"YOU"
(part Two of Two)

About an hour after Emma kicked Alan out of her room, there was a knock at the front door. Still sitting on the couch, Alan rose and went to see who it was. As he opened the door, he saw Sammie’s frame on the threshold; she was playing nervously with her hands as she always did.

"Hey Sam," he said absent-mindedly.

"Uh, is Emma around? She was supposed to call me..." Sammie peeked around Alan. "And are you okay? You’re like... off."

"Yes, it’s alright," he said as he stepped aside to let her in. "Listen, Sam. I’m not sure Emma wants to see you, but before we ask, can I talk to you for a second?"

With a shrug, Sammie nodded and plopped onto the couch, watching Alan sideways, looking for a hint of what was cooking. "Sure, what about?"

"About Emmy." Giving a sigh and scratching his head, he closed the door and went to the fridge. "Ice-cream? Juice?" he offered.

"Ooh, ice-cream is good! And what about Em?"

Nodding, Alan took some chocolate and vanilla ice-cream from the freezer and brought it over to the couch, handing her the small glass bowl. "Well, there’s been a little accident, it seems. She’s okay, don’t worry, or so I think. Thing is, I’ve known about what happened this morning."

"Oh." Sammie, who had been ready to panic, now calmed down, then looked ashamed. Her face flushed red and all of a sudden her ice-cream became very interesting, as she started picking on it with the spoon.

Alan sat beside her on the couch, he too seemingly intrigued by the ice-cream bowl. "Yes, ‘oh’ is appropriate. Anyway, you should know that I specifically forbade Emma to help you cheat, today, and when she came back home she confessed it right away, and I had to spank her."

Sammie cringed. "Yikes. And it’s all my fault too..." She looked very sorry and sad for her best friend, for having put her in that position. "Poor Em, I’m so sorry."

"That’s not all," he resumed. "She was very upset. I gather she thought very low of herself for disobeying so openly. The spanking was quite intense, and after that, I gave her four smacks with the belt... which were probably too much, since she snapped and shoved me out of her room," he admitted, looking away.

Sammie cringed and shuddered, setting down the ice-cream bowl and looking straight at him. "Whoa, dude, very big mistake. Emma’s a really good actress, she hides, like a lot."

Alan rolled his eyes at the ‘dude’ part, but then frowned: "What do you mean by that, Sam?"

"Well, most of the time, Emma hides a lot of stuff. Keeps really big things to herself, you know, like the deep dark secrets kinda things. Sometimes she lets me poke around in there, but not much. She loves you uber craziness, that’s not fake, but sometimes she pretends to be happy. I cheer her up a lot, make her laugh and smile, but... well, you know."

He sighed and shook his head, wondering if what he had done might have triggered one of those dark moments. "What do you think is up with her? I don’t want you to tell me anything that’s supposed to be private between the two of you... but she suddenly turned back against me and I don’t know why. I think I need your help to understand that," he said, giving a quick ruffle to her hair.

Sammie gave a smile and cuddled up beside him, and Alan held her rather feebly. "Not to be mean, but you’re not as good to cuddle with as my dad," she pointed out. "He’s like, squishier then you. But anyways..." she paused in thought. "Em gets scared. Sometimes she thinks the worse you spank her, that means the worse she is inside. The spankings help, I know, she knows, you know, they make her feel really loved and safe. But this time I don’t think it did. She probably thought the belt was like getting beat up or something and knowing her, she’s thinking that all she ever deserves in life is to get like hurt and screwed over all the time. She never really thinks good about herself. Like never ever. Not for as long as I have known her. She’s got... well... problems."

Alan would have wanted to say something during Sammie’s speech, but he could not bring himself to speak. What he was hearing was exactly what he was fearing would happen, that Emma took spankings as a personal demeaning experience rather than a loving correction, and although he knew they were probably both, he never ever would want to demean her self-esteem in any way!

"Sam, are you... I mean... did she tell you that or is it just your own impression?... Please be honest, I can’t seem to get to Emma, and I need to know how she feels."

Again Sammie shrugged, and snuggled in closer, this time getting a warmer response from him. "She told me she loves how you love her so much, and that she doesn’t mind the spankings. But the brush really does scare her, she says it burns like uber bad and that makes her sad. Like she was extra horrible or something. But she loves you for spanking her, it’s helped her a lot, I’ve seen it." Sammie nodded. "But, she lays like these horrible guilt trips on herself, that really sucks. She like mentally kicks the crap out of herself, you know? She always feels like she’s some dumb-ass screw-up. But that really doesn’t have anything to do with the spankings. She always felt that way, though maybe today’s one hit a little too close to home, and scared her off. She probably thinks that YOU think now that she is some horrible evil teenager and that you made a mistake to have adopted her."

