a Peeping Tom." Lindy let Scotty guide her to the couch beneath a potted ficus plant, seating her on his lap. "Go on, make like a paint job and flake off."

"Hah," Kelly snorted, turning almost involuntarily to watch. "Not on your life." The voice was unsteady, the resentment fading. Lindy straddled Scotty; he pulled her in close with one hand, using the other to push up her skirt, fingers sliding into the cleft between her cheeks, and she heard Kelly's indrawn breath at seeing she wore nothing underneath. The humor was back in his voice as he said, "Now this is what I call a Girl Scout."

Lindy moaned a little; she could feel the calluses on Scotty's hand raising goosebumps on her soft, sensitive flesh, and she imagined how it would look to Kelly, brown fingers kneading pale pink skin… "You don't know the half of it," she grinned shakily, pulling one arm away from Scotty's neck, reaching over to a side table. "I've got…" With a flourish, she pulled open the little, carved-wood drawer. So much of a flourish, in fact, that it flew completely out, landing on the floor and scattering everything everywhere. Damn little carved-wood drawers, anyway. Kelly obligingly knelt to help her pick up, and she sort of leaned over Scotty's lap, and Scotty used the position shamelessly to stroke her ass a bit more, his fingers straying down between her legs, lightly stroking her labia and how was she supposed to concentrate and finally she found what she had been looking for, and triumphantly held the packet of condoms aloft. "Not the lousy American kind, either, I picked these up in Amsterdam."

Scotty made a small sound of surprise. "Amsterdam. She picked them up in Amsterdam, she says."

Kelly's chuckle was music to her ears. "Well, that's Amster-damn good, isn't it?" He jiggled the little drawer, pushing it back into place, but instead of moving away, he stayed, kneeling there beside them, desire, apprehension, indecision, all on his face, and the indefinable emotion, on that speaking countenance, of being unworthy. Scotty's fingers stroked her intimately, steadily, and she moaned aloud, closing her eyes, but then opened them again, meeting Kelly's tentative gaze as he asked, "So, can anyone partake of these Amsterdam-things, or are there requirements to join?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but Scotty muttered, "We're all out of engraved invitations, Mr. Goodwill Ambassador. Will you take a telegram?"

Lindy reached out, slipping a hand into Kelly's hair, not quite pulling him in, letting him set the pace. Kelly leaned over to kiss her, and there was something about being in Scotty's arms, being touched by his hands, while holding Kelly, kissing him… She arched her back, and Kelly's hands obligingly came up to cup her breasts, and she whimpered into his mouth. He broke the kiss, lightly licking her neck, her ear, and Scotty's mouth replaced Kelly's on her lips, Scotty's hands squeezing her cheeks and teasing her vulva, and Kelly's thumbs just flicking across her nipples through the rough fabric of the dress— she made incoherent sounds at the bolts of arousal shocking through her, and through the haze she heard Scotty saying, "Thought you were the anti-charity guy. A regular Scrooge. How's about you go crash a nice bake sale or somethin' and leave me and my girl some, y'know, some privacy?"

"Not on your life, Ebenezer," Kelly laughed, and dived in.

Lindy was never sure how they made it to the bedroom. One thing she knew was that her feet never touched the ground, but whether it was slung over Scotty's shoulder—"Unhand the fair maiden, varlet! I shall unleash the wrath of the mighty Tabasco of Tortellini upon thee!"—or waltzing along with Kelly—"You got no musical taste, man, Strauss is spinning in his grave, I swear" –they were there, and then she was going down on Kelly, sliding her lips down him, fingers tickling the sensitive skin of his sac, hearing him gasp with pleasure, watching, with a kind of loving joy, the way he gripped Scotty's arm as he did, grounding himself, anchoring himself, and seeing Scotty grip his arm right back, and the sheer tenderness of it was almost more of a rush than the sex. And then Scotty was doing to her what she did to Kelly, and—ohdamnhe'sgoodhe'sveryverygood!—and she was twisting to palm his erection through his pants, he was the only one of them still dressed, bless him…

Kelly seemed to notice, too. "You going to a church picnic, Fred C?"

"Do I look…" Scotty made a slurping sound that made Lindy giggle, "like I'm going to a church picnic?"

"Not the kind your mom would approve of, anyway."

Scotty raised his head from between her legs, replacing his mouth with his hand, pushing harder against the throbbing mound in a way that made her hotter than his tongue had. "Don't you have any etiquette at all, man?" he whined. "Don't you know that in bed is the one place you never, ever mention your mother?"

