I turned off the light and had just settled in. The comfort of another human being next to me, the soft mattress and sheets, I soaked it all in. While lost in the glorious concept of being able to sleep in a warm, comfortable and familiar bed, I was yanked out of my coziness and into some rough hands and a scratchy beard.

"Don't move and don't make a sound." His voice was low and serious. The rough hands pawed at my hair, picking up where he left off three weeks before. "You were gone way too long," Greg continued while reassuring himself that he wasn't alone that night, running his hands all over my skin and tugging at my clothes. If he kept at it I was going to look like a birthday present torn open in a frenzy before daylight.

I squirmed around a little too much, then made the mistake of muttering, "Sorry".

"I told you to be quiet," he growled into my ear. "Just sit still and be quiet. Do you think you can handle that or do I need to get out some more sleeping pills?"

He was all weirded out again, giving me a refresher course of who was in charge and who I belonged to. In some bizarre way I could understand why he needed to do this. Greg wasn't touchy-feely unless it was on his terms and followed his ever changing set of rules. Me being gone for so long altered his play-book. On the other hand, I wasn't expecting it so soon. He must possess some kind of sixth sense that tells him when I'm going to be caught off guard by his strange moods.

Time to fight fire with fire. I seized his wrists and I heard a faint gasp of surprise from his side of the bed. I chuckled in the dark room. "What if I don't want to shut up?" I matched his gravelly voice with my own. "Should I leave for another three weeks?"

"No. Just be quiet."

"I don't want to be quiet. What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. What should I do?" Far from angry at my sudden burst of defiance, he sounded amused more than anything.

"Gag me with a tie?"

"I'd have to look for them."

"You haven't found them yet? It's not like they're hidden in Timbuktu or anything."

"Too much work. I'm haven't been in the mood. I've had other things on my mind."

"Fair enough. Tell you what, just keep doing what you were doing before without all the restrictions on me," I said, softening my voice and letting go of his wrists.

The bed dipped with all of its wonderfully prosaic creaks and squeaks as he inched closer, then gathered me up in his arms like a giant teddy bear. Not rough this time, just the moves of man seeking some comfort. That was something I could sit still for. I needed some comfort too. Maybe more than he did.

Neither of us said another word for the rest of the night.

Greg cast a suspicious glance in my direction when I set a heaping plate of macadamia nut pancakes in front of him. "What is this, a bribe?"

"Just thought I'd start the morning off on the right foot, for you and me," I drolled, and turned back to the stove. "But you can call it a bribe if you want. You're not going to hurt my feelings."

"I'm not going to mess with the person who handles my food, especially when he has access to all kinds of nasty substances."

"And knows how to use them," I pointed out.

"Hmph," was his witty reply. Whatever he truly thought the breakfast symbolized, good or bad, that didn't stop him from dumping a quart of syrup on them and scarfing them down like he was in an eating contest.

By the time I got my plate to the table, he was nearly done. One lonesome pancake was drowning in a lake of syrup on his plate. Then, like a complete moron, I fell for the old 'what's that behind your back' trick, and he speared a pancake off my plate before I could turn back around. One of these days I might learn, but that will the day a masked killer with a machete is sneaking up behind me.

"All you had to do was ask for some more," I said with a scowl and pulled what was left of my breakfast out of his reach.

"Yours always taste so much better," he replied, and made an overblown production of munching on his ill-gotten prize.

If I was going to survive until lunch, I had to eat faster and not be too obvious. He noticed, of course, and that made his damnable smirk even broader. "It's nice to see that all those nights of eating take-out didn't spoil your culinary skills," he said. "Frozen pancakes and waffles just can't compare to these."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Is this the real reason why you wanted me to come back? For pancakes?"

"That, too."

"It's nice to know where your priorities really were when you showed up at the hotel."

"I just complimented your cooking, Jimmy. You of all people should know that I don't toss out compliments all that often. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it."

"Good. Now aren't you glad you opened the door?"