"Oh, but Sammie," he started, shaking his head and sitting closer to her, as though he was trying to convince her of something. "I kept repeating how I was so very proud of her for making a choice, however wrong it was, and facing the consequences for it in such an adult way... she doesn’t even listen when I talk, or what? Goddamnit!" he cursed, and beat the sofa cushion with his closed fist, which made Sammie back away a little. Growing in that family, of course Emma had such self-esteem issues, but he thought they were solved by now... apparently he was mistaken. How do I solve this mess?, he thought to himself.

"Just love her uber much," Sammie said, as though she could read his mind. "Give her time. She’ll come around. She’s just scared and all mad at herself right now. I’d be scared too. And, between you and me... she needs some help," the young girl added in a whisper.

Sighing, Alan circled Sammie’s shoulders with his arm again and kissed her head, to which she gave a soft purr. "Thank you for helping so much, you’re a sweetheart," he praised her, but then he arched his eyebrows. "But... are you saying she might be in need of professional counselling?"

Sammie nodded. "She keeps a lot of her feelings, in here," she tapped his chest. "She told me about that night on the set, when her dad slapped her in front of everyone. All that stuff you saw, that’s just a little of what she hides. She’s ashamed of it. Thinks there’s something wrong with her because she can’t deal with some stuff and tucks it away. And she won’t listen. I’ve tried to tell her, tried to tell her stupid parents too, but they told me I was an idiot and to mind my own business," she shrugged, but pouting a little.

Alan sighed again. "Yeah I know how they could be... and, well, I’m willing to try pretty much everything at the moment, though I want to see if I can get to her first, somehow, someway. Sam, do you think you could try and talk to her and tell her that I’m so sorry about how she feels but that, really, and I mean, really, she has nothing to fear and that I love her more than anyone or anything in the world?" he said, almost begging. "I’ve said that myself but she doesn’t listen."

Sammie shook her head no as though she knew best. "She doesn’t want me, she knows I love her uber much forever and ever. She wants YOU. Right now, it’s a good time. She might talk to you and be open if you try again. She’s probably in her closet asleep, she does that a lot when she’s upset. It was her way of punishing her parents. When they would yell and then not talk to her, she’d shut them out even more by being in there. Or so she’s told me, and it makes sense to me."

Alan nodded throughout her explanation, thinking that yes, it was his duty, as a father, to try and reach out for her. He was so shocked when she had reacted like that that he didn’t know what to do or how to behave, but somehow Sammie had it all pretty clear in her mind, while he didn’t. He wondered why this five-feet-four little girl with freckles, red hair and a bratty act understood so much more about his daughter than he did.

"Many things seem to make sense to you, Sam," he said, smiling. "I never thought I would say this, but you’re wise."

"Yeah well before Emma met you I was the voice of reason in her life, you know? I was the good girl!" she exclaimed, not believing that herself.

"Yeah right," he smiled back, patting her head.

"Anyway, now I gotta go home and tell my parents. I wonder if mom will give me another half-assed spanking again, that was just so uber sad and pathetic," she concluded, rolling her eyes.

Alan’s jaw dropped at that and he stared at her with a dumb open-mouthed expression. "Wait a second... your mother spanked you?"

"Hmm, she tried. Quite sad really. Just like this," she gave him a few pats on his arm. "That was it. No bare, no crying, nothing. She’s adorably clueless, silly mother."

"I see... well, perhaps it’s better if I have a little phone chat with her to, umm, instruct her properly on how to do that," he said, quirking an eyebrow, which made Sammie frown. "Changing the subject from Emma for a moment: you do know what you both did was wrong, don’t you?"

Sammie nodded. "Yeah I do... Hey, are you gonna spank me?" she asked, as though the realisation that he could had struck her all of a sudden.

Alan shook his head. "I should, right here and now, but no. Don’t take it personally, but... well, Emmy is more important at the moment, and I’m sure I can tell your mother how to give you a very stinging bottom, Sam." He stood up from the couch and started to walk back towards the kitchen, but turned around again. "And in case she doesn’t, feel free to visit me again anytime," he added with a wee smile.

"Wait, does that mean you want me to come back, like tomorrow for a spanking?" Sammie asked, for the moment completely confused.

