Alex clearly had something on her mind as she sat down next to Lena on the sectional.

"You can turn yourself into a man, yeah? Not just for few minutes like with the Hal thing?"

"Yes, although I prefer not to," Lena said.

"But you have, right? You've been a man?"

Tom and Hal had been watching a movie, Tom slumped on one end of the sofa and Hal sitting on the other. They exchanged a look; this conversation sounded like it was going to be much more interesting than their movie. Tom turned off the television as the two men's heads swiveled, nearly in unison, toward Lena.

"I have assumed a male identity as a means of moving freely through cultures where females are restricted," Lena said, "but only briefly, and only when absolutely necessary." Lena found herself using formal language and a clipped tone as a means of discouraging further discussion. It didn't work.

"Can you have sex as a man?" Alex asked the question she had been leading to. If anyone knew how a ghost could shag, it would be Lena.

"Nooo," Lena drew out the word as she shook her head decisively. "I have no interest in having sex as a man."

Alex frowned. That wasn't the answer she was looking for.

Hal studied Lena thoughtfully. He had spent enough time with her to know when something wasn't quite right. Something in her attitude and expression…

"You can't do it, can you?"

Hal could tell he was right as soon as he said the words. Lena buried her face in her hands and shook her head adamantly with a shudder. Finally, red-faced, she burst out, "I couldn't get the damned thing to work!"

Alex snorted and giggled as Tom and Hal burst out laughing.

"Okay you guys, it's not that funny! Really! Fuck me if I ever tell you people anything, ever, again."

"I'm sorry," Hal said, "but the notion that there is something you cannot do is so charmingly refreshing—" he broke off at the mortified look on her face.

Alex grabbed Lena's arm and said, "You have to tell us the story!"

"Yes, please do, I beg you," Hal added. Tom was nodding enthusiastically as well.

Lena sat for a moment shaking her head. She had never told anyone the details of her experiment with manhood, but confessing might make her feel better about the whole horrible thing. "Okay I'll tell you but if you laugh, I will beat every one of you to a pulp, I swear!" she said.

Her housemates calmed themselves as Alex joined the guys on the sofa. They all three sat sedately, poised and ready to behave like the innocent cherubs that they were. Lena took a breath and jumped to her feet as the story poured out of her in a rush.

"It was awful! Oh my god, the dangly parts were the worst! I had the most fragile bits of my anatomy just hanging out there all the time, unprotected! It was unnerving!" She shuddered at the memory. "And I kept forgetting that I was supposed to have body hair, and I couldn't make the stubble show up on my face as the day went on, and I itched in all the wrong places."

Hal was grinning and Alex was giggling into her hand to muffle the noise, and Tom had both hands firmly planted over his mouth so as not to laugh out loud again, but he was very red-faced and Lena knew he was just about to blow. She gave up on the notion of getting through the story unscathed. She paused and nodded, beckoning with her hands that they could laugh at will. They did. When they quieted down she continued.

"I couldn't even think about sex, everything was so badly scrambled in my head. When a pretty girl walked by I had absolutely no reaction, but when a hot guy got close to me, boing, there it went. It was uncontrollable, and obvious, and I had no idea when it was going to happen."

She paused for another round of chuckles and chortles.

"Then this girl decided I was just her type and her father presented me with three goats and a chicken and suddenly we were married! I had to have sex with her or she would be humiliated in front of the tribe. And I couldn't get the damned thing to work!" Lena was gesturing toward her own crotch with both hands now as if the 'damned thing' was still attached.

Yet another round of hilarity ensued.

"Oh my god, the poor girl," Alex said. "What did you do?"

"I took off. What else could I do? I went off and slaughtered a mighty beast and carried it back and presented it to her with my apologies and I left. Never looked back." Lena flopped onto the sectional, her story officially over. In this case, confession had not been good for her, but it had clearly been very entertaining for her housemates.

Tom and Hal thought they were getting themselves under control until they looked at each other.

"Boing," Tom mouthed the word and they collapsed into snickers and giggles again.

After that evening, "boing" became the guaranteed laugh-maker at Honolulu Heights.

"Is that the toaster I hear, Tom?"

"Yes, Hal, it is. The toast is ready."

"What was that noise the toaster made, Tom?"

