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Message-ID: <32308asstr$999339002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: lise yates <kieyra@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Control (MF Rom, Gen-X)
Date: Sat,  1 Sep 2001 06:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d







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   <1st attachment, "control.txt" begin>

   ******************** Control by Kieyra

   This is my first post to A.S.S.M.  and my first attempt at erotic
ficiton.  You've been warned.

   NOTE: This does contain actual sex between two human beings.  If you
don't think you should be reading this, you probably shouldn't.  If you do
anyway, please don't blame me.

   ********************



   Prologue, October 1996.

   Elizabeth was ready to leave.  Marly got halfway to the club's front
door before she realized she'd forgotten her purse out in the courtyard
area behind the club.  "Be right back!" she yelled over the thumping music.
She walked rapidly to the back of the club and out the back door.  Pushed
her way through the crowded patio and found the purse where she'd left it,
next to a stone fountain full of rocks.

   She turned around and headed back to the door.  As she approached it,
she nearly collided with another body reaching for the door at the same
time.  She stopped short.  Took a step back.  "Sorry." She smiled.

   Jesus, he was cute; in a vague, elven, long-haired way that almost
guaranteed that he had developed an inflated ego as a result.  Guys like
that didn't even look at Marly; her attractiveness was too subtle and she
sent all the wrong signals.

   But he smiled back.  "Pardon me."

   'Pardon me?' she thought.



   Then, still smiling, he reached for the door.  Opened it.  Held it. 
Executed a fluid bow and a little hand gesture indicating that she should
enter.  He was wearing some sort of black, renaissance-style poet shirt -
it was a Goth club, not that anyone took it too seriously - and the whole
scene seemed suddenly misplaced in time.  Like she had just stepped into
some Bronte novel from her high school required-reading list.  The gesture
was simple, unselfconscious.  She smiled again and curtsied, vague memory
from a drama class, and entered ahead of him.

   Loud darkness again.  She wove through smoke and bodies.  Thinking about
him.  Stopped.  Turned around.  Looked at the bar next to the back door,
sifting through faces of people standing at the bar.

   There he was.

   Looking at *her*.

   Smiling at her, across the space and through the moving bodies between
them.  Direct eye contact now.

   It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds: He raised his eyebrows
slightly.  Inquiry.  Glanced at an empty barstool next to where he was
standing, then back at her.  Invitation.  She took a breath and couldn't
think of a reason why not.  Made up her mind, began walking towards him. 
His smile broadened a little.

   Then she heard someone yelling her name.  Elizabeth, all but forgotten.
She turned, saw Elizabeth at the opposite edge of the crowd, at the club's
front door, holding up her pager and looking exasperated.  She was on call
at work; they must have paged her.  Marly sighed, cast a last desperate
glance over her shoulder.  He was still standing there.  Took a swallow
from his bottle of beer, smiled at her and shrugged.  She smiled back and
shook her head helplessly.  And they left.





   She never told Elizabeth about what happened; she couldn't seem to find
the words.  'I saw this cute guy.  He smiled at me.' Talk about pathetic.
But for the next several weeks, she couldn't go to that club without
looking for him, scanning the crowd for his face distractedly.  Doing a
double-take whenever she saw a guy with long dark hair.  But she never saw
him there again.  Eventually she wasn't sure she even remembered what he'd
looked like.  A few months later, she met Craig and forgot the whole
incident.



   Five Years Later



   She'd had a few beers at the party but wasn't really feeling them.  And
that was a shame, really, because she would enjoy turning her brain off for
one night.  Marly was enjoying her new, solitary life of the last five
months, mostly; her first time in her own apartment with no roommates and
no boyfriends to take care of or clean up after.  But she was under stress
at work, and still not totally over her last relationship - and Craig had
shown up here tonight with the new girlfriend.  It was obvious they were
just making an appearance; they couldn't keep their hands off each other
and left quickly.

   So, she thought, I'm feeling sorry for myself and I can't even get
properly drunk.  She drifted from room to room at the party, looking for
amusement, distraction, anything.  She ended up back in the den where a
loud game of Trivial Pursuit was going on, presided over by Elizabeth.

   Marly watched for a while, got yelled at when she almost gave away the
answer to a particularly tough question, and tried to determine the complex
rules - they seemed to involve the ingestion of alcohol at almost every
stage of the game.

   She was just settling back into a gloom, sinking into the couch and
considering just giving up and going home, when a guy walked in she thought
she recognized.  No.  Yes - he used to work with Craig.  Programmer. 
Grudgingly her mind came up with the name - Something like Kevin?  Keenan?
No, Kieran.  She remembered him as being very quiet and standoffish.  She
remembered little else.

   She realized now why she hadn't quite recognized him at first; his hair,
straight and dark ash brown, had grown quite long since she'd last seen
him. He'd had short hair when he worked with Craig.  She had a thing for
long hair and she found herself studying him intently.

   Late twenties.  Slight of build but not skinny - definite muscle tone in
the arms there, showing through his long-sleeved shirt - and not much
taller than herself.  Dark eyelashes and brows contrasted pale gray-blue
eyes.  Smile-lines at the outer corners of his eyes, the early suggestion
of crows' feet.  Other lines under the eyes suggested that maybe he hadn't
been sleeping too well for a while.

   His jawline was not square enough to be considered classically handsome,
but the artist in her liked the high, sharp structure of his cheekbones. 
Perhaps some American Indian background...  except for the pale complexion
that, with the blue eyes and dark hair, brought the term "black Irish" to
her mind instead.  His name, which she had at first dismissed as the result
of Hippie parents, did sound Celtic now that she thought about it.

   Despite his diminutive stature - compared to the men she usually dated,
anyway - he had a definite aura of self-possession and confidence.  He
moved with a predatory grace, and Marly almost laughed out loud at herself
for the cliche as soon as she thought it.

   He sat down on the opposite end of the couch from her, smiled at her
briefly, and was immediately conscripted into the trivia game.  When he
rolled the dice and moved the game pieces, she found herself staring at his
hands and noticing how quick and dexterous he was.  When he spoke, his
voice was not very deep, but controlled and articulate, like the precise
movements of his hands.  He seemed to make no false moves, no wasted
motion. And the next thing she knew, she was wondering what he would be
like in bed.

   Ok, get a grip, she thought.

   She continued to watch him, wondering why she had never noticed him
before, and wondering if this meant that she was just getting desperate to
get laid.  She decided that it didn't really matter either way, that he
would catch the despair in her eyes and nothing would happen, and that
anyway talking to him couldn't hurt anything.

   During a break in the game, she caught his eye.  "You used to work at
SyTech, didn't you?" she asked him.

   "Yeah.  You're Craig's girlfriend, right?  Marly?"

   "Not for a while now, no." She laughed.  "I mean, yes, I'm still Marly,
no to the rest."

   "Really." He said enigmatically.  He stood up before she had a chance to
respond.  "I'm going to the kitchen.  Want anything to drink?"



   Still thinking about his comment, she replied "Sure, a beer would be
great."

   She watched him as he walked away.  Straight, fine hair the color of
dark chocolate down to mid-shoulder blade; long but not hippie-long, ending
in a neat, straight cut.  Shoulders broad in proportion to his body. 
Slightly faded blue jeans.  *Nice* ass.  How had she never noticed how
attractive he was before?  She tried to remember when she had last seem him
- it had certainly been over a year, judging by his hair length - and all
she could remember was passing his office on her way to Craig's, the back
of Kieran's head; he never seemed to look up from his workstation.

   "Try to restrain yourself." Elizabeth was watching her with obvious
amusement.  Damned perceptive bitch.  She smiled and shrugged at her
friend. No point denying it.  "Yes," Elizabeth said, taking a gulp of a
violently purple mixed drink and wincing, "he's single."

   Kieran came back with the beers.  He had opened the bottle for her
already.  Smooth, she thought.  Nice touch.  He handed it to her, and sat
back down at the opposite end of the couch.  She'd caught his scent for a
minute as he leaned over to hand her the beer, clean and male and
unfamiliar.  Marly felt a warm tingling creeping up around her arms,
shoulders, the back of her neck.  Her face felt hot.  This is it, she
thought, trying not to stare at him.  I'm doomed.  Ten minutes and I'm
totally infatuated.



   Rick finally became incoherently drunk, and Marly was recruited to the
team opposing Kieran's.  She was good at Trivial Pursuit - her brain
excelled at storing useless information - but she soon realized he was
good, too.  Both teams stayed virtually tied.

   He surprised her by answering an arcane question about a Katherine
Hepburn film; she didn't know any of her friends who liked old movies the
way she did.  He seemed surprised at her knowledge, too.  She caught him
off-guard with a sarcastic comment and got the first real laugh she'd heard
out of him.  She liked it.  Eventually more players drifted off and it
became obvious that the real competition was between Marly and Kieran.

   And another game was going on too, underneath the obvious one.  She
caught him staring at her about as often as she was caught herself, until
finally they'd given up and started letting the eye contact linger longer
and longer each time.  Nothing anyone else would notice; a few seconds here
and there, a smile, a raised eyebrow.

   The game lasted nearly two hours, with frequent interruptions and calls
for answers to be verified on the net.  Several players came and went; only
Marly and Kieran remained the entire time, seemingly locked in deadly
combat.

   The intellectual competition combined with the subvocal flirtation and
the overwhelming physical chemistry she felt with Kieran had Marly feeling
very 'on' and in her element, her earlier gloom forgotten.  She let her
hair down from the ponytail holding it, let it curl around her shoulders,
stared at Kieran and smiled, looked away.  There, that had gotten his
attention; she could feel his sudden intense stare in her peripheral
vision.



