Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Enough to Call Down the Stars
Summary: Cousins Tony and Claire fall in love, face an ugly surprise.
Keywords: inc,fic
   I had just inherited control of one of the world's largest IT companies.
Curled up in bed with me was my co-owner, the most beautiful woman in the
west.  Tall and stately, with gorgeous breasts, a swinging ass and legs
that went on forever.  We were getting into our final round of lovemaking
for the night.  I was a rampant stallion.  As I rose to once more plunder
the willing body of this ornament of the corporate world, I was called to
solve yet another world-threatening emergency.
   I smacked the alarm off.  God, I wished the world resembled my dreams.
   In fact, I had just inherited control of an IT company, from my uncle,
but it was a local firm that dealt mostly with computer sales and
servicing. I'd been working for it for three years, now, ever since I got
my degree in electrical engineering - technician, from the two-year program
at the community college.  Ah well, it had been enough to get me started.
We hadn't expected Uncle Zeb to die on us, but there wasn't much any of us
could do about the drunk who took him, and Aunt Rose, out in a crosswalk
violation.  It was illegal as hell, but the drunk had lost an argument with
the light pole across the way from the crosswalk, so it was kind of hard to
get vengeance.  At least there had been some insurance, which would help
make life a little easier for Zeb's daughter Claire, though I had my doubts
she'd be able to make it through med school, the way she had planned.  At
twenty-two, a couple of years younger than me, she was supposed to start
med school in the fall.  She'd been admitted, to a good school if not the
best, and Mom and I and Claire were all doing our best to scratch up the
necessary for her.  It wasn't easy.
   Unfortunately, Zeb had let the business run down some, and the bank debt
was higher than the business could easily carry.  We were on cash on
delivery with a couple of suppliers, and that made it difficult to maintain
inventory since there wasn't too much cash lying around.  Claire had put
her med school tuition fund back into the business and I'd stopped taking a
salary, but things were still pretty tight.
   Claire is the co-owner, 49%.  Unfortunately, my cousin Claire is not
tall, busty or particularly ornamental.  Nor is there a chance in hell that
she'd be caught dead in bed with me.  Actually, she once told me that dead
is the only way she'd ever be caught in bed with me.  Two sides of the same
coin: she still hated me.  Despised might be a more accurate term.  Didn't
appreciate my sterling qualities, my mother might have said, if we hadn't
quarreled so vehemently a few months back.  Right now I think Mom shared
Claire's views.
Uncle Zeb had been my father's brother.  He acted more like a father to
me, maybe out of some kind of family guilt for the fact my father deserted
Mom about six hours after I was born and then got himself killed in a
barroom brawl on the West Coast two months later.  Made it hard to collect
child support.  There was a pension and a death benefit, but they were both
small.  Dad was a type you paid to have killed, rather than the kind of man
people regretted seeing shuffle off this mortal coil, or so I was always
told.  People went to his funeral to make sure he was dead.
   Aunt Rose was a second mom to me, and I needed her since Mom had to work
two jobs to keep us fed and warm.  Well, not warm, exactly; more like not
too cold.  The pension stopped when I was eighteen, which didn't make me
any too much beloved around home.
   Claire was really about five five, skinny, with little A-cup breasts,
not much in the way of an ass and legs that were too short for her body. 
And an attitude.  Did Claire have an attitude.  I'd heard people refer to
her as sweet, gentle, kind and nurturing, but I'd never seen hide nor hair
of it.  She thought of me as a mix of some kind of serf or slave and the
dirt on the floor.  Her feelings for me went back a long ways, well before
her parents' deaths, and they hadn't improved any.  Disdain is an
appropriate word.
   I probably had a loose connection in my noggin, since I thought Claire
was a sexy piece of goods.  I am told by my friends that my attitude
requires a whole new definition of the term "sexy", one that shares almost
nothing with the definition they normally used.  Maybe it was just that she
was unattainable.  When pushed, my friends would admit that Claire was
actually cute, somewhere under all the freckles, had a temper to go with
the red hair - they hadn't seen sweet etc.  either - and might have had a
decent ass hidden under the baggy jeans, but might not.  No one ever
claimed to have seen it, even at the beach.
   Part of Claire's "charm" was that now and then she'd be really nice to
me.  Friendly, I mean, not coming on to me or anything.  It happened
alternate Shrove Tuesdays, I thought.  It was nice while it lasted.  She
had a lovely smile.
   All this went rather quickly through my head as I performed my morning
ablutions.  Once I thought I'd be a poet, and spent a lot of time with
those Reader's Digest "Pays to Increase Your Word Power" features, but Mom
made me get qualified in something that might, given my proclivity for
goofing off, occasionally produce a dollar.  I sent Claire a poem once, and
Aunt Rose said it made Claire blush, not something I'd thought she was even
capable of.  On the other hand, how could you tell what was going on under
the freckles?
   I was five ten, a little light at one sixty, sexy as hell with a wild
mane of blonde hair I kept controlled with what used to be called a crew
cut.  At twenty-four I was an undiscovered sexual athlete.  My penis made
girls swoon - well, at least they didn't laugh at it, mostly because almost
none of them had seen it.  Or wanted to.  I guess, to be honest about
myself, not something I'm that prone to, I am a little on the short side of
average, but at least I'm not thick to make up for it.  It's all in
technique, anyway, and even a guy with a two-inch dick is supposed to be
able to pleasure the girls and make them faint dead away.  At least, that's
what he told me.
   All I knew about it was that I'd been with a couple of girls, one more
than once, but not more than three times, and they hadn't complained and
they hadn't been laughing too hard to complain, so I suppose I was
adequate. Or it might just have been that they were as inexperienced as I
was.
   Claire didn't go out much.  A guy might risk her tongue once in a great
while, because he had to have someone to go with or he'd done it on a dare
or something.  They'd never been too happy when they brought her home the
year I stayed with Uncle Zeb and Aunt Rose.  I'd been the one who took her
to her high school graduation prom four years ago.  I guess she got some
points because I was older, lost them because I was her cousin, and lost a
few more because I wasn't gorgeous.  Damn, but she cleaned up awful pretty.
I told her so, but I don't know whether she appreciated what I said, or got
mad because I implied she didn't clean up much, or what.  She mumbled
something that might have been 'thanks' but could as easily have been
'bugger off'.
   The store was downstairs.  I got to use the apartment (room with bath
and a hot plate) over the store as one way to make sure I wasn't too late
for work.  Claire had awakened me with a jug of cold water a couple of
times before I invested in an alarm clock.  The clock reduced my chances of
dying from pneumonia some.
   I got up, cleaned, dressed, fed (a roll and coffee) and down to check
what Earth-saving steps I was required to take that morning.  The answering
machine had one call for Claire from my mother, and there it was, my
opportunity for saving the world.  Mrs.  Perkins needed a new battery for
her laptop.  Again.  I was going to have to teach her how to recharge the
battery in her laptop.  Again.
   I swept by Claire, who held down the store part while I was on service
calls.  I think I might have been happier saving the world if Mrs.  Perkins
hadn't been in her late 60's and a touch dotty, too.
   "Mom called," I advised as I went out.  "I've got to install another
battery for Mrs.  Perkins."
   "All right.  Don't let that maneater slow you down, OK?"
   Heavens, Claire made a joke.  Maybe it was going to be one of the good
days, and Lent didn't start for months and months.
   "Try not to, but you know I can't control my allure."
   I was out before Claire could deliver a cutting response.  I was sure
that she stayed up nights thinking them up.
   I was a good bit longer than I expected.  I swapped out the batteries
and explained that all she needed to do was to leave the computer plugged
in.  If she was going to use the laptop, plugging it in would save wear and
tear on the battery as well.  It wasn't easy.
   "No, Mrs.  Perkins, the wide blade on the plug goes in the big hole in
the outlet.  The longer rectangular hole."
   "I'm quite aware that they didn't make that distinction when you were a
girl, Mrs.  Perkins.  Are you sure they had electricity when you were a
girl?"
   "Oh, they brought it in when you were in your teens.  Come on, Mrs. 
Perkins, you're putting me on.  No one as pretty as you are could possibly
be old enough to have lived before electricity, even out on the farm."
   I actually liked the old bat.
   When I got back to the shop and gave Claire the charge sheet, she was
frowning at a set of notes she seemed to have made from a telephone call.
   "Tony, do you have any idea how computer security works?"