"She's not my mother, Jack."

"Oh, okay! Then you won't mind if I tell her you said that, in my next letter."

"You wouldn't!"

"Kelly! Scotty!" Lindy moaned, grinding herself against Scotty's hand. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're having sex here!"

"Ah, right," Scotty slapped a hand to his forehead. "Must be getting old. I was just thinking, what am I forgetting…."

"You asked for it, wiseguy," Kelly said, shoving Scotty gently over onto his back. "C'mon, Watson, be a gentleman and show the lady your weaknesses. Try this, Lindy, it's fun." She mirrored his actions as he clambered up Scotty and drew his tongue across the side of one dark nipple, eliciting a shaky breath. "Shuts him right up."

She raised an eyebrow, declined to ask him how he had come by that information, and settled her head onto Scotty's arm, tonguing the flat, darker brown pad delicately. The man under her stiffened and arched up off the bed. "Ooh, this is fun." She shoved a stray chest hair out of the way and rasped her tongue across again, this time fisting her hand in the sparse curls and pulling gently.

Scotty writhed, and her eyes met Kelly's, their heads pillowed on Scotty's arms as each of them tongued a nipple. Lindy's hand descended and slipped into Scotty's pants as Kelly obligingly undid the obstructions of belt and fly. There was no greater rush than this, this powerful man who could crush her with his strength if he chose, wriggling helplessly beneath her, the feeling of pinning him to the mattress, making him writhe and arch with pleasure, stifling little whimpers in his throat. His arm snaked around her, casting about for something to hold onto, ending up fisted in her hair, and she smiled as she saw dark fingers fisted in Kelly's on the other side too. She tongued again and again, enjoying the reactions – when she touched the tip of the nipple, not so much, but when she flicked her tongue sharply along the side, there were gasps, and the body beneath her arm bucked and shuddered most gratifyingly.

"I want some of that," she said, climbing up to lie on her back between them, squirming her way in, grasping an erect cock in each hand. And then she gasped, for she had no idea what she had let herself in for. The way they tackled her. Together. Their hands were like those of one man, but different; touching in sync, in harmony, now gripping and making her moan, now stroking and making her sigh. Their lips and tongues flicked and sucked and teased, like one man with a hundred hands, and she yelled aloud, and heard their laughter. "Octo…pussy," she couldn't help saying, and they laughed louder.

"Well, you're screwing… The Living Daylights… out of us," panted Kelly.

"I love a man who's literate in bed," Scotty muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Does Kelly have the same… weaknesses?" she asked, gesturing at Scotty's chest.

"Well, I don't know," he responded. "Do you have the same weaknesses, Jack?"

"I'm not really sure," Kelly said, mock-serious.

"Deserving of further study, then."

"Ah, man, what I do for science." Kelly leaned back, spreading his arms, and then Scotty and Lindy were each leaning on an elbow, tonguing Kelly's nipples and flicking them with their fingers, and Kelly really was much more fun to listen to than Scotty; he whimpered, he moaned, he gasped, he bucked into her hand that had slid between his legs. She wasn't pumping him, just rubbing and pressing her palm tantalizingly against his shaft, all hard heat, and he writhed against her, trying for purchase, and his urgency, his eagerness, were intoxicating, like some damn drug. And then she caught sight of Kelly stroking Scotty's erection with one hand and Scotty gripping Kelly's arm with the other, and the sweetness of that filled her with a rush that made her take her lips off his nipple and kiss him hard and deeply.

And then she wanted more of this delightful, wonderful man, and so she rose, invitingly, turning to face him, and lay back opposite him on the bed, hand outstretched to Kelly, the toes of her left foot lightly teasing Scotty's balls. "Come on, sweetheart," she smiled.

There was desire in Kelly's face, yes, of course there was, but there was something about the awkward way he rose up on his elbows, scooting sideways self-consciously, trying to turn and face her—

—and she realized that with all the crazy things they'd done to one another, she hadn't seen his back once.

"Kelly, I know what you're doing, and I don't accept it," she said firmly. "Your back's nothing to be ashamed of."

He froze, and she could see him understand, and see him losing his erection, too, but this was too important. He couldn't claim impotence after tonight, anyway. She sat up, nervous but determined. "I mean it."

"Hey, man—" Scotty began.

