As Sunday followed Sunday, and casual tea or a casual walk followed their initial casual lunch, Allison Larkin came to realize that she wasn't going to get more from Tom McNair than a kiss or two at a time. She would get his attention and his affection; she would get some serious questions about her future and what she saw as her place in the world; she would get into discussions about goals and ambitions and what it meant to be a success. She would not get a commitment from Tom that went past the next Sunday, and even those commitments were set aside from time to time when a business or family crisis kept him away. Allison was clearly not at the top of Tom's list of priorities, and she didn't like the way that made her feel.

Allison did her best to coerce Tom to get closer. She was diligent in her study of body language and subliminal messaging, and she followed her studies to the letter. She leaned in, she smiled, she touched him, she presented an open and welcoming posture at all times. She paid attention to her appearance and tested a variety of fragrances that she thought he might find alluring. Nothing worked, not even when Sunday was just a day before the full moon and the wolf was near the peak of its power.

Allison felt the primal pull of the wolf and was ready to jump on Tom at the first opportunity. Tom, also very much aware of the wolf's influence, made sure that no such opportunity presented itself. In a last-ditch effort to influence him Allison threw everything she had into their goodbye kiss, even to the point of grinding herself against him shamelessly. She also managed to get a firm grip on his backside, which she'd been itching to do. She could tell that it worked, and was quite pleased by the extent of his response. She was not pleased when Tom pulled away from her, quickly got in his car and drove off. Allison was stymied.

She should have known how it would end when Tom refused to consider moving out of Honolulu Heights. He was correct when he told his housemates that Allison would try to win him to her way of thinking. She prepared to debate him on the merits of moving to Bristol, and she prepared to win that debate. It is impossible to win a debate without an opponent, however, and Tom refused to participate. At first he told her that the subject wasn't open for debate. After giving her several reminders, Tom simply stopped responding altogether and waited quietly until she changed the subject.

Eventually Allison had to face the truth about their relationship, and she challenged Tom to face it with her. They were walking and sipping takeaway teas, and conversation had dribbled to a halt.

"What's wrong with me, Tom?" Allison heard her wounded heart in the tone of her voice. She nearly let a sob escape but held herself together. She was too strong to play the poor abandoned female.

"Nothing's wrong wi' ya. You're perfect as ever," Tom replied quickly.

"I'm just not perfect for you?"

"I don't know if there's such thing as perfect for me, Allison. I don't know if there ever will be. Maybe someday, when I'm ready for it, and you're ready for it, we can be good together. But not now. Not yet."

"Would you say that if you didn't have Alex?" Allison spoke sharply, almost harshly. It was the first time she had acknowledged the ghost's place in Tom's life. There were several quiet moments as Tom thought about her question.

"I don't know, I can't say for sure." he said at last. "I think I'd feel the same about us, that we aren't ready to be a couple yet."

"I'm ready. I love you, Tom. I need you." Allison knew she was in the debate of her life, and she wasn't going to pull any punches.

"You don't need me, Allison. You want me, like ya want another trophy or medal. I can tell the difference," Tom said. "I'm not a prize, I'm a man."

"And I'm a woman. More woman than she is."

Tom was suddenly as cold as iron in winter. "Talking bad about Alex won't do. You need to stop it right now."

"She's a ghost," Allison said quietly. "She can't be a real woman for you, Tom. I can."

"Alex is a ghost, but she's real to me, more real than you are in most ways. She cares for me. She watches out for me. She thinks of me instead of herself. Allison, she's helped me get ready for every date we've had. She don't let on, but I know it bothers her when I come to see ya. She does it anyway, without me askin'."

"She wants what's best for you. She knows that's me. That's why she does it."

"She believes that I would be better off with you. That don't—doesn't mean she's right."

"You're choosing her over me." It was a bold statement, but Allison hoped that he would hear it and recognize the absurdity of such a decision. She wasn't expecting his response.

"I'm choosin' what's best for me," Tom said. "I like spendin' time wi' ya, and I love ya, I do. But when we're together all I hear from you is what you want for us or for yourself. You don't talk about what you want for me. It's like you can't see me unless I'm stuck to ya."

His voice was mild enough, with little sense of accusation. He stated the truth as he saw it, and Allison realized that he was right. She had ignored Tom when she thought nobody else wanted him. She'd pursued him like a prize when she learned that she had competition. She'd tried to bind him to her by encouraging him to see his future tied firmly to her own. But she hadn't considered what was best for him as an individual.

