Lena slept for hours. At one point she woke up enough to realize that she was in Hal's bed, with Hal snuggled next to her. She faced the wall and he had an arm around her. She felt his chin on the back of her head, his foot over one of her legs. Part of her knew that she had torn her bed apart, and she remembered wrestling with him as he tried to protect her from herself. He must have brought her in here when it was over, so they could both rest. He's still taking care of me. She drifted back to sleep.

When Lena woke up the second time she was still in Hal's bed and he was still with her, but this time she was snuggled against his back. She pulled her arm carefully from around his chest and untangled her legs from his. She sat up and looked at him. He looked worn, exhausted. She saw stress lines around his eyes. Only then did she begin to suspect—to remember—what had happened. Her grandfather had been there with Hal, with her, and something she absolutely would have forbidden had occurred. Anger rippled through her as she saw the fatigue in Hal's wan, quiet form.

She climbed carefully out of bed so as not to disturb him and stepped quietly to the far side of his room.

"Grandpa!" she whispered fiercely. "Grandpa, get your butt down here right now!"

Raphael appeared.

"What did you do to him?" She pointed at Hal.

"Nothing he didn't ask me to, Lovely." Raphael replied. "He wanted to help you. You should be grateful."

She shook her head furiously, struggling to keep calm. "You had no right. You don't know what it could do to him."

Raphael wasn't in the mood to argue with his stubborn, hot-tempered granddaughter. He shut her down with a blazing look. "Let me tell you what I do know. I know that he took more misery than any human could have. I know he demanded torment that would have killed another man. I know he's a vampire, but what he did for you was beyond anything I would have thought the species capable of."

"That's not the issue," she argued, although she blushed to hear Hal praised by her grandfather. "You shouldn't have put him at risk. It wasn't your place, it wasn't your business."

"Hush, woman." Hal spoke from the bed, startling them both. They turned to see him looking at them sleepily. "If you aren't going to thank me, at least be quiet so I can sleep," he added as he turned his back to them and pulled the bedspread closer around himself.

Raphael looked at Lena. "The man has a point," he said, and disappeared.

"Shit." Lena was left alone with her groggy vampire. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of his bed, her back to his. He had done the unfathomable for her; he had taken for himself some of the agony she carried; he had suffered in order to ease her pain. Nobody did that for her. Ever. She carried the pain for others—that's how it was supposed to be.

He had given her a tremendous gift, and she wasn't very good at accepting gifts. She was unused to it. She turned slightly and rested an awkward hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said gently.

"You're welcome," he mumbled. "I can't say it was a pleasure."

"I'm sure it wasn't. Why would you do that?"

"Because I could handle it. Because if anyone should feel that kind of pain, it's me, not you." He paused. "I really do need more sleep."

"Sorry. I'll leave you alone," she said, and she started to get up.

"I'd rather you didn't. You were keeping me warm."

"Scoot over then. I can stay a little while longer."

Hal moved over as she lifted the bedspread and slid into bed next to him. She put her arm around him and tucked her head against the back of his neck again. She was just about back into the position she had left when he jerked his legs away from her.

"Cold feet!"

"Sorry," she muttered. "Give me a minute." She rubbed her feet together and kicked up her internal thermostat a notch to warm herself up. She was careful to keep it set below 'flaming hair' mode.

"Mmmm, better," Hal whispered as he relaxed against her and went back to sleep.

# # #

Eventually Lena was able to leave Hal's room long enough to shower and change clothes. Alex heard movement and met Lena in her bedroom, where she was looking in consternation at a large brass bed sitting along the middle of the wall. It took up a lot of space.

"Hi," Alex said. "Tom and I cleaned up while you were sleeping. This is the only extra bed we have."

"Thank you for doing that," Lena replied. "How bad was it?"

"You and Hal tore up everything there was to tear up, I reckon." Alex was quiet for a moment. "We, Tom and I, we—" she shook her head. "For fuck's sake, don't ever do that again."

"I'll try not to."

"We made chicken soup. You want some?"

"God, yes! In Hal's room? Give me 15 minutes? I need to shower and change."

"Ha, I'll give you 20 at least. You Americans have nae clue how to take a quick shower," Alex said with a smile, and she went downstairs to warm up the soup.

Lena was curled up in Hal's chair with her third mug of chicken soup and her Kindle when he woke up.