Kelly rounded on him. "Just shut up, okay?"

"Don't you dare speak to Scotty like that," she admonished, wondering where she was getting this. "Are you ashamed of your heroism? Ashamed of your sacrifice?"

"Some sacrifice," he said, voice low. "Chump who messed himself up protecting a phony secret."

"Hey, man, didn't you ever watch those Westerns on TV?" Scotty said mildly. "Wounded Hero in a sling? I always wanted to be the wounded hero. Wanted me one of them slings, y'see, as proof of my heroism."

"Well," snapped Kelly, "you've had 'em."

"Kelly." Lindy scooted over so that she sat sideways to him, her chest against his shoulder, one leg across his lap, one leg behind him. "Those marks make you even more beautiful to me. They show…" she leaned around, and kissed one shiny red welt, "that you didn't give up." She kissed another of his scars. "They show that you're strong." She shifted further behind him, pressing kisses all over his back. "They show that you survived."

"See, Wounded Hero always gets the chicks," Scotty muttered, reaching out to pat Kelly on the shoulder. "You better make the most of it while it lasts, man, those scars are gonna fade before too much longer and you'll be out one Wounded Hero cachet, and have to fall back on your doubtful skills with the fairer sex."

Kelly looked down at the bed, his expression a peculiar mix of embarrassment and not daring to believe.

"Look the other way, Scotty," Lindy said. "Let me whisper sweet nothings in his ear."

Scotty flopped back on the bed, hands folded behind his head. "Give it your best shot, McGowan; better men than you have tried and failed."

With a smile for Scotty, Lindy leaned in closer, placing her arms around Kelly's shoulders. "I know what happened with the formula," she said. "I know, to you, it feels like betrayal. Like your sacrifice was for nothing. But think of it this way…"

She brought her lips close enough to touch his ear, and whispered. "When you two were escorting the scientist… If they hadn't chosen you for the sacrifice, who else was there to be chosen? Whom else would they have…tortured?"

Kelly's eyes snapped to Scotty, suddenly wide with shocked realization.

She knew she was using emotional blackmail, but all was fair… "Now, do you still feel your sacrifice was worthless?"

"I can't hear the sweet nothings," Scotty complained. "I'm hearin' sweet nothing!"

Lindy nuzzled Kelly's cheek – he was barely breathing – and whispered, "Is it that hard for you to bear the scars so he won't have to?"

Kelly sat in utter stillness for a long moment, then swept her into his arms and kissed her, hard and deeply, holding her tight. He kissed her long enough for his renewed heat to pulse through her, and when he pulled away, his face was suffused with relief, and even a kind of peaceful joy. "This girl is somethin', man," he said to Scotty, his voice warm.

"Yeah, I can see that," Scotty said wryly, motioning to Kelly's miraculously returned erection. That was the nice thing about men, Lindy thought as she leaned over aggressively to kiss Scotty deeply, shoving her tongue into his mouth, they could be counted on to concentrate on sex. "You wanna tell me your secret, ma'am?" he asked without resentment as she sucked on his earlobe. "You did in two seconds what I've been trying to do in two months!"

Lindy latched, amused, onto the double entendre. "You've been trying to do what in two months?"

"Get his head on straight," said Scotty unselfconsciously, and then clamped his mouth shut as he realized what he'd said. "I meant… his head… his brain, not…ohh." He buried his face in his hands, Kelly's laugh music to her ears as she giggled, and Scotty smiled embarrassedly behind his hand. "Hoo, boy."

"Nothing to it," she giggled, a hand on each man's erection. "You have to know your opponent's weaknesses." Oh, right—now she remembered what she'd come for—"Kelly?" With a gentle hand on his chest, she pushed Kelly back onto the mattress and clambered astride him.

"Just a second, Miss Girl Scout…" Kelly held out his hand to Scotty. "Mr. Troop Leader, would you kindly…" Kelly gasped, for instead of placing the condom in his hand, Scotty was reaching out and slipping it onto Kelly himself.

"Oh gosh…" Lindy choked. She hoped her eyes weren't popping out of their sockets like a cartoon character's at the sight of the long, dark fingers smoothing the condom over the pinkened, erect flesh. She slipped a hand between her legs, stroking herself as she watched. "You sure know how to put on a show," she managed to say.