Tom's words forced Allison to look at herself honestly. She saw that she wasn't ready to be in a relationship, with Tom or anyone else, because she wasn't ready to compromise her own interests. She wasn't willing to negotiate or postpone her own goals in order to commit to another person. She was only ready to have another person sacrifice his goals in order to be with her.

She nodded thoughtfully. "Tom, you have displayed some excellent debate skills. You've presented valid points that I am unable to refute. I must, therefore, concede."

"What do ya mean by that?"

"I mean that I concede the debate and agree with your statement that we are not ready to be in a relationship. We each want different things for ourselves and aren't ready to compromise those things in order to be together. Clearly we aren't ready to move ahead beyond our current friendship." Allison paused for a moment. "In fact, I propose that we take a step back from this level of companionship to a more casual one. No more dates. No more attempts at closeness we aren't comfortable with. I don't want to lose you, Tom. Friendship is important, and to be valued."

"Okay." They walked a few steps. "I still don't know what ya mean, Allison."

"Of course you do." There was a chuckle in her voice as she nudged him gently as if to push his thoughts into order. "We're friends. We don't have to see each other every Sunday, and we don't have to kiss every time we see each other. We keep in touch, we call and talk. We get together for a movie or something."

As Allison spoke she felt herself relax. A pressure she didn't know she was feeling began to ease up and she smiled, genuinely smiled, with no motive other than her own pleasure, for the first time in weeks. Now that the debate was over, she could just enjoy Tom's company.

"I'd like that," Tom said. "Friends are valuable, I agree wi' ya. You know if you ever need me, you just have to call."

"Likewise. We werewolves have to stick together." The enthusiasm in Allison's voice told Tom that she was okay. She sounded like the Allison he knew, the one he wanted to have in his life, as a friend for now at least.

They said goodbye with a hug. No plans were made for the following weekend. Tom emailed her when a traveling exhibit was coming to the museum that he thought she would enjoy. Allison called him when she wanted to see a movie that she thought he'd enjoy. They both learned that life was more fun without forced romance, and plans for the future didn't have to be the focus for their times together.

# # #

Alex asked about Tom's date, as always. She knew that it was a kind of self-torture to listen to him talk about Allison, but she told herself that she was just building up her defenses. She was preparing herself for the time when Tom would leave her for a real life with a real partner. Alex believed that Allison would eventually take her place in Tom's life and in his bed. Her belief had kept her from pushing ahead with her plan to shag Tom. In spite of what she had said to Allison, she didn't want to spoil the experience for him.

Alex respected Tom's old-fashioned notions about sex; it was charming and made her regret her own easy attitude toward it. After all, if she hadn't been so intent on shagging Hal she'd still be alive now. Alex kept herself in check, out of consideration for Tom and fear that she wouldn't be able to follow through on activities once started. She let Tom decide what should happen when she joined him at night, and as Tom wasn't entirely sure what was supposed to happen, she ended up enjoying a lot of cuddle time and some lovely kisses.

Tom could take off her boots and jacket and they would stay off as long she stayed with him, for which she was thankful. She could rest against him and feel his warmth, and the comfort and security of his presence. Alex could sleep, in the sense that her mind stopped spinning and she lost awareness of her surroundings. She had no fear of drifting into nothing and falling apart because Tom anchored her to him.

"So, how was it?" she asked. They were in his room, talking before bed. "What'd you do? More importantly, what'd you eat and how good was it? Don't hold back on the details." She would start with the less painful subjects and move on to the gut-wrenching area of kisses and plans for the future.

"We broke up," Tom said quietly.

Alex was speechless, giddy with joy and worried about Tom at the same time.

Tom continued, "I told Allison she was pushin' too hard for something we're not ready for. That she was thinkin' of herself and of us as a couple, but not thinkin' of me. I need to do what's right for me now, and she needs to do what's best for her. So we broke up."

Tom looked at Alex, but she was still stunned and silent.

"We're friends, for now," he said. "No more dates and aught, just friends. Call and email, go out maybe. I don't want no more than that."

"Any more," Alex corrected him out of habit.

Tom smiled. "Allison agreed, Alex. She said I won her 'round to my way of thinkin' and she conceded the debate."

"That's—that's great, Tom."

"Yeah, it is. 'Cause now I won't feel guilty about Allison when I take off your dress."

Alex was once again speechless. She just stared at him as he walked toward her with a smile. Tom pulled her into a hug and kiss, and by the time he finally released her Alex had found her voice.