   Then Kieran started handing her the dice each time his turn was over,
instead of leaving them on the board, and the brief contact of their hands
left tingles running up her forearm.  He grinned at her, the message clear
- it was retaliation.

   Finally, his team won the game on a silly question about Madonna.

   "Good game," she said.  She reached over to shake his hand, letting her
hair fall forward.  The shock of the full contact of their palms was almost
absurdly exciting.  "Want another beer?"

   "Sure," he smiled.  The eye contact again.  A real smile.  Straight
white teeth, tiny creases beside his mouth when he smiled like that.

   In the kitchen, she looked through the fridge.  No beer.

   "Elizabeth!" she yelled.  "Beer?"

   "Um...  Cooler on the back patio!" a voice yelled back.

   She made her way through the living room to the patio doors, and slipped
outside.  There were a few smokers hanging around dejectedly in the dim
light, discussing linux distributions, but she was in no mood for Geek
Mode. She found the cooler in a corner, and began digging through the ice
in search of beer.  She retrieved two bottles, shut the cooler, turned
around and gasped.  Kieran was standing there.  She hadn't heard him walk
up behind her.  She hated that.

   "Sorry", he said, "You were taking too long".  Again the smile.  She'd
been gone less than a minute.

   "I'll have them FedEx'd next time."



   He laughed and held out a hand for the beers.  He took them both, opened
them, and gave one back to her.  She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her
nerves.  The musky smell of night-blooming jasmine was wonderful.  They
looked at each other in silence a moment before Marly grinned
self-consciously and broke the eye contact.

   "I didn't mean to scare you," he began.  "I just needed some air."

   "It's ok.  I'm a fairly high-strung person".  She shrugged.  "It's part
of my charm."

   "You're good at trivia, too."

   She smiled.  "So are you.  I was surprised at that Katherine Hepburn
question you got.  I don't know anyone besides me who even knows who she is
these days."

   "Well, we always watched old movies in my house.  No cable.  I didn't
see Star Wars till I was twenty.  I loved The Philadelphia Story."

   "Me too, it's my favorite!" responded Marly, sincerely surprised.

   They compared other movie favorites in common for a while.  "There's
just something about old movies," Kieran said, "they're so much more..."

   "Glamourous?"

   "Exactly.  It's like movies today try so hard to be dark and negative.
Why?  Don't we already have enough of that in real life?" Marly nodded.

   "I mean, a good movie is supposed to be this fantasy world," he
continued, "where cool things happen, the bad guys lose, the heroine gets
swept off her feet, and everyone goes home happy." He laughed and rolled
his eyes.  "Ok, I sound a little idealistic, but you know what I mean.  And
it just seems like the only well-written films these days are also total
downers."

   "Absolutely," she replied.  "It's the reason I don't watch many movies.
It's all either stoner comedies or Requiem For A Dream.  If I want to be
depressed I can read the news."

   Or spend some time in my own head, she thought.



   "Yeah." He frowned, as though in response to her unspoken words.  "How
long have you and Craig been split up?" he asked.  "If you don't mind me
asking, of course."

   "Five, almost six months.  It just wasn't working.  There was no
chemistry anymore," she said, trying not to place obvious emphasis on the
word 'chemistry'.  "We'd gone different directions.  And assorted other
cliches."

   He nodded.  "Happens.  Sounds like it wasn't too traumatic, though?"



   Well, she thought, sometimes I still feel like an animal who has gnawed
off their own limb to escape a trap; like a part of my body has been
amputated.  Other than that, it was fine.

   Instead she said "It could have been worse."

   They were silent a moment.  She picked idly at the label of her
now-empty beer bottle.  He finished off his, and they threw their bottles
in a garbage bin next to the cooler.

   Marly leaned against the wall behind her, looked around, noticed the
smokers had gone.  They were alone on the patio.  The first time she had
ever been alone with him, anywhere.  Kieran leaned back against one of the
patio roof's supporting columns, facing her.  She studied him.  He seemed
to be thinking, choosing words.

   "Don't you wish," he began, "that things actually happened the way they
do in old movies, sometimes?" he asked.  "I mean, the way things can happen
so spontaneously or passionately, and no one questions it or worries about
the complications or what's going to happen tomorrow?"

   She thought about her life of the last few months.  She stared at the
ground.  "Yeah." She sighed without meaning to.  "I could use some
spontaneity myself these days.  I'm starting to forget what it feels
like..." She looked back up at him.  His expression was unreadable.

   Suddenly he was crossing the small space between them, fast, moving
towards her, and she reflexively tried to back up; felt the solid wall
behind her.  Then he was in front of her, both palms laid flat against the
wall on either side of her, trapping her there.

   He leaned closer, stared at her intently, and said "Really?"

   This should have been off-putting, even a little frightening.  She
didn't like people forcing themselves into her personal space, and a move
like this would normally leave her annoyed and contemptuous.  Instead, she
felt excitement.  It didn't feel like a halfconfident macho maneuver.  No,
rather, he seemed *utterly* confident.  I'm not letting this go, she
thought.  And she wasn't going to let him win the little contest of wills -
if that was what it was.

   She held the eye contact, and said, clearly, "Yes.  Really."

   In her peripheral vision, his right hand moved from the wall so fast she
had to suppress a flinch.  The hand approached her face; he laid four
fingertips along her jawline and cheekbone.  Then softly, slowly, he ran
the ball of his thumb along her lower lip.  She inhaled sharply and felt
her pulse accelerate.  Her face and upper body seemed to grow sunburn-warm
instantly.

   The night around her slowed down and she was hyperaware of everything:
the way he smelled (Mixed with cigarette smoke and incense from the party);
the way his eyebrows and eyelashes were so dark and fine (Like something
she would draw in a whimsical moment); the hint of a smile at the corner of
his mouth (Amused by her reactions so far?  Pleased?); the way their
breathing got a little shallower, a little quicker...

   The kiss she knew was coming.

   His face, inches from her own; the scattering of faint freckles across
his pale nose and cheekbones.  The sounds of the party spilling out: Music,
the lyrics to some Tool song...

   'I choose to live and to

   Lie, kill and give and to

   Die, learn and love and to

   Do what it takes to step through...'

   And then the moment of suspended awareness was over and he was kissing
her; and then she had both her hands buried in his long, smooth hair, the
hair she'd been wanting to touch all night, fingertips on the back of his
head, pulling him closer.  He was up against her with his entire body,
pushing her against the wall - she could feel his sudden erection through
his jeans - and their kissing was soon becoming nearly violent, tongues
performing the ritual dance, the contact of his front teeth against hers,
their breathing labored.

   Then, as suddenly as he'd started, he backed off a little, slowed down,
seemed to gain control of his own breathing; he began deliberately breaking
the kiss up into a series of slower kisses, ending each one after a few
moments; lingering, sucking her lower lip gently between his teeth, making
her work for contact with his tongue while still pinning her against the
wall.  He was much stronger than he looked, and he massed more than she
did.

   He seemed to be focusing total concentration on kissing her.He bit her
lower lip lightly and she moaned involuntarily, and she knew then that she
was in trouble for sure.  She had never had this before, someone so
confident that he was willing to fully exploit the first rush of powerful
chemistry they were experiencing instead of taking a more cautious,
tentative route.  Like asking for a phone number.  She knew exactly what he
was doing, and that he knew she knew, and so on, and that just made it all
even more exciting.

   They continued like that for perhaps two more minutes - it seemed much
longer - with Marly struggling to gain control of the kissing and mostly
failing, and she got the feeling that he was amused by her attempts to put
him at her mercy instead of the other way around.  Then they heard someone
fumbling with the patio door.  They separated, each adjusting their
clothing and trying to get their hair back behind their shoulders and
unmussed.  Marly tried to catch her breath and act casual.  Kieran seemed
perfectly at ease.  Damn him.

   Elizabeth came out, seemingly oblivious (but Marly knew better -
Elizabeth would just wait for a better time to grill her) and said "There
you guys are.  I was about to send out a search party.  Come on, Rick's
opening his presents."

   "You mean he's conscious?" asked Kieran.

   "Mostly."

   They followed Elizabeth back into the den.  Marly sat back down where
she'd been on the couch.  There were no other open spots on the couch, and
Kieran leaned against the arm of the couch beside her.  But he didn't make
any possessive moves towards her, didn't take any liberties or try to
demonstrate to anyone that she was now his territory.  Her respect for him
increased.

   She was also slightly disappointed.

   They went through the present-opening ritual, but Marly paid no
attention.  She was replaying the patio scene in her head, the moment he
had trapped her against the wall.  She could still taste him, could still
smell his hair on her hands.  She still felt breathless and a little shaky.
Finally she pushed up off the couch and said "Be right back" to Kieran, and
headed to the bathroom.

   She locked the door behind her, leaned against the bathroom wall then
and, closing her eyes, imagined the feel of his tongue again.  She cupped
her hands against her face and inhaled deeply, smelling his hair.  Jesus,
she thought.  I'm in trouble.  She walked to the sink, splashed cold water
on her face, dried off with a hand towel.  She looked at herself in the
mirror.  Her face was still flushed, eyes bright, lips slightly
swollen-looking - but that was surely just her imagination.

   Finally someone knocked on the bathroom door, and she unlocked it and
exited past - someone; she wasn't really paying attention.  She turned back
to the party, but something else had caught her eye and she looked back
down the hall towards the bedrooms - yes, there was Kieran, leaning against
the door of a linen closet at the end of the hall, grinning.  She turned
and walked to him and smiled back, wondering what he was up to.

