In Which Anders Plays a Crap Game

"What the frak was that!?" Kara jumped up from her seat, practically pulling Zak's arm out of its socket in her excitement. "What are you, blind?"

"It wasn't that bad, Kara, seriously." He half-heartedly tugged his hand away from hers.

"Zak, there was a perfect opening, and not only did Anders not go there, he went in the other direction and dropped the ball in the process. Yes, it was that bad." She sat back down and smacked his mouth affectionately with hers. "I'd wonder if I should keep you, but you are pretty decent in the sack, so you're safe for now."

"Decent? I have never once had a single complaint about my technique," he teased her back. "OK, there was that one girl when I was fourteen, but I don't think Zeus himself could have gotten her off."

Before she could comment on that, he pulled her across his lap and laid a lip-lock on her that frankly, made her almost forget her name. The sudden escalation in cheers and whistles startled them both, and Kara stood up again to glance at the scoreboard then back down to the court. Someone on the Buccaneers had scored, and Kara was willing to bet it wasn't Anders.

The game continued with neither side pulling ahead for long, Anders' performance continuing to fall below Kara's exacting standards, and they decided to leave early. A few days later, Zak came bursting in the door of her apartment waving an envelope. Turned out that they'd missed the announcement of the drawing at the third break. Zak's ticket had won an all-expense-paid five-night trip for two to Rosarito Beach!

In Which Anders Lays Down a Challenge

Zak was pushing Kara down into the sand on Rosarito Beach, and just as he bent his head toward her lips, her attention was diverted over his shoulder to the tall guy silhouetted against the sun. He was talking to a gaggle of vacationing girls, flinging that charming smile around recklessly. Kara giggled when his face turned toward her a bit - he was obviously not getting what he wanted from them.

Then Zak's teeth skimmed her neck and she forgot all about Sam Anders in Rosarito Beach in favor of making out. When she looked up again, both he and the girls were gone and the sun was sinking beautifully into the ocean. Their trip back to the room was punctuated by kisses and wandering hands.

They frakked until they were sweaty, slept, cleaned up and went to dinner in the resort's bar, where Kara noticed Sam Anders, obviously alone, sulking at the bar. As they ordered, she caught Anders' eye and invited him over with a motion of her head. They had an entire conversation in less than a minute - "Me?" "Yes, you, you idiot." "I guess I've got nothing better to do." "You're telling me this?" "All right, all right," and he meandered over to stand at their table.

"Zak, this is Sam Anders. Sam, my uh, Zak."

"Your Zak?" he chuckled as he asked. "So what, you want an autograph?"

Kara snorted. "Frak, no! Are you kidding me? No, I just thought that since you can't seem to even pick up a cold, you might like to have dinner with us. I mean, we're here because of you, sort of." Zak seconded, pushing out the chair with his foot.

"What do you mean?"

"That game against the Bulls? The one where you moved the wrong direction and dropped the frakking ball in the process? Zak's ticket to that game won this trip."

"Guess that means you owe me."

"I don't owe you a thing, Anders, but what'd you have in mind?"

"You wanna take apart my game performance? You think you could have done better? We play, you and me, one on one."

Zak snickered, and Kara rose to the bait. "You know what? You are on. Tomorrow. Find us a court and tell me when."