"Sod the dress, it's this bra that needs to go!" She unconsciously pulled at the underwire that forever dug in the wrong spot.

Tom smiled. "Slow down, 'Lex, I have to get to it first," he said as he unzipped her jacket and pulled it off her shoulders. He had plenty of practice with the move—Alex had trained him in the proper way to help a lady out of her coat. Tom studied her dress. "Where does it fasten? I see nowt for buttons. It's the bow, right?" He tugged at the bow on her dress, but it didn't give.

"You can just pull it over my head," Alex said, slightly breathless at the thought.

"That's a challenge, ain't it, with you bein' taller than me. Help me wi' it, will ya?" Tom took the hem of her dress and pulled it up to reveal her hips, then the top of her tights. He kept going and Alex leaned over, arms extended, so he could remove the dress without stretched onto his toes. Tom backed away a couple of steps as he went and ended up with an inside-out dress and a ghost wearing tights and a camisole. He took a minute to admire her long lines and curves, now that the dress was out of the way and he could see her shape clearly.

Alex loved watching him watch her. His smile, the glow in his eyes, the arch of his eyebrows, all spoke to her; not of lust, but of joy. Joy at what she could do, at what they could accomplish together. Then Tom reached for her camisole and an uncomfortable thought flashed through her mind. There's nothing under there. Her dress reappeared in place.

Tom chuckled. "I was waitin' for that." He pulled off her dress again and waited, quietly, with it in his hand. After a minute he reached for her and the dress disappeared from his hand and reappeared on Alex.

"I'm sorry," she said simply.

Tom nodded. "I reckon we'll stop wi' just the dress for now. Makes ya nervous to try anything else."

"I'm scared, Tom. What happens when you lift my camisole and there's nothing under it?"

"You're there, Alex. You're always there, I know it. We just need to wait 'til you know it, too." Tom began to take off his clothes for bed. He slept in his pants now and made no attempt to hide from her.

Alex saw his erection and sighed. "You're very patient with me."

He looked down at himself, then at her. "I'm not an animal. I can wait 'til you're ready."

Alex's heart leaped and tightened in her chest and tears sprung to her eyes. None of the blokes she knew when she was alive had said that to her. Based on their behavior, the thought hadn't occurred to any of them. She felt Tom healing parts of her that she hadn't realized were damaged. He was just so much more, in every good way, than any man she'd known, excepting Dad. Tom was possibly stronger in some ways than her dad, and certainly just as good. He's the one her dad had told her to wait for while she ran from fellow to fellow and party to party. And when she was alive she wouldn't have spared Tom a second look.

Alex was just sorry that she had to die before she could see how she should have been living. Maybe, with Tom, she could have just a little piece of a second chance.

"Take off the dress. I'll see if I can keep it off for a while tonight," she said as she kicked off her boots.

Tom did as she asked and they got into bed. He didn't reach for her. He let her come to him, and when she was ready, Alex nudged his arm so he would move it out of the way. She laid her head on his shoulder. Tom didn't move to hug her and she didn't ask. Slowly, slowly they were finding their way.

# # #

It was a week or so later that Tom decided he needed advice on wooing. Alex was able to keep her dress off until he tried to touch her or looked at her with the intent to touch her. Then it reappeared, like green silk armor, to keep him from reaching her skin. It was crackers for her to think that she could have skin on her arms and neck and face but not have it anywhere else. It made no sense.

Tom figured that Hal was a master at getting his hands under women's clothes, since he was so good at getting women out their clothes and that was the first step. Of course, Tom was taking Hal's word for most of what he thought about Hal and women, because he hadn't seen much of it himself. Alex had fallen for Hal quickly enough, and plenty of ladies flirted with him when he and Tom worked together, but Hal had tried to stay away from the ladies. If Tom was honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he pushed Hal toward Alex when he should have listened to his best mate and helped him avoid her instead. Better not to dwell on that.

Tom worked his way through the mess of ideas in his mind and decided to be a man about it and just ask his mate for advice. He found Hal in Lena's room, which was now their room most of the time. Hal and Lena were arguing about some book that Tom had never heard of, but they were both smiling so he figured it was a friendly argument. More of a 'what kind of biscuits do we have with tea' argument than a 'you're a jackass, now get the hell away from me' argument, so Tom thought it was safe to interrupt.

He knocked on the open door to get their attention. "Could I have a word wi' ya?" he asked Hal.

"Certainly," Hal replied immediately. When Tom made no move to enter their room, Hal asked, "Is this a private word?"