   He held out a hand for hers, and she took his hand tentatively, the feel
of his cool fingers against hers a strange contrast to the heat of their
earlier contact.  He opened a bedroom door.  It was a guest bedroom.  She
followed him in, wondering if he honestly thought she was going to fuck him
right then, at a party, in a friend's guest bedroom, wondering if she'd
made a mistake.

   He tried the light switch.  Nothing happened.  "Burned out," he
announced.  How convenient, she thought.  But there was a lot of moonlight
coming in through the window - a full moon, no wonder her brain was
elsewhere - and he pulled her in behind him and closed the door.  The empty
bedroom was cold.  She felt goose bumps rising on her skin.  He turned to
face her, leaning against a dresser, and just as she was about to make a
snide comment about whatever it was he was expecting to happen here, he
surprised her again by pulling her to him and hugging her against his
chest, wrapping his arms around her.  Like they'd known each other forever.
And she instinctively put her arms around his neck, leaned into him, and
buried her face in his hair, which smelled faintly of citrus.  And
simultaneously, they both sighed a long sigh that sounded like profound
relief after a long and painful separation.  Then they both laughed, his
breath against her neck.

   "Listen," he said, still holding on to her.  "This is going to sound
cliche, but I don't normally do this sort of thing."

   "Too bad, I do it all the time," she replied automatically, and he
laughed.

   "Seriously, though.  I have to go.  Now.  I have to go pick up my mother
at the airport, she's flying in late tonight."

   "Okay," she mumbled, feeling like the floor had dropped out from beneath
her.  Not fair, she thought.  Not fair at all.  Here comes the lie.  He
changed his mind, or something.

   "Listen," he repeated, and disengaged from her, tilted her face up,
making her look at him.  Her own eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she
could see his irises, pale and colorless in the moonlight.  "I'm not
letting this go." She stiffened at the mirroring of her own earlier
thought. He went on without noticing.  "I want to see you again.  I'm going
to be busy all week this week with my Mom in town.  She's going to be
buying some property down here and I have to help her out, show her around.
So I'm going to give you my email address, and I want you to write to me
and give me yours.  If you want to.  If I don't hear from you, I'll assume
this wasn't a good time in your life for this."



   He took out a thin wallet, handed her a business card.  She put it in
her jeans pocket without looking at it.  She looked at him silently.  He
sighed, pulled her back to him, and kissed her softly, once.  "Write me" he
said, "or call.  Ok?" She nodded.

   He went and opened the door a crack, peered out.  "All clear." They
walked out.  He went into the front living room, where she heard him saying
his goodbyes.  She headed back into the den and collapsed on a couch next
to Elizabeth, trying to act casual.

   "So," Elizabeth asked, "Are you in love?"

   Marly sighed, not bothering to evade.  "I don't know.  I'm in
*something*, alright."

   "I knew you two were going to hook up tonight.  You've both been single
a while, and you both suck at being single." She frowned.  "And you both
have that need for intensity in your lives."

   "He had a girlfriend recently?" Marly asked, ignoring the last comment.

   "Yeah.  Long-term.  Real ugly ending, about a year ago.  She got
pregnant with another guy, tried to tell him it was his.  He had to come up
with the money for DNA testing to prove it wasn't.  And some other really
charming stuff.  He's been pretty bitter ever since.  I think tonight is
the first time I've heard him actually laugh since it all went down."

   Marly thought about all this.  She pulled the business card out of her
pocket, turned it around in her fingers a few times before reading it.  She
recognized the name of a small local Internet company.  Then his name:
Kieran R.  Warrick, Lead Developer, then an email address, and, almost as
an afterthought, some phone numbers.

   "I'm going home," she announced.

   ***



   During the half-hour drive home, she turned the radio on but didn't
really listen to it; instead replaying the evening in her head, over and
over.

   Back home, she already knew what she was going to do without consciously
thinking about it; she was going to write him email right now.  Once she
admitted it to herself, she couldn't get online fast enough.



   Hello.  Remember me?  I know it's been a while since we last spoke,



   but I decided to drop you a line and see how things have been

   going for you.  Maybe we should get together, catch up on old

   times?

   Let me know.

   Marly



   She felt a little silly, but sent the message off anyway and then, on a
whim, did a net search for "kieran" and "celtic".  According to the first
page she found, "Kieran" meant "black, dark, mysterious" in Celtic.  Hmpf.
She got up to get some water, and was still standing in the kitchen,
talking to one of her cats, when she heard the little Ding!  from her
computer that meant she had new email.  No way, she thought.  Gotta be spam
or a mailing list.  She literally ran back to her computer, and felt a
goofy grin on her face when she saw that he had already replied.



   Of course I remember you!  It HAS been a while but I have a good

   memory.  Las Vegas, 1983, right?  Fortunately I managed to

   plea-bargain the charges down to a misdemeanor.  Sorry I haven't

   kept in touch.

   Seriously, I'm glad you wrote.  home from the airport, mom is

   sleeping off her jet lag, and I'm wide awake.  If you are too, I

   know this is old-fashioned at all, but do you want to talk on the

   phone a bit?  If so, don't bother replying to this message, just

   call me on the cellphone number on my business card.  (All calls

   will be billed at $1.99 per minute, please have your Visa or

   MasterCard ready.)



   Kieran "ALL YOUR TRIVIA ARE BELONG TO US" Warrick



   "Yes!" she exclaimed out loud, causing one of her cats, dozing on top of
the monitor, to open her eyes and glare at Marly with contempt.  She
bounced into her bedroom with the cordless phone, the business card and a
glass of water, pausing only to brush her teeth and scrub off what was left
of her makeup.  She quickly stripped off her clothing except for her
T-shirt and underwear, turned off the lights, and burrowed into her bed. 
She read the business card by the light of the moonlight streaming in, and
dialed his number.

   "I'm glad you called," was the way he answered the phone.

   "Hello," she said, smiling in the dark.

   "Just couldn't stay away, could you?"

   "Well, no more than you could."

   "Ok..  you've got me there.  So, what are you wearing?"

   She laughed.  "Star Wars pajamas," she lied.

   "Oooh..  my favorite.  Carrie Fisher was hot."

   She laughed again.  "So..." she began, tentatively, "Tonight was.. 
interesting."

   "Interesting...  I guess that's one way to put it.  Look, I hope you
don't think I'm, you know, a player or something.  I don't normally force
myself on my Trivial Pursuit opponents like that.  Even if they do lose.  I
guess I have no excuse for my actions.  But I'm not going to apologize."



   "Good," she said.  "Neither am I." She stretched, enjoying the feel of
the cool sheets.  "Mmmm..."

   "Jesus," he said, "what are you doing?"

   "Sorry," she said, embarrassed.  "I was just stretching.  The bed feels
good."

   "Don't be sorry.  You make the coolest sounds."

   "Really?" She was smiling in the dark, her face growing warm again.

   "Yes.  I really enjoyed kissing you tonight.  You're very... 
responsive."

   "I suppose I'm not too good at hiding what I'm feeling."

   "It was nice.  Don't hide it."

   "Ok.  But you may regret it someday." She changed the subject.  "How do
you know Elizabeth, anyway?"

   "We used to date, a long time ago.

   "What?!  She never told me about you."

   "Well, we were, like, nineteen at the time and both very confused.  It
didn't last long.  But the friendship continued.  The time we were dating
was insignificant compared to the amount of time we've been friends.  I'm
not surprised she didn't mention it."

   "Well, I still don't understand why I've never run into you before,
other than at SyTech."

   He took a breath, sighed.  "I haven't gone out much for the past few
years.  I was in a long-term relationship until last year, and I just
didn't do much else besides work."

   "Yeah, I know how that goes, actually."

   They were quiet a moment.

   "It sucks, doesn't it?  Being alone again.." she asked.

   "Yeah..  At first I missed her a little, even though things ended really
badly.  Then I got used to her not being around.  But you still miss having
someone there-"

   "Just another human being."

   "Exactly.  It's weird, but it's still hard for me to sleep now, without
having someone to put my arm around."

   "A pillow just isn't the same."

   He laughed.  "Not at all.  I..." he trailed off.

   "Hmm?"

   He sighed.  "Ok, since this is confession time, I was about to say 'I
wish I had you here to put my arm around right now.' I mean, I know that
sounds ludicrous at this stage, but believe it or not, the highlight of the
night for me was when we hugged, in that bedroom."

   "I know," she said softly.

   He took a breath.  "Not to say that the rest wasn't enjoyable..."

   "Very." She stretched again, remembering his tongue, his arms. 
"Mmmmm.."

   "You're doing it on purpose this time, aren't you?"

   "Possibly."

   "I hope you realize what you're doing to me, making noises like that."

   "Whatever it is, you probably deserve it."

   "Hey now.  Careful."



   "Is that a challenge?"

   "Let's just say I'll be remembering that little remark for later."

   She hesitated a moment.  "Is there going to *be* a later?"

   "I told you I wanted to see you again," he said, sounding suddenly
serious.  "And by the way, I think you're wrong, we *did* run into each
other before I worked at SyTech.  Literally."

   "What?!" Something had been nagging at the back of her mind since he'd
walked into the party.  Even after she'd recognized him from SyTech.  But
she'd dismissed it.  Now it came back, full force.

   "Well, you used to go to a club called Claudia's, downtown, right? 
Before it closed?  Goth place?"

   "Yes..."

   He sighed.  Laughed.  "This sounds so stupid now, I'm sure you don't
remember, we didn't even talk, but we sort of bumped into each other..."

   It clicked then, everything.  "Going in the back door!  From the
courtyard.  Oh my *god*!"

   "You do remember, then."