"Well Hal, I believe it was a 'boing.'"

"I hate you all." Lena muttered into her coffee cup as her housemates snickered and snorted around her.

"Alex, what is that hideous noise coming from the stereo?"

"Well Hal, that is "Weird Science," a song by the group Oingo Boingo."

"Oingo Boingo you say?"

"Yes Hal, Oingo Boingo."

"You can all kiss my ass," Lena said as she pulled the cassette tape from the player and snapped it in half.

"I think we should get a new doorbell for the house."

"Really Tom, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, Alex, I saw one that had a lovely chime. Bing Boing, Bing Boing."

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on." Lena left the room.

Alex walked casually into the living room and pulled a red rubber ball from her jacket pocket. She began casually bouncing it on the floor as a grin spread across her face. Tom and Hal burst into laughter.

"Payback's a bitch. I'm warning you now. Just wait." Lena grabbed the ball and squeezed it until it exploded.

Lena had her head in the refrigerator looking for an orange when she heard the noise behind her. Boing. Snicker. Boing. Snicker. She turned around. Tom had a doorstop spring and was casually flicking it to make the sound. He was leaning against the kitchen counter across the room from her. Hal was next to him. They were both snickering.

Alex walked into the kitchen and plopped into a chair. "What's that noise, Tom?"

"Well, Alex, it sounds like a mnft—!" Lena had stalked across the room and grabbed Tom by the back of the neck and the waist, yanked him away from the counter and bent him into a backward dip like a woman in a cheap romance movie. She planted a deep kiss right on Tom's lips, drawing him in until his flailing arms drooped in submission, then she dropped him on the floor where he lay, gasping in shock.

She turned to Hal next and used the fact that he was gaping, open-mouthed, to deliver a full-onslaught French kiss. When he responded she simply lured his tongue into her own mouth, caressed it playfully with her lips and tongue, and nipped it gently in a move that weakened his knees and sent his heart rate through the roof. When she pushed away from him, Hal nearly joined Tom on the floor.

Alex was leaning back in her chair, laughing. "I get it! Boing! Oh, Lena, this is too funny!"

Lena wiped her mouth on her sleeve as she strode over to Alex. She straddled Alex's legs, put a hand on each side of her face, stared into her eyes with a grin, and said, "Tangibility, baby." Lena gave the ghost a kiss that she felt clear to her toes.

Having silenced them all, Lena gave them a victor's smirk. "Thank you, thank you very much," she said, throwing her arms out wide. She bowed before pushing open the swinging doors to the dining room with a flourish and exiting the kitchen. "Elvis has left the building," she said triumphantly on the way out.

The housemates were individually stunned and deeply disturbed by their kisses. Alex finally found her voice again. "Shite!" she whispered, "I think I just became bisexual." With that statement the ghost vanished.

Hal carefully made his way out of the kitchen and upstairs to the new bathroom, where he locked the door and made sure he didn't make too much noise and cleaned up after himself. He assumed Tom was somewhere doing the same.

# # #

The next morning when the toast popped up in the toaster there was a moment of absolute silence in the kitchen.

"Boing," Lena murmured with a half-smile.

Tom hastily left the table to get his toast. Hal gave Lena a measuring look. He wasn't quite ready to admit defeat.

"Isn't there an edict against commingling with cursed beings?" he asked Lena, looking significantly at Tom in order to include him in the question.

"There is," she replied coolly. "That wasn't commingling, that was payback."

"How exactly does one tell the difference?" Hal asked as Tom rejoined them at the table.

"Commingling implies mutual enjoyment," she said impassively.

Hal caught her meaning immediately. "I see," he said, and he left the table and stalked out of the kitchen, offended that she been unaffected by what he had considered an exceptionally good kiss on his part.

Lena maintained her expressionless face until he was gone, then she gave a half-smile and turned to Tom.

"I enjoyed kissing you, Tom. It was lovely."

Tom blushed and stuttered into his toast.

"What about me?" Alex asked.

"You too, Alex," Lena said. "Tangibility isn't an issue for me; I've always been able to connect well with ghosts."

"But you didnae like kissin' Hal?" the ghost asked.

"I didn't say that," Lena said.