   "I suppose I know the theory.  I don't know how to break in and I don't
know how to keep them out, beyond the standard programs, which are in fact
pretty good if you're careful about password security.  What's the
problem?"
   "Guy called in, wants a computer expert on security."
   "To get in, or to keep them out?"
   "I got the impression he wants into someone's machine, tracelessly, and
then he wants protection for whatever he takes out."
   "If he's going in without permission, he's going to have trouble.  I
know a couple of hackers who could maybe do it, but I'm not connecting them
with him.  It's still a crime to contribute to the delinquency of a minor.
For protection, there's nobody better than Mike.  No way he'll go in
without permission or a court order."
   Mike actually set our systems up.  We referred a lot of stuff his way.
   "Okay, I'll call him back and refer him to Mike.
   "Except for those batteries, are we down on anything, Tony?  I was just
getting ready to put an order in."
   "I think we need some surveillance gear: microcams, a server and massive
storage.  Maybe two sets.  It's the coming thing."
   "How much storage?"
   "You can get a couple of terabytes pretty cheap.  That would be
available in an external hard drive.  You might want to see what they've
got that's even bigger in case we need it."
   "We have almost that much in the office computers, Tony."
   "We want it separate from the hard drive in the machines.  It's the
electronic record that's going to get dragged into court, and you don't
want it to be the one in the computer if you can get around it."
   "Okay, can do.  I hope it moves fast, though.  I don't like having so
much money tied up in inventory."
   "It should.  I'm pretty sure Ivar Peterson is going to want to set up
surveillance cameras, so that'll be one set, I hope, and someone else ought
to follow pretty close.  Claire, there is something else.  I saw an ad for
it a couple of days ago.  Do you think we could swing a couple of those
flying cameras?  The gadget guys will go crazy over them."
   "There seems to be a range, or at least two choices."
   "Get the top of the line.  We've never lost money selling quality."
   Claire held down the fort while I went out to grab us some lunch.  Mom
didn't have time to make us a lunch, and we were usually a little rushed in
the morning.  Claire had insisted we open earlier, at 8:00, to catch the
people on their way to work.  It had increased sales a good bit.  Nearly a
quarter of our sales came in that early morning hour before the other
stores were open.
   About a quarter after one I got back with something for Claire.
   "I'll take the desk for a while, Claire.  If you want a little privacy
you can go upstairs.  I don't lock it when we're in the store.  Have a nap
for an hour, too.  Mom said you were up too late."
   "Thanks, Tony.  Give me a call about three, or if you get called out."
   "Only if it's an emergency."
   I watched as she slowly climbed the back stairs.  She was nearly out on
her feet.  I'd have preferred it if she ate with me, but she'd worked so
late on the books, hoping desperately to make red ink turn black, that I
hadn't the heart to ask.  She didn't much like me anyway, it seemed, but
she'd been warming to me over the past little while we both worked together
to try to save our futures.
   She worried too much, and it bothered me.
   ***
   A few mornings later, after the morning service calls, nothing too
difficult, or even rational in a couple of cases where people tried to use
a wireless mode they hadn't set up for, I dropped into the local coffee
shop for a brew and a doughnut before going back to the store.  Ivar
Peterson was sitting alone, so I stopped by his table.
   "Wondered whether you wanted to talk about the surveillance system,
sir?" I asked.
   "Yeah, sit down and tell me how it works."
   "We've just ordered a set-up kit and some extra bits.  What you do is
set up some cameras.  They can be linked in by wireless or by wire.  If
they're hardwire connected, then you don't need separate power to them. 
Cameras these days are tiny, and cheap.  Same things as the webcams they
hide in laptops, you know."
   "Sounds interesting.  I'm not too cheery about making it obvious that
I'm spying on my customers, but I'm missing inventory.  Does it cost much?"
   I went into the cost details for a while.  I was so wrapped up in a
discussion of the costs and the probable value to his store in reducing
theft - likely nothing in this world would ever eliminate it - we were
joined by Matt Henderson, owner of the biggest hardware store in town.
   "So, Tony," he asked as if he'd been a part of my presentation from the
beginning, "can you adapt that kind of system for a larger store?"
   "Oh sure.  As long as you have a high channel mixer and the correct
software, I imagine you could run as many cameras as you want.  For a lot
of cameras you'd likely need more storage, but that's cheap enough these
days.  The only real problem with a bigger setup is that you need more eyes
to watch the camera feeds.  In your case I'd advise a couple of monitors,
one in the office and one at the cash.  That would let the cashier keep an
eye on people in the store who move out of sight and the other guy can keep
an eye out elsewhere."
   At that point Mr.  Peterson got up.
   "Tony, I have to get back to the store now, but I'd like you to come by
in a couple of days and explain this again.  Then maybe I can see better
just what would be covered and how I keep an eye on everything." The
presentation would work better in the store, anyway, where we could both
see where the cameras should go.
   "Sure.  By then I might have been able to set up a portable
demonstration unit that will let you see exactly what I can do for you."
   "See you maybe Friday or Monday, then."
   "Definitely."
   I shuffled a bit as if I was getting ready to leave myself.
   "Hold on a minute, Tony," Matt requested.  "I'd like to hear how you
think it might work in my store.  You know I'm affiliated with a chain,
well they're my primary supplier and give me name recognition and stuff
even if it's my store.  They've been pushing something called 'Store Lock'
that some consultant can install for them, though it seems pretty pricey."
   "The hardware end of that is usually overpriced, and for installation
they'd have to send someone out for a week.  I use similar software, though
I jig it a bit to suit the individual installation." I suppose I made
something out of what I hadn't yet done, but I did plan to make the
software I used match the installation, and I was pretty sure I knew
exactly how to do it.  Mike had said he'd help out if I had problems.  I
intended to hire him to do a final check if I ever got a contract.
   "We don't charge the same mark-up on the hardware, either, and while
their stuff is good enough, it's not the best.
   "I don't know that they secure the computer you need for a base station
as well as I would, either.  That's why we can do a better installation for
less, though I imagine if I had to go a couple of hundred miles for an
installation and stay over, I'd end up charging nearly as much."
   "I want you to come over to the store if you're finished and talk to me
some more about it.  Will that disrupt your day too much?"
   "No.  I'll come now if you're done."
   "Need a ride?"
   "It's okay, I've got the truck.  See you in a couple of minutes."
   I spent another hour with Matt at the store, running sight lines,
checking out installation sites, talking as well with the store manager. 
Matt didn't manage the store himself.  He had other stores, four more, I
thought, and keeping an eye on each of them meant he gave up day-to-day
management of any particular store.  He had a knack for picking good
people, though.
   Finally we sat down to discuss money.  I listed what I'd need, charged
out at our retail, plus my time to set it up and train staff after -
something too many merchants didn't consider necessary - plus a ten per
cent contingency, and gave him the figure.
   "That's about sixty percent of what I'd be charged, with no training."
   "Training is essential.  As for the cost difference, our labour rates
are probably a little lower and there is no travel or accommodation
expense. Our mark-up on the equipment isn't as high, even with our lower
volume.  The difference is mostly in the time we need: less because we're
local."
   "I appreciate local.  You've been in and out of my store ever since you
moved here.  I'd like to give some of it back, since I have to spend it
anyway, and to someone who'll be here to fix anything that goes bad."
   "I'll give you three years on that."
   "Can you afford it?  The chain's people said ninety days."
   "All that can go wrong is the equipment, and it's good for at least that
long or the company does a free replacement and re-install, so there's not
much risk.  If I mess something up putting it in, I expect to stand behind
it, and it'll likely show up in the first sixty days or so if it does go
wrong."
   "When can you start?"
   "This afternoon.  We'll need to get the rest of the equipment in, but
I've got enough on hand to start."
   "Here's an advance payment." Mike handed over a cheque I knew Claire
would be pleased with.  "I know you can't finance too much inventory at
this stage in the development of your business, and I want you to be
committed to my installation first."
   "Can do.  See you after lunch."
   ***
   I burst into the store soon after.
   "Claire, we got a deal!"
   "What deal?"
   "The one for computer security, only this one is for the hardware store
- five times as big as the one I was angling for with Mr.  Peterson.  Has
any of the stuff come in yet?  I'd like to get started and we have to order
more equipment."
   "Yeah, the first order came in this morning while you were out.  I put
it up on the shelf.  I can order more stuff for you, but we have to pay for
what we just got in first.  Did you think to get an advance?"