   "Yes!  And I went back to that stupid club every Saturday night for the
next two months looking for you!  I was so mad at myself for letting
Elizabeth-- Hey, wait a second.  Elizabeth was there with me that night. 
Why didn't I see her talking to you, since you two have been friends so
long?"

   "I did talk to her that night.  She said she was with a friend who was
off dancing.  Then she got paged by work and went to go look for her.  That
was you she was talking about?  Is that why you left?"

   "Yes!  Oh my god.  This is too weird.  I was obsessed with you and I
didn't even know you."

   "If it makes you feel any better, you had the same effect on me.  But I
started working weird hours and didn't go there anymore.  Then I met
Janine. But didn't Elizabeth make the connection, when you described me?"

   "Well...  I never told her.  I had just met her at that point and I
thought it would sound a little flaky.  That I was obsessed with some guy
I'd interacted with for two minutes, and I didn't even know his name."

   "I never mentioned it to her either.  The connection, it was just
too..."

   "Subtle?"

   "Exactly.  And then I saw you tonight, and I only recognized you from
SyTech...  Until you took your hair down.  That was a dirty trick, by the
way."

   "Thanks."

   "Yeah.  But anyway, you always had your hair up when I saw you at
SyTech, no makeup, and I never made the connection before.."

   "Your hair threw me off, too.  It was so short at SyTech," she
interjected.

   "Janine didn't like it long.  Anyway, when you took your hair down
tonight, I remembered that night at Claudia's, and how pissed off I was at
myself for not just chasing you down on the way to the parking lot and
handing you my phone number." He took a deep breath.  "And so I decided I
needed to do something a little more definitive tonight to make up for my
earlier inaction.  Thanks for cooperating."

   She laughed.  "I'm sorry, I'm kind of speechless right now...  I wish
you were here right now so I could look at you again and compare it to the
memory of that night."

   "So, when can I see you again?"

   The sudden shift caught her off-guard.  "Well, I don't have anything
planned for the next few hours," she replied.  It was a bluff, but she was
half hoping he would call it.



   He didn't.  "I can't.  I need to be up early tomorrow to drive my mother
around.  Or, believe me, I'd take you up on it."

   "Fine.  Next Saturday night then?"

   "Think we'll make it that long?"

   "Guess we'll find out."



   After the phone call, she tossed and turned and could not sleep. 
Finally she masturbated, three times, thinking about him as she orgasmed
each time, thinking about his smell and his taste and his voice.

   ***

   Over the course of emails that week they worked out the details: Kieran
would drop his mother and her rental car off at the airport that night, and
take a taxi back to his house.  His car was in the shop, so she would pick
him up around 10pm.  They decided to skip the whole first-date dinner
awkwardness ("What if I accidentally ordered something stringy?" Marly
protested) and go directly to a new club that had opened downtown in
Claudia's old location, and meet up with Elizabeth and Rick and the rest of
the crowd.

   The week flew by, mostly because Marly was swamped at work - although
she regretted having almost no time to talk to Kieran via phone or email -
but then the clock seemed to stop at around 3pm Friday.  The next three
hours took about four subjective weeks, as Marly tried to concentrate on
deadline work.

   But the week finally ended, and Marly stayed in Friday night with a
bottle of red wine and listened to old MP3s.  She slept in late Saturday,
then spent literally all afternoon getting ready, occasionally stopping to
shake her head and laugh at herself; she felt like a silly teenager.

   As if the universe was attempting to make the evening perfect for her,
there had been a cold snap the night before, which meant that Marly could
comfortably wear her favorite, melodramatic, thick velvet "gothy" dress,
the one she could really only wear to clubs.  It was black, with long black
lace bell-sleeves, and the bodice laced all the way up the front, enhancing
her already curvy figure.  She didn't consider herself to be part of the
"goth" subculture - she found angst more than a little boring - but she
enjoyed the opportunity to dress up like this once in a while, to deviate
from the norm.  She applied her makeup carefully, and put on her favorite
silver-and-moonstone earrings, and a simple silver necklace.  Finally, she
let her long red-brown hair down to dry naturally, allowing it to curl
however it wished.

   She was ready, but she still had a little while before it would be time
to leave.  She tried to calm her nerves, burning incense and listening to
music; but her heart was pounding, threatening to crash out of her chest
She figured she *had* to look better than she had at the party last
weekend, when she had barely bothered to throw on some makeup and find a
clean shirt.  She wondered what Kieran would wear.

   Around 9:45, Kieran called to tell her that he was home from the
airport, and that she could head over whenever she was ready.

   She drove to his house, directions scrawled on the back of a
laser-printed to-do list, still trying to relax.

   She arrived at the address and walked up to the front door of a small,
neat house in a new subdivision.  She knocked.  She couldn't remember the
last time she'd been so nervous.  Her stomach kept flip-flopping.

   He opened the door, stood there smiling.



   "Hello," she said.  "Ready to go to the prom?"

   "Yes, I've got your corsage in here somewhere."

   He was wearing black jeans and a tight black knit shirt, with a dark
blue velvet dress shirt worn loose over it.  His gleaming dark hair fell
behind his shoulders.  She caught the glint of a silver chain around his
neck; she hadn't noticed it at the party.  He smelled good.

   He seemed to be studying her as intently.  "You look very nice," he said
finally, grinning.

   "So do you.  Ready?"

   He nodded.  She walked to the car, feeling his eyes on her.

   An odd silence filled the car once they started driving.  Normally she
would have tried to break the ice, say something funny, tried to fill up
the empty space with pointless babble, but she was oddly content to just
drive and feel excited and nervous, and feel the warmth of him sitting next
to her in the small front seat, and smell his hair and his aftershave.



   Several miles later, a light came on on the instrument panel.  "Dammit,
I need to stop for gas.  I forgot." She pulled into the next gas station
she passed, just before the interstate.  "Want me to get it?" he asked. 
"Nah, I can handle it." She got out of the car, swiped her card, and began
pumping the gas.

   Normally she would have paid more attention to the guy standing on the
other side of the pump, especially since there was no car there and they
were in an iffy part of town, but tonight she was oblivious.  She finished
pumping the gas, put the nozzle back.  Screwed the cap on.  And the next
thing she knew, he was standing right next to her.

   "Hey, baby," he drawled, "Are you s'posed to be a witch or something? 
Halloween's over." She backed up towards the front of the car.  He
followed. He looked about fifty, and unkempt, but not a street person.  He
grinned inanely.  He must be drunk, she realized, smelling his breath.  He
reached for her with a grubby hand and she flinched back out of his reach.
"C'mon, I just wanna talk to you.  You don't hafta to be like that." And
now he was blocking the driver's side door.  She glanced around the
deserted gas station desperately, trying to decide what to do.  She saw the
clerk in the small store, watching a television with his back to her.  The
drunk moved towards her again and she was on the verge of panic,
fight-or-flight reflexes jangling her nervous system.

   And suddenly Kieran was out of the car and swiftly moved up behind the
drunk.

   "Hey," he said casually.



   The drunk turned around, squinting.  "Whathefuck do you want?"

   "I want you to get away from the car."



   "Why?" the drunk asked.

   "So I can kick the shit out of you," Kieran replied.

   Marly hated violence.  "Kieran.." she said, panicking.  "Kieran!" But he
ignored her, not taking his eyes off the drunk.

   The drunk swaggered towards Kieran.  Marly could see the telegraphed
punch coming, gasped and put a hand up to her mouth.

   But Kieran saw it too, and backed away rapidly; then he did something,
so fast that Marly couldn't really see, he just sort of moved in a way that
caused the drunk to fall forward and sprawl hard on the concrete behind the
car.  Then Kieran leaned down, rolled the guy over by one shoulder with his
left hand, and punched him once, hard and fast, in the face, making a
disturbing crunching sound.  Marly gasped again.  The drunk lay still.

   Then Kieran was up and moving towards her rapidly.  She was still
frozen, one hand over her mouth, keys dangling from the other at her side.
He took her arm gently and took the keys away from her, pushed the lock
button, then put his arm around her and walked her around the front of the
car to the passenger door, unlocked it, got her inside, locked it again. 
Walked calmly back around the front of the car to the driver's side, got
behind the wheel, closed and locked his door.

   "I'm really, really sorry," Kieran said as they drove away, "I should
have gotten out when you were pumping the gas." He took her hand in his.

   "It's ok," she said, shaking and trying not to cry.  "I pump my own gas
all the time."

   He squeezed her hand.  "Not in this neighborhood."



   "What did you do to him?  What was that sound?"

   "Broke his jaw."

   She thought about this.  "That gas station has to have surveillance
cameras.  Can't you get arrested for assault or something?"

   "Even if the guy calls the police, even if they bother looking at the
video, which they won't, they'll see that he was coming after you.  They
won't pursue it.  He's shitfaced.  If anything they'll throw him in jail
overnight and he'll get free medical treatment, which he doesn't deserve."



   She couldn't hold it in anymore.  She started crying.  "God, I'm sorry,"
she said.  "I don't cope very well with this kind of thing.  Brings back
some bad memories."

   "Don't apologize.  I should have gotten out.  Damn it, I was just
sitting there daydreaming like an idiot.  Look, do you want to just head
back to my place, at least till you calm down?  I swear this isn't a line,
it's just the closest place I can think of.  I won't try anything."

   "Alright," she said, sniffling.

   He drove them the few miles back to his house.  He was a good driver
even in an unfamiliar car; she usually preferred to drive but he didn't
make her nervous at all.  He held her hand the entire way.