"Aw, remind me never to gamble against you," Alex said in admiration. "You've got the best poker face I've seen."

# # #

Lena got regular deliveries from London, usually work-related documents and reports sent from her corporate office. Sometimes a personal letter from some far-flung member of her family was included, usually with a photo or two of families or children in school uniforms. She didn't show them off; they were part of her life beyond Honolulu Heights. She read the letters, admired the photos and put them away in her treasure chest, which she kept locked, supernaturally sealed and stored in the bottom of the wardrobe.

Hal had seen her do it because he was always there. She had explained to him that her most precious items, pictures of her children, all of them centuries old and carefully preserved, took up the majority of space in the chest. He didn't pry. Hal understood the need to keep some things private. Alex didn't understand and was frankly curious.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked as she came into Lena's room one evening.

"Putting this away," Lena answered as she slid her treasure chest, which actually a sturdy leather-covered wood box with hinged lid, into the bottom of her wardrobe.

"What's in there? Your letters and stuff?"

"Yes, letters and photos from family and friends. Also there are pictures of my own children, which are very old and fragile. I keep it locked away to protect them," Lena replied.

"Can I see them?" Alex perched on Lena's bed as she asked.

"Nope," Lena replied. "Fragile means 'do not disturb'."

"What are they, on paper or something? Scrolls? Cave paintings?" Alex was beginning to have fun with the idea of just how old Lena's family pictures might be.

"Cave paintings wouldn't fit in the box, Alex. I'd need photos of them instead," Lena replied in a deadpan voice.

Alex couldn't tell if she was joking or not and looked at her suspiciously.

"My children's pictures are carefully wrapped and stored in order to preserve them and I don't intend to unwrap them and risk damaging them for the sake of your curiosity," Lena continued. "And yes, one of them is on a scroll, and there are several on paper as well. I can show you photos of some of my current descendants, but they wouldn't be anyone you'd know."

"No, I want to see the old ones," Alex said. "Living with you is like living in a history class."

Hal thought Lena might appreciate changing the subject. He spoke from the boudoir chair where he had been reading a status report on former-vampire-owned business acquisitions. Some of his suggestions of companies to investigate had paid off.

"How are things progressing at the hotel, Alex?" he asked. "Are you still Alex the friendly ghost or have you been able to make yourself seen?"

"I still can't be seen for real, but I think I'm getting closer," Alex replied. "One of the crew asked if I was wearing a dress the other day. He saw something when I was helping Tom set up lunch."

"Really? That's great!" Lena said. "What did Tom say?"

"He said that I had on a dress and leather jacket and boots, and that I was good-lookin' and it was a shame the other fella couldn't see me," Alex replied. "Tom's real sweet about stuff like that."

"What explanation does Tom give for the fact that he is the only one who can see you?" Hal asked.

"Oh, he says it's 'cause he's the only one I want to see me, like we've got something special and I can be seen by anyone I want." Alex smiled. "He said, 'reckon you'll see 'er when she wants ya to an not b'fore.' Like it was my choice."

"He believes in you," Lena said quietly. "One day it will be your choice, you'll see."

"Yeah, that's what Tom says. Speakin' of which, I'm supposed to beat him at poker tonight. Hal, do you remember where we put the deck of Peppa Pig cards?"

# # #

Hal had gotten into the habit of using the new bathroom, especially when they were both upstairs, because it was next to Lena's room and close to his own. It was convenient and kept him within her sphere of influence. He found an odd little gadget sitting on a folded towel on the back of the toilet and carried it to Lena's room.

"Is this yours?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," she said as she took the little gadget and put it away in her bureau.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Sorry, you weren't meant to see it," she replied, her back still to him as she stood in front of her bureau. There was a moment of silence.

"Some secret new technology?" he asked lightly.

"New technology, yes. Not a secret, just something personal."

"What does it do?" he asked, a note of grimness entering his voice. Hal was beginning to suspect what it did, and he didn't like it.

Lena sighed. She assumed her answer would start a shit storm. Why hadn't she put the thing away right after her shower? A fucking phone call, and then I forgot.

"It's a clitoral stimulator, Hal."

"A what?" He was briefly confused but got angry as he sorted out the meanings of the words she had used to describe the gadget.