"If ya don't mind." Tom wasn't exactly fidgeting but he did look slightly uncomfortable. He didn't think it was proper to ask Hal about his skills with women while they were in the company of Hal's girlfriend.

Hal and Lena exchanged a questioning look and Hal nodded. "Let's go to my room."

Once they were alone Tom got right to it. "I can take off Alex's dress."

"Good to know." Hal did his best to maintain a calm exterior, although he was chuckling to himself.

"I can't get past that. She keeps puttin' it back on."

"Is that her preference?"

Tom sank into the chair as he spoke. "Nah, she's scared that there won't be anything under her clothes. I need to know how to get my hand on her without her noticing so I can prove she's really there."

"Hmm, I can understand her concern, and yours. I don't know how physically close you two are becoming…" Hal left the sentence unfinished in the hope that Tom would do the honors. He did.

"We sleep together. We kiss and hold each other. That's it. Alex takes off her jacket and boots—she's been doin' that for a bit. I take off her dress. That's just started."

"Are you able to kiss her after you remove her dress?"

"Some, but if I get too forward the dress comes back."

Hal thought for a minute. He had examined Alex very carefully on more than one occasion with the purpose of accomplishing what Tom hoped to accomplish now. The dress certainly allowed for access, if a gentleman knew how to achieve it. Tom just needed a lesson in subtlety and the art of distraction.

Hal sat on his bed, facing his best mate. "I believe I understand what you are asking. Let us begin the tutorial. First of all, I'd like to point out that you can enjoy very substantial caresses before removing Alex's dress…"

That night Tom had his fingers on Alex's bare breast before she even realized it was happening. She was too busy being driven mad by his hands caressing her through her clothes as he kissed her deeply and rubbed his erection suggestively against her hip. When she felt his fingertips slip over her nipple and felt her immediate response to his touch, her dress disappeared. Alex had no idea where it went and she didn't care. She just wanted Tom's hands on her.

He obliged by reaching further into her bra and cupping her breast as Hal had described. Tom gently brushed her nipple into a hard point as he kissed along the top of her camisole. He pulled the fabric down and pushed the firm, tender flesh up until he could kiss the curve of her breast. He realized that Alex had her hands on his head and was encouraging him to continue, so he did. Tom moved his attention to her other breast and fondled and kissed it as well.

Tom felt Alex arch her chest toward him and he heard her soft whispers of pleasure, so he knew she was feeling what he was doing. Tom was feeling it too, and became acutely aware that he was rubbing himself against Alex's leg like a dog after a female in heat. He pulled away, embarrassed.

"Excuse me, 'Lex," he mumbled, and he quickly left the room.

Alex knew what he was doing. He was going to the bathroom to do for himself what she couldn't do for him. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. But maybe, this time, there was something she could do. Alex grabbed the bottom of her camisole and tugged. It didn't budge. She tugged harder. It didn't budge.

"Shite! Okay girl, you have a boyfriend who wants to touch you and you know you want him to. Now take off this bloody cami and give him a chance!" Alex's pep talk worked. When Tom returned from the bathroom she was reclining on the bed in her tights and the empirically sexy bra of doom. He froze in the doorway and stared. The smile that erupted across his face more than made up for Alex's struggle while he had been gone.

"Ya did it! Alex, ya did it!" He moved carefully toward her as if she were a doe in the woods that he didn't want to startle.

"I did," Alex said. "Now you're going to come here so I can show you how to take off this bra."

# # #

Hal was sitting in bed reading when Lena came in. He wore one of several pair of pyjamas that he had ordered online and that he intended to burn as soon as they were no longer necessary. He wasn't ready to trust himself to sleep skin-to-skin with her yet, but he knew the day was coming. He could feel it.

Lena plopped onto her stomach on the bed next to him and casually pulled his penis out from his pants and started to suck on it.

Hal jumped and slammed his book shut. "What are you doing? I'm not even—never mind," he said as he felt his cock expanding and lengthening rapidly under her touch. "Good evening to you, too," he added humorously as she glanced up at him with a mischievous look. He set aside his book and raised himself up slightly on the bed so they could work together to slide his pyjama bottoms out of the way.

Lena stretched out with her feet in the air and her upper body propped up on an elbow as she enjoyed Hal's now-erect penis. She was crossways on the bed, which meant that Hal could almost reach her curvaceous rear end. He decided that he'd like to have a squeeze or two of her fabulous ass while she was occupied with his cock, so he grabbed the waistband of her pyjamas and pulled her lower half closer to him.