   Back at his house, she followed him up the walk, waited as he unlocked
the door and ushered her inside.  The living room was smallish and neat,
almost a little bare, with three bookcases full of books and a few framed
images that Marly recognized as Hubble telescope shots.  A single tan
overstuffed couch faced the entertainment system.  Computer desk in one
corner, with the usual small piles of papers and CDs.  The kitchen must be
in back.  A staircase led to the second floor.

   "Bathroom's down that hall," he said, gesturing.



   "Thanks."

   Marly closed the bathroom door behind her, set her purse on the counter.
She looked at herself in the mirror.  The tears hadn't done much damage;
she touched up her makeup and brushed her hair, then took a deep breath and
tried to stop thinking about the sound of bone fracturing.

   When she came back to the living room, Kieran was sitting on the couch,
one leg crossed over the opposite knee.  She sat on the opposite end of the
couch, pulled her legs up underneath her.

   "Are you alright?" he asked.

   "Yeah..."

   "You sure?"

   "You hit that guy really hard."

   Kieran sighed.  "It was the only way to put him out fast and get it over
with.  So we could get out of there.  I didn't feel like getting into a
fight tonight, of all nights." He frowned, looking at the floor.  "I didn't
mean to break his jaw.  I was angry.  Lost control." His right hand was
clenched in a fist resting on his knee; he looked at it, consciously flexed
and relaxed his long fingers.

   "You looked like you knew what you were doing, though."

   "I've been training in different martial arts on and off since I was
fifteen."

   She nodded.  She'd figured as much as soon as she'd seen him put the
drunk on the ground.  It explained his grace, the way he carried himself.
Then: "Any reason in particular?"

   "It's good self-discipline.  Not something our generation is known for."
She laughed and he continued.  "And when you're a short guy you have to do
something to balance the odds in your favor."

   "You're not short.  You're taller than I am."

   "I'm five-seven.  For a guy, that's pretty short.  And I was a skinny
little punk in high school.  Other guys don't let you forget it."

   She shrugged.  "Well...  I guess.  It certainly doesn't bother me.  I've
always dated really tall guys and never realized till last weekend how much
more intense that first kiss can be when the other person isn't a foot
taller than you are."

   At the mention of that night, she saw his eyes unfocus for a moment. 
"Yeah..." he said, none too attentively.  She laughed.  "Ready to go?"

   "Hmmm?"

   "To the club.  I spent too much time getting ready tonight to sit around
brooding over drunken scumbags at gas stations."

   "Oh.  Sure, great, let's go."

   ***



   Marly surprised herself by letting Kieran drive again.  Once they were
out on the freeway, he again reached for her hand.  She took delight in the
gesture and the feel of his fingers interlocked with hers.  He ran his
thumb back and forth over the top of hers.

   At the club entrance, she began digging in her purse for the cover
charge, but he had already paid for both of them.  She thought about this,
added up a few other things.  Once inside, as they stood at the edge of the
crowd, she looked up at him pointedly.



   "What?" he asked.

   "How long does it last?"

   "What?  How long does what last?"

   "The Perfect Guy thing."

   "Huh?"

   "Opening beer bottles..  paying for the cover..  opening doors..  being
the perfect gentleman, rescuing the damsel in distress.  Being nice to your
mother.  All that.  When do you turn into the typical guy and start leaving
your socks on the coffee table and forgetting Valentine's Day and
pretending to be violently ill whenever something tedious needs to be done?
When does The Perfect Guy go away?"

   He looked troubled and she was afraid she'd sounded too bitter, too
sarcastic.  Perhaps just crazy.

   "Never," he began.  "That's part of what drove my ex-girlfriend nuts."

   She said nothing, just looked at him, surprised.

   "It's like the first night we met..  sort of met, anyway.  At Claudia's.
Holding the door open for you.  It's just the way I am.  I don't think
about it.  It's not an act.  I don't know why everyone has such a hard time
believing that."

   "And your ex-girlfriend had a problem with this?"

   "She said it was the 90s, women should open their own doors, that it was
a stupid macho thing to do and I was just trying to assert control and
maintain the upper hand.  That it was a passive-aggressive thing.  Or
something like that." He looked at the ground.  "It's not like I tried to
tell her what to do, or was expecting her to quit her job or stay home
barefoot and -- pregnant..." he trailed off.



   "Her loss," she said, smiling.  "Come on, you can buy me a beer.  And
open it."

   Like the three or four other clubs that had been opened in this
building, the present management favored an environment that was unlit,
loud, and crowded with people wearing mostly black clothing; velvet and
latex being the commonest choice of fabrics.  The DJ seemed to be playing a
typical mix of dark electronic music.  A cloud of clove cigarette smoke
hung in air beneath the high ceiling.  They threaded their way through the
packed walkway leading to the main bar near the dance floor.

   At the bar, he ordered and paid for two beers.  He handed one to her. 
"Sorry," he yelled over the music, "The bartender already opened it.  Do
you want me to kick his ass?" Marly just smiled.

   "You want to go out back?  See if Elizabeth and Rick are here?" he
yelled.

   She nodded.  He held out his hand.  She took it and let him lead her
through the next blockade of bodies, and to the back door.  Elizabeth and
Rick were out back in the stone courtyard, same as ever no matter what the
club was named, in a small circle of people Marly mostly recognized.

   "Wow!" exclaimed Elizabeth.  "I didn't expect to see you two actually
show up." She seemed to be inspecting them for signs of damage.  "I don't
see any bite marks."

   "Some of us have self-control," Kieran replied with a smile.

   "What fun is that?" Elizabeth asked.

   "A lot of fun, if you do it right." Still the smile.  He was obviously
used to Elizabeth's tormenting.

   At this point, Marly noticed that her female friends (and a few of the
guys who were of questionable orientation) were definitely giving Kieran
the eye.  It was obvious many of them were seeing him for the first time.
She fought the urge to move closer to him possessively.

   Elizabeth introduced Kieran to those who hadn't met him at the party
last week, and casual chatting commenced, centered around the latest
high-budget, horribly written SciFi movie.  Elizabeth showed off her latest
piercing (left ear, cartilage).  Marly's coworker Jason flagged down a
waitress wearing a schoolgirl kilt and Doc Martens, and made everyone try
some sort of horrible new shots that tasted like licorice.  Marly chased
the shot with sips of the beer, trying not to drink too much too quickly.

   As they both began to relax and enjoy themselves, Kieran slipped an arm
around her shoulder casually and she moved closer to him.  She saw the
eyebrows raise, the furtive glances; people taking note of their first real
public display of affection and adding up the implications; especially
those who had been present for the Trivial Pursuit game last weekend.  Only
Elizabeth displayed absolutely no reaction, but Marly knew she noticed. 
She noticed, and remembered, everything.  "But," she had told Marly once,
drunkenly, "I use my powers for good not evil."

   Half an hour later, Marly recognized an old Peter Murphy song, and most
of the crowd in the courtyard began moving to the door.  "Goth magnet,"
Rick commented.  "Come on," Elizabeth said.  "I want to dance to this.  You
know you like this song." They got up.



   Actually," Kieran said to Marly, "I haven't heard this in a long time.
Hell, I haven't gone out in a long time.  I think I'm going to dance too.
Want to join me?"

   "I'll meet you in a minute, I'm going to stop at the ladies room first."

   As the entered through the back door, he bowed and held the door open
for her.  She took the cue and curtsied smoothly, grinning like a maniac.

   They followed the flow of bodies through the back door and back into the
smoke and music inside.  Marly veered away from the main current in the sea
of bodies, headed off the restroom.  She'd been too nervous to eat dinner,
and the first beer had already made its way through her system.  She was
beginning to catch the buzz she'd been unable to get last weekend.



   On the way out of the bathroom, she bumped into Elizabeth, who pulled
her back in.

   "So, how's it going?" Elizabeth asked.  "You two look disgustingly good
together."

   Marly smiled, felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.  "So far so good. 
He's a little quiet, though.  He's not secretly an axe murderer, is he?"

   Elizabeth smiled and shook her head.  "He's just been through a lot. 
Probably still a little scared.  Trust me, he's a great guy.  I don't know
two people I'd rather see get together.  I knew if I tried to manipulate
the situation, you'd both get all stubborn on me; I'm really glad you hit
it off."

   Marly just smiled.

   "But I'm not going to get any details yet, am I?" Elizabeth laughed and
hugged her.

   On the edge of the large dance floor, she spotted Kieran towards the
back, near the mirrored wall.  Watched him a moment, to see if he was a
decent dancer.  A lot of guys weren't.  Then she opened her mouth, took a
deep breath, closed it again.  And continued to watch.  He was graceful,
totally at ease, unselfconscious..

   Finally, she made her way out onto the floor, moving in time with the
music and bodies but not really dancing yet, not till she got close to his
space on the floor.  Then he saw her and smiled briefly, went back to his
dance.  She danced too then, losing herself in the music and the darkness
and the sense of strangers around her, all lost in their own dances.

   The song ended.  The DJ had left a few seconds' silence in between. 
Marly and Kieran stood staring at each other, waiting for the next song to
start, deciding whether to continue dancing.  A slow, heavy beat started.
It took a second for Marly to recognize it: Front Line Assembly, Unknown
Dreams.



   Paying more attention to each other than their dancing now.  Not
touching, but staring, eyes wide.  The movements of his body reminded her
of the night last weekend, strong arms holding her while he kissed her.

   'Forever...  and ever...  tomorrow may never come.'

   He was gorgeous.  She suddenly wanted him, badly, in a way she'd been
too nervous to feel till now.  She wanted to possess him.  She'd never
thought that about anyone before.  He was looking at her as though he was
having similar thoughts.