   "Right here!" I pulled the cheque out of my pocket and Claire went for
it.  She missed, and got me instead.  I gave her a hug and a kiss on the
cheek, and wonder of wonders, she hugged me back.
   "Looking good, Tony.  Maybe we can get this ship off the rocks." She
gave me a quick kiss back, and grabbed the cheque, headed for the bank.
   I took a few minutes to get what I needed to start work: the first of
the cameras, wiring as backup for the wireless and for power, a couple of
the external hard drives we'd got in and my toolbox.  I settled on a couple
of large display monitors and the switchers - the things that meld the
channels and let you have a look at whichever camera you happen to be
interested in.  Uncle Zeb and I had always called them switchers, anyway.
Routers?  Actually, that's something else.  There were a couple of programs
that I'd have to tweak to improve their functionality - one of the things
Mike had taught me - and a high end desktop computer to keep it all under
control.  If the rest of the parts came in soon enough, I could have the
installation done in a week.
   After I scribbled out the list of parts we still needed, including
restocking to cover what I was taking with me, I settled back to waiting
for Claire to get back from the bank.  My mind jittered back to that hug
and our exceedingly chaste kisses.  Claire and I had never had even that
much contact no matter how I lusted after her.  I'd always feared one of
her famous putdowns if I made any effort to show her how I felt, so I
didn't.  Today I just hadn't thought.  Claire was pleased with what I'd
managed to arrange, and Claire happy was another girl, one who glowed.  I
suppose we all glow a bit when we're happy, but it made such a difference
in Claire!  I knew it was important to me to keep that glow alive.
   There were a couple of customers to deal with before Claire came back,
though she hadn't been gone all that long.  She still looked plenty happy
when she came in.
   "I see you've got the next order ready.  That's good.  Let's keep our
reputation for quick response.  Are you ready to get started?"
   "All here." I pointed to my workbag and the pile of boxes I had
accumulated.
   "See you tonight, then."
   "Okay.  Sayonara." She laughed.  I had no idea what she meant by "see
you tonight".  My mind wandered off into a dazed vision of my petite
sweetheart crawling elegantly into my bed, mouthing loving words, before I
remembered this was our weekly family dinner.  Not much of an occasion, but
what we did to at least keep some of the family ties from unravelling. 
Essentially it meant me and Claire having dinner with Mom.  It wasn't all
that special, since Claire lived with Mom and I could have if I hadn't
sought the independence granted me by the apartment above the store, but it
was a firm date every Wednesday, even if the three of us often ate together
at other times.  Just one of those "traditions" Mom had created after Uncle
Zeb and Aunt Rose had died.  She took mothering Claire as seriously as Zeb
had taken looking after me, maybe a return of the kindnesses that Zeb and
Rose had shown us.
   I had my mind firmly back on the job once I got to the hardware store
and started discussing the layout with the owner and the manager.  I had a
fair idea of where to put the cameras to catch shoplifting.  It was too bad
we didn't have image processing software to catch the thief in action, but
I was pretty sure even the CIA didn't have that.  Or almost sure, anyway.
The store people surprised me that they wanted a couple of eyes to keep an
eye on staff and another over the tills.
   "It's not that I don't trust any of them, Tony.  It's that the
temptation is always there, and camera coverage will deter them, especially
if I make it clear that the insurance requires full coverage of the store.
I don't even know if I can get a break on the insurance, since you can't
get coverage for employee theft or shoplifting, at least not at a
reasonable price.  Still, rather than tell them I don't trust them I'll
blame it on some third party."
   "If that doesn't work, you can always say that you bought a package and
it would be a shame to waste some of it."
   "You think?"
   "Yeah, just tell them I didn't want to deviate from the suggestions the
suppliers made on my first job."
   "But this is a custom job, isn't it?"
   "Certainly, but it might be a bit more believable little white lie."
   "Probably right."
   As I worked diligently, setting up the wire even for the cameras that
weren't in yet, I found myself looking forward to dinner more than I had
expected.  It would be a chance to see Claire again, out of the store, even
if the store would likely be our main topic of conversation.
   "Rats!"
   "What's the matter, Tony?"
   "Drill's gone dead on me."
   "Try this one."
   It was a beaut, light but powerful.  Since I wasn't fighting my own
slug-a-bed, work went considerably faster.  I offered it back when it came
to five o'clock, quitting time for me, almost essential since I needed more
parts to get much further.  Claire had said they'd be in in the morning.
   "No, keep it.  Cost price for us isn't too bad and I've noticed how much
it's speeded up your work.  Consider it a bonus for starting so soon."
   "Thanks, it does make the work go faster."
   I rushed home, anxious to tell Claire about my day and how well the
installation was going and how nice the people at the hardware store had
been.  One contract wasn't going to save our bacon, but it would help keep
us afloat.  I'd be seen working, too, and as long as I didn't mess it up
there'd be word of mouth for a good while longer.  With any luck it would
be our turning point.  For me it was even more important.  It would
definitely be something I'd done to help.  It wasn't all on Claire's
shoulders any more.
   ***
   That evening, for the first time, after dinner Claire and I sat out on
the porch and talked.  Some of what we discussed was practical - how to
minimize our carrying costs, say - and some of it was personal, like
Claire's wish to become a doctor, and my thoughts about having a wife and
family, and some of it was fruitless speculation, like was there life on
other planets, and if so, would they look like us.  It didn't matter.  All
of it was getting to know each other, breaking down barriers, trying to
find a friend.  We made a lot of progress in trying to find a friend in
each other, not so much in finding a way to ensure world peace.
   I was busy the next several days finishing the project at the hardware,
so I didn't see too much of Claire.  I did a lot of the work at night so I
wouldn't cause too much interference with the operation of the hardware
store, and also because it was important to keep the number of people who
knew exactly where the cameras had been set up to a minimum.  Eventually,
though, the job was finished.  I picked up the cheque and sauntered into
our store just before closing.
   "Solvency, sweetheart," I announced, holding the cheque out as if I were
a triumphant warrior.  In a sense, I suppose I was.  Claire's eyes lit up.
   "Oh Tony, how wonderful!" She swept out from behind the counter and
swept me into her arms.  Her kiss was like magic, soft and firm, pleasing
and demanding.  I ran my tongue over her lips, which parted to grant me
entry.  My tongue explored her mouth for the first time, finding it warm
and welcoming.  She joined me in exploration, her soft sweet flavour now
stroking my tongue, now entering my mouth to return to me the feelings I
was receiving from her.  It was an unexpectedly erotic encounter.
   Claire and I had exchanged a few kisses as we worked together to restore
the fortunes of our mini-empire, both convinced at last of the other's
commitment to the business.  Our friendship had expanded, blossomed, with
our increased success.  Our time together had removed many of the prickles
that had characterized our earlier relationship.  Even so, I hadn't
expected this depth of feeling, an erotic encounter flushed with my
peculiar regard for her physical attractions, expanding into something
else.
   The kiss continued, both of us holding the other, our mouths, lips,
tongues, teeth sharing feeling, sharing regard, sharing lust, sharing
something beyond lust.  I had the impulse to throw Claire onto the floor
and take her.  I had the impulse to raise Claire onto a pedestal and stare
at her.  My hands were itching to roam over her body, revealing her
secrets. Her hands started to wander as well.
   "Harrumph."
   The throat-clearing shocked us both into rationality.  I remembered we
hadn't locked the door, nor put up the "Closed" sign.  A sudden surge of
protectiveness ran through me, surprising in its intensity.  Claire pulled
back as well, more slowly, almost as if regretting the interruption.
   "Are you the people who do the surveillance systems?" the stranger
asked. There was a kindly glint in his eye.
   "I'm sorry to be dropping in so late on a Friday, and even sorrier to
have interrupted whatever." That was accompanied by a huge grin.  Whoever
it was at least had a sense of humour.  "I'm Adrian Mandolini.  I have a
retail establishment over in Bitterfield, and a couple of other stores.  I
was talking to the manager at the local hardware store, and he recommended
you people for what I wanted."
   "Sit down," Claire invited.  "Tony, here, does the installations.  I'll
just lock up, to prevent any more interruptions." She grinned at him and he
laughed out loud.  I was a little less welcoming, but on the other hand,
this looked like good business, so I had to forgive him.  Besides, it would
give me a chance to figure out just what that kiss meant, or promised. 