"Something smells good, and it isn't me," he said blearily.

"Tom and Alex made us chicken soup," Lena said. "They also cleaned up the mess we made in my room."

Hal slowly sat up and stuck both pillows behind him so he could recline against the iron spindles of his headboard. "They are good friends," he said. "I'm lucky to have them."

"So am I," Lena said. "What do you need?"

He thought for a moment as he looked at her. She had showered and changed into clean clothes—he could smell her soap and shampoo. Her hair was in an uncombed ponytail that would have to be addressed at some point in time. More importantly, the weight of pain and sadness was gone from her. She returned his look with clear warmth, and a hint of worry, in her eyes. She was okay. He nodded unconsciously to himself as he spoke.

"A hot bath, clean clothes, chicken soup, and you."

"I'll go run your bath," Lena said as she set aside her Kindle.

"Can you hand me that soup before you go?" Hal reached for her mug. "I need to build my strength for the long trip to the loo."

She handed him her mug with a head shake and a smile. He took the mug and caught her hand in his. "You don't owe me anything," he said. He knew what she had been thinking. He looked at her and waited until she met his look. "As far as I'm concerned, we are still far from even in the grand scheme of things, my lady."

"I will keep that in mind, my lord," she said lightly. "Do you want bubbles in your bath? Never mind, you're getting them, manly or not."

"I'm willing to accept whatever will remove this stench," Hal said. "I smell almost as bad as Tom on the morning after a full moon."

"I heard that, mate," Tom said as he stuck his head through the doorway. He came on in as Lena left, taking a sniff as he did. "That don't smell nothing like me. Glad to see you're back."

"Glad to be back," Hal said. "How long have I been gone?"

"Just over 18 hours. I reckon you was dead tired. You looked just dead, for a while," Tom said. He and Alex had checked on them regularly.

"There were times when I wished I was dead," Hal replied. "But it passed, as she said it would."

"You're crackers, Hal. I knew you were, but I didn't know you were mad, until I saw ya in there, with her and the angel-man," Tom said quietly, waving his hand in the direction of Lena's room.

"I'm not mad, Tom, I'm just mad for her," Hal said just as quietly.

"I figured it was something like that," Tom said.

As Hal finished his soup Lena came back to announce that the bath was ready. Tom walked Hal to the bathroom to make sure he got there safely, in case he was unsteady on his feet. Hal would rather have had Lena's company, but she had disappeared downstairs with the empty mug and spoon.

Hal was sunk in his huge tub of hot water with bubbles nearly up to his chin when Lena came into the bathroom with a cup of tea and another mug of soup. She sat on the toilet (the lid was kept down when not in use, per their sharing-the-bathroom agreement) and handed him the tea. When he was finished with it, she gave him the soup and he handed back the spoon. She watched him drink the rich broth and slurp the chunks of meat and noodles easily into his mouth. Hal was too tired and hungry to care about proper manners. He reminded her of the young man she had met so long ago, exhausted, half-starved, and grateful for the smallest favor she offered.

"What do you need?" she asked as she took his empty mug.

"Just some time to soak," he replied, "and you."

"I'm right here."

Hal leaned back against the curved end of the tub again and closed his eyes. "I know how it feels now," he said. "I know exactly what I have done and how horrible it was for my victims."

"I would have spared you that, especially after your childhood in the brothel."

"I know that, too." He frowned as he turned his head to look at her. "There were things I didn't tell you…"

"And you don't need to," she said simply. "I calmed your nightmares. I carried you through them."

His breath caught as he realized what she was saying. She knew his most shameful human secrets, had always known, and had loved him anyway. He closed his eyes again, his only way to hide from her. How much had she suffered on his behalf?

"I didn't think I had nightmares when I was with you. Now I understand why," he said quietly.

The room grew so still that they could hear the gentle whisper of bubbles dissipating in the bath.

She confessed to him hesitantly, "Some of the men I kill—they are for you. For the boy you were. For the child—whose soul was broken—before it could be fully formed."

He heard tears in her voice and knew he would see them in her eyes when he looked at her again. He couldn't bring himself to do that just yet. "For the monster they helped create?" he asked. "I think I would rather you kill me than allow me to become that creature again."

"I can't kill you, Hal."