She turned around to face him. "It's a sex toy. I use it to pleasure myself."

"Jesus Christ, woman! I'm right here!" He was yelling, mortified and enraged at the notion of her using such a thing when he was clearly willing to provide for her. He dropped all pretence of the civil flirtatious gentleman; his voice was raw with frustration.

She yelled back, civility gone, frustration clear. "I know you're right here! I wouldn't need that thing nearly as much as I do if you weren't always right here!"

He walked toward her, all anger and harsh angles. "Anything that thing can do for you, I can do better," he declared, glaring at her, his face barely a foot from her own.

"I know you can!" she said, glaring back at him. "That's not the point."

"Your fucking edict!" he spat at her.

"Your fucking curse!" she spat back.

Hal wheeled and stormed out of her room, slamming her door as he went. He practically ran to his own room and slammed the door, then strode across the room and grabbed his overstuffed chair, throwing it against the door. Profanity poured out of him as he tore apart his room; he threw his bedding and mattress; he shook his bed frame until it fell to pieces and he threw the pieces into the growing pile in front of his door. He flung books and bookcase, clothes and shoes, stationary bike. Finally he tipped the wardrobe over onto its face and looked around the room, panting and still in a rage. There was nothing left except the sink, which was fastened to the wall.

He peeled off his shirt as he kicked aside enough mess to give himself some clear floor space, then dropped and began doing press-ups. He didn't bother to count, he just kept going until his limbs gave out and he collapsed from exhaustion. He laid there, his mind still running riot. All of his powers of seduction, all of his experience, the thousands of women he had mastered, meant nothing. She chose a toy when she could have him. She knew he could please her, but she chose a toy instead. How much did she hate him, to make that choice? How dangerous to her was his curse? Finally Hal reached the question at the core of it all: why did it matter?

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Why did it matter what she did in her private time? Why had he gone mad at the thought of her enjoying herself without him? As amazing as they had been together when he was human, Hal had no expectation that sex with Lena would be extraordinary now. It couldn't be, without the blood. He was a vampire now, and for a vampire sex was just an appetizer before the true feast. So why did it matter that she refused to give him that one thing, when she gave him so much of herself?

Because he wanted all of her, the good and the bad; he wanted every breath of her, and every look, and every touch, and every word to belong to him. Because she owned him; every breath of him, every look, every touch, every word belonged to her. Because he wanted to destroy anyone and anything that touched her in a way that he could not; because she could destroy him whenever she wanted but chose not to, and in that truth lay a tenuous hope.

There was a knock at the door.

"What?" he called out.

"Knuckles to wood, just like a normal person," Alex said as she popped into the room. "Lena said you had a meltdown. Shite! She wasn't kidding."

"What do you want, Alex?" Hal asked as he slowly sat up.

"I don't know. Nothing. You want some help cleaning this up?" She began to sort through the pile, pulling out books and stacking them in a corner as she spoke.

"I don't really care," Hal said. "Why does it matter?"

"You're my friend and you're upset," she replied simply.

"I'm not your friend, Alex. The man who was your friend wouldn't have done this." He waved a hand wearily at the chaos he had created.

"Good Hal wouldn't have done this, that's for sure. But Mr. Creepy wouldn't have either. He'd have run off looking for people to kill." Alex stopped work and looked at Hal for a moment. "I don't know exactly who you are, but I do know that you are my friend." She went back to work.

Hal sat quietly, watching her. Alex had seen him at his worst and still considered him a friend. So had Tom, for that matter. The world wasn't all black and miserable, after all. He had friends. That had to count for something.

Just as he was beginning to get his equilibrium back Hal felt the vampire stirring. He was no longer under Lena's influence.

"Where's Lena?" he asked. "She's not in her room. I can tell."

"She's dancing," Alex replied.

"I need her," Hal said quietly.

"I'll get her." Alex was gone.

She popped into the studio where Lena was tearing the hell out of her frustration with "Painkiller" by Judas Priest. She was dancing, if it could be called that, with knives clutched in her fists. Alex wondered if she was killing Hal in her dance; she was certainly attacking something. Alex had the sense to wait until the song was over before she turned off the sound system. Lena spun to face her immediately.

"Hal needs you," Alex said. "His door is blocked. You'll have to rent-a-ghost in."

