As usual, I disclaim everything and everyone ... though I've had a god time with some of it ...

A/N - the theme at this point is: what's the worst thing that could happen ... we will be revisiting this theme often.

The Ultimate Debate – Boston 03
By Alfonsina

There are days and then there are days, you know? This had been one of those days. Nothing had gone right from the time that I discovered that Brett was using my toothbrush. I usually have a spare in my locker at work and at home, but not in the shaving kit I use when I travel.

"Dude, based on my dragon's breath, I'm beginning to wish I'd packed my toothbrush," he'd said after he spit into the sink and offered me my own toothbrush.

"No thanks. I'll just gargle this morning. We'll hit a drugstore before we go to the office." No way was I ever going to use that toothbrush again. That's just disgusting. "Did you forget any other toiletries?"

"Let me think," he said opening his bag. "Pretty much everything. Do you think you can lend me your razor and some shaving cream? How about some deodorant?"

Lovely. I'm sharing a room at a bed and breakfast with Brett and it looks to everyone in the place like we are partners but not in a business sense. As much as I don't like them to have that idea, I think it is preventing some of them from coming on to me, at least I hope it is.

"Don't you plan?"

"I never remember everything. At least I have enough uniforms for a week."

"How many pairs of underwear and socks did you pack?"

"Enough for two days."

"You knew we'd be here a minimum of four days."

"Yeah, but I figured I could rinse them in the sink and dry them over the tub at night. It's what I do when I'm camping."

"Yeah, but we don't know how long it'll take for stuff to dry here. And you usually camp in the summer, nature helps out providing breezes and sunlight."

"I know you brought extras, why don't I just borrow from you?"

I glared and mentally tried to drill a hole into his head. It didn't work, I try almost daily and it never works. One day, technology will be developed and I will be able to shoot lasers from my eyes and if I don't kill him, maybe I can perform a lobotomy on him.

I pulled a sheet of paper and a pen from my briefcase and began to write.

1. Chocolate
2. Underwear
3. Socks
4. Chocolate
5. Toothbrush
6. Deodorant
7. Chocolate

"What did you pack?" I asked.

"Condoms and lube."

"Sorry I asked; just use them somewhere else. Anything else you think you'll need?"

"Cookies and crackers. Maybe some chips?"

At least we could agree on something.

"Hey, I was just wondering. Did you collect or have any hobbies anything as a kid, Brett?"

"Just the usual. I collected spores, mold and bacteria."

Eww.

"Yeah, my dad was a research scientist and we'd grow stuff in his study so we could look at it under the microscope when he came home from work."

"Did you learn much?"

"Yeah, don't drink pond water unless you've filtered it and boiled it first.

~x~x~

We spent the day in the field doing what we do best, annoying each other. No one wanted to be paired with Brett, they said since we were going to be here such a short time we may as well just work together.

I heard a rumor that they thought they were playing 'Rangeman Roulette' if they took on new or different partners. Stupid. We all had similar backgrounds. Of course everyone had specialties and none of us were the same, but roulette? Come on, guys.

I still didn't get to meet George. The message from the control room was that George had laryngitis and the stomach flu; but would be working from an apartment. It seemed that George was as much part of this mini-epidemic as everyone else in Boston.

I sent a message to George about getting us accommodations nearer to the office. It seemed that George's search didn't produce anything that would be available for the next several days. If there was a convention in town, I didn't know about it. The only place we were going to get refuge was going to be the B&B.

Brett did call and talk to Larry about giving us two rooms. He couldn't get us into two rooms but offered to put us in his special suite; the future occupants weren't expecting a suite, just a room so there would be no problem. We did have to pay a higher fee, but for more space it would be well worth it.

After our shift was over, Hal and I went to Target and got him all the things he had on his list plus a new I-Pod and some DVDs he could watch on his computer. Since he forgot his credit card and had no cash, I paid.

We had dinner at a chain restaurant. Brett had grilled chicken and steamed veggies. I had the chocolate suicide. Chocolate suicide might get me through the rest of the night; chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, hot fudge sauce and chocolate ice cream.

"Man, you won't be fitting into your uniform if you keep eating like that," he said.

True. For now I wanted to dull my senses and alter my reality and the best way was to do it with chocolate. If I drank, I could get busted for driving under the influence, but I couldn't get busted for driving under the influence of chocolate.

~x~x~

When we arrived back 'home' for the night, Larry asked if we had any plans for the weekend. I didn't have a reason to go home and Brett wanted to sight see.

Brett said, "He wants to spend quality time with Barbie."

Yeah, I did. I hadn't had quality alone time with Barbie in ages.

"You're OK with that?" Larry asked. "Is she his daughter or something?"

"No," I said. "Feel free to hang out here, I'm going to go up to shower and change. I'll catch you later."

I was almost at the stairs when I heard Brett say, "He spends a lot of time and money on Barbie."

"That's got to be tough on you."

"His money, his decision. It's been a long couple of days. I'll see you in the morning."