"Actually, I believe that you can." He opened his eyes finally, and looked at her with a depth of understanding that startled her. "You can because you don't hate me any longer. You can because you don't want me dead. Killing me would no longer put your soul at risk."

Lena nodded. "You are correct. Killing you would no longer put my soul at risk. Nonetheless, I cannot, I will not kill you."

A profound truth filled the room. She no longer protected the world from him; she only protected him, from the world and from himself.

"Why didn't you tell me you were illiterate? It would have made no difference to me," Lena said evenly.

He thought for a moment before answering, unsure how to explain. She required honesty from him, and honesty required him to expose himself to scrutiny that he preferred to avoid. Hal got quickly uncomfortable when he looked too deeply into himself, and he didn't want anyone else to look too deeply either. Sometimes he was relieved that he no longer had a soul for her to read.

"You were too generous," he said at last. "You gave me so much and I knew that I deserved none of it. You asked if I could read and write and I said, 'not in this language.' I should have added 'or in any other' but my pride wouldn't allow it. I didn't want you to know how much I truly did not deserve the position you gave me."

"So you lied. But what about later? You told me worse things about yourself. Why not that?"

"Because I had lied, and I didn't want you to know that I had lied. My pride again."

"Your pride is as much at fault in this mess as Andrzej's is," she said wearily. "Men and their pride. How much damage have they done to the world?"

"You weren't truthful with me either, my lady," Hal reminded her. "I don't remember seeing your wings or weapons on display once during our time together."

"I told you that I was stronger than death. I told you that I wasn't the gentlewoman that you believed me to be. I told you that I was not like anyone else on earth."

"Yes, and I believed what you said. But it wasn't the whole truth, was it?" Hal stirred in his bath. The water was cooling. He needed to add more hot water or get out soon.

"It was in my letter, the one you burned. I remember." She closed her eyes and recalled the memory:

My dearest Henry,

I have only a minute—I have been called away—People are dying, and I must stop it. Henry, I have gifts that I cannot explain. I am not fully human, but am a remnant of an ancient time, when gods and men lived more closely together. I will tell you all when I return. Do not think me mad, or if you must—then believe that without you I will become madder still. Wait for me, trust me. I love you. Please, I beg you, wait for me.

"How many times did I recite that to myself while I was gone, hoping against hope that I had not scared you away? And after my return, how many times did I recall it, to question every word and wonder what I had said to make you turn against me so completely?"

A tear slid down her cheek as Lena continued speaking. "If I had known you could not read I would have flown to you, revealed myself to you, begged you to believe me, to wait for me."

Hal was shaken to his core by what she had told him. "You said people were dying. You couldn't wait. You couldn't have gone looking for me," he said, hoping to somehow minimize the damage he had done.

"People are always dying. More could have died. You were more important." Lena shook her head. "I was ready to trust you with the greatest secret of my existence, and you couldn't trust me with that one small thing. People trust others to the extent that they believe themselves to be trustworthy. What does that say about you, Hal? How much should I trust you?"

"I'm not that boy anymore," he said quietly.

"No, you are not, and I'm not that lovestruck girl anymore either. I'm not sure what we are." She got up. 'I'll get you some clean clothes."

As the door shut behind Lena, Hal heaved himself up out of the bath and stood to let the dying bubbles slide down his body and back into the cooling water. He opened the tub drain, closed the shower doors, and started the shower so he could scrub and rinse.

Finally, after centuries of wondering, he had the whole story of what had happened to end his love affair with Nastusia. He saw it now. His simple little lie had ruined it all.

When Hal turned off the shower he heard Lena singing, slightly off-key. It sounded like she was in the room with him. It sounded like she was singing "It's Not Easy Being Green." Her version was barely better than Kermit the Frog's. He slid open a shower door and reached for a towel. His clean clothes were on the toilet lid. His Lena was leaning against the sink, singing to herself and combing her hair. She didn't look at him or avoid looking at him. She continued to sing and comb her hair. This was new.

"Have you ever heard of a do-over?" she asked.

"A what-over?" Hal stayed in the tub to dry off, using the marbled glass shower surround to screen himself from her view. He wasn't going to risk chasing her off by stepping out naked just yet.

"A do-over. You know, when kids are playing a game, and somebody messes up or they don't like the way it is going. They call a do-over. You get to replay the move, or start the game again. As if it hadn't happened. No penalty. Just a do-over."

