"Can I ask you something?"
"I'm not giving you a blow job, Danny."
He looked at her incredulously. "...Noooo... I'm just wondering how old you are."
She snorted, something he thought he'd never see Wilhelmina Slater do. "Please. You think I'm gonna tell you how old I am? I'm not dumb, like you."
"You don't know how old I am."
"But I can find out."
"How?"
She didn't answer. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and dialed a number. Daniel stared at her, confused. "Marc, how old is Daniel? Thank you." She hung up and turned to face him. "Well well well, Mr. Meade. 38. Getting old, are we?"
"Old? Please! I'm younger than you."
"Oh yeah? How much younger? Come on. Guess." She urged him.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you'll get pissy, hit me, and ban sex for weeks."
"If you knew that, why did you bring this up?"
"Because we're getting married in 2 weeks. I should know these things."
"I didn't know how old you were."
"Now you do."
"Your fault."
"Ugh! You're so frustrating!"
She grinned, rolling on top of him. "You love it."
Haha. The end. :)