What it seemed was something beyond friendship, but beyond lust and liking
and physical attraction as well.
   "So," I asked, "just what kind of system do you need?"
   We went into the kind of coverage he was looking for, the general
outline of his stores - they had identical floorplans at least in the
public areas where he wanted coverage - his staffing and points of sale,
the things that dictated the system requirements.  I spent a few minutes
telling him what the system could do, suggesting the layout and talking
price.  It seemed to me we could do a fixed price for him for each of his
stores.  He was apparently jolted when I gave him the price.
   "That seems excessive.  I had hoped to be able to provide something
effective for about half that."
   The price hadn't seemed too bad to me.  It allowed us to make a pretty
good profit and still give the customer a break on what one of the firms
from the city would charge.  There was travel time and travel expense as
well.  I decided not to back off.  I had four more installations to do for
Matt, so we weren't desperate for the money, no matter how useful it would
be when it came to paying tuition at medical school for Claire.
   "Well, I can only say that the price is the price.  It doesn't seem all
that out of line for three installations."
   "Three?"
   "Yeah.  Isn't that what you want?"
   "Yes, yes it is.  I thought you were quoting the price for each one, I'm
sorry.  That's an excellent price for everything I want.  When can you
start?"
   "Week after next, unless you want to pay extra and ruin my weekends."
Mr. Mandolini glanced quickly over at Claire and softly suggested that was
the last thing he'd intended.  Claire gave him a grateful smile.  He winked
back.  He obviously had a better idea about what was going on between me
and Claire than I did.
   We filled out an order form and an installation spec, and he left.
   "Thank you both for seeing me.  I apologize for the interruption," the
twinkle leaped back into his eyes, "and I'll see you a week from Monday."
   Unfortunately, Claire got lost in ordering the materials I'd need for
the Mandolini installations as well as those for the four stores Matt had
ordered as soon as he saw how the system worked at the one I'd just
finished putting in.  I wanted to make sure that I got his people trained
before they developed any bad habits, and I was jotting notes to myself
while Claire worked.  It looked like our moment was over, or at least
delayed.  Maybe just delayed, I thought.  At least if I had anything to say
about it.
   "Claire, you want to go out to dinner and a movie tomorrow?"
   "That would be lovely, Tony."
   We'd never had anything like a real date before.  Mostly what we'd had
was mutual aggravation.  That had pretty much dissipated.  Friendship, a
sort of affection, maybe more, had slipped in to fill the space left empty.
Now here I was, trying to notch it up a bit.  Clearly, Claire appreciated
my effort.  Whatever that kiss had unleashed between us was shared.  It
wasn't just in my head.  Nice to know.
   "We'd better get home or dinner will be delayed and Mom'll be peeved."
   "I suppose you're right." Claire seemed to be as reluctant as I was to
let go of the moment.  Then she pulled her shoulders back, added her order
notes to what she'd already put together to send in on Monday, grabbed my
arm and marched me out.
   Supper with Mom was somewhat calmer than it had tended to be.  Claire
and I had been slowly coming to the realization that we had to work
together, and that had cut down on the sniping across the table that had
been a feature of so many of our meals together.  Then we had begun working
on friendship.  It hadn't been a conscious decision, for either of us.  It
was just developing.  Tonight we were almost sappy, we tried so hard not to
offend each other.
   "Did you two just discover the Fountain of Youth or something?" Mom
asked sarcastically.
   "No, not that I recall," I answered.
   "Well, the two of you are almost sickeningly sweet tonight.  What are
you setting me up for?"
   "Oh that," Claire replied airily.  "It's just that Tony brought in
Matt's cheque for the first installation, and that's finally going to get
us out of hock as soon as it goes into the bank Monday.  Then we got an
order for three more, and that's going to get us started on my med school
fees.  And Matt wants four more.  By the way, Tony's going to buy me dinner
tomorrow night, so we won't be here.  It's a sort of celebration of
solvency."
   Mom looked a little bemused at that.  We hadn't been friendly long
enough for her to stop looking for the not-so-hidden hostilities that had
characterized our lives pretty much forever, and had grown even worse since
Uncle Zeb and Aunt Rose had been killed.  Being friendly, even celebrating
something together, was beyond her experience.  Ours too, of course, but
you've got to start sometime.
   It was a bit after supper before I decided that I should start back to
the store.  We still had to open up in the morning.  Saturdays tended to be
good sales days.  Claire was on the porch waiting for me.
   "Tony, don't you think we should talk?"
   "I guess so.  I've given it some thought, Claire.  There's something
floating around between us that's different.  Different now from what there
was, different from anything I've ever felt before."
   "Same for me.  I can't get out of my mind the feelings behind the
feelings.  I know, it doesn't make sense."
   "No, it makes perfect sense.  I don't know what it means, but it makes
sense.  There were feelings behind feelings behind feelings this afternoon.
I think it was a good thing we were interrupted.  I think figuring out
something more about those feelings is important for us both."
   "We'll have to think about it, each of us."
   "Say Claire, can you tell me why you're not sniping at me anymore, or at
least not nearly as much.  It's let us get a lot closer.  Being closer is a
good thing, I think.  I like it a lot better."
   "Mostly I found you attractive, Tony, too attractive.  I sniped to keep
you away, keep a distance between us, or at least that's what I think I was
doing.  For some reason my mind has decided I don't need that protection,
or whatever, any longer.  I still find you attractive."
   "I think you're a good person, Claire.  I've always been attracted to
you physically, you know.  Now the attraction is spreading to other things
about you, a lot of them, actually."
   "Let's think about them tonight, and perhaps at dinner tomorrow we can
talk about what we've figured out."
   "Fair enough."
   Before I could turn to go, Claire moved in and we were kissing again. 
Not the rather explosive kiss we'd shared that afternoon, but something a
little gentler and far more possessive.  I rather liked being possessed by
Claire.  Soon enough our lips fell away from each other's and we said our
good nights.  Claire's eyes had a speculative look in them that I am sure
mirrored the one in mine.  There were many things that required a good
thinking.
   Nothing further was said about our developing feelings for each other as
we enjoyed one of our better sales days at the store.  Some of it was
simply because we were both busy.  It was a good thing I hadn't planned to
do any installations that day.  As it was, the two of us were almost run
off our feet keeping up with our customers.  As far as I could tell, it was
a combination of hearing our names bantered around more than usual because
of the installations I was putting in and the normal vagaries of retail. 
I'd never been able to predict when we'd have a rush and neither had
Claire. It was better, a lot better, than sitting around doing nothing
because no one came in, even if it didn't leave us any time for ourselves.
   Lock up time came as a surprise, but none too soon for all that.  We
were both tired.  Claire wanted to go home, change and clean up.
   "I haven't been on a real date in quite a while, Tony.  I want to go
home, get cleaned up and dress up a bit.  I feel I should wear a dress,
even if it's just you." She laughed at that, taking out the sting, and
adding a touch of enticement.  Claire's laugh, always lovely to hear,
conveyed many messages.
   "All right, I'll wash my hands and see what's in the closet," I
answered. "Pick you up at seven?"
   "That would be fine.  See you." Then she was off.  I went upstairs,
showered, changed my clothes to something moderately respectable, something
I'd wear when I wanted to impress a girl on a first date.  I was all
changed by the time it occurred to me that I was dressing to impress
Claire. I'd known her since she'd been born.  I suppose I hadn't known her
before as a girl, or at least a girl - woman (that thought hit hard) - I
had begun dating.  I decided I still wanted to impress her, and certainly
to show her the respect that a little effort with my appearance provided.
   Since I hadn't taken all that much time getting ready, I had enough time
before I'd agreed to pick up Claire to sit back and think about my
developing feelings for her, or at least the changes in my feelings toward
her.  I'd always thought she was hot, even if no one else in the universe
did.  It didn't matter what other people thought, anyway.  It would be me
making love with her.  I stopped right there.  Was that what I was after? A
good deal later after a lot of churning my mind settled in to tell me that
was likely a part of what I was after, but only a part.  That in turn told
me to slow down and make sure I knew exactly what I was after before I
messed it up, maybe getting only a part of what I was after, and maybe not
even that.  The fact that Claire was my cousin barely registered.  It
probably mattered, but it could be dealt with, too.