"Much obliged, I'm… sure," Kelly squeaked as Scotty's hands left him, and then let out the most delicious moan as Lindy took hold of him, guided him into her and slid down, burying him to the hilt, and pumped, the feel of him in her augmented by Kelly's hands on her breasts and Scotty's on her buttocks, and one of her hands was working her clit and the other pumping Scotty's cock (when had he put a condom on himself?), and she squeezed Kelly and made him cry out, and she decided that she liked a man this uninhibited and squeezed him again, and then he shook his head. "Gonna… finish too soon, honey," he panted, and she understood, and stilled. But she was still pulsing, and so she slid completely off him. "Just… give me a minute," he smiled.

Sliding past Scotty, she scooted to the end of the bed, deciding that there was only one more thing that could make this evening perfect. Her eyes met Kelly's. "I want to see you two kiss," she said, daringly.

Kelly grinned at Scotty, and it took her a second to realize that her request wasn't as daring as she'd thought it was. "You heard the lady, Woody."

There was a powerful throb between her legs as she watched them latch onto each other's mouths, tonguing and smiling, Kelly pulling Scotty's full lower lip between his teeth and letting out a little whimper. Scotty kissed him thoroughly, then his hands tightened—and before her eyes, Lindy saw a more chaste emotion take over. His mouth moved to Kelly's cheek, kissing him as Europeans might kiss a son or a brother, with an urgency that had nothing to do with arousal, kissing his cheekbones, his eyes, his brow, with ardent affection. Kelly actually blushed, smiling shyly. "I know, man. Me too."

"Almost…" Scotty's voice was rough, "…almost lost..."

"Yeah." Kelly was already plastered up against his partner, but he slid in closer anyway, rubbing his shoulders, wrapping his arms around his back, touching his forehead to Scotty's, rubbing his nose and then his cheek against his friend's, their serious expressions gradually melting into smiles. "We're okay now, though, right, Stanley?"

"Yeah." For the first time since they'd come here, she could see that Scotty was really home. "Yeah. Life's good, Ollie."

"Mmhm." Kelly's regard was sly, sidelong. "Know the only thing that could make this better?"

"A woman?"

Kelly grinned. "You could not be more correct, Fred C. And would you think of it, there's a woman right there at the end of the bed, not two feet away."

Scotty's cheek shifted against Kelly's but did not move away. "Your observational powers are amazing, Holmes, I mean there's just no hope for the criminal element in society, the way you…"

"Think we could persuade her to come over here?"

"Y'know, I… ooh." Lindy had clambered over, pushed Scotty slightly flatter and sheathed him in her, for no other reason than he was closest, meeting Kelly's eyes as she sat on top.

Scotty shifted inside her, and he was hot and smooth and wonderful, and she didn't think he'd mind her moaning, and he didn't, and he pulled her down so he could lick her nipples, and he said, "Oh, Dobbsie, you've gotta try this," and Kelly moved over, and all things considered, having one man's mouth on each of her breasts was one of the more fun things in life, especially with the running commentary. "They should have had this flavor… at Good Humor, man."

"I don't think I'd have graduated high school…mm.. if they had."

"Might not keep well…on ice, too. Mmh."

Amused, she noted that while one of Scotty's hands was on her hip, the other was still around Kelly, bracing his elbow as he leaned into her, and it came back to her that this man was responsible for Kelly's safety. The thought brought her up short a little, and she stilled and sat up, Scotty still inside her. This was for all of them, but mostly, tonight, for Kelly. It had to be.

Smiling, she gestured obscenely. "You a back door man, Kelly?"

The flash of excitement in his eyes told her she was on the right track. But ever the gentleman, he demurred. "I don't want to hurt you, honey…"

"You'll hurt my feelings if you say no."

"Man, you always embarrassing me like that? You gotta disappoint a lady?"

"I know when I'm outnumbered," Kelly smiled a little nervously, climbing off the bed.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Lindy asked.

"To get some…" The way he blushed was cute!

Over her shoulder she called, "It's on the dressing-table, honey." She looked down at Scotty, noticing he'd stopped moving – he was looking at Kelly, who'd turned his scarred back to them without the least embarrassment.

"Miracle Worker McGowan," Scotty murmured, and she bent to kiss him, raising her ass provocatively, as Kelly returned.

Kelly opened the jar, lubricated his fingers and reached out to her. She felt no apprehension; she'd stretched herself a bit in preparation for this mad escapade. She bent low to Scotty and dropped her voice to a stage whisper. "Help him out, sweetheart." Hmm, so black men could blush!

