"Super Sleuth." She read, turning the box around to examine it further. "What does that mean? Is this some sort of advanced edition or something?"

Niles smiled. "I wanted to challenge him."

"You wanted your father to sit down and keep his mouth shut."

When he laughed he saw her grin. She knew him far too well.

"I'm right, aren't I, Dr. Crane?"

He grinned as well, but said nothing. He didn't have to.

"So what do you have for your brother?"

"This." He reached for a blue leather book with gold lettering and held it up for her to see. "Orson Wells; The Road to Xanadu, by Simon Callow. Long… brilliant, witty. But very, very long."

She smiled and then looked at the box again. "This puzzle is only eight hundred pieces!" She sounded disappointed and again he grinned.

"Well, I didn't want Dad to stay here forever."

She laughed once more and then returned her attention to the puzzle box. "Well, this looks like fun. Shall we?"

Before he even had a chance to answer, she was pouring the contents of the box onto the coffee table. His conscience told him to protest, but his heart fought back and he began to turn the puzzle pieces from their dull gray "wrong" side to their colorful "right side".

For several minutes they sat contentedly and quietly turning over the puzzle pieces. Suddenly he stopped and picked up the booklet that accompanied it. "His Last Term As Governor." He read. "It was an early morning at the Governor's mansion…."

As he continued to read, he felt her eyes on him. She had ceased turning over the puzzle pieces and was leaning against the back of the sofa, watching him intently. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand; the details of the mystery. But it was nearly impossible not to gaze at her lean, curvy body, sensuous even in her thick green and yellow sweater. When her expression changed, it took him several seconds before he realized that he had reached the end of the Introduction and that he was still holding the booklet in his hand.

"I love it when you read to me."

His mouth fell open in disbelief. Had she asked him to paraphrase what he'd just finished reading, he would have been able to do it. The words on the booklet were gone from his mind now; vanished, replaced with this compliment that he couldn't even comprehend the meaning of.

Suddenly he couldn't breathe; couldn't even think. He couldn't move, couldn't…. He just sat there, staring at her. He had no idea where he was or what had just happened.

He was just… there. He saw her mouth moving. She was speaking to him.

"…Crane?"

Her words, whatever she was saying, were faint. He tried to focus on her lips; those beautiful lips, the ones he wanted to kiss so badly….

"Dr. Crane?"

His name. She was saying his name. Or at least he thought she was.

"Dr. Crane!"

The words, the ones that formed his name, were clearer now, but he didn't have the strength to respond. And it was then that he noticed that she was gone. Perhaps that moment, or even all of the ones that lead up to this one, was but a dream.

She was back again, holding something against his mouth. As he heard the familiar crinkling sound, he realized what she'd done. He hadn't used the paper bag method in years but it seemed to work wonders, despite her close presence. She was so close that he could feel the outline of her body pressed against his. She was leaning into him, stroking his chest with slow, circular motions. Her other hand, he realized, was in his hair. Her fingertips moved slowly across his scalp, causing his breath to slow. But she took notice and immediately adjusted the bag against his mouth. The strokes of her hand against his chest increased and when the crinkling sound of the bag inflating and deflating came yet again, she slowly removed the bag from his lips and smiled. "There now, feeling better?"

He tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. Her hand was still on his chest, the other on his knee. He tried to speak again. "I-."

"Perhaps I should get you into bed."

Dear God…

If he had trouble breathing before, it was nothing compared to this time. And yet there was no paper bag to save him. He had to do this on his own.