"Just remember that you are responsible for finding the joy in your own life; don't depend on anyone to provide it for you."

~x~x~

The new room, or shall I say suite, was much larger but still had just the one bed, queen size. The room had a hardwood floor, lace curtains, votive candle holders everywhere and the color scheme was pink and lilac. I think I liked the Austin Powers room better.

Any notions I had of sleeping in a recliner or sofa were put to rest, the chairs were all wing back and the sofa was a loveseat. I contemplated sleeping in the bathtub, but it didn't have one, it had an amazing shower instead. Sure, I could have slept on the floor of the shower, but it just isn't the same as sleeping in a tub.

The bathroom would have been ideal for any woman; there were mirrors everywhere and a double vanity. The counter was a gorgeous marble and the fixtures were all brushed silver. Everything matched perfectly. I'm just fine with it, or I was until I realized the toilet and bidet matched; I couldn't let my mind go there.

I was unloading my bag into the dresser when Brett came in.

"Why did you bring up Barbie?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm trying to get some of the guys to quit looking at you that way."

They were looking at me? Me? You've got to be kidding.

"Besides," he said, "you will be spending a lot of time with her for the next round of qualifications. The last time you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off of the vehicle during the simulation, not destroy the whole truck. Plus I've seen the brochures and magazines you've been reading. I know you're going to be picking out new furniture for her."

He was right, I am picking out new furniture. That's both the good news and the bad news.

"Why do you call it Barbie anyway?" he asked.

"Easy. An AR-15 is a fabulous gun and everyone seems to like it."

"So?"

"So, people who like things make accessories for them. AR's have all sorts of goodies you can buy to customize them. Including but not limited to the slings, magazines, flashlights, scopes, grips, stocks and other furniture."

"I repeat, so?"

"So, the AR is like a little girl's Barbie; there is always one more thing to buy, one more way to play with it, one more way to make it your own."

"And if you own more than one?"

"Interchangeable toys, naturally." Ok, so I sounded smug when I said it, but I had three ARs and I could swap the accessories between my toys.

~x~x~

That night, I was destined to sleep on the floor. I pulled the cushions off the loveseat and the chairs and tried to get comfortable and couldn't. I kept slipping off one cushion or another just as I'd fall to sleep and wake when my body met hard floor. It is hard to believe I'd go for weeks at a time not noticing rocks under my body while I was in-country; with age comes softness, I guess.

At about midnight Brett said, "Princess, you may as well sleep on the bed with me. I don't bite."

"Princess?" Excuse me? I am just as macho as the other guys in the office, probably I have more testosterone than the average man on the street. Probably …

"Come on, Hal, you remember the Princess and the Pea don't you?"

Yeah, I did. Somehow I didn't think that my getting a bruise on my backside showing how delicate I was was the answer to my problems or questions. Around this place a bruise on my backside might mean something completely different.

"Get in," he said. "We may as well both be comfortable."

~x~x~

"Bro, you need to cut back on the chocolate or you won't have the beginnings of a muffin top, you'll have the entire muffin."

Right now I'd like to turn into a pound cake and pound him. Why is he suddenly the diet and exercise enforcer? We aren't home, so no one really knows. I have a uniform that is one size up from normal; I bought it in case of emergency and it looks like I'm going to have an emergency.

"Chocolate is my drug of choice, now leave me alone."

"But, you should at least be reading the labels on the packaged stuff you buy. You know that right?"

Sure, I know that. I am actively choosing right now not to read. Right now I am pretending that calories consumed while 'living with' Brett don't count. I am pretending that any calories I consume will turn into brain cells and transfer from my body to his mind. So my imagination is a little active right about now, but it has been two hours since my last hit and I feel like I'm going to die.

"How about these cookies?" he asked showing me a box of Healthy Choice Devil's Food cookies. "There're almost no sugars in these. See, sugars 4 grams. Sugar alcohols 21 grams. See? No problem."

"Do you even know what a sugar alcohol is?"

"No. Probably not all that important, because it is the sugars that
are a big deal."

"Fine. I'll buy a box of these and a box of real cookies."

"Want me to hide the real ones?"

F G H I J K L

"No."

~x~x~

After we got home, I opened the box of cookies and let Brett try one. He ate almost the entire box in one sitting. They looked good and they smelled good but I didn't want to interrupt his pleasure. You see, I know what sugar alcohols are, they are the 'ol' sweetners like sorbitol and xylitol and those things always give me intestinal problems.

I was looking forward to seeing how those cookies impacted Brett. I was hoping there would be enough toilet paper in the bathroom, just in case.

~x~x~

I had about half an hour to myself before Brett came back from his walk around the block with Larry. Larry had been giving Brett special treatment since Brett's unexplained illness. Larry had delivered pots of tea and broth to the room for two days. It was fine by me, they played well together, but I didn't have a lot of time to myself.

If I spent too much time downstairs or at work, Larry and Darryl, Larry's partner, gave me dirty looks. It was as though I was ignoring my significant other. I really didn't have the heart to tell them the truth, and they were in the process of adopting Brett.