Hal was dry and had no reason to stand in the tub any longer. He stepped out and began dressing. Lena continued with her own business, letting her hair act as a partial screen through which she could admire his perfect body and unruly hair. Her lady parts went wobbly and her nipples rose in a respectful salute as she watched him move. What I wouldn't give to fuck him until we were both cross-eyed, she thought.

"I think I understand the concept," Hal said as he put on his boxers and reached for his jeans.

"I want a do-over," Lena said. "Dammit!" She had caught a snarl of hair in her comb.

"Give me that," Hal said as he pulled up his jeans. He took the comb and she turned, obliging him without words, as he pulled the mass of hair to the back of her head. He patiently worked through the snarl. "You have no business with this much hair," he said. It was an old complaint, one he'd made frequently as he tutted and fussed over her centuries ago. She'd offered to let him cut off her long blonde braid, but he had always declined, horrified at the thought.

She had a different response, now that he knew the truth about her. "Angel genetics," she said. "You get either hideous monstrosity or glorious hair. Sadly, I got the hair." She grinned as she watched the vanity mirror that hid his reflection. Instead of Hal she saw a pale pink shadow combing her hair, but she knew that he could see her. Hal stopped moving as he watched her mischievous smile in the mirror. She was breathtaking, and the sumptuousness of her hair in his hands only amplified the effect she had on him.

"Back to your do-over," Hal reminded her, and himself, as he continued working through her hair.

"I want a do-over of us," she said. "I feel like our history is a dead whale that I keep dragging around with me and I'm tired of it, Hal. I want to put it down and start over."

"How do you suggest we do that?"

"Hi, I'm an ancient creature with mad fighting skills and no tact. People call me Lena." She held out her right hand, reaching around her side toward Hal.

He stuck the comb in her hair and shook her hand. "Hello. I'm a 500-year-old vampire with impeccable taste and a fondness for blood. People call me Hal."

"Pleased to meet you, Hal."

He resumed combing her hair. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lena. Do you generally lurk in bathrooms where men are showering?"

"Only if they are really attractive," she replied. "So, about this fondness for blood. How serious is it?"

"It is the greatest challenge I face," Hal replied simply. "It prevents me from getting too close to people, out of fear that I will hurt or kill them."

"Am I at risk from your fondness for blood?"

Lena was testing him, waiting to see if he would answer her truthfully. So much for a do-over, Hal thought. "You are in the sense that I want your blood, but we both know that I am at greater risk than you because of it," he replied.

"So, we have to have a do-over with current knowledge grandfathered in," she said.

"Apparently so."

"This could get tricky."

"Indeed. Braid?"

"Please. So can we do-over the 'we had a thing and it fell apart' stuff? " she asked.

Hal began braiding her hair. "Possibly. When did you learn you were carrying our child?" He watched her face in the mirror as he spoke. This was an important point for Hal. If Lena had known while they were together and had kept it from him, he would have to question how much he could trust her.

She answered without hesitation. "About a month after you left. Or I left. A month later. I just, I can't explain it but I just, knew, one day." The warm light in her eyes and smile on her face gave Hal the hope that she had been happy with the knowledge.

"Hair band?"

"Here." She took a hair band off her wrist and handed it over her shoulder to him.

"All done," Hal said as he handed her the comb. He fastened his jeans and put on his shirt. She had his comb in her hand when he was finished.

"Socks and shoes?" he asked as he sat on the toilet lid and let her comb his hair.

"Sorry, I didn't think about that," she said. They walked to Hal's room together, where she waited while he put on socks and shoes. "So, can we do-over the 'we-had-a-thing' and stuff?" she asked again.

"Yes," Hal said, "if we can also do-over the 'you are my prisoner until the end of your life' bit. I'm not particularly fond of that aspect of our relationship."

"Agreed. You hungry?"

"Starving." They headed downstairs to find some food. It smelled like Tom was cooking bacon sarnies. Maybe he could fix one or two or ten extra.

Tom was happy to cook extra bacon, and Alex set out everything else she could find that they might want to eat, so Lena and Hal ended up with a table full of food to work through. Tom helped them as best he could. They continued to negotiate terms for their new relationship as they ate, and Alex and Tom just listened. They had learned not to get in the middle of Hal and Lena business, no matter how crazy it sounded.