Lena took a deep breath and sheathed her knives. "Okay."

"Can I come with you? Hal says your rent-a-ghosting is different from mine," Alex asked.

"Sure," Lena said, calming herself down with another deep breath. "Come here." She put her arms around Alex's waist and took them together to Hal's room. He was just getting to his feet.

"That didn't seem much different to me," Alex said as she went back to sorting and stacking books. She didn't want to be in the middle of whatever had caused Hal's meltdown.

Lena looked around. "Your room is a mess," she said.

"So am I," Hal said.

"I think this whole operation is FUBARed," she replied.

"What?" Hal's expression told her that he was unfamiliar with the term.

"Sorry," Lena said, "military acronym. I thought you might know it. FUBAR. Fucked up beyond all recognition."

A smile flickered across Hal's face and was gone. "I hadn't heard of it, but it sounds like something a soldier would say, and it is an apt description for the current state of things."

"What do you need?" she asked.

"You," he replied simply. "As much as you can give me without putting yourself at risk."

He held out his hand like a traffic cop signaling for a stop. Lena brushed it aside as she stepped in to slide her arms around him and give him a gentle hug. She made sure to give Hal as much contact as she could; she wrapped her bare arms around his back, spread her hands across the surface of his skin, and set her face in the hollow of his neck. He rested his hands on her shoulders, careful not to pull her closer. He accepted what she offered.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It is none of my business."

"I shouldn't have left it there," she said. "I'll be more careful."

They stood quietly for a minute, her presence calming the curse while exciting the man, until he felt a familiar stirring in his pants.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Boing?" she whispered with a hint of laughter.

"Sadly, yes," he replied as they pulled apart from each other. "It is a chronic condition, and one that has no cure.

"I know what you mean," she said with a wry smile. "We are FUBARed, Hal, and there's nothing we can do about it. Let's work on the mess that we can fix, okay?"

She pulled a shirt out of the chaos on the floor and handed it to him. He put it on and they worked together, with Alex's help, to set the wardrobe upright. Fortunately it wasn't badly broken and Alex was able to make it workable with a few simple fixes. She was an old hand at furniture repair; it had been a frequent requirement with her three brothers in the house.

They had Hal's room about three-fourths back in order when Tom came home from the hotel, later than expected. "What happened?" Tom asked from the doorway of Hal's room.

"Hal had a meltdown," Alex replied.

"You alright, mate?" Tom looked at Hal with concern.

"No, thank you for asking. But I'm doing better," Hal replied.

"Mr. Rook come to see me again. That's why I'm late," Tom said. The conversation was weighing heavily on him and he needed his friends' advice. "They caught the werewolf that attacked the Rileys."

Tom took a deep breath and continued, frowning. "Mr. Rook wants me to help decide what happens to him, to the werewolf. I don't wanna do that, decide if another man should live or die or be locked up or aught."

"What do you mean?" Lena asked. "Is this part of Dominic's new agenda for the DoDD?"

"Yeah, that's what he said," Tom replied. He sat on Hal's bed, which was back in one piece but still unmade, the bedding in a pile on the mattress. "He says that 'humans can't appropriately determine what happens to werewolves because they aren't peers.' Mr. Rook wants a jury of werewolves, or a court, or a tribunal. He threw a lot of words around, I ain't sure what he wants, but he wants me in it."

"So he wants werewolves to begin policing themselves, much as vampires have been doing for centuries," Hal said. "Of course, vampire rule of order has nothing to do with protecting humanity. I can see why Rook would try his experiment with werewolves first. Your species is much more amenable to interacting with humans, and much less of a threat in general."

"Yeah, but why does he want me? I'm not a barrister. I don't know the law." Tom rubbed his hands over his closely cropped hair, a sign that he was worried. "McNair didn't follow the law on all counts," he admitted.

"Maybe not, Tom, but you are a highly ethical person and that makes you an excellent choice to help form whatever sort of quasi-legal system Rook has in mind," Hal said. At Tom's slightly confused look, Hal rephrased. "You are a good man with a good heart and you will do your best to make good decisions."

"Do you think it would work?" Alex asked. "Having werewolves make up their own rules? How is that possible?"