   As the song ended, Kieran held out a hand her direction in a gesture
that was becoming familiar.  She walked to him and took his hand.  His grip
tighter than before, he led her through the crowd ringing the dance floor,
past another bar, to a small dim hallway leading to a fire exit.  There
were a few small groups of people standing there talking.  He ignored them.
So did she.  He took off the velvet shirt.  Dropped it on the ground, but
Marly hardly noticed.  She was awed by the sight of his torso under the
tight black t-shirt.  His chest and arms were slim but finely muscled and
proportioned, lithe and solid.

   Saying nothing, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her against
the wall.  Her breathing became shallow instantly, memory of last week.  He
leaned bodily against her this time before kissing her, resting his
forearms against the wall above her head.  Stared into her eyes, his pupils
dilated.  She was ready for it this time, though; she felt him tense and
she met him halfway, pushing back against him, arms around his neck as
their lips met.  A week's worth (or was it five years' worth?) of
anticipation exploded between them.  He controlled the pace of the kissing
again, but she dug her nails into his back through the thin fabric of his
shirt, moved her body against his.  Ran her hands along his arms, felt the
muscle ripple.  Felt his reaction.

   Then he ended the kiss, breathing hard.  With his right hand he brushed
a loose wisp of hair back from her face, then traced his fingertips lightly
down her cheek.  Ran his index finger along her lower lip, and suddenly
that was it, she'd had enough.  She grabbed his hand, brought it back to
her mouth, sucked his index slowly into her mouth to the first joint, never
breaking eye contact with him.  Slid her tongue around the soft ball of his
fingertip.  Bit gently, then harder.  Pulled it out.  Sucked it in again.
He was breathing open-mouthed now, staring at her with slightly unfocussed
eyes.  Then they kissed again.  She was feeling an unfamiliar heat, a
throbbing between her legs, a level of arousal halfforgotten in the last
few apathetic years with Craig.

   Breaking the kiss, she put her arms around him and laid her head against
his shoulder, face against his neck.  They just stood there like that a
minute, breathing against each other, knowing they were in public and
trying to calm down.  She put her face up to his ear, whispered "Can we go
back to your place?"

   He disengaged from her, held her at arms length, looked at her intently.
"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked.

   "I'm not really sure what I want," she admitted.  "But I don't want to
find out standing in this hall."

   He smiled.  Retrieved his shirt from the floor, put it back on.  Took a
breath.  "We have to say goodbye to Elizabeth and Rick, you know."

   "Yeah."

   The group was back at the courtyard.

   "We're heading out," Kieran announced, holding Marly's hand, finally
failing to sound casual for once.

   Elizabeth actually restrained herself.  "Ok, have fun.  Drive safely."
She waved them off, went back to her conversation with a girl with a shaved
head and a pierced septum.  The rest of the small group waved distractedly.


   ***

   Kieran drove again, after opening the car door for her and closing and
locking it behind her.  They spoke little, clasped hands resting together
on the center console.

   Back at his house, she waited this time for him to open her car door. 
Then she reached into the back seat and pulled out a duffel bag.  He raised
his eyebrows.  "I'd hate to think I was a foregone conclusion," he said in
mock offense, smiling.  "Will you still respect me in the morning?"

   "Settle down," she said.  "I expected to be spending the night at
Elizabeth's, since her house is a lot closer to downtown.  But for now I'd
like to take off my makeup and throw on a t-shirt, if that's Ok with you."

   "Of course.  My apologies."

   They walked into the house, Kieran closing and locking the door behind
them.  Marly set her bag down, and turned and looked at him.  He smiled and
leaned back against the door, waiting to see what she would do next.  She
walked up to him and reached up, put her hands on either side of his head,
her splayed fingers in his hair, and kissed him very softly, just a slight
flicker of her tongue.  When he reached to pull her closer, she twisted
away out of his reach, grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom,
laughing.

   "You'll pay for that," he called after her.



   After she'd changed into shorts and a t-shirt and taken off her makeup,
she sat next to him on the couch.  He had changed too, into plain blue
jeans and a faded grey tshirt.  "Well," she said.  "This is the real me, no
makeup."

   He leaned over and kissed her softly, once.  "You're beautiful," he
said. Kissed her again.  On a sudden impulse, and maybe because of the
alcohol, she climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, facing him on the
couch.  He looked a little surprised but wrapped his forearms arms around
her lower back.  She leaned down and kissed his lips, then worked her way
down to his neck, kissing softly, then biting.  He stiffened, his breathing
quickening slightly.  She slid her hands up inside the sleeves of his
t-shirt, feeling his smooth biceps, shoulders.  He reached up and grabbed
the back of her neck to pull her to him for a kiss.  Playfully she shrugged
off his hands, grabbed his wrists and pushed them back against the couch,
held them there while she went back to kissing his neck.

   But suddenly he reversed the situation, grabbed her by the wrists and
pushed both arms behind her back, held them.  Now she sat atop him, arms
pinned behind her arched back, breasts jutting up into the air.

   He smiled up at her.  "You don't really want to play this game, do you?"
he asked in a low voice, "You'll lose."

   She considered.  Tried to free her arms and couldn't.

   "I could scream," she suggested.

   "I don't think you will," he said.

   "It's kind of hard for you to kiss me in this position, so you lose
anyway," she said smugly, and rocked on top of him slowly, teasing, feeling
his erection growing.



   He seemed to consider a moment.  Suddenly, somehow, he maneuvered her
off his lap, to one side, and onto the couch, deftly repositioning their
bodies so that instead of sitting on the couch and being straddled by her,
they both lay lengthwise on the couch, only now he was on top, supporting
part of his weight on one elbow.  It had all happened so quickly it took
Marly a moment to realize he also had her wrists pinned above her head. 
With one hand.



   He gave it a moment to sink in, then placed the other hand on the side
of her neck and kissed her.

   "I win", he whispered.

   "Don't get too used to it," she whispered back.

   He just smiled, the faint lines at the corners of his eyes becoming more
prominent.

   He kissed her again, and slowly relaxed his grip on her wrists as their
lips parted slowly and tongues met.  Her hands free, she slid her arms up
and around his back, trailed her nails across the fabric covering his
shoulderblades.  His weight on her was solid and perfect.

   Marly was not the type to jump into bed with someone immediately, not
for any particular moral reasons but because it took her a while to get
comfortable and relaxed around a new person.  But any nervousness she might
have felt with Kieran was swept away by the intense attraction she felt for
him, by the fact that it was clearly reciprocal, by his confidence.



   Kieran relaxed and settled more of his weight on her.  She wrapped her
legs around the backs of his, heels on the backs of his knees, pulling him
closer, rubbing against him deliciously, feeling his erection again.

   "Mmm..." she murmured around his tongue.

   "That sounds even better in person than on the phone," he said huskily,
breaking the kiss only long enough to mouth the words.

   Body against body, tongues intertwined, her fingers once again buried in
his hair.  Still fully clothed, but moving against each other in an
unmistakable manner, Marly feeling the denim of Kieran's jeans against her
bare thighs.  She felt she was melting against him.  She made up her mind
on some level, and began to reach down to pull his shirt up over his
shoulders...

   The phone rang.

   The kiss broke abruptly, and Kieran lay there for a few heartbeats,
catching his breath.  She hadn't realized how heavily they were both
breathing until now.  The house seemed very quiet in contrast; no other
noises except their labored breathing and the phone.  Still ringing.

   Kieran carefully levered himself up and off Marly and the couch.  Marly
sat up.  He walked to the computer desk and yanked the cordless handset
from its cradle.

   "What?!" he yelled into the handset abruptly, and Marly stifled a laugh.

   "Oh...  hi..  Sorry, been getting lots of telemarketers tonight.  How
was your flight?...  Great.  Um, look, I was in the middle of something,
can I call you back tomorrow?..." Kieran paused, laughed.  "Yes, as a
matter of fact, I do...  No, don't worry...  Ok, talk to you then... 
'night."

   He hung up the phone, paused a second, then disconnected the line from
the back of the base.  Then he turned to Marly, smiling and running his
hands through his hair, getting it back behind his shoulders.

   "Mom", he said.

   "Figured as much," replied Marly.  "They always have great timing."

   "She asked if I had 'some girl' here with me.  At least she let me off
the phone once I admitted it."

   Marly smiled.  "Very considerate of her."

   Kieran sat down on the couch next to Marly, grabbed a loose cushion
absentmindedly.

   He took a deep breath, exhaled.  "Well," he began, "Was that a
mood-breaker or what?"

   Marly laughed.  "You could say that.  As soon as I can stop mentally
picturing your mother glaring at me, I'll let you know."

   "Ah, she's pretty cool, just a bit protective after what I went through
with Janine."

   "Elizabeth told me a little about it," Marly ventured.  "Sounded pretty
grim."

   "Yeah, well...  it didn't do much for my faith in humanity, but I've
tried not to let it get me down too much.  No big deal." He had a placid
expression on his face, but he stared at the carpet.

   Marly suddenly realized he had done a very good job so far of hiding
just how bad the situation must have been.  She looked at him squarely, put
a tentative hand on his forearm and said in a low, controlled tone, "Do you
want to talk about it"?

   It's ok, I mean it, she thought.  You can talk to me about it.  I can
see it, still in there eating at you.

   He looked up at her.  She saw the moment he chose to let some of his
guard down.  He smiled ruefully.  "Not tonight," he said, "We've had enough
interruptions.  But soon, probably."

   "Deal.  Sometimes it's good to get this stuff out, you know."

   "Hey, I'm a guy, we're not supposed to admit to even having emotions in
the first place."

   Marly laughed and rolled her eyes.  "Sure, whatever."