   I reviewed all the things about Claire that I'd appreciated over the
years that I'd known her, entirely apart from her physical attributes.  She
was smart as a whip.  She was devastatingly honest.  That could be
uncomfortable, but if she gave her word you could bank it.  Claire was a
kind soul, too, a bit snippy with me but she'd explained that.  She'd done
nice things for me, too, almost as if she couldn't help herself.  She was
passionate in everything she did.  Claire was a full steam ahead sort, and
damn the torpedoes.  She was really quite a wonderful person, and now we'd
got that foolish defence mechanism of hers out of the way, she was ideal,
someone you should want to spend a lifetime with.  Another full stop.  Was
that what I wanted?  Could I ever do better?  Probably not.  No, certainly
not.  Ah, so that's what I wanted.  Nice to know.
   It didn't scare me half as much as I thought it should.  I gathered that
feeling was something that had been building, and needed to be recognized
more than it needed to be discovered or concluded or whatever the right
words were.
   The problem was that I wanted Claire, for a permanent relationship,
because she brought so much to me.  I wasn't all that sure I brought
anything to her.  Nothing I could think of at the time.  Maybe some lust.
Maybe some love.  I choked on that one.
   I stopped thinking, startled out of the beginnings of a downward spiral.
Two thoughts.  One, if I really had nothing for Claire, that was her
problem, and she could certainly tell me if it was true.  Second, I'd
better get my ass in gear or she was going to ream me a new one for being
late.  I was out of there in half a minute.  There was likely smoke on the
stairs.
   My lady - on a date, the woman you are with ought to be your lady - was
near enough on time, another endearing trait I hadn't listed.  She looked
marvellous.  She had on a medium short dress, a little above the knee.  She
had very nice legs.  The skirt was medium, sort of a conventional sundress
type, loose, not clingy, just hinting at the beauty of her bottom.  The top
- I think it's called a bodice, but I'm not a dressmaker - was fairly full,
making it difficult to determine just how chesty she was.  The answer, I
knew from other clothes, was not too much, but the dress at least made you
guess at it.
   The best part of it all was that Claire was happy.  A happy Claire
fairly glowed.  That night Claire was glowing so bright you could read by
her in a darkened room, not that I intended to read if I could inveigle her
into a darkened room.  My little mental sentry reminded me that I had a
long term goal here, so calm down, boy, or go without for an eon.  Poetical
soul, he seemed to be.  "No man is an island", that kind of thing.  I much
preferred "Now let us sport us while we may", but then Marvell is a little
more hedonistic than Dean Donne.
   "You look marvellous," I told her.
   She smiled.  "I do, don't I."
   We had a great meal at one of the upper middle places in town.  I don't
really think that the food was all that wonderful, but the company
certainly was.  We talked shop and talked family and talked world problems.
We didn't solve any.  For some reason we didn't talk about us.  Our
relationship wasn't understood or anything like that, except maybe that
there was an us, now.  We still needed to talk about it.  What did it mean,
how were we going to go on, all the important questions.  I'd worked out
some answers, at least from my side.  Were they the same answers that
Claire had discovered?  I guess there was something going on between us
that was non-verbal communication, something that didn't need words, since
we both shied away from talking about what "us" meant during the meal.
   The movie theatre wasn't far so we left my car and walked over.  Holding
hands seemed natural.  It just happened.  It was blissful, though, such a
simple thing to symbolize a connection.  Maybe it's true that ring fingers
are connected directly to the heart.
   The movie was perfect for us.  It was a light-hearted comedy with enough
depth to keep us drawn into it.  Surprisingly, the director managed to
maintain the atmosphere to the end.  Of course, he'd had good actors to
work with, but it's a hard thing to do and, I suspect, requires immense
self-discipline.  The temptation to let your own preferences override what
the story requires must be incredible.
   Claire and I sat about mid-way down the aisle.  It hadn't occurred to me
to squeeze her into a back seat and spend the movie taking advantage of
her. I'd had a date or two like that, and it had been a decent time.  We
were still friends when it ended.  I guess there was this little bell in my
head that reminded me that however pleasant it had been, it had in fact
ended.  An ending was not what I wanted for my relationship with Claire. 
Whatever I wanted from the relationship, an ending wasn't among the
available options, at least not in my head.
   I put an arm around Claire and she cuddled her skinny frame into me as
if she'd been waiting for me to clue in.  We watched the whole movie like
that.  Nothing else.  No groping.  No suggestive moves.  Just a comfortable
togetherness.
   After the movie we walked back to my car.
   "That was fun, Tony, thank you," Claire started.  "We haven't done any
talking, and I guess we should.  We really need to see if we're on the same
page about us, you know.  If we are, there are things we can do, or should
take care of.  If we're not, well, that's all right too, just we have to go
ahead differently."
   "I would like to think we have the same objectives," I replied. 
"Perhaps that's wishful thinking.  I guess we have to be serious for a bit,
just to sort out our own heads with each other."
   "Mom's home tonight.  Let's go up to your place for a while.  We can
talk and sort things out without bothering her."
   "It's embarrassing to talk about stuff like this, Claire.  What if I
declare my undying love, and you tell me I'm a friend, kind of like a
puppy? What if you tell me I'm the great love of your life and I tell you
I'm in love with Ermintrude Black?" Fortunately for Claire, and likely for
me, too, the curvaceous Ermintude didn't exist.
   "It's better to know now, Tony.  You know that.  The hard part is being
honest with ourselves, truth to tell, even harder than being as honest as
we can be with each other."
   It didn't take us long to get back to my apartment - the one with the
bed and the hotplate.  Interesting that I wasn't focussed too much on the
bed, given that I was with a woman - still hard to take in - but I really
wasn't thinking about the hotplate, either.  I was completely given over to
the woman on my arm, the one who might think the same about me as I thought
about her.  Or might not, not a thought I took pleasure in contemplating.
   The chair was barely adequate to eat at what passed for the kitchen
table, but Claire headed for it while I plunked myself down on the end of
the bed.  She sat gingerly on the edge of the chair.  I was tempted to
sprawl, but decided that the forthcoming discussion deserved a more
attentive posture.
   The two of us sparred around a lot, wandered off on tangents, reminisced
about our childhoods, occasionally talked what passed for sense about
ourselves, our relationship, our future.  Somewhere in all that I think we
did come up with a method for avoiding war and curing AIDS, but as the
other things we talked about were more important to me personally, I've
forgotten now.  Maybe it wasn't such a great solution.
   I'll spare you the details of our meanderings and just set out the
highlights.  I'm sure that makes us look a great deal more rational and
sensible and forthcoming than we were, but that's what happens when you
mine a conversation for the nuggets.  It probably seems a little sappy.  A
guy and a girl talking for three hours straight probably sounds pretty
sappy by itself.  Imagine, if you will, that each bit of truth is
surrounded by about ten minutes of vagueness, misdirection and sheer
obtuseness, that each bit of truth was forced out, sometimes by accident,
virtually never by design.  Neither one of us was comfortable talking about
the things that really mattered to us.  So what follows is edited and
condensed and not really the way it happened, but I don't much want to make
you all into lumber barons, sawing logs.  I'll try to give you the essence
of what the important parts were, for me, and I think for Claire as well.
   We spent about fifteen minutes talking about ourselves, beating about
the bush, neither of us willing to expose ourselves more than we absolutely
had to.  There was too much chance of hurt.  Deep hurt.  I was surprised to
care so much.  Of course, we had a history of verbally abusing each other.
I'd hoped we were over that, and maybe we were, but neither of us was too
certain.  Claire looked awfully uncomfortable on that chair.
   "Come over here, love, and sit by me," I invited.  The word had just
slipped out.  Claire caught it, I could tell, since her eyes flashed,
though with what emotion I couldn't say.  Even so, she let it go by.  She
did come over to sit by me after I slipped around to the side of the bed
where there was room enough for the both of us.  We curled up together,
each with an arm around the other, much like we'd been at the movie.  I
started, in a low voice, not even looking at her.
   "Claire, I'm not all that much.  I'm a techie, a guy who knows a little
about computers and electronics, and I don't have all that much to offer
anyone." I could hear Claire take in a breath as if to argue with me, or to
agree, but I could feel her decide not to interrupt.  It was strange
feeling, rather than seeing, her reactions, but I knew I could never get
out what I wanted to say while looking her in the eye.  It just wouldn't
happen.
   "You, on the other hand, are a prize.  You're going to be a doctor. 