"I want a do-over on the 'you killed my family and I hate you forever' thing," Lena said.

"But I did kill your family," Hal reminded her.

"And we did have a thing and it fell apart. If we can call a do-over on that, we can call one on this. So, I call do-over on the 'killed my family' thing too."

"I'm not sure that's possible," Hal said sadly. "I don't know if I can set it aside."

"Well, you have to, because I call do-over," Lena said firmly. Hal briefly wondered what she had been like as a child. He suspected that he was seeing a glimpse of her as a contrary 10-year-old.

He responded by admitting what he had learned from Raphael. "Your grandfather said that he and your father dragged you away from me in chains and buried you in a cave for nearly 100 years. How can you call a do-over on something that upset you that much?"

"He told you that? Damn, my grandfather needs to learn to mind his own business." Lena raised her voice at the end of the sentence and Hal assumed it was to make sure that Raphael heard it. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to the idea of her immortal family monitoring their every move.

"Look, Hal, here's the thing. I've spent enough of my life dealing with our history. I don't hate you. I don't want to kill you. I call a do-over. Got it?" Lena was pointing at him with a breadstick. He leaned over and bit off the end.

"Got it. Keep your food to yourself, unless you are offering to share," he said as a way to deflect attention from his churning emotions. "I do feel as though I have a debt to pay in regards to your imprisonment," he added.

"You could teach me the minuet," she said. "I spent the second half of the 1600's in Asia and the 1700's in a cave. Never learned it."

"I can't imagine you'd enjoy it," he said. "It is very formally structured and controlled. But if you like, I can teach it to you."

"Good. And I can teach you to tango," Lena said.

"I know how to tango."

"Re-ally." Lena drew out the word, giving Hal a sultry look as she did. He felt himself getting warm.

Christ, she has me blushing! he thought. "Yes, really," he said. "I can also rumba." He returned her look and added an eyebrow flick.

Lena turned pink. "Re-al-ly," she drew out the word even longer this time. "In that case, dancing together is most definitely NOT going to be part of the do-over."

Tom had seen Strictly Come Dancing so he knew a little bit about the dances they were discussing. He felt himself turning pink, so he got up and quickly began clearing away the leftovers. Alex joined him, also relieved to get away from the table.

"I wish they'd just shag and get it over with," Alex said as she and Tom worked in the kitchen.

"I think they're trying to find a way to not kill each other first, Alex," Tom said.

"Yeah, well, they're taking long enough, and we have to put up with 'em acting like mad people and circling each other like bulls in a pen. Lena's not a bull, Tom. She needs to drop her pants and let him have a go."

"Alex!" Tom was shocked by her blunt statement, but secretly he agreed that Lena and Hal were taking a good long time to get to the place everybody knew they were going. Tom didn't know how right he was. Lena and Hal were searching for a way to reach each other safely because sex had already nearly destroyed them.

# # #

Hal and Lena retired to the living room sectional with their laptops after stuffing themselves like pigs at dinner, or lunch, or whatever it was. They were still out of sync with the normal household routine after the past few days. The Internet was full of the women's uprising, which was fine, but Lena didn't need any reminders of the death and misery at the heart of it, so she avoided everything except her business email. It kept her busy enough.

She'd already let Ammon know that she was well and that Hal had helped her deal with the fallout of her effort to heal so many people at once. It had been the first message she sent, while Hal was still sleeping.

Fortunately it wasn't difficult to find a replacement for Andrzej; she'd placed a person she trusted into the position of his assistant several years ago, so it was just a matter of a promotion. Andrzej was officially missing, presumed dead after a fall through his apartment window. It was assumed that he was the victim of an attack by the many females he had offended through the years. His death would be lumped in with other unexplained deaths that had happened, and were still happening, around the world.

Tom wanted to watch television but avoid the news channels, so he found a comedy movie instead. He was uncomfortable with the idea that Lena had caused so much destruction and decided that he didn't want to know the details of Hal and Lena's time away.

Alex was curious, although she didn't need to know the gory details either. She asked Hal where they went, and where he got the clothes he was wearing when they returned. Hal explained that Lena had dropped him off with some of her family in Istanbul before going on her 'trek' around the world.

