The night air was still. But the night was not yet old.

Ramani and Jo sat on the bonnet of the car with their legs dangling over the engine grill, and they looked up at what would most likely be stars, if this wasn't London.

"Up there is Arcturus," said Jo, pointing to the thick blanket of cloud that covered the sky. "And over there, that's Alpha Centauri."

"What's that one?" asked Ramani, pointing further to the left.

"You mean the one in a constellation of four?"

"No. Have a look where I'm pointing."

Jo leaned over, pressing her cheek against Ramani's, to look along the line of her arm.

"Oh yes. Now that has got to be Metebelis 3." Jo giggled like a child, and Ramani smiled into her skin.

Hands crept around lean limbs and curves. Fingers slid across suede and beneath faux fur, finding their way to warm folds of cotton and crevices of nylon and silk. Breaths came noisily, heavily. Kisses were magnetic.

There were long minutes, and short ones, but whatever their lengths the minutes kept coming, and going. Ramani knew there was something about time not going in a straight line, but she suspected, when she looked at her watch, that it probably wouldn't help her much by the time the sun started rising.

Their faces were warm as they kissed. Jo's arms were snug about her body. The metal of the car was cold beneath them, and the traffic noise from the adjacent street continued its perpetual hum. And there was nowhere, nothing, no one that Ramani wanted more.