"Exactly, my girl. If your mother doesn’t know how or won’t discipline you properly, I guess I’ll have to," he said. "You are okay with that, aren’t you?" he added in a you-better-be tone.

Sammie nodded, and saluted him. "Sure, whatever. I hope my mom does it, though, ‘cuz it’s uber weird to have your best friend’s dad paying attention to your ass. Well, I better go, okay?"

Alan nodded at her unique, absolutely unusual way to say things. "Yes... you better go. Good, umm, luck with that... and, Sammie? Thank you, you’re a precious," and he kissed her forehead.

"I’m a what?" Sammie asked, hugging him.

"Means you’re a good girl, Goodness, read a book sometimes, will ya?" he said half-jokingly.

Sammie frowned. "So no funny, very unfunny." She sighed and headed for the door. "Namaarie! and tell Emma ‘amin mela lle’ for me!" (in Quenya, the words mean "goodbye" and "I love you")

"So true, so very true," he said, and sent her out the door with a smack on her bottom. "Yes... I will say that... whatever that means," and he shook his head.

She rubbed her bottom, stuck her tongue out, then shut the door and ran all the way home.

Alan took a deep breath and walked up the stairs, preparing to face Emma in one of her worst states and moods, to say the least. He reached the door to her room and knocked softly. "Emmy... may I come in?" he asked.

After waiting for a reply for several seconds, Alan knew she was either asleep as Sammie had said or too upset with him to even answer. So he gently pushed the door open, and saw the closet door cracked open; and the tip of Emmy’s white-socked foot sticking out a little. Sighing, he approached the closet and opened it completely. She was fast asleep, clutching her teddy bear and looking small like she never had before.

"Emmy, honey... can daddy talk to you?..." he murmured, a gentle touch to her shoulder.

Emma moved with a moan and started to wake up. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, but slowly she opened them wide, and stared at Alan for a while, probably deciding whether she would accept his presence or not. At long last, while he knelt by the closet’s door and waited, she held her arms out to him, like a small child, meaning she wanted to be held.

His heart now shattered in a million pieces, Alan sat aside her in the closet and lifted her onto his lap, hugging her and kissing her hair. He didn’t say anything, just held her and breathed slowly. The young girl wriggled so that her bottom and thighs did not make contact with his legs, and curled up in a little ball in his arms, burying her face in his chest.

Alan and Emma sat there like that for a long time, neither of them speaking or doing anything. They just hugged, and hugged, and then hugged some more. After a while – might have been minutes, or hours, neither of them could tell – he spoke in her ear, almost in a whisper.

"I’m sorry, Emmy."

"Sorry doesn’t make it all better," she whispered back after thinking it through, tears gathering in her eyes. "Daddy it hurts to move sometimes, I’m sorry I’m horrible! I’ll never be bad again, never ever, I’ll be quiet and do whatever you want!" she pleaded.

Shaking his head, Alan said: "Easy, easy... not so rushed..." She was talking of physical pain and emotional one alike, mixing them in a dangerous way. "Let me explain. I’m sorry about the belt, I shouldn’t have, and it won’t happen again. But, Emma, you must understand that you are not bad and that I don’t think you are horrible... how can I ever make you understand that?"

Emma shrugged. "I am horrible. I am very horrible," she whispered, not able to look at him. "I am bad and spoiled and selfish and I don’t deserve this."

"Deserve what, Em? What is it you don’t deserve?"

"Good things," she said, pointed at him. Tears began to make trails down her pale cheeks. "I am too bad, I always feel guilty, about everything."

Alan sighed and kissed her cheek, turning her face so she could see his. "Now, tell me, plain and clear: do you trust me at least one little bit? Can you believe I’m not a bad man?"

Emma nodded, her eyes wide with surprise. "You’re not bad, I love you a lot!"

"Okay, then tell me: if I’m good and you trust me, why do I love you so much if you’re so bad like you say? Why would I love and care so much for a spoiled rotten little girl like you, hmm?"

Emma shrugged as the logic of that got to her. "Maybe... dunno, ‘cuz nobody else wants me."

"Maybe, but that is not the case. I love you because you’re my daughter, Emmy," he again spoke soothingly in her ear. "I love you because you’re a wonderful girl, can’t you get that in here?" he said, tapping her head.

She shrugged again. "Daddy, you hurt me too much," she whispered, burying her face in his shirt once again. It was one thing to trust him with that evil hairbrush, it was another to use a belt on her! She may not have reacted so badly, had it been just the belt; but the belt on top of the intense hand spanks? It was just too much hurting all at once, and it confused and scared her.