"My cousin Ammon looked after him," Lena said briefly as she looked up from her email. "He is Seraphin Nepos, the oldest in the world after me, and has the power to keep Hal's curse in check."

"He and his family were very good to me," Hal added. "He told me about…our son. Henry." It still felt unnatural for him to use that phrase and to hear his name attached to another person.

"That's another thing we won't be calling a do-over on," Lena said. "Henry was one of the best things in my life, and considering how much life I've had, that's saying a lot. Of all the things I've been and seen and done, having my children has been the best part of my existence."

"You didn't regret—being with child? Alone?" Hal asked carefully. He wasn't sure how to broach the subject without getting into their do-over territory.

"Not for a second," Lena said. "I didn't regret having him, I was just sorry that you weren't there with me."

"Too bad vampires are dead," Alex said. "You two could try for another one."

Tom and Hal both gave Alex the 'you've gone too far' look, but she just shrugged. "Well, you could."

"Hal don't do good wi' babies. Eve tied him in knots just lookin' at him," Tom said.

"It wasn't that bad. I adjusted. Really, Tom, I wasn't that bad." Hal protested too much and his housemates could tell.

"Right, mate," Tom said with a smile.

"Moot point now, anyway," Lena said. "I'm a few centuries too old for children myself. Don't have the patience for them any longer."

Hal didn't believe her, but he appreciated Lena's attempt to move the focus off of his own status as a dead man with no child care skills. That hadn't been an issue until he came to Honolulu Heights, so he could hardly be faulted for his lack of a pulse or his limited exposure to children. He turned off his laptop.

"I hate to bring this sparkling evening to a close, but I am tired. Apparently it takes me a while to recuperate from—" he frowned as he sought a way to define what he had been through.

"Serving as a conduit for the anguish of hundreds of people?" Lena suggested. "I don't know which is worse, the physical pain or the emotional trauma."

"I was unaware of the emotional element until it was given to me," Hal said. "It was devastating."

"Oh. Hal." Lena spoke softly, sadly, as she rested a hand on his thigh. "Grandpa didn't tell you?"

"I'm not sure he is completely aware of what the experience involves," Hal said as he covered her hand with his own. Her touch was still his greatest comfort and stabilizer.

"What do you mean, emotional trauma?" Alex asked.

"When I heal, I often take away the emotional damage as well as the physical pain. When you were killed, Alex, which was worse, your physical pain or your fear?" Lena asked.

"Fear? Try terror!" Alex said. She turned to Hal. "Jesus, you felt that? For all those people? Nae wonder you tore up the mattress and bent the bed frame.

Lena frowned, trying to remember more of the details of their shared experience. She shook her head as she looked at Hal. "You really did that? I can't remember much that happened, to tell you the truth, but damn! No wonder you're tired. I'm ready to go upstairs too." Lena got to her feet along with Hal.

She looked at Alex and Tom as they sat together on the sofa, their usual spot. "Thank you both, for everything. You are good friends and I appreciate what you have done to take care of us since we got home."

After Lena and Hal had gone upstairs Alex heaved a huge sigh of relief. "I'm glad they're home but it was nice and quiet without all of the drama," she said.

"It was too quiet, Alex," Tom replied. "I like having my family around."

"I know, Tom. One of these days you'll have a real family of your own," Alex said kindly. "You'll see."

"Maybe. I'm happy with just us, for now," Tom said. "I reckon we better stay downstairs for a while, eh? Hal and Lena have something to work out between 'em."

"What d'you mean?"

"Hal got a look at that big bed in Lena's room," Tom said. "He plans to be sharing it wi' her."

"Did he say that?"

"No, but didn't you see the look on his face just now?" Tom asked. "Hal isn't sleeping alone tonight, I'll bet you a tenner on it."

"There's nae way Lena's gonna let him do anything she doesn't want. I'll take that bet, Tom. Hal's gonna get his butt tossed right out of her room," Alex said. "You don't have a tenner on you anyway. How are you gonna bet me?"

"I'm good for it," Tom replied. "You know that."

They shook hands on it, quickly moved away from thoughts of Hal and Lena, and refocused on themselves and each other as they had done while their housemates were gone. For this evening, all Tom wanted was popcorn and a comedy on the television, and the knowledge that his family was home and safe. And maybe the chance for a little more kissing practice with Alex. He would be sure not to complain about it this time.