He now had her close enough, but the angle was all wrong for him to comfortably get a hand down her pants. They would have to go. He pulled her pyjama bottoms and pink cotton underpants down enough to expose the territory he was interested in reaching. Hal realized that he had just maneuvered her lady parts much closer to his fangy parts than he had previously dared.

He gave himself a minute and did a fang-check. Everything seemed fine. He relaxed, closed his eyes, caressed her luscious ass, and enjoyed her mouth on his cock. Life was good.

Hal's hand wandered, as it was prone to do, into the territory of her lady parts. Lena didn't object; in fact, she rather enjoyed it. Her increasing excitement translated into extra attention to his cock, which he didn't object to either. Life was definitely good.

The scent of her arousal no longer caused him a problem, but he couldn't help wondering about the taste of it. It was the next barrier to cross, and Hal decided that he was ready to start knocking that barrier down. He quietly removed his hand from her lady parts and brought it to his face. He sniffed her scent on his fingers. He felt a little quiver in his belly. He took a careful lick. He felt another quiver in his belly. Apparently every part of Lena was more appealing to him than a human woman.

Hal went back to what he was doing with Lena's lady parts and tried to figure out whether the quiver in his belly was from lust or bloodlust. He honestly couldn't tell. He needed another test. He quietly removed his hand from her again and this time carefully sucked on his fingers, savoring the taste of her. The quiver in his belly got stronger.

Hal quickly lost interest in everything except his own pleasure as Lena expertly brought him to climax. She stayed where she was afterward and continued to fondle him gently. Sometimes she reminded him of a cat with a favorite toy, and he was glad she had the courtesy to keep her claws sheathed. He decided to continue pleasuring her, as was only fair.

"I can turn over if you want," she said.

"If you don't mind." It would make it easier for him to reach the parts she needed him to pay most attention to.

Lena flipped over and rested her head on his thigh. She casually draped one arm on his belly; her hand continued to fondle him. She closed her eyes and smiled as she began to rock in time to his movements on her body. Lena noticed that Hal's rhythm was irregular, with an occasional halt as he briefly left her unattended. She wondered if he was teasing her somehow, trying to prolong the foreplay before bringing her to orgasm.

She opened her eyes and caught Hal sucking on his fingers. He looked slightly guilty, as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She arched an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked.

"I'm just taking the next step," he replied as he returned to pleasuring her. "I thought it was time."

"Fine by me," she said. "There's no risk of getting any of my blood, is there? You can be 'vigorous' while attending to my needs."

"I haven't noticed a hint of your blood at any time since we've started our current course of activity," Hal said. "Apparently you are quite durable."

"Ha! Durable, like a tractor tire or a good set of cookware," Lena joked. "That's very romantic. I'm glad to hear it, though," she added quickly, before he could protest that he meant no offense. "One less thing to worry about."

She relaxed and enjoyed herself again. Hal said that she could trust him to set limits, so she would. The only problem she had was that Hal's interruptions were beginning to genuinely frustrate her. She decided to ask him to please pay attention to her exclusively and save any further taste-testing for later.

Suddenly Lena felt Hal's body stiffen under her and she opened her eyes. She jumped out of bed quickly and stared at him. His fangs had unsheathed and he had bitten himself badly; blood was beginning to show around the edges of the fingers that were clamped into his mouth. He stared back at her, horrified at what had just happened.

Lena pulled her pyjama bottoms up and took a careful breath. "I'm going to make a cup of tea for us," she said calmly. "I will be gone for a few minutes." She left Hal to deal with his bitten and bloody fingers. Removing herself from the vicinity was probably the best thing she could do for him at the moment.

By the time Lena returned with two cups of tea, plenty of milk and sugar in hers, black with a splash of water in his, Hal was back to normal. He had gone to the bathroom, washed up, and rinsed the blood out of his mouth. He had brushed his teeth as well, just to be sure. He didn't want any trace of blood to remain when Lena saw him again. He had bandaged his injured fingers. They would probably be healed by morning.

She found him in the overstuffed chair in his room. She handed him his tea and sat on his bed with hers. "So, I guess you found your limit," she said.

"Yes," he replied quietly. "I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I pushed too far, too fast," he said. "I could tell something was happening, but I hoped it was just normal lust instead of bloodlust. I should have known better."

"I think it was both," Lena said. "The curse wasn't that dark. I didn't think you were in the danger zone yet."