You're smart, you're ambitious and you're really a nice person once someone
gets by the defensive reactions." The feeling this time seemed to be a
combination of surprise and resentment easing into acceptance.  What had
she said about the need to be honest with ourselves even more so than with
each other?
   "You act like you're dirt, Tony," she whispered to me, "and you're not.
You're not."
   Mistaken as she possibly was, I decided I'd better be open to new
thoughts.  It was part of what we'd promised each other when we decided we
had to talk it out or forget whatever we were developing.  So I didn't give
out the contradiction that leapt to my lips.  In some ways I was as
defensive as she was.  I just reacted differently.
   "Whatever.  Claire," I went on, "I just want you to know that I think a
lot of you.  I always have.  I like being with you, even when we fight. 
It's so much better than being alone.  I don't feel that way with other
people.  These last few days, when we've been good friends, close friends,
loving friends, have been heavenly.  Tonight was wonderful.  Simply the
best time I've had in ages.  It's all about being with you.  I don't want
to let that go."
   "For how long, Tony?"
   "Say what?"
   "How long do you want us to be together?"
   "Don't really know.  Haven't thought about it.  I guess I don't see an
end to it, Claire.  I never thought about forever, but that's what no end
means, doesn't it?"
   "Do you love me?"
   "Do I know what love even is?  I can only say that being with you makes
me happy, and being apart from you makes me sad.  What pleases you is more
important to me than what pleases me.  I want to keep you safe from all of
life's troubles, even though I know I can't.  You're the most important
person in the world to me."
   "I think that's what love is, Tony.  It's what I feel about you.  It's a
feeling that makes you want to shout out to the world that you're in love,
and it makes you want to hide it away so it can't be trampled on, something
just to be shared with your love."
   "Does that make us in love, then?"
   That one took her a very long time to answer.  I think that's when we
worked out the meaning of life, somewhere in there before she answered my
question.
   "Probably.  No, certainly.  We're in love with each other.  We intend to
go on forever.  Can we?  Who knows?  We can try.  Is that where you want to
go?"
   I think we figured out the causes of the Viet Nam war and how that whole
problem ought to have been addressed by the time I worked out my answer.
   "Yeah, that's where I want to go.  I didn't know that, you know.  I just
knew I wanted to be with you.  I can't see a time when I won't want to be
with you."
   I felt good.  I'd managed to actually tell Claire how I felt, something
that would have been impossible under other circumstances.  It had taken a
long evening of just being with her, enjoying her company, her presence,
sharing a little something of ourselves with each other.  It had taken
sitting on the bed together, cuddling, sharing warmth and affection.  It
had taken being able to force it out without anything but her physical
presence revealing whether I'd been incredibly forthcoming and mature, or
an utter idiot.  And it had taken the woman with me to draw it out of me,
and to respond in like manner, however hard it had been for her, too.  And
it was one of the happiest moments of my life, incredible barriers broken
and an helpmate for the future.
   "You know, Tony," Claire said through a sheen of tears, happy tears, I
hoped, "I've never had anyone before.  Not to be with, to share with, to
love.  Someone who loves me back." I massaged her back a little to help her
relax.  It was a fine back.  She ran her hands up and down my arms.  It was
a touching, a little more than we'd ever attempted before, a little less
than seduction, as if either of us had any idea how to go about that.
   Even talking for three hours we still hadn't found a solution for world
hunger, but after all the inanities, at least some things had come out
right.
   "It's after two, love, I'd better get you home."
   "Oh Tony, I'd so love to just stay here."
   "Another time, perhaps.  Tonight we need to settle in on what we've
discovered." And that's really all that happened.  I drove Claire home and
she kissed me good night and I kissed her good night and we parted,
confident that there was all the time in the world to take things further,
at their own pace.  It's not like we didn't have a lot of time.  All the
time there was.
   ***
   The week went by quickly.  Claire and I usually shared a kiss in the
morning and a kiss at the end of the day.  They were mostly a little
possessive, a little loving.  A few times they got quite hot, more quickly
than either of us had expected, and we damped down those fires, one or the
other of us withdrawing, before we could be consumed.  After all, a
customer could come in at any moment.
   Sales were up.  I was out most of the day on installations and Claire
took orders for two more.  The guys who owned businesses were fascinated by
the technology, a new toy that promised to actually save them money.  The
flying cameras came in at last.  Orders for them from the factory had
backed up a lot.  Before I got a chance to play with one, they'd both flown
off the shelves into a customer's waiting hands.  Claire ordered again.
   In the evenings we were both tired.  We spent quiet times together, just
being together.  I'd be reading catalogues and instruction manuals and
Claire would be checking the books, marvelling that finally we'd pulled out
of the hole Zeb's death had put us in, starting to put money aside for the
bad times the retail cycle would likely hand us.  Mom was amused at first
since she didn't believe it of us, but then she settled in to enjoy the
relative peace.
   I'd arranged to take Claire out again Saturday night.  After I picked
her up, she turned shyly to me.
   "Um, Tony, if you don't have reservations or tickets, I'd just as soon
that we just pick up some takeout and go over to your place."
   "Whatever you'd like.  Are you okay with Chinese?"
   It would be American Chinese.  I had no idea what real Chinese Chinese
was like.  The American variety was pretty good and there was always plenty
from the place I liked best.
   ""You mean Wong's?" Claire asked.  "That would be fine.  Get spring
rolls, though.  And extra Chow Mein."
   I laughed.  Claire might have been skinny, but she ate enough for three
people.  Three overweight people.
   "Okay, that's what we'll do."
   It took us twenty minutes or so for us to pick up enough Chinese food
for a small army - I had to eat, too - and get back to my place.  One of
the things I like about Chinese food is that it's usually ready quickly. 
That, and there isn't any waste because it's almost as good heated up again
the next day, bless microwaves forever.
   We spent a fair bit of time eating.  It takes time to fuel the body,
especially if, like Claire was, you're taking on an extra load.  I'd hauled
the table over so we could eat sitting side by side on the bed.  After all,
there was only one chair.  There was a lot of body contact involved.  Our
hands would touch and spark as we reached for the different dishes.  Our
upper arms brushed regularly.  We bumped heads a couple of times.  Then
there was the slow burn where our thighs touched.  Eventually Claire must
have got past the empty mark - I'd never seen her actually full - and
things got a little hotter between us.
   "I'll just put the table back," I offered.
   "Okay.  I'll put the leftovers in the fridge."
   "You mean there are any?"
   "No, now you mention it, just a bit of fried rice.  Here, I'll finish
that off."
   The table was a lot lighter going back to where it belonged than it had
been when it was full of Chinese food and I dragged it over.  I had no idea
where she put it all.  I didn't mind at all.  I liked seeing her happy.  I
liked being with Claire when she was happy.  Most other times, too, I was
beginning to realize, but happy was best.
   I sat down with her again on the bed.  We sort of migrated to each
other. I put my arms around her and Claire kissed me.  Between the two of
us, it developed very quickly into the hot kiss, the one that usually
caught us both by surprise.
   I pulled her tightly against me, pressing her body into mine.  She came
willingly, almost hurtling into me, as if she'd been waiting for my arms
all her life.  I ran my tongue along her bottom lip, tasting her, revelling
in the combination of tastes underlying the soy sauce and pineapple that
was just Claire.  Sweet with a touch of acid, just like my girl.  When she
gasped at the sensation of my tongue brushing her lip, I slid my tongue
into her mouth.  Although she gave the impression that there had never been
another man's tongue in her mouth, which was likely true, she was
responding as if she'd been tutored by Lilith.  She wrapped her little
tongue around mine and sucked, pulling me in deeper and deeper.  We stroked
and tasted and made love with our mouths.  The room was suddenly hot.  I
got lost in the feel of my darling - the touch of her hands moving with
tortuously slow precision along my arms until finally they reached my neck,
her fingers then easing slowly into my hair, the soft touch of her lips.  I
was enthralled by the maddeningly magnificent little sounds she made at the
back of her throat as we moved together.
   She pressed closer to me, her breasts mashed into my chest.  I ran my
hands down her back, pulled her closer still.  She moaned slightly, then
released her hands to wander over my body, soft little touches that left a
trail of flame behind them.
   We broke apart, but just for a moment.  Claire was on fire, or so it
seemed.  She glowed.  Her eyes were bright.  A touch of uncertainty might
have overlain what had to be desire.