I was scribbling as fast as I could to get all of the pent up thoughts and emotions. I was out of chocolate and now my underwear was tight. It is one thing to have tight pants, you can usually undo the button and no one knows, but when the elastic digs in at the waist, there is no escape. I caught an old episode of Oprah the other night when I was with 'the guys' ... it was about the benefits of journaling.

Maybe, just maybe, this would satisfy my emotional needs. I'd be willing to do it until the elastic quit leaving such harsh marks on my skin.

I was just about to write something that would be highly inappropriate and not very PC when I heard him behind me.

"You know, Hal, you've gotten really quiet since you got yourself that notebook. You don't talk to anyone anymore, all you do is scribble and grunt. I've heard that writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. You aren't going skitzo on me are you? Cause I can take you to the doctor if that's what's going on."

After Brett's smart ass comment about me and going nuts, I decided to take a bath. Not a shower, a bath. You heard me right.

You see, Brett and I got a new room when he was stricken with tummy troubles. Between his excessive need of the bathroom, his pending adoption by Larry and Darryl which provided him favored son status, we were moved to yet a different room.

It was THE ROOM, the one that they had a waiting list for. Brett and his smile garnered the honeymoon suite. Yep. Now not only are we partners in the eyes of everyone here, but they are trying to help us to rekindle the love. If they only knew what they were doing.

The room was something out of Gone with the Wind. It was large, had hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, candles on every flat surface, bookcases, an amazing sound system, handmade rag rugs, a bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub big enough to accommodate two, and a canopy bed. The bed was one of those raised numbers with the big dust ruffle and gauzy stuff over the top of it. It was actually a very pretty bed, but once again it was a queen.

I asked Larry why the queen and he said, "I have a thing for queens of all kinds."

I should have known better than to have asked.

I decided not to ask about the special basket that was on the center of the bed. It was an official honeymoon welcome basket. It had three DVDs, one of them was a Boys Gone Wild. The next was Greatest Moments of Herbert Horsecock. The last DVD was the old Christopher Reeve movie, Somewhere in Time. The basket also held had a variety of scented soaps and bath oils, fancy shaving cream and new razors. I moved some of the raffia to discover two new vibrating cock rings, three boxes of extra large-extra sensitive condoms, and a lube that warmed to body temperature upon application.

At the foot of the bed was a blanket chest that was padded to use for some additional seating. Too bad it wasn't king in length, I might have started to sleep there. On the top of the chest was a silver tray with a champagne bucket with some kind of wine cooling over the ice and matching wine glasses that were etched "His" and "His". The note on the tray said, "We hope you love birds have a good time. Play safe. Smooches, Larry and Darryl."

I soaked for almost an hour. I was finally starting to come down from the mania of being without chocolate for three hours when I decided it was safe to leave.

Brett was sitting on the bed crying.

"What's the matter?" I asked. I might not like him all that well, but I don't like watching anyone in tears.

"It's the movie?" he sobbed. "It's so beautiful, so tragic. Do you think it could really happen?"

"What?"

God, I hope he's not watching the Boys Gone Wild thing and found someone with a piercing he envied.

"Do you think you can find a love across time like that?"

Oh boy.

~x~x~

It took Brett about two hours to quit crying over the ending of Somewhere In Time. He was crying over the story, the fact the Christopher Reeve was an undervalued actor, that he now loved that song; it was his new favorite music.

"Brett, you gonna be OK?" I asked.

"Sure. Do you have a hanky? My nose is getting raw from the Kleenex."

Perfect. I like hankies because they are soft and remind me of my dad. I usually have a couple floating around, but I didn't realize Brett was aware.

"I'll give it back after I do laundry," he sniffled.

"Fine," I said as I walked to the dresser and retrieved it for him.

"Anything else?"

"Can you see if Larry's got any low cal hot chocolate in the kitchen? He knows the kind I like."

Of course he does.

"Sure. I'll be back."

Great. Now Brett has ME doing his bidding. This keeps getting worse and worse for me, doesn't it?

I came back with a tray for Brett that was made up by Darryl. In addition to one mug of low cal cocoa, there was a bowl of mini-marshmallows, a handful of regular marshmallows, a small dish of ice cream, and a can of whipped topping.

"God this is good," he said. "It's perfect. Thanks for bringing it up."

"No problem. Can we cut the lights soon, tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"You know, Hal, they're using Splenda in everything, not just hot chocolate. I've even seen brownie mixes made with Splenda."

He's telling me now? Splenda is no problem for my digestive track. Splenda might be able to help me cut down on the calories ...

"I guess you could say that Larry and Darryl think that love is a many Splenda'd thing," he said as he took another sip.

L M N O P Q R S T U ...

Oh, forget it. I'm just going to pretend this never happened.

to be continued.

A/N: I promise that Hal is going to survive this, he just doesn't want to sometimes.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing ... Alf