"It happened very quickly," Hal said. "You tasted different. You must have been close—oh, Lena, I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "No big deal. You have plenty of time to finish what you started."

Hal was badly shaken by the sudden appearance of his fangs. It was first time it had happened since they'd begun sleeping together, and it reminded him too much of other times, with other lovers, when he had failed to maintain control. The blood always wins, he thought. I'm a fool to think otherwise. He said, "I thought I would sleep in here tonight."

"Okay, but it'll be a tight squeeze," Lena said casually.

"I meant alone."

She shook her head. "That ain't happening. We're not backing away from this thing, Hal."

"I betrayed your trust," he said sadly.

"I don't see it that way. You practically bit your own fingers off to keep from it." She reached out for him. "Speaking of which, give me your hand."

"That ain't happening," Hal said. She gaped at him, then laughed out loud. He smiled in return. He was beginning to feel better.

"I'll make a deal with you," she said. "I won't try to heal you if you come back to our bed."

Hal thought about it for a minute. Once again she offered him hope as well as her trust. "I can agree to that," he said.

"I'll make another deal with you. I'll let you taste-test as much as you want as long as you do it at the beginning and after the end of playing with me. That stop-start thing drove me up the wall."

"I think that is a wise decision, and one that I can agree with."

"Good. So, um, you're ambidextrous, right?" Lena asked as she got up to go to their room.

He followed her, shaking his head. "You are the most amazing woman—and yes, in some situations, I am."

While looking for a bandage for his fingers Hal had seen a package in the bathroom cabinet that he didn't recognize. He remembered it the next day, got it out and read the label. Unscented Pantiliners. He studied the diagram on the side of the package and took one of the pantiliners out to look at it. He recognized the newfangled way to control a woman's monthly because he had seen the adverts on television. There wasn't much to the pantiliner, however, and he wasn't sure it would be very effective. More to the point, why was the package in their loo?

He heard a chuckle and turned to see Lena standing at the door. He held up the pantiliner with a puzzled look on his face.

"You don't have a monthly," he said.

"No, but thanks to you I have a bad case of P.D.P." she said.

"I assure you, I have given you no disease of any sort. It is impossible for me to contract or transmit such things." Hal was now more puzzled, and offended by her accusation.

"Relax Hal. P.D.P. isn't a disease, it's a condition. It stands for perpetually damp panties. I got tired of changing my underwear every few hours, so I bought these." Lena walked over to him with the mischievous grin that he loved. "If you weren't so damned sexy I wouldn't have that problem."

"Ah," Hal said with a smile. "I understand now. You have given me a bad case of P.H.O., which I believe is the male equivalent."

"P.H.O.?"

"Perpetual hard-on," he explained. "If you weren't so damned sexy I wouldn't have that problem. How do these things work?"

"I can drop trou if you want to have a look," Lena said as she unfastened her jeans. She paused before going further. "Tell me if this is going to be a problem for you."

"It should be fine," Hal said, "and I'd like to know what to expect the next time I put my hand down your pants."

She stepped out of her jeans and tossed them onto the toilet lid. She dropped her panties to the floor, stepped one foot out, and used the other foot to pick them up. She was going to hold them so Hal could have a look, but he took the panties off her foot and inspected them for himself.

"Hmph," he said. "Modern technology." He examined the pantiliner, sniffed it cautiously, and tested the adhesive. "It won't be too disturbing, I suppose. I've come across much worse things in a woman's pants."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not particularly." He handed back her panties and she began to redress. "Why did you get unscented?"

"I don't want my crotch to smell like a perfume bottle," Lena said as she pulled on her jeans. "Besides, with your sensitive nose there's no use trying to hide what I smell like."

"I thoroughly enjoy your smell," Hal said with the wicked grin that she loved. "In fact, I'd be upset if you tried to hide it. I did like the scent you wore on my birthday, however; it was a nice complement."

"I guess I shouldn't save it for special occasions, then," she said. "How are your fingers?"

He held them out for her. "Healed."

"Good. What do you want to do now?" she asked as she started to leave the bathroom.

"I think I'd like to spend some time with my hand down your pants." He had that grin again.

"Why'd I bother to get dressed, then?" she teased him.

"Actually, I think a long walk is in order," Hal replied. "I need to remind myself that there is a world beyond your pants, and I'm in the mood for a good cigar."

"Ooh, yes! And something fresh from the bakery?" Her eyes lit up at the idea. She could also use a long walk and a chance to refocus her energy from the intensity of their private interactions.