   Before I realized what she was doing, she had her clothes off.  She
slipped out of her shoes and socks.  Then her dress, buttons undone by
flying fingers, jumped over her head.  A plain bra went sailing and then
she jack-knifed and her white cotton panties joined the rest of her clothes
on the floor.  Completely naked, she looked at me with a predatory grin.
   "You're overdressed for the occasion, Tony."
   She was certainly right about that.  I corrected the problem.  There
wasn't too much thought involved.
   "Will you be all right?"
   "I'll be fine, Tony.  I'm protected.  Never seemed to be any point to it
before now, but I want to be a doctor, not a mother, at least not yet."
   "Are you sure about this, Claire?" Stupid.  Stupid.  I was about to get
laid, and I was giving her an out?  But this was Claire, and Claire was too
important to my life - where had that thought come from?  - to be rushed or
uncertain or anything less than fully committed.  I was pretty sure she was
a virgin, too, and that can't be undone.  Responsible Tony, that's me. 
Totally unrecognizable.
   "Never surer about anything in my life, love," she whispered throatily.
My cock gave an extra lurch.  It was already as hard as it could get.  How
could she do that to me?
   "Tony," she said, reaching for me.  "I've never done this before, so
you'll have to teach me.  I know I'm not much, but I've got all the right
parts."
   "Not much?  You're the most beautiful woman I know.  You have sex oozing
out of your pores.  I'm not one to teach you, but I can try, and I think
you know more than you're willing to admit, the effect you have on me."
   "Oh Tony, such sweet lies!"
   True, Claire didn't have too much in the chest, but what she had was
perfect, beautifully shaped, real breasts, not a pimple with a nipple. 
Nipples of a gorgeous pinkness, surrounded by a fainter pink areola in
perfect proportion.  Her skin was wonderfully smooth.  Her back especially,
the part I was running my hands over, was firm, solid, with just a touch of
what makes a woman soft and warm and cuddly, not a term you would normally
apply to Claire.  Naked in my arms, it was right.  Her legs were wonderful,
and as it turned out she did have an ass to die for, or at least I'd have
died for it.  It was firm, strong, so smooth and round, almost no softness
to it, but it felt so good.
   My body had run ahead of my mind for a while.  I caught up, sort of.  My
Claire was here with me.  She was naked.  She loved me as much as I loved
her.  She was willing, willing to start a new life together, willing to
share her body with me.  It was almost too much.  I almost felt unmanned by
the trust she gave me, the faith she had in me.  Almost.
   That was my Claire.  Bold and brave and perfect, willing me to take what
she offered.  I couldn't turn down what she was giving.  I couldn't hurt
her like that.  I couldn't hurt me like that.  It was perfect.
   Claire made no effort to hide her loveliness.  Instead, she was reaching
for me, and I was reaching for her, too.  We clung together on the bed, too
small, but what we had.
   Our kisses were hot, sparking with an electrical tension.  Finally, the
clothes that had prevented the currents from running through us were gone
and the circuits were complete.  Sparks and flames and heat permeated us
both.
   Our hands traced over each other, learning, memorizing the shape of each
other, the feel of each other, the heat of each other.  Each hand trailed
sparks, made a connection, a connection that would bind us together for
life.  It would be us, now, not Tony, not Claire, but us, bound together by
lust, by heat, by our love.
   I loved her taste, her enthusiasm, her fire.  I pulled back for a moment
to gaze deep into her eyes, pools of lust and need and love, even triumph.
   "Yes, I am yours, and you are mine, and we are together and we will be
together always."
   There was no answer for her.  She was right.  The merging of our souls
had begun.
   I pressed her down on the bed, the covers rumpled, and drew them aside,
leaving her on the sheets.  My Madonna.  I pressed myself between her warm
thighs.  Curiously, I was a little apart from myself, my lusts inflamed,
but cautioning my fiery self throughout.  It is her first time.  You must
hold back.  You must make it pleasant for her, even joyful if you can.  It
is the rest of your life at risk.  All this I told myself.  And it was all
true.  The rest of my life rolled out before me, ruined by my impatience
and ineptitude.  Or joyous, with my love beside me, conquering worlds with
our passion.  For once I listened.
   Claire writhed beneath me, her passions alight, so seductively urging me
to simply take, enjoy.  She pressed against me, up into me, as her hands
laid paths across my body for the whirling electrons to follow, to spark
and to heat.  I pressed back, wanting to merge with her flesh.  I lifted
for a moment, her eyes, surprised, flashed, but then I fell down beside
her, reached for her, started to feast on her.  I covered her, all of her,
with my lips and my tongue and, sometimes, my teeth.  I praised all of her
slender body with myself.  My eyes caught hers, my lips connected and we
were caught again sharing our selves, each with the other.  I broke away
again.  There was too much, too much.  I would never get my fill of her.
   My mission now was focused on her breasts, small, perfect, with a divine
taste and smell.  I licked around each, swirling in to her areolae,
slipping over their slightly rough surfaces to her nipples, waking them to
alert, sentries drawing me in rather than forcing me away.  I suckled
gently on each, my heat stoked by her moans of passion, her hips thrusting
upward into my centre, her arms pulling me down and into her.
   For a moment I ventured to take her entire breast into my mouth.  Then
the other.  The sweetness of the contact nearly pushed me too far.  I let
my mouth wander lower, down her chest, over her flat stomach, dipping
momentarily into her navel, swirling, eliciting further moans, her
enjoyment obvious, arousing.  My tongue slid toward her centre past the
silkiness of her pubic hair, guarding her treasures.  I licked lightly over
her labia, flushed and open with her arousal, then delved in as far as my
tongue would allow.  I withdrew, angling so as to taste as much of her as I
could, then tapped her emerging clitoris, then licked, hearing her
breathing rush, now, as she climbed, climbed, then fell over, her climax
pushing her body into spasms, her mind into the heavens.  I slowed my
caresses, keeping her in heaven, until she fell out and slowly floated back
to Earth.
   "I knew you were the one," she told me.  I was unbelievably pleased that
she chose not to thank me, that she took it as her due, her due from me,
the one who above all others sought to please her.  As I did.
   "Inside" she panted, her desires fierce and obvious still, even after
her massive climax.  "All of it, Tony," she continued.  "Take me to all of
it."
   I settled back.  The head of my cock brushed against her clitoris and
she shuddered again, a small aftershock from her orgasm.  She was open,
willing, waiting, wet and warm.  I slipped myself between her labia,
sliding back and forth to lubricate myself on her effusions, driving myself
insane with wanting, the need to bury myself within.  Only the knowledge
that I was creating the rest of my life, with Claire or alone, held me
back. I pushed in, a trifle, a touch.  She was so warm, so moist, so tight
and welcoming.  Another trifle.  She eased open as I moved, welcoming me
into her depths, her soul.  A barrier.  I butted myself against it, ready
to swoop, destroy, invade and conquer.  Claire pushed hard against me.  She
gave a soft cry, half pain, half victory, and the barrier had been
destroyed and I was in.  I eased further along, holding back, allowing her
to fit herself to me as I slipped into the depths of my beloved, pushing
further and further until there was no further I could go.
   An astonished voice: "Oh you fit me so well.  We're so together, so much
of a oneness.  I'm full of love and full of you, and it's just so
wonderful."
   I slid out again, nearly leaving her.  She gave a disappointed moan that
changed to a hiss as I re-entered.  I began a slow rhythm of long strokes,
each reaching her depths.  Slowly, tentatively, she began to respond, to
lift to meet my thrusts, to grasp me as I entered and release me to pull
back.  My control was slipping.  I moved faster.  My thrusts gained power.
She kept pace, bouncing up to meet me, grabbing tight as I entered, almost
pulling me into her.  My breathing turned to panting as I approached my
climax.  Claire was keening, a wail that changed register as I approached
my orgasm.
   Her scream echoed in the small room, the most obvious sign of the orgasm
neither of us had expected.  She gripped, pulsed, forced my orgasm,
vibrating deep inside her, as far in as I could fit, and I, too, left this
earth for a celestial awakening, the force of my climax enough to call down
the stars, to force the planets out of their orbits.
   "One thing for sure," Claire said as she struggled to regain her
equilibrium after our peaks, "we belong together."
   "That we do, love, that we do."
   ***
   From there, Claire and I made love when we could.  It was a good thing
the customer flow was steady and I was out on installations a lot of the
time, or we'd have driven the business into bankruptcy, all the time it
would have been closed.  After a few days, Claire started staying over, and
we'd make love again in the morning before opening the store.