   A stray wisp of hair had fallen down into Kieran's face.  She leaned
over and Ebrushed it away, then put her arms around his neck and leaned her
head against his shoulder.  He put an arm around her, and eventually, by
stages, she ended up sitting with her legs draped crosswise over his lap,
their arms wrapped around each other; not kissing, just enjoying the
contact, faces buried in each other's hair.

   "You smell so good," Marly said, nuzzling Kieran's neck.

   "So do you, " he answered.  "I could sit here all night like this."

   "Mmm ..." Marly agreed.  Then she shivered; it was getting colder
outside and she was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts.  Goosebumps rose on
her arms.

   Kieran hugged her tighter, then whispered "Sleep here tonight.  With me.
Don't leave.  " She stiffened slightly in surprise, and he quickly added,
"No strings attached.  I just bought a new bed, it's about the size of
Montana.  You won't even know I'm there -" By this time, Marly was trying
to kiss him to shut him up, but he managed to continue, "and you can even
have all the good pillows."

   ***

   Marly followed Kieran up the stairs to a single master bedroom.  He
wasn't joking; the king-sized bed looked like it belonged in a furniture
showroom surrounded by huge, rough-hewn oak furniture and track lighting
and annoying salespeople.  It was, however, comfortingly un-made; so far
his house had been very tidy and she wasn't sure she could handle a
neat-freak.  She spotted an open door to the master bathroom, carried her
bag in.

   "Wow," she called, "Nice bathtub!" It seemed to have been built on the
same scale as the bed.

   Kieran appeared in the doorway.  "Yeah, I never use it.  It comes
standard with the houses in this development."

   Heck, one of us could just sleep in there."

   "Great idea," he replied, "Goodnight," and exited the bathroom, closing
the door behind him.

   "Hey!!" No response.  She laughed and turned to brush her teeth.



   When she came back into the bedroom, Kieran was sitting up on the bed,
ankles crossed, leaning back against the headboard, still wearing his
t-shirt and jeans.  He held a remote control.  An armoire that Marly had
assumed must contain a television was open, revealling a small stereo
system instead; she recognized Delerium, and said so.

   "It's nice background music," he said.

   She agreed.  "I listen to it sometimes when I can't sleep."

   Marly walked around the bed to the side opposite Kieran, climbed under
the blankets.  Feeling a little silly, like she was twelve years old and at
a sleepover at a friend's house, she burrowed down and pulled the blankets
up.

   "Goodnight," she said cheerfully.



   Kieran took the cue, got under the blankets on his side, reached up and
turned off the bedside lamp.  "'Night."

   Now they lay in the dark, not touching, on opposite sides of the huge
bed.  The delicate electronic music floating through the darkness seemed to
grow louder in the suddenly awkward silence.

   Marly, the car rides notwithstanding, didn't deal well with awkward
silences.

   "Do you always sleep wearing jeans?  Just curious," she asked.

   "Only when there are strange women in my bed."

   "What?!  I may be a little...  unusual...  but I think 'strange' is
pushing it.  Besides, you asked me to.  And furthermore--"



   "Can you keep it down?" he interrupted, "I'm trying to sleep."

   "Oh, pardon me, I'm sure." She said, feigning aggrievance.

   "Thanks."

   She kept quiet, determined to force him to make the next move.  She
waited.  And waited.  Just when she was starting to wonder if he actually
had fallen asleep, he spoke.

   "So, are you ticklish?" he asked.

   "Wouldn't you like to know."

   "I could find out."

   "Trying to *sleep*, do you mind?"

   Silence.

   Then she felt him moving towards her, decided to catch him off guard,
and reached for where his ribs should be.  A full-on, wrestling tickle
fight ensued.  Before long, Marly ended up pinned beneath Kieran again,
reminded again how strong he was.  She worked out with weights and
considered herself to be fairly strong for her smallish frame, but she had
no chance against his wiry muscles.

   Both of them laughing, Marly gasping for breath as he reached down to
tickle the back of one of her knees, she tried to escape again.  "Listen,"
she said in mock seriousness, "don't make me hurt you."

   This provoked even more laughter from him.  "Bring it on."

   "I will, when you least expect it...  *Stop* that!" she shrieked.  He
had found a super-ticklish spot on the side of her ribcage.



   He stopped, leaned over her, wrists pinned above her head again.  "You
really-" he said, as she pretended to struggle, futilely, "-need to stop
moving around so much."

   He kissed her, and this time the heat between them flared up instantly,
like that first night at the party, kissing violently, passionately, almost
mindlessly.  Longing and attraction and frustration and months of
loneliness ignited between them.  They clung to each other as though they
were in danger of being swept away.

   This time there would be no interruptions.  Marly reached down and
pulled Kieran's shirt up, past his shoulders; he sat back on his heels and
pulled it the rest of the way off.

   Marly's eyes had adjusted to the darkness now, broken by a streetlight
making patterns through the venetian blinds, and his chest was beautiful,
smooth and flat and hairless like a teenager's, with small nipples.  Marly
sat up and ran her hands down his bare biceps, feeling her eyes grow heavy,
breathless with desire.

   "Your turn," he said softly, and reached down to pull her shirt up.  She
raised her arms as he peeled the shirt off, then lay back.  She had taken
her bra off when she'd changed earlier; she was now naked to the waist. 
Her breasts were just a little too large for her frame, and she was
sometimes self-conscious about her large nipples.  But Kieran just gazed at
down her with a rapt expression.

   He reached down with both hands and gently trailed just his fingertips
across her nipples and aereolae.  She gasped, and her nipples grew even
harder.  Then he leaned over her and began sucking on her right nipple,
teasing it with his teeth, fingertips on the other, and she was soon
writhing and moaning.

   He lay on her again, and again she could feel his erection through his
jeans.  She was so turned on by this point that she moaned and instintively
began writhing and rubbing herself against him.  He started breathing a
little harder.

   Suddenly he stopped.  She lay there, gasping for breath.  "You need to
calm down a little, I think.  Let's get you out of the rest of those
clothes".

   She reached down to help, but he grabbed her hands, startling her,
pushed them back over her head.  He leaned closer, whispered in her ear, "I
didn't say you could do that." She struggled with him a little, because she
wanted to feel his strong hands restraining her again.

   He pulled her shorts off, then carressed her vulva through the damp
fabric of her panties, just missing her clitoris every time.  Her breathing
picked up again.  She tried to arch up with her pelvis, to get his fingers
in the right spot.

   "What do you want?" he asked.

   "Please..  touch me," she whispered.

   He began rubbing her clitoris through her panties with the ball of his
thumb, a gentle side-to-side motion.

   "Harder?" he asked.

   "Yes..  please." Arching her back.

   "No." He stopped.  She whimpered and exhaled, frustrated.  Then she felt
him back up and finally remove panties.  She was completely naked now. 
Pausing for a moment, he pulled out a rubber band out of his pocket, got
his hair back out of the way.

   With a hand on one thigh, he spread her legs gently.  Then approached
her from the side, leaned over and tentatively touched the tip of his
tongue to her swollen clitoris.  She moaned and arched her back again.  He
flicked his tongue rhythmically and she felt herself already approaching
orgasm.

   But he stopped flicking, and instead sucked her clitoris gently between
his lips.  He slid a hand underneath her buttocks, thrust a long finger all
the way into her vagina.  It slipped in easily, and he began fucking her
with it while he sucked.  Then a second finger joined the first.  He found
her G-spot and massaged it gently.  Normally she required more direct and
constant stimulation to achive orgasm orally, but she was already close;
the sucking and motions of his fingers were pushing her to the edge...

   And then he stopped.  She whimpered.  "Relax," he said.  A hand on her
stomach, pushing her arched back down against the bed.  "Breathe.  I mean
it, relax all your muscles.  Breathe.  There, that's better.  Try to stay
relaxed." And he started again, licking gently this time, two fingers
inside her again but not moving.  He moved his tongue over her clitoris in
slow circular motions.  Excruciatingly slow.  And yet she could feel the
orgasm building again.  She had never been able to come with this kind of
slow stimulation before.  She began to tense her thighs again, her back,
working towards the orgasm...  And he stopped again.  "Relax." Nearly
sobbing with frustration, she complied, willing her muscles into slackness,
trying to control her breathing.  He began again.

   The pattern repeated itself several times.  Each time she got a little
closer to orgasm before she tensed up and he stopped and ordered her to
relax.  Each time he made his movements a little more slow, more gentle. 
It began to seem like she was hanging indefinitely on the edge of orgasm,
the peak just before, and the small part of her brain that was still
coherent wondered if this was what he was intentionally trying to achieve.

   After an eternity on that edge, her muscles perfectly slack this time,
her breathing slow and measured with only an occasional ragged gasp, she
felt the orgasm coming, unstoppable this time.  "Oh god," she groaned. 
"I'm going to come.." And then she was over the edge.  He sucked her
clitoris between his lips again, kept sucking gently througout her orgasm.
No one had ever done that before.  The sensation was indescribably erotic.
She had never screamed during orgasm before either; now she did.  Her
vagina pulsed around his fingers, her body spasmed.  It went on and on.  He
held onto her hips, sucking gently and steadily.

   Finally, her orgasm subsided, he stopped, gently withdrew his fingers.
She was thankful for that, she was usually very sensitive right after
orgasm.  Small aftershocks made her twitch.

   He leaned over and kissed her then, and she eagerly accepted his lips
and his tongue.  His chest was cool and smooth against her breasts.  Then
he gently massaged her wrists while she sighed with pleasure.  Her whole
body felt limp.