He rolled his eyes, mouth hanging open with an ironic half-smile, then splayed his hands against her buttocks and used his fingers to pull them apart, leaving her anus cool and bare and exposed. That was arousing in itself, but then she could feel the other man's eyes watching, She was reminded why Kelly was so popular with the ladies as the touch of his fingers set her on fire, a lubricated thumb pressing against her anus as his fingers slipped down to tease where she and Scotty were joined, making her whimper and Scotty squirm, pulsing inside her. "Hey, no fair, man!"

"Learn from the master," Kelly said smugly, and then oh my oh my his hardness was pressing between her cheeks, and Scotty's hands were there and then Kelly guided himself into her, too, and she whimpered with the fullness and turned to kiss him, and then he bent over her and reached out to support himself on the bed…

"Uh-uh. Elbows, knees."

Kelly's voice was breathless. "Now really, is this the time?"

Whu? Her brain was blank with arousal, but she forced herself to think—

-and when she did, the tenderness that overwhelmed her almost blanked out the physical heat. In the middle of—this, Scotty was still putting Kelly's well-being first; ever the trainer, he was mindful of the strain on Kelly's savaged joints…

And she could never fall short of that.

She was still wondering what to do when the two agents reached out across her and gripped one another's arms with astonishing power, effectively placing her within a cradle. "Hold on, honey," Kelly said, and the three of them rolled sideways so that they were in the same position, only lying on the bed on their sides. "Does that satisfy you, slave driver?" he said across her to Scotty.

"Hey, you're the one who'd be complaining when the season starts."

"Yeah, yeah, now what were we saying before you so rudely interrupted.. ooh…" She found that one way to shut them up was to squeeze her internal muscles around them, which she did, shamelessly, as they started pumping, and she flung her head back over Kelly's shoulder and yelled.

Kelly was more of a moaner than Scotty, but they both moaned in the end. Kelly moaned the loudest, though, and here was a man who certainly didn't have any erection problems, her anus was delightfully stretched, not to mention her vagina—so slick now it was ridiculous, really—and she wished she could have held Kelly, but Scotty reached behind her and gathered Kelly in, and Kelly had one arm around her and one braced against Scotty as though storm-tossed in a gale, and she was sandwiched in a vortex of something so strong it took her breath away, and then both their hands came down to her clitoris as though they had had the same thought at the same time…

…and it was strange, because she could feel their eyes meeting, feel the way their hands slid into one another's, fitted efficiently into place, and became one hand, pleasuring her like one man but so much more effectively that she lasted for all of a few seconds before proceeding to break decibel records. They were coming too, or did, or had, tenses were fuzzy at the moment.

Eventually, they lay in a sated heap on the mattress. Kelly was the first to stir. "Hey, that was cool," he said mock-perkily. "What are we gonna do for an encore?"

A loud groan sounded from his partner, somewhere tangled in Lindy's legs. "Is this the man who was convalescing? The guy who nearly died? There's no justice in the world, man, no justice."

Lindy giggled. "What?" asked Kelly.

"Oh, nothing," she said. "Just, I get sex, and a comedy act as well." She squirmed delightedly between them. "And no cover charge."

"Regular Laurel and Hardy," muttered Scotty.

"Yeah, next time we'll get little top-hats and bow-ties for our…" Kelly made a gesture that left her in no doubt as to what he was referring to.

"How're you gonna put 'em on, Yves Saint Laurent?"

"Ouch."

"See, shoulda thought it through." Scotty struggled to his elbows. "You need to hit the hot tub, you… convalescent."

"Did I seem like a convalescent to you, honey?"

"Well," Lindy looked from one to the other, mischief in her eyes, "maybe, Scotty, if you rested a little bit in the hot tub, you could measure up..."

"Traitor, McGowan!"

Kelly's whoop of triumph was smothered by Scotty's pillow.


So here they were the next day in the hot tub, after a satisfying dinner. None of them had bothered with the swimsuits this go-around; too much of a hassle to hang them out and dry them. Lindy leaned back, listening to the rustling of the pines in the evening breeze. More than anything, she realized – what was that word they used? – the wonderfulness of these golden moments stolen from their everyday life. Sex, and love, and tenderness, and passion, all wrapped up into a pair of wonderful men who were more fun than a girl should have.

She sighed, and Kelly gave her a sidelong glance, and Scotty smiled that lazy smile of his, and Lindy laughed.

Life was good.