   "Where do we go from here?" she asked one evening.  I was trying to
catch my breath.  Our lovemaking had been glorious once again.
   "My preference is to sell the store, the business.  We've restored its
appeal, got rid of the debt.  That would give you enough for tuition for
medical school with a little left over."
   "What about incidentals like food and shelter?"
   "I'll get a job.  My resumé is thicker than it was and I've got decent
recommendations from Matt, Mike and Mr.  Mandolini.  I can keep us in the
basics.  This way, you get to go to med school and we get to stay
together." I didn't mention that as first cousins we could get married in
the state where she'd been accepted into med school.  Too early in our
relationship, maybe.
   Mom was smart enough.  It didn't take her long to figure out was going
on.  I'd more or less expected it.  I didn't think she'd mind, much.  She'd
be getting me settled, and she had never liked the way Claire and I sniped
at each other.  I knew she liked Claire.  She'd get over the being first
cousins bit.
   Perhaps three weeks after we first got together, Mom hauled me off for a
private talk after dinner.  Not the family dinner on Wednesdays - nothing
was allowed to interfere with that priority - but the next night, which was
an informal gathering even though it involved the same people.  A women's
thing, I suppose, or maybe just a mother's attempt to preserve family.
   "Tony, I'm pleased to see that you and Claire are getting along so
well."
   "Yeah, Mom, Claire and I mesh these days.  It's occurred to me that
maybe we should make the business a true family business."
   "You mean, get married?"
   "Something like that, yes."
   "Oh Tony, that can never be!"
   "All right, Mom, what's the problem?  Claire and I are getting along
fine for a change.  More than fine as a matter of fact."
   "It shouldn't be," she sobbed.
   "Why?  Because we're cousins?  Even first cousins can get married lots
of places.  Maybe not here, but Colorado, for sure, lots of other places."
   "That's not it.  Or at least not all of it."
   "Say what?"
   "Claire's your half sister."
   "Whoa.  That makes no sense."
   "One of the reasons your father left is because he figured out that I
had had an affair and that you were the result of it, not his child at all.
Thank heaven for that.  I'd hate to have been responsible for perpetuating
his genes.  As far as I know, Rose never knew.  It was simply one of those
things that happen.  Anyway, Zeb knew since he was the other party to the
affair, and he knew as well that you had to be his child, the son he never
had, and that's why he took us in and always treated you so well."
   "So how do you know it couldn't have been the person I always thought of
as my father?"
   "We'd been on the outs.  I was mad enough to refuse to sleep with him.
Oh, I can't imagine I'm telling you - my son - this.  He went out and found
a floozie or two or a dozen.  Not for the first time.  Anyway," she went
on, drying her tears, "we weren't sleeping together.  I was looking for
comfort and Zeb provided it.  Zeb was ready for something and I was there
and he was there for me and it just happened.  We were madly passionate for
a couple of weeks and then Zeb just cut it off.  His conscience probably
kicked in or something about making love with his brother's wife, even if
his brother was acting as if he'd never married.  You were the result. 
This all happened a good many months before Zeb even met Rose.  You have to
know Zeb was never unfaithful to Rose.  Your father knew you couldn't
possibly be his, which is why he left just after you were born, though he
didn't know whose child you were.  If he had, he might have tried to kill
Zeb."
   "Mom, are you telling me that Claire is my half-sister and I can't fall
in love with her, sleep with her or marry her or even kiss her?"
   "That's what I was trying to explain."
   "Oh shit."
   "Is that 'oh shit' as in 'I want to do this' or 'oh shit' as in 'I've
already done this'?"
   "Both."
   "Well, we do have problems, don't we?"
   That seemed to sum up the situation quite nicely.
   "Mom, does Claire know?"
   "No, I'm pretty sure not.  There's never been a reason she should know.
I suppose that means you have to tell her."
   "Me?"
   "You, Sir Lancelot."
   Well wasn't that a fine thing for a Friday morning.  How was I going to
explain to Claire that falling in love with me, and me with her, had been a
totally bad idea for us both?  Something prohibited and insane, counter to
all the rules there were?  Just lovely.
   It didn't work out the way I expected.  I expected some tears and some
cutting remarks and a very cold shoulder and possibly physical violence,
all of which would have been deserved, except that I hadn't known that
there had been a problem.
   "Um, Claire, can I have a few words with you?" It was the end of the day
and we'd just closed the store.  It had been one of the best weeks of our
business careers.  Claire had kissed me happily and in other circumstances
I'd have been looking forward to some more fun time with her.
   "Sure, Tony.  What's up?" My pecker, of course, as usual around my love,
or the person who was formerly my love, I suppose, but I could scarcely
mention that given the topic of conversation I was about to have and I
didn't like that bit about former, not at all.  Best get it over with.
   "Um, Mom says we have to stop fooling around."
   "Why on Earth would she say that?  I thought your mother was happy we
were getting along better.  Even better than she thinks, I'll bet." Claire
gave me the most sensuous come-along look.  I came very close to ripping my
jeans.  It occurred to me that we could have this conversation after a
lengthy session in bed, which would be good for both of us, relax us after
the stresses of the week (even though I still had some relaxation left from
our morning tryst) and make us open to consider all options.  Of course,
there was just one, and I suppose Claire might cheerfully murder me if she
thought I'd tried to take advantage of her with a secret like this hanging
over us both.  She'd have been right, too.  Go ahead, Tony.  Do it.
   "Well, according to what she said, you and I are too closely related to
be doing . . .  stuff."
   "Making love, you mean?  Why not?  First cousins get married" - a word
we'd both thought but not uttered before - "all the time."
   "The way Mom puts it, we're a little closer than that."
   "How much closer?"
   "She says we're siblings - well, half-siblings."
   "Are you telling me your father had it on with my Mom?  Can't be.  Not
only would Mom never have gone with him, he was dead by the time I was
conceived."
   "Mom tells a different story.  Apparently your father had an affair with
my mother, or perhaps the other way around.  He wasn't being unfaithful to
your mother.  He hadn't even met her yet.  Anyway, the affair produced me.
Mom and my father - the person who was legally my father, anyway - hadn't
been having relations, so it had to be your dad who provided the genetic
material."
   "Couldn't it have been someone else?" She took a good look at my
expression and decided.
   "No, I suppose not."
   "Mom says there was never anyone else, at least while my father was
alive." It was becoming rather difficult to refer to the old bugger that I
was just as happy hadn't given me my genetic start in life.  I'd never
known him.  Apart from an entirely inadequate survivor's pension, he'd
never given me anything, never been there for me.  As far as I knew I'd
never even seen him or been held by him.
   I supposed I could call him my legal father.  After all, he and Mom had
been married when I was born and he showed up on my birth certificate.  A
DNA test would probably show a lot of similarities, since it was his
brother who'd been my biological father, and my real dad, too, in so many
ways.  Uncle Zeb would have to stay Uncle Zeb.
   After that Claire just bulled ahead.  It wasn't a three-hour meandering
conversation like the one we'd had the night we agreed that we really were
in love with each other.  We knew that part.  Now we knew why we shouldn't
be.  What next?
   "And all of this scandalous material from twenty some years ago,
twenty-five, I guess, affects us exactly how?" I thought it was obvious,
but Claire wanted it spelled out.
   "We're brother and sister.  We can't behave with each other the way
we've been doing.  Brothers and sisters don't do that."
   "Do you want to?"
   "Want to what?"
   "Keep doing what we've been doing?"
   "Of course I do.  You're a marvelous woman.  I want you in my life all
the time.  Forever.  But we can't."
   "Tell me, Tony, do you love me?"
   "Certainly.  I've told you often enough.  I wasn't lying, Claire.  I
truly love you." Once I'd figured it out, it was simpler to say, easier to
get it out the more I said it.
   "And did you love me before you knew I was your half-sister?"
   "Yes, you know that."
   "Then if you love me, and God knows I love you, I can't see that some
stupid social rule should be keeping us apart."
   "There are reasons, Claire.  It's not just a mindless taboo."
   "I know what they are, and I don't care.  We'll run some serious risks,
but they're just risks, Tony, not certainties.  Do you plan to give up what
we have together for the sake of a few risks?"
   "Not if you're prepared to accept them, love."
   "Then that's what we'll do."
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