   He laid next to her, pulled her over on her side to face him, put one
arm under her head.  She moved up against him closer, relishing the feel of
his bare skin contrasting with the jeans he still wore.  He put his free
hand on the side of her neck and kissed her gently for a few moments.  Then
he stopped and said "I'm going to fuck you now.  I can't wait any more." It
was a simple, sincere statement.  It was not a question.  There was no
hesitancy or doubt in his voice and he was not expecting an answer.

   He stood back up and removed the last of his clothing.  She watched
curiously; he was graceful even in something as mundane and awkward as the
first undressing in front of a new lover.  He opened a nightstand drawer,
and she heard the rip of a condom package.  She closed her eyes then.  Felt
him draw the blankets off her, and she shivered again, but then he kneeling
over her, laying on top of her, his body warming her, kissing her again but
not entering her.  Finally, they were both naked together, skin to skin. 
The moment she'd tried to picture a hundred times since that first night.

   She reached down and pulled the blankets up over both of them; they were
both shaking and she wasn't sure how much of it was because of the cold. 
They kissed more, her fingers tracing patterns on his back, running through
his hair.  She kissed his neck, shoulder, bit the flesh near his
collarbone. Dug her nails into his back.  She was finally able to retaliate
a little, and took full advantage of it.  His breathing grew ragged.  She
could feel his erect penis, encased in the condom, straining towards her.

   He moved to enter her.  She reached down to guide him, and discovered
for the first time, by feel, how large he was.  She took a deep breath and
guided his penis to her, then brought her hand back up and held on to the
backs of his shoulders.

   He entered her slowly, by degrees.  She was aroused but he was large and
very hard, and it had been nearly a year since she'd had sex.  He would
enter a little, back out slightly, then push farther ahead.  Every muscle
in their bodies tensed in anticipation.

   Finally, he was all the way inside her.  They both relaxed, and he
kissed her again, just staying inside her for now, not moving.  She
returned the kiss, splayed fingers in his hair, heels again on the backs of
his knees, enraptured with the moment and the feeling of having him inside
her at last.  He levered up on one elbow for a moment, took his other hand
and raised her arm up above her head on the pillow.  But he merely laid his
arm on top of hers and interlocked his fingers with hers.

   Then he began to move, slowly at first, small increments.  They were
both moaning around each others' tongues as they kissed.  He increased the
movement by degrees.  Slowly, so slowly.  She wanted more, knew from
experience now that she would not get it till he was ready.  He withdrew
almost completely, then thrust back inside her all the way.  She begin
moving her hips against him, in time with his slow assault, and he moaned
louder.  She had never had a man make noise like that during sex, and she
loved it.  Finally he settled into a steady pace and they rocked against
each other.

   Eventually Kieran began fucking her in long, deep strokes, harder and
harder.  She felt herself nearing orgasm.  She could rarely orgasm through
intercourse alone, and she held onto the feeling, refusing to let it go. 
Then she balanced on the egde, waiting for him.  "Please," she whispered in
his ear, feeling the sweat along his back, "Please, I'm going to come soon.
Please come with me.  Please." The last word was part moan, and then she
lost control, started coming.  And a moment later Kieran's orgasm started,
she could feel it, hear him moaning.  They both seemed to orgasm for a long
time, and the time after that spent in small, shuddering aftershocks,
catching their breath, seemed to take even longer.

   Finally they were both quiet.  Kieran withdrew from her carefully,
headed to the bathroom.  Marly rolled over on her side, breathing deeply.
Kieran came back to bed and put his arm around her from behind.  She moved
back against him, sighed.

   "That was much better than a first time with someone is supposed to be,"
remarked Kieran eventually.

   "Mmmmm..." said Marly.



   They were quiet again for a moment.

   "Marly..." Kieran began

   "Yes?" she asked, more alert.

   "I just wanted you to know..  I've wanted you for a long time, ever
since I used to see you with Craig.  Before I ever made the connection to
Claudia's." Marly was surprised at this revelation, but said nothing, let
him continue.  "I used to fantasize about holding you down like I did
tonight.  You always seemed so much in control, and I knew somehow that
what you really needed was someone else to take control away from you for a
while.  That's why I never spoke to you back then, I knew I would never be
able to hide how attracted I was to you, and that if you felt the same we'd
be in trouble."

   Marly rolled over to face him and they shifted until they were
comfortable again, legs and arms intertwined.  "I wish I could say it was
mutual," Marly began awkwardly, "but I hardly saw you back then.  Other
than the back of your head."

   "I know, it was intentional.  It's ok."

   Marly paused.  Then: "Do you want to tell me about Janine now?"

   Kieran sighed.  "Fine, catch me in a weak moment.  Ok, here we go. 
Everything was fine with Janine for the first couple of years, or so I
thought.  We didn't have a whole lot in common, but I loved her.  I was
paying for her college, we were going to buy a house together after she
graduated, the whole nine yards.

   'About a year and a half ago, someone started anonymousy forwarding me
emails between Janine and this other guy.  I couldn't figure out what was
going on at first, then it became obvious.  I didn't confront her about it,
just kept watching these messages come in...  I was pretty much in shock.
After a few weeks, I'd seen enough to know they were the real thing; Janine
would refer to conversations and arguments we'd had the night before... 
usually while saying what a control-freak asshole I was.  I guess getting
her college paid for was worth putting up with me.  Anyway, I just kept
reading this stuff, every day, without doing anything about it.  It's hard
to explain why.  I think in a way, I was punishing myself for having
trusted her...  Trying to hurt myself enough that I would never trust
anyone again.  I turned into sort of a zombie, but if I was acting any
different outwardly, she didn't notice.

   'So finally one day about a month later I'm reading their daily
correspondence, and I see this thread start up that doesn't make much sense
- until I realize that she must be pregnant.  She's talking about how she
doesn't believe in abortion, so she's going to have the kid, but she has to
stay with me long enough for me to finish paying for her college.  So they
agree that she's going to tell me the kid is mine, until she graduates,
which at that point was about five months away, and then move out after
graduation, move in with the other guy, have the kid with him... 
Emotionally speaking I sunk to a new low at that point, but I'd also had
enough.

   'When I came home that night, she asked if we could go out to a
restaurant, and I agreed, knowing what was coming.  She drops the bomb on
me, tells me how much she loves me, how she wants to keep the baby, et
fucking cetera...  Apologizes for not treating me well recently.  You can
imagine.  So finally, she looks at me and says "Well?", and I just said
'You have two choices.  You can either get a DNA paternity test.  Or you
can move out tomorrow.  Your decision.'"

   "Wow," said Marly softly.

   "Yeah, wow.  She just stared at me in total shock.  I thought she would
try to strangle me right there in the restaurant.  But in the end she
decided to hedge her bets; she got it under control, said she was very hurt
that I didn't trust her, and that she would get the test and expected a
full apology when I turned out to be wrong.  She even managed to start
crying.  An accomplished actress if nothing else."

   "Why on earth would she agree to go along with the test if she knew it
wasn't yours?"

   "A few reasons, I think.  First of all, it bought her a little time. 
Secondly, there was a possibility it was mine, or so she thought.  But I
knew something she didn't."

   "What's that?"

   "The only time I could have gotten her pregnant..  The very last time we
had sex, before I started getting the email, I faked my orgasm."

   Marly burst out laughing.  "What?  What kind of woman can't tell whether
a guy is really having an orgasm?"

   "What, you've never faked one and gotten away with it?"

   "Well, um...  maybe.  But it's different with a guy, there's the matter
of, uh, ejaculation?"

   "She was also drunk, and passed out right afterwards without getting up.
And, in retrospect, she wasn't too bright."

   "You weren't using any other kind of birth control?" Marly asked.

   "She was on the pill.  From what I gathered from the email, she forgot
to take a few pills that month."

   "So the kid STILL could have been yours, even if you didn't actually
come..  you remember what they taught us in high school, right?"

   "Yeah, but it was a risk I was willing to take.  Anyway, we went and did
the tests a few weeks later.  Gotta love modern technology; if you've got
the cash they can do the tests at 10 weeks of pregnancy.  And I wanted it
over with.

   'They mailed us the results, but I think she took them and threw them
away before I saw them.  I just went to the office and got a copy.  Kid
wasn't mine.  So I took the next few days off from work, and while she was
in class I moved all her stuff out to the garage, and changed all the door
locks.  I left the garage door open with the test results taped to the
front of one of the boxes."

   "What did she do?" Marly asked.

   "I'm not sure.  I basically spent the next three days locked up in the
house, with the music blasting most of the time so I couldn't hear her
knocking.  Unplugged the phone.  Didn't check my email.  And finally I went
out one morning and all her stuff was gone.  She'd left this ripped-up
picture of us in the middle of the garage floor.

   'Then I went inside and emailed Elizabeth and told her that I'd thrown
the bitch out and she didn't have to forward me the messages anymore."

   Marly laughed.  "Yeah, I had a feeling it was Elizabeth, but I didn't
want to say it.  Janine's email account was on one of Elizabeth's servers?"

   "Yeah.  And Elizabeth doesn't give a shit about ethics when it comes to
protecting her friends.  I don't think she would have arbitrarily snooped
on Janine's email, she probably saw the two of them together somewhere and
then decided to look into it.  I don't know; she never responded and we've
never discussed it.  But I didn't get any more forwarded messages."

   Marly hugged Kieran tighter.  "I'm sorry you had to go through all that.
I'm glad you decided to trust someone again."

   "I didn't really decide," he said.  "I didn't have any control over it."




   Marly pulled Kieran closer and kissed him deeply.

   They made love again, slowly this time; changing positions several
times, getting to know each other's bodies more closely.

   And then they talked until the sun came up.



   <1st attachment end>

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