"I know," he said, barely audible. Alan felt horrible inside, like he had never felt in his life, and he wished he would go back and change his actions. "Emmy, honey... I’d give an arm to use that little time-turner thing Hermione has and undo what I did, I’m so, so sorry... please forgive me, the last thing I want is to hurt you. Emma, believe me, I love you and you’re not awful!" he exclaimed.

Emma nestled very tight. "I am awful, but it doesn’t matter. I love you and if you love me, then, I dunno, I guess it will all be okay someday. I need lotion daddy, really bad, it burns like heck. I’m sorry I got scared and made you leave, I’m sorry for everything!"

He exhaled and took his head in his head: there was just no way getting through to this child. "Emmy... yes I’m getting you lotion in a minute, but, listen to me: I think it may not be a bad idea for you to see someone who might help you, help us both. What do you think?"

Emma shrugged and looked away. "I’m not crazy."

"Did I say that?" he said, making his voice a tad firmer now. She shook her head and whimpered. "Of course you’re not crazy, I could never think anything like it," he whispered. "I think you and I can’t do this on our own and need a helping hand, don’t you reckon?"

"I’ll be nervous. I don’t like new people sometimes. It’ll be scary."

"I know, you’re right," he conceded, "but I’m going to be there with you."

"Don’t wanna," she whined.

"Well, you don’t have to decide now," he said, kissing her again. "Think it through for some hours, how’s that sound?"

She nodded. "I can’t go to school tomorrow," she announced

Alan moved a stray of hair from her sweaty forehead. "And why not?"

"It hurts to move, I can’t sit like that" she whimpered.

"By tomorrow morning it’ll be much better, you’ll see," Alan said. "But if you really can’t make it, it’s okay to skip a day," he added, wanting for her to have at least a way out.

"Lotion now?" she begged.

"Alright. Get that night-gown up, I’ll be right back."

Alan stood and went to the bathroom, grabbed the bottle and came back into the room, sitting on her bed. She raised her night-gown just a bit in the back and went over his lap. Her bottom had hurt too much to put panties back on. Alan took a deep breath upon seeing the four parallel red stripes. There was no bruising, but a hint of welting, and they were probably biting into her tender flesh more than he thought she could bear, anyway. He had seen nothing too harsh in that spanking, but obviously he had misjudged Emma’s tolerance. Shaking his head and kicking himself for being so careless and inconsiderate, he opened the bottle and poured generous amounts of lotion on her derriere, then began spreading it around with both hands. Emma cringed and whimpered almost the whole time under his ministrations.

At last, when the lotion had been absorbed, Alan stopped, and let Emma decide whether to stand or stay there a bit longer. "A bit better, hon?"

Emma nodded and scooted around to cuddle tight again. "No more of that, okay?" she half begged, half declared.

Alan nodded, and hugged her back. "No more of that," he repeated, knowing it wasn’t time yet, and that she was way too fragile to endure something like the belt. "Just my hand, okay?" He thought it better not to mention that the hairbrush was still on the menu, for the moment.

She nodded. "I love you forever," she kissed his cheek. "You’re the best dad, even if that was scary. I am sorry I threw you out. Did I make you sad?"

Those words really warmed his heart, and made him feel at least a little better. "You didn’t make me sad, Emmy," he lied blatantly. He should have told her that yes, he had felt the worst in his life ever, and that THAT was the true proof of his love for her and vice-versa, but her emotions were too mixed up at the moment for her to fully grasp that concept, so he kept it as simple as possible. "I am really just worried about you, because I love you, is all."

Smiling contentedly, she hugged him tight and kissed his cheek again. "Can I have ice-cream? I’m hungry." A crooked, adorable little smile spread over her face. She was feeling much better now, and wanted things to be back to normal: lots of love and good food and cuddles.

Alan smiled back, loving to see her little lips curve upwards like that. "Of course... I’m getting some, myself. C’mon, let’s go downstairs," and he held her hand as they stood from the bed. But he didn’t forget, and hoped she wasn’t either, that things were far from normal.

* * *

"Did Sammie call while I was sleeping? She was all worried you might spank her, at school..."

"Yes, actually," said Alan, taking the ice-cream out of the freezer again, but filling two bowls this time, and with lots of it. "She was here, and we had a little talk. She was worried about you more than herself. She also said she was going to tell her parents about the test and everything..." He left it hanging, wanting to see Emma’s reaction to that.