"I suspect that within the sphere of Mr. Rook's influence many things are possible," Hal said. "He gave his word to change the focus of the DoDD after the Hatch incident. It seems that he is determined to move forward."

"He's got 'im locked up at the archive for now," Tom said, his thoughts returning to the werewolf. He turned to Lena. "Your friend Bernard helped catch 'im. He wanted to kill him straight off, but Mr. Rook said he needed to make sure he couldn't be rehabilitated first."

"Bernard doesn't have much patience with killers," Lena said. "He may believe that the man is irredeemable. I could go to the archive and see for myself, but that would defeat the purpose of Rook's plan. I suspect that he wants to use this as a test case, to help establish a rule of law specific to the werewolf species."

"What do you mean, 'see for yourself?' Can you judge a man's worth simply by looking at him?" Hal was certain that Lena's answer would be 'no.'

"Yes, actually, with enough focus and concentration I can assess the quality of a person's soul," she said. "How do you think I track down demons? I can sense evil, both free-running and bound to a person, but souls in torment call out the loudest to me. I follow the pain and find the cause. That's why vampires are harder for me to catch. You don't have a soul for me to read. I only know you by the lack of a soul and the color of your curse."

"Terrifying," Hal murmured.

"So, Lena, can you see my soul?" Tom asked.

"I don't see so much as sense its condition, Tom, but I promise you that you have a very healthy soul with very few shadows on it, in spite of the number of vampires you've killed," Lena replied with a smile.

"Aw, good. I was hopin' that wouldn't count against me, like," Tom said, relieved. "I told Mr. Rook he should talk to Allison Larkin about the court thingy. She'd be brilliant at settin' up a legal court and all that."

"She would," Hal agreed. "She would organize the entire operation with remarkable efficiency." He turned to Lena and Alex. "You have yet to meet Ms. Larkin. She is quite…impressive."

"That's the girl Tom's sweet on, right?" Lena asked.

"Yeah, she's at university and studying too much to come and visit, I reckon," Alex answered for Tom. "I think they are Facebook friends."

"Allison's a real good student, top of her class. She works real hard. I'm proud of her." Tom didn't add that he would be happier if Allison studied a little less and visited with her friends a little more. She seldom posted online and that was his only means of keeping up with her.

"The chance to see Allison again would be a reason to join Rook's experiment," Hal pointed out. "It sounds like the sort of thing she couldn't resist."

"And I'm sure that you wouldn't be asked to make any decisions before their proper time, Tom," Lena added. "Dominic isn't a man to be under-prepared. I'm sure he has the resources that he needs to make a good start with his werewolf legal system."

"I just don't like the idea, that's all," Tom said. "I don't want to say what happens to someone else. I can hardly decide what happens to myself!"

"You were willing to blow yourself up to save the world from vampires and you were willing to die to save the world from Hatch," Alex said. "How terrible can this court thingy be?"

"That was me decidin' I could die, Alex, not decidin' for some other bloke."

"You were gonna kill Hal when he went bad, and he's your best mate," Alex pointed out. "I reckon this will be easy. You'll have other people thinking on it with you. Anyway, if it was me, I'd want you making the decision more than anyone, Tom."

"Maybe I'll give it a try. Might be good experience. Too bad I can't put it on my CV, it would look right impressive," Tom said, finding the bright side of things as usual. "And maybe Allison will be there too. That'd be alright, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, Tom, that'd be great," Alex replied, and she thought she might even have meant it. In truth, Alex didn't think much of Tom's absent sweetheart. If she had a chance at a fella like Tom, she'd give it everything she had instead of running off to school and forgetting about him. Maybe this Allison Larkin needed a reminder from a certain friendly ghost that life had no guarantees.

Alex was quieter than usual the rest of the evening, as she began to think seriously about finding Allison Larkin, and what to say to her when she did.

Hal was nearly asleep later that night when he recalled something that Lena had said during their brief but heated argument. Just one sentence, lost at the time because of his own anger, but it rang like a bell in his brain now, and he sat up with a grin. 'I wouldn't need that thing nearly as much as I do if you weren't always right here!' she had said. It was a small confession, but he'd take it, and he'd make sure to stay 'right here' until she decided to trade her little gadget for the real thing.