Pouring nearly half the bottle of syrup on the ice-cream, Emma giggled. "I wonder if her mum is gonna ‘spank’ her again! That was SO funny when she told me about it!"

"Well I’m not sure Sammie’s going to find it funny after I tell Annie how to spank her properly," Alan added with a smirk, while helping himself to the remaining syrup.

Emma snickered. "No, but I might!" she winked. "Sammie is silly, but she’s crazy sometimes. Her parents are awesome though, always liked them."

"Oh you might find it funny... you imp," he said, ruffling her hair. "Awesome or not, I hope they choose what’s best for her. If they ground her, good, but if they choose to spank, they should do that properly. If not, I already told her I’d do it – and no, you don’t get to watch."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Ew, I don’t wanna watch her cry! That would be too too too sad, like last time, I nearly cried myself."

"That’s good, though I’m sure she’s going to need your comfort later," he said, nodding. "Well, either way, I suggest you call her, hmm?"

Emma nodded, and standing from the table – but taking her bowl along – she grabbed the cordless phone and dialled the number. "Hey girl... yeah uber better," she assured her friend.

"Oh that’s cool, I’m glad," Sammie said. "I still need to tell my mum though... ‘fraid she’s going to be pissed off."

"Sam, you gotta tell, or she’ll be even more mad, if my DAD tells her."

Sammie sighed loudly. "I knowww but she’s prolly just gonna spank me like that again, you know... and then I’ll have to tell your dad and he’ll..." her voice trailed off as she sighed again.

Emma giggled. "Nah, my dad wants to talk to your parents about it anyways. He wants to tell them how to do it. Poor you, at least we can be sore together, huh?"

To that, Sammie giggled back some. "Hehe, yeah that’s about the only good part. I never had to sleep on my tummy... I wonder what it’s like... Anyway, I better go, you sure you okay, girlie?"

"Yep, get your mom if she’s handy, dad wants to talk with her. Love ya, sleep good!"

"And you too, bye bye!" Sammie let the phone on the table and went to call her mother.

Reaching Emma in the living room, Alan picked the phone from her hands and spoke: "Annie? It’s me, Alan, nice to hear from you."

"Hello Alan. I hear you wanted to talk to me about something?" Mrs. Turtledove said as Alan plopped down on the couch, Emma automatically curling up beside him, her head on his lap, forgetting about the ice-cream and ready to fall back asleep – she was feeling so tired.

"Yes, well, there’s been a little something between Emma and Samantha at school, today... I intend your daughter informed you of that," he said, calmly, while caressing Emmy’s hair, to which the girl responded with a soft purr.

"Yes, Sammie was babbling something about Emma and a test. I can only assume that the girls cheated again." she gave a heavy sigh.

"That’s quite right, I’m afraid," Alan said, and sensed a squirm from Emma, sign that she wasn’t completely asleep yet and was probably listening in. After all, Mrs. Turtledove’s voice was so loud and squeaking that it could be heard from Manchester.

"I am really beyond what to do about it, but Sammie said she and Emma decided no more of this. I might have to spank her again, but I guess it didn’t work too well last time."

"Well, for what it’s worth, I did punish Emma for that..." Even too much, he thought to himself, but knew better than to voice that. "But Sammie told me of the, umm, ‘spanking’ she got yesterday evening from you."

"Oh she did? Well, I have never spanked anyone before..." Annie’s voice trailed off. "Hang on let me tell George what we’re talking about." She put Alan on hold for a moment and filled George in. "Yes, he’s never spanked either, so we aren’t sure how to do it."

"Really," Alan murmured. "You know, I don’t wish to stick my nose where I don’t belong, and I think spanking is the very last resort only in some cases with some kids, but... well, Annie, if you decide to give Samantha a spanking, it should be delivered properly."

"No no no, any comments and such are very welcome!" Annie said, while Sammie groaned on the other end, and quite audibly, too.

"Well, in this case," said Alan, raising his eyebrows, "I suggest first of all that you bare Sam’s bottom for her punishment, and that you spank hard enough to cause a bright pink colour all over her bottom cheeks and upper thighs, especially on the sit-spot, which is the place where she will feel it the most while sitting down. It’s not cruelty, just a reminder for the following hours."

Emma scrunched up her face, looking like: eww, but she was content where she was, and with him rubbing her back and patting her head. She needed that kind of mushy stuff.

"Okay," Annie said, relaying all this to George as well.

"Besides from that," Alan kept on, still rubbing his daughter’s hair affectionately, "I believe you should stop when she is genuinely sorry. Crying is not indispensable, since tolerance and reactions to pain are very different in everyone, but tears or not, you need to make sure that Sammie hates the punishment enough not to want a repeat. That’s the whole point after all."

"Alright," Annie replied. "That’s what you do for Emma, right?"

"Yes, it’s the way Emma is spanked, you got that right," he said. "Please note that you need to steel yourself here and there, because you will often want to draw back and let it drop, especially if Sammie cries easily like my little Em does."

At that, Emma groaned, hating being talked about, and felt a pang of hurt pride and was about to nudge him in his ribs and say "I don’t!", but she restrained herself, also suppressing a giggle.

"Okay... George too says it all sounds good. You give such excellent suggestions Alan!"

Alan patted Emma’s head twice at her groan, then patted her bottom too, just as lightly. "You’re both welcome," he said on the phone. "I hope everything works out fine."

"Us too. Anything else we should know? Sammie, hush dear, go eat your supper!"

That made Emma snicker a bit.

"Not that I can think of," said Alan, as he planted a very mild slap to Emma’s right buttock, which made her whimper but also snicker some more. "Ah yes: be always very, very loving and soothing, afterwards. I’m sure that’s not a problem anyway. And one last thing: don’t overdo it. Be careful. The consequences might be... well, something you don’t want to experience."

Emmy’s body went a bit stiffer at that, and predicting such a reaction, Alan caressed her hair and neck more lovingly, letting her know he was there and loved her very much, until she relaxed again.

"Oh, never, Sammie is a regular cuddle-bunny with George and I. She’s such an affectionate child, she and Emma are a good match."

Alan smiled, fond of the thought. "Yes, that is true, they really are. And I noticed just how cuddly Sam can be too, so I’m sure that’s not going to be an issue. Well, I wish you good luck."

"Give Emma a big hug for me," Annie said. "I’d best go now, Sammie’s looking quite nervous, and George and I have to decide which of us is going to spank her. Have a good night Alan."

"Thank you, do the same to her from me... and goodnight." He hung up the phone and turned Emma over on his lap so he could look at her. Smiling, he said: "Weren’t you sleeping?"

"Almost but no" she giggled, adding a tickle to his stomach. Shaking his head, he tickled her back until she squirmed. She giggled and squirmed, looking delighted.

"Your friend will have something to talk about after supper, I am sure."

"Yeah. Can she come over? Please?? I don’t feel good enough to go over there."

"Of course. Remains to be seen if she will feel like coming over. But if she does, why not."

* * *

Not even ten minutes after dinner was over, the front doorbell rang again, and Alan stood from the table where he and Emma were sitting, and went to open. In walked a rather frowning Sammie, who still looked up at him and smiled.

"Hello Mr. R... hmm... can I talk to Emma?"

"Sure," said Alan, quirking an eyebrow.

Sammie ran to Emma and hugged her. "Don’t EVER let me get you spanked again, okay?"

"Aww..." Emma nodded, and the girls sniffled together, each rubbing her own sore bottom.

Still in the foyer, Alan watched the scene and smiled, shaking his head. He closed the door and approached them, noticing Sam rubbing her tush too. "So, how’s it going?" he asked casually.

"Hurts, damn it, that’s how it’s going," Sammie grumbled.

It was hard to repress even a smile, but Alan managed to. Barely. "Well, that’s the point. Not the love pats you showed me earlier, so?"

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Don’t even talk to me girl, you didn’t get half of what I did!"

"Well, you watch your tongue and your mouth unless you want seconds," he told Sammie, then to Emma: "and you don’t make comparisons, might’ve been even worse." But then he smiled and hugged them both.

Sammie stuck her tongue out at him again, when she thought he wasn’t looking, and she and Emma snickered and hugged some more. And in fact Alan wasn’t exactly looking, but he figured she had done a face at him, and still mildly slapped her jean-clad backside. For good measure, he did the same to Emma, then said:

"Get out of my sight... go praise that Orlando-someone and let me work, c’mon," he said, again giving them a smile.

"I’m all forgiven, right?" Sammie asked Alan, as both girls giggled.

Alan rolled his eyes and said: "I guess so, yeah. As long as you both learnt not to cheat, whatever the reason, you’re both forgiven."

Both girls hugged him again and ran up the stairs. "Wanna sleep over at my place tomorrow?" Sammie asked.

"Sure!" Emma exclaimed.

The girls disappeared into Emma’s room, the upsets of the day quickly forgotten as they laid on their tummies and talked and looked over the chapters for tomorrow... together.

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan