 ### Back to Naz ... but swapping from real -time to flashback, just to keep things confusing ... ###

It was kind of weird to be on the boat, at last, what with everything that had happened over the last few days ... not to mention the stuff that Seffi had told me on the train. Then again, it felt pretty good, too - hey, I wasn't really used to this business travel stuff, the expense account, all that shit. So we did first class on the train - another first - and now we were in a Captain's class cabin on the night ferry. OK, so it was a naff name, but ... room with a view and all that - even if it was a night sailing but, hey, all you'd see was bloody sea even in daylight, so ... More to the point, it had an actual double bed.

On which I plonked myself down, watching Seff as she paced the space, getting herself together before we went to get something to eat. I think she maybe caught my reflective mood, turning to me as she was pulling on her stripey 'Denis the Menace' jumper.
"Well," she said, "We're on our way at last ... and who'd have thought it, eh?"

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

Monday morning both Seff and I were in the office really early. I think Dave calling me at home over the weekend had hit some sort of nerve, or maybe I was nervous about what would happen with the turbine blade designs I'd come up with - a work of genius even if I did say it myself. So I'd spent a fair amount of Sunday working on some animations to convince Dave of the benefits ... and been surprised when Seff had really got into helping. Turned out that her degree - in computing - had included a load of stuff on 3D modelling. Strange the way that we knew each other so intimately in some ways and hardly at all in so many others.

Well, whatever. All that would work out in time ... or so Seff said, and, well, she was a bit more experienced with this sort of stuff than me, you know?

Anyway. Niusha came in pretty soon after we did, looking really happy and sitting down at Deb's desk like she owned it. So, OK, I knew we needed her here - especially if Seff and I were actually going to get the Bremen stuff sorted - but something really rankled, anyway. I mean, Deb was ... you know ... well, the reason why Seff and I were here in the first place, amongst a lot of other things.

So I was maybe a bit reserved, even as Seff went into full welcome mode, abandoning her Monday morning trawl through the e -mails to make sure Niusha was fine, making the coffees, settling things for the team.

In fact, Niusha was smiling enigmatically, politely but obviously failing to answer Seff's questions about her weekend, when Dave walked in. And, frankly, he looked shit. OK, he was as friendly as ever, giving us all a smile, accepting a coffee from Seffi, but ... well, he didn't normally lurch to his desk, nor drop into the chair with such a thud. I swapped a glance with Seff, saw she'd picked up on it, too, so I started to ask him if he was, like, OK.

Dave cut me off - speaking in a slightly tight voice but with the calm authority I'd come to respect in the guy. Shit, Dave didn't know what the fuck was going on, he told you. Else, he told you what was. Guy didn't look well, to my eyes - not a mega -hangover or anything, he seemed to be in pain  - but, hey, he was the boss, so we all listened.

And it was good news - very good news, from my point of view - Debs was coming back to work - in London, I mean - within a few days, he was going with the wind power idea ... meaning I'd need to find someone to manufacture the damn things, maybe think about patenting the design, all that ... and Niusha and the CareSpan people had apparently come up with a new way of working with CastList, which Dave would be working on for the immediate future. And, best of all, really, Seff and I were finally free to get off to Bremen. Seff was booking the tickets while Dave was still speaking. 

Afterwards I realised that he'd not mentioned PCW and the 'troubles' at all but, then, we never got to ask him anything - Colin the architect came in, asked for some time with Dave and got it ... even if Dave did not look keen on climbing the stairs ....

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

We did get out to eat, had a few drinks and a bit of a smoke on the observation deck, and got back to that cabin while the ship was still in sight of land. So we enjoyed the view for a while ... or maybe Seff did. Given that she stripped off to just her bra and pants as soon as we got through the door, though, I was mostly taken up with enjoying that view, whatever the charms of the Essex coast. Then again, I don't think Seff was exactly concentrating on the landscape, either, given the way she was rubbing herself against me ...

Next morning, we got a series of trains, the local shuttle from the Hoek then InterCity trains to Amersfoort, Osnabruck and finally Bremen. It was all incredible smooth - maybe not quite as quick as Eurostar, but the ferry had been relaxing and anyway we still arrived at just gone 13:00, so time to find the hotel and then head off to do some work - or at least meet up with Beate and Rainer.

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

By the end of Monday it was pretty clear that Dave really wasn't well. Like, really not well. I mean, he was keeping it together, work -wise, but movement was clearly a problem. While he was upstairs talking about the new building, Seff had phoned Deb, and the news was good, there, too. She'd already been to see the planning people, given them copies of Colin's initial drawings and got a verbal understanding, as she put it, that formal permission would not be a problem. Which meant that we could begin the tendering process as soon as Colin had finalised the drawings - which is what he was doing with Dave even as Seff was making the call. Anyway, Debbie felt that she could leave the local side of the work - actually inviting the bids from local firms - to the mysterious Rosie who both she and Dave had been so taken with, which meant she'd be back in London either on Tuesday or Wednesday. They didn't talk about Dave at all.
In fact it was Niusha who finally did raise the subject, asking him what was going on more or less as soon as he came back into the office. Didn't get a particularly fulsome response - something about abdominal pain, starting some time the day before - but she did at least get an agreement that he'd get an early appointment with his GP, get stuff checked. Except that, later, things took a turn for the worse - I mean, Dave went into a spasm or something, however briefly - and Niusha took some sort of decision. Which is to say, she got Seff to call a taxi, bundled Dave into it and promptly took him off to the local walk -in treatment centre.

Which left Seff and me in the office ... and that's when PCW decided to call.

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

I'd seen Seff's university pictures so I knew something of what to expect ... but was still taken aback by the reality. Beate, for a start, was an almost cliched Nordic blonde, actually taller than me - so she completely dwarfed Seffi - and, well, put her in a breast plate and a helmet and she could have been picking up the heroic departed from any battle saga you could imagine. Luckily, though, her character didn't seem to confirm to the Valkyrie image, as she greeted us both warmly, hugging each of us in turn and jabbering away in German for just as long as it took her to realise that I didn't speak a word of the language - and switch to an almost equally fluent English.
Rainer, on the other hand was - at least at first - a much more reserved figure, nothing like as effusive, in fact quite shy, with rimless glasses, very neatly cut hair and the sort of suit - very pale grey, oddly Edwardian in cut - that would have got him stared at on the tube in London but was apparently the height of fashion here. I think if I'd had to sum him up in one word, on that first meeting, it could only have been serious. Then again, he'd managed to marry Beate and someone had decided that we should meet up in this particular bar ... which was not the sort of hi -tech hi -fashion venue that his image would have suggested. And, somehow, I knew that it would be Rainer who took the decisions in this particular relationship, so ...

So we relaxed, for a while, none of us having a pressing need to plunge into work ... and all of us realising that this could not just be a business only deal - if the sort of dispersed development structure we were proposing were to work, we'd actually have to get on with each other. Which, of course, should not be a problem, given that most of the relationships were already in place ... except that that put quite a lot of stress on me, as the outsider to their trio. I kind of wished I had a spliff to calm the nerves, not quite sure how to avoid lapsing into an uncomfortable diffidence that I can get into when I'm meeting new people, caring and worrying how I'm coming across to them.

Not that it was actually a problem, Seff carrying our end of the conversation quite adequately, and including me mainly by draping herself over me in a very possessive type of way ... which I didn't mind at all.

I did wish I knew what some of Beate's apparently hilarious German asides meant, though ...

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

Tuesday morning, we'd had a little crisis management meeting in Hertford Square - or, rather, at the cafe, Romano's - the three of us trying to work out what to do for the best. Dave was in hospital - peritonitis, apparently, needing surgery, probably keep him in for a few days, even now - Debbie on her way back - probably - from the Lakes. And PCW were being very unfriendly indeed.

In fact, they'd more or less pulled the plug on the whole thing, their phone call and subsequent e -mail - oh and the impressively complex looking documents they'd couriered over to us a short while later - basically withdrawing any further funding at least until we'd met with them and someone from Carla's mob, a someone who was supposedly flying over early the next week. Which meant that Dave should at least be out of hospital, by then, though none of us knew whether he'd actually be fit to take on something like that. And Debbie was - well, we'd left her some urgent voice mails, but hadn't heard from her. Which was a bit worrying in itself ... I mean, she was often out of mobile signal, out there in the sticks, but she'd always got back to us pretty quickly before. But then, I thought, maybe she'd just chosen the wrong moment to relax, what with having wrapped up all the stuff she'd been up there to do. And being sure that Dave was on hand to deal with stuff around here ...

As it was, Gareth was looking at the documentation from a legal point of view, we were all drinking coffee, smoking and, basically, worrying. It didn't help that no -one knew what had provoked this particular crisis - I wasn't completely sure that there had to be a reason, given my own experience as an employee of the bastards, but that didn't stop the endless circular speculation. Eventually, I came up with a rare burst of assertiveness, called a halt, suggested that we got ourselves back to the office and did something ... if only to take our various minds off the whole situation.

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

Later on we went on to eat at some restaurant down by the cathedral, still not talking much about work - although Rainer and I did get some odd asides in about code and coders we'd known, including a while discussing genetic algorithms in which, I discovered, he had a particular interest. Mostly, though, we talked about their University days and, for a while, about just how Seffi and I had finally got it together after all those years working in the same office. Of course, Seff was only too willing to go into the gory details of the latter - look, I never claimed to be a consummate Lothario, and things could maybe have progressed a little more smoothly than they did, but ... hey, its the result that counts, yes? What I found more interesting, for the moment, was that none of them were being equally open about everything that had gone on between them. I mean, sure there were loads of stories about drunken nights and out -of -hand parties, some references to embarrassing faux pas on the part of themselves or others, but ... there were things that weren't being said, too.
Still, it was a pleasant evening with a fair amount of wine ... and I was a bit surprised when I discovered that it had gone midnight, the restaurant was closing up around us ... and Rainer and Beate were offering to see us back to the hotel.

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

In fact, once we were back in Hertford Square, things got quite focused, quite quickly. Sadly, given that we were supposedly a pretty non hierarchical type of organisation, it took a little bit of Management Intervention to kick start things - such as Debbie finally getting a mobile signal, picking up the messages and getting back to us pronto. Didn't even sound all that surprised when Seffi told her the news - but then, she'd been a reasonably high flier in PCW only a few months ago, so she really did know what they were capable of - but she didn't, Seff told us, sound all that worried either. It seemed more like she was slightly apologetic, apparently - there was something about her having spent the previous evening with some friends she'd made up in Cumbria, having too much of a good time to check for in -coming, but, anyway, she seemed to feel that her delay in getting back to us was a bit more important than the news about PCW ... or even about Dave. Well, maybe she'd had her fill of hospitals, recently, I thought, or maybe she was just being realistic, given that Dave's prognosis was pretty bloody good. Anyway, once they'd got the polite stuff out of the way, she was all business.

And so I found myself working some more on the wind generator idea - patenting the design was a definite according to Debs, so I began to research the process, first off, simultaneously looking for people who could do complex curve machining. In the background, Niusha and Seffi started to work in detail on the New Idea - something about resource distribution in the real world. Didn't take a huge amount of notice, at first - what I did hear was all a bit theoretical for me - but soon enough I got dragged into the discussion, given that Dave had suggested re -jigging some of the CastList code and, as he wasn't here ... I got into it, after a while, began to see that this actually could be a more socially beneficial use of the concept than anything we'd been working on to date.

Wouldn't make us anything like as much money, of course, but ....

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

I think I began to realise that Germany was ... well ... another country ... when we all got back to the hotel. Or maybe just that Germans did things differently ... or maybe, in retrospect, just that Beate and Rainer did things differently ... Whatever. While I admit that I'd thought the place was pretty bloody flash - and Seffi did not seem to have had any complaints when we'd checked in earlier, either - we were now informed in no uncertain terms that it was completely inadequate, that we could not possibly stay there for more than one night. I was quite pleased by that concession, actually - I was kind of knackered and the very large double bed in our room looked extremely attractive - but before I was going to be allowed to get some sleep (or something a bit more fun) I had a quarter hour or so of guttural German discussion to listen to. Largely between Beate and Seffi - though she increasingly became Josepha, I noticed, as the conversation became more and more agitated - with Rainer sitting back on one of the chairs toying with a table lamp and smiling slightly to himself. I wondered, vaguely, what was going on, but frankly I'd got to the point where I just wanted them both to go away and let us get on with being alone together. Which eventually, they did, Beate looking strangely triumphant as she hugged me to say good night ... hugged me very, very closely, to my embarrassment, given that Seff was - well, Seff was being hugged similarly by Rainer... 
Not that I got any hint of what was going on ... or any explanation, anyway. In fact, Seff seemed quite reluctant to talk, or least to be rather keener on getting me into bed, so no problems there ...

Next morning, though, I began to think that something was up when Seff leapt straight out of bed and started packing stuff up before she'd even got dressed, pausing only to collect breakfast from the room service guy - she did grab a towel for that - and then sitting on the bed beside me while we ate, conspicuously shoving bread, cheese or whatever into my mouth every time I tried to ask what the hell was going on. After which, she dragged me into the shower, this time shoving me into her mouth, which, once again, worked quite well in keeping secrets secret. And then we were dressed and out the door, leaving bags and stuff to be picked up later - I still really thought we'd be moving to a new hotel - and went off to see Rainer and Beate at their place of work.

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

Deb got back to London Tuesday afternoon. She went in to see Dave before coming to see us, of course, which I thought was nice - if not particularly productive, given that he'd just been given his pre meds and so wasn't exactly compus mentis. Whatever. Dave would be OK, everyone was sure, and Deb herself looked superb. The fresh air had obviously agreed with her, I thought, she'd given up wearing the subtle make up that used to be so professionally part of her, her hair was loose and quite a lot a lot longer than it had been, she just seemed looser and more relaxed, more vibrant than she'd been before. And, she was pleased with us, what we'd achieved while she'd been away ... and somehow I knew she meant it, was genuinely happy with the changes she saw, with the new code, even with the bloody wind generator ideas. Which made me childishly happy, the more so when I saw Seff was reacting in exactly the same way - she looked a bit like a kitten being stroked behind the ears - and even Niusha was clearly instantly under the spell.

It wasn't even that much of a shock when she abruptly shifted into work mode, huddling in a corner with Seff, going through all the contacts we'd had with PCW, FreiBank, Carla's lot, coming up for air now and then to get my opinion on stuff - I was flattered, even as I realised that it was my job, for god's sake. And, gradually, as I watched, covertly, from where I was pretending to be concentrating on Niusha's Big Idea - Niusha was doing exactly the same thing, of course - I saw a tight smile form on her lips. Not that she gave any hint of what she was thinking, but, clearly, a plan was being formed. And we would find out about it in good time.

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

Rainer and Beate's workplace turned out to be a new build office on a business park in the Neustadt, near the Applied Sciences University, the latter turning out to be a major partner in some of the work they were doing around practical applications of number theory to decision making systems - Rainer tried to explain that, later, but it went over my head a bit: Pure maths was never really my thing, though at least it did explain his interest in CastList and why he/they had contacted Dave in the first place. First impressions, though, was that the place was cool - sort of laid back corporate, lots of big plants around, individual workstations quite widely spaced around a single big room, a lot of high technology on display. Also quite a few high technologists, all seemingly hard at work despite the early hour, all dressed in the standard anything -but -smart casual of their trade even if Rainer, the boss, was wearing a suit that was even snappier - or maybe just weirder - than the day before. I began to feel that I should have invested in a new pair of jeans, or something, wondered if that was why Seff had so quickly chosen an unusual -for -the -office little black dress to wear, not to mention the matching black underwear ... But Rainer was doing the introductions, showing off his team, and I did my best to concentrate, remember names, specialities, all that sort of stuff. I was more or less succeeding, too, until Beate entered the room, wearing a very short white dress of what could even be latex, god help us all, and smiling warmly at Seff and myself. A very short dress - on her, I mean, it would have done as an evening gown for Seff - and with a distinct display of cleavage on show to boot. None of the nerds batted an eyelid, though, so maybe this was normal - or maybe they were just nerds. I went back to concentrating on Rainer and his spiel.

Which continued when we went on through to their meeting room which, I wasn't at all surprised to see, actually had a higher concentration of computers than the work space outside, giving a subtle hint about the sort of meetings these guys probably had. And, indeed, the sort of meeting we proceeded to have. In fact, Rainer had a copy of CastList up and running even before we'd all got ourselves sat down, even before one of the placement students came in and distributed very strong coffee and pastries to all of us. And then he was off, giving me a run down on his ideas for improving the system, how to take it forward to the 'next generation' as he called it. Most of which were good ideas, I felt, but I'd have to admit that that might be because most of them I'd thought of and implemented already. So I loaded up the latest version, yet to be released into the world because Dave had wanted to launch the windows version simultaneously and after that we got properly started. Some time during our discussion Seff and Beate must have gracefully retired because after a while - Rainer was scribbling manically on an interactive whiteboard, trying to explain his ideas on number theory and how they should be instantly applicable to Seff's idea of using psychometric data to engage with the corporates, an idea I'd told him about maybe half an hour before - they came back in. And told us it was time for lunch. In a place by the campus but quite unlike any university cafe I'd ever come across. Well, almost as informal but the food was in a different league. And both Seff and Beate were quite assiduous in swatting either of us - and not lightly, either - if we showed signs of lapsing into tech speak.

In the afternoon, talk turned more towards to the business end of things - we clearly already had ideas we could collaborate on - and that involved the four of us more equitably. At least, until Rainer dropped into the conversation the news that a couple of the bigger research groups at the university itself had expressed a concrete interest in using CastList to refine and focus their team activities ... and suddenly he and Seff were haring away across campus, heading for what he seemed to think would be an easy to arrange impromptu meeting with a bunch of senior academics. Which left Beate and me in the meeting room.

Actually, we still had a lot we could usefully discuss - I'd gathered that B, like Seffi, was more on the marketing side of the operation, though she clearly knew one end of a data bus from another - but somehow she didn't seem quite so focused now that we were alone. Instead, she started talking a lot more about me, how I'd got to be involved in this scenario, what I'd done at college, my outside interests, that sort of thing. Which was all very pleasant, and we did have time to sort the business side of things out later, did need to get to know each other a lot better if we were going to work together. Still, I had this nagging feeling that there were things going on of which I was unaware, some covert agenda that was being played out, one that somehow involved me but which no -one was planning on explaining any time soon. But it was pleasant, and I found myself liking Beate more and more ... she was witty, charming ... and very, very beautiful, even if she was the polar opposite of Seffi, the love of my life ...

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

We all got packed out of the office about five on Tuesday afternoon. Well, Seff, Niusha and I did - Debbie stayed to 'make a couple of phone calls more' - but actually we didn't make anything much of it. She was clearly in charge of the situation and I for one knew that if she'd needed anything from us she would have been more than able to ask us for it. So we went down the pub - Dave's influence having set some collective habits - and talked about nothing very much. Well, Seff and I filled in Niusha on how we'd come to be working for Dave and Deb in the first place, stories which both amused and appalled her in equal measure, I think. And then we went home, all agreeing to get in early the next day, get ourselves prepared for anything that events might throw at us.

Deb beat the lot of us in, of course, so that when Seff and I arrived - a few minutes before Niusha, as it happened - we found her already on the phone, simultaneously writing an e -mail ... and gesturing towards the full pot of coffee sitting on Seff's desk, mugs already lined up beside it. Its that sort of human management that you just don't get at places like PCW, the sort that engenders genuine loyalty amongst the serfs. So, when Deb finally came off the phone, clicking the send button on the mail at exactly the same time in a probably unconscious flourish, she had a rapt audience, eager to a person to do anything and everything she might need.

Only she didn't, really. I mean, I for one would have single handedly stormed PCW HQ with a flame thrower, if she'd asked, but instead she merely suggested that I review Dave's analysis of the FrieBank data - and write up something about the difficulties it presented in terms of our planned work programme - as well as getting myself along to the IP people at the British Library to get the wind turbine stuff started on the way to being patentable. Seff got to get hold of Gareth, sort out an urgent meeting between him and Deb - the next day, as it turned out - and then, pleasingly for me - to make an estimate (actually Deb suggested that a 'wildly optimistic guesstimate' would be more appropriate) about likely markets for small to medium wind turbines in the EU as well as - almost as an afterthought, this - the task of digging through whatever information she could find about Carla's organisation and the people involved. Niusha, Deb asked to think about ideas for using her latest take on the CastList model in some sort of commercially viable - marketable, in other words - way. Oh, and to hold the fort as far as in -coming calls and emails were concerned.

With which, she herself went out. To see Dave, who was scheduled to be out of surgery just about then. Again, its the human touch that makes all the difference. And the fact that she was simply and directly demonstrating her complete confidence in one and all of us. So we got on with it. In a co -operative, amicable and probably deeply subversive - at least in the eyes of PCW and their ilk - sort of way. 
It was fun.

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

Seff came back with Rainer in a noticeably jolly mood - hardly surprising when she explained that the academics that R had rounded up at such short notice had more or less committed themselves to a full scale CastList project, including actually paying our 'corporate' rate for the privilege, and had suggested a couple of other leads in the local pharmaceutical / chemical industries who it would be worthwhile following up. Which was good news, given that, to date, we'd comprehensively failed to get anyone - aside from FrieBank - to sign up to anything even vaguely looking like a paying contract. So Seff shuffled off into a corner of the room - actually, the open plan office's kitchen niche - to phone Debbie and give her the breaking news. I stayed talking to Rainer and Beate.

Both of whom seemed happy with the development, perhaps a little more so than I would have predicted given their somewhat peripheral involvement in these sort of contracts, at least at this stage. Then again, they were old friends of Seffi's and maybe she'd taken some time to fill Rainer in on some of the more difficult aspects of our current situation while she'd been meeting his colleagues. Anyway, I felt, this was hardly the time to be churlish, so I joined in with their joking good humour, much of which was directed at me, focusing on the shyness that Seffi had described in the context of our initial getting together. Beate in particular seemed to be fascinated by this, observing that I'd not had any particular difficulty in relating to her, and wondering why Seff should have been so different. I replied that obviously Beate was a friend of Seff's, a business contact, that the context was completely different. At which point, Rainer raised the stakes somewhat, asking me directly whether or not I found Beate attractive?

"Well, yes," I replied, blushing, "of course. But she's also your wife and, as I've just pointed out, someone I will have to work closely with ... and also my partner's oldest friend. So its a strictly theoretical assessment, I can assure you."

At which point, of course, as Beate gave me what I could only describe as a pout, Seff came back into the meeting room, giving us a quick glance as if wondering what was going on. Which was odd, as I didn't think there was anything terribly untoward in the atmosphere ... but, then she knew these people better than me, so maybe there were signals ... Anyway. Rainer took it on himself to explain the situation - as much to me, apparently, as Seffi herself.

"We were just asking Naz here whether he found Beate attractive, as we had been wondering whether you would like to get to know us both a little better ... a little differently."

He left the thought hanging as I reddened some more and wondered how the fuck to react to that - or the implications within that, anyway. Beate cut in to clarify the situation, which hardly made things any less difficult for me.

"We have a very open marriage, Naz, and, well, in our University days the three of us used to be very ... close. By which I mean that we have all of us slept with each of the others - and with other people, too, of course - sometimes in what might be called unusual combinations. And we think that is something you should know. Oh, we know that you and Josepha are commited to each other and we would not wish to intrude on that, but I also find you attractive. So, given that you will be staying with us for the next few days, we wondered if you would be interested in exploring some options ... perhaps."

I literally didn't know where to look, never mind what to say, so I sort of sat there and tried not to look totally confused. I failed, of course, but I did manage to gather some thoughts - I mean, Seff had told me about some of the games they'd played in the past before we came over here, and, hell, I'd had a few 'odd' encounters of my own. Sadly, though, the latter had taught me that, at least in my opinion, group sex was a bit over -rated - I felt that the essence of making love, as opposed to fucking, was precisely to concentrate on the needs and desires of the intimate other, which could be difficult when in the middle of a heap of gasping, groaning etc bodies. Perhaps more to the point, depending on just what was being suggested here, I also knew that - again, for me - gay sex was nothing abhorrent but not actually exciting, either. In fact, it was an experiment I was in no hurry to repeat. 

While all this was churning through my brain, I found myself looking at Seff, wondering what she thought of it all. She had a strange expression on her face, a mixture of concern and exasperation, I thought, but then ... if we were really moving from the hotel into Beate and Rainer's place, she must have known something like this was on the cards. So how much of it had been set up, how much of it had she party to ... and why hadn't she told me in advance? She must have realised what I was thinking, because she came over and sat beside me, put her hand on my knee.

"Strange as it may seem," she said, "this wasn't all planned. I mean, I knew these guys proclivities - I've told you about stuff that happened in the past, after all - and, well, I knew this sort of thing might come up, but I wasn't expecting it so soon." She glanced at Rainer, "And I hoped to be able to talk to you about it, once you'd had the chance to get to know them, but I need you to know that nothing of the sort goes on without your active consent. You're more precious to me than any amount of casual sex - even with old friends - and I don't want to put you into any sort of situation you're not 100% comfortable with. Hell, you want to head back to the hotel - head back to London - I'll be right there with you."

I realised that she was actually worried that I might storm out of the place - out on her, too - which I thought was ridiculous but touching, so I reached out and pulled her into a hug. I thought for a second longer, watching Rainer looking slightly arrogantly aloof, Beate evidently anxious.

"No - I don't feel the need to head back to London, I'm an adult and not totally unfamiliar with these sort of situations. Nor do I feel like checking back into the hotel - even if only to avoid having to explain the credit card bills to Debbie. As for the rest of it ... I don't know." I looked directly at Rainer, "For instance, I'm not into sex with men, nor overly into group sex - for various reasons. And as to whether I want to sleep with Beate ... well, I would need to be sure it wouldn't impact on my relationship with Seff, who I assume would be sleeping with Rainer - not for the first time, I know - and ... well, I'd have to think about it."

All of which I thought was quite reasonable. You know, very British - - calm, collected, considered. And completely wide of the mark. Which is probably why they all collapsed in hysterics. Or at least, Seff and Beate did. Rainer limited himself to a fairly glassy smile, at first.

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

I got a chance to drop into Dave on my way back from the IP - intellectual property - advice service at the British Library in the afternoon. Brought him a bunch of grapes, of course, even if he couldn't eat and, as it turned out, didn't actually like grapes, but its kind of expected, so I did. And he appreciated the irony, so he was obviously on the mend ... very obviously given that he was already bemoaning the lack of WiFi on the ward, plugging away at me for news about what had happened since his sudden departure from the office.
 
Luckily, Debs had given me a prepared line on that one so I talked a lot about Seff and my plans for leaving for Bremen in the evening, got him to share some of his own tales of travelling in Northern Europe, and consequently completely avoided any mention of our on -going crisis. Well, the bloke was ill, for god's sake, and none of us exactly relished the thought of him leaping out of bed and doing himself further damage in a futile attempt to help. And by this time, I knew it would be futile - or, rather, unnecessary: Deb seemed to have things pretty much in control, Gareth was making positive noises from his City law firm bunker and ... well, things looked a bit more positive than they had for some days. Only we needed Dave to be fit for the meeting next week, so ... we kept him in the dark. At least, I thought as I finally left to go back to the office, I hadn't actually had to directly lie to him. I'm not good at lying ... my ears go red.

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OK, I thought, here I am, in a conference room in a technology centre on the edge of a university campus on the North German coast. I'm here to discuss technological collaboration with old friends of my partner and colleague, discussions which have so far been going fairly well. Only now, here, in this room, I am sitting with two women laughing rather hysterically, while the fourth party in our negotiations has just rather stiffly excused himself and left. Like, walked out. Without saying good bye.

I wondered if anyone was going to explain anything, any time soon. They did.

Not that I was sure it made any sense, at least at first, but it seemed that I'd got hold of the wrong end of the stick - well, at least that was reassuringly familiar. On further exploration, somewhat exasperated explanation by the end of it, I managed to piece together some of the facts of which I'd previously been unaware. Of which only the first was that Beate and Raine's marriage was considerably more unusual than he'd implied - or than I'd assumed, at any rate. In fact, his years of sexual - umm - exploration had left him with needs with which Beate had long ago grown unwilling to accommodate. I didn't really need the details but I gathered these involved other men and birch canes - and such like ... In any case, although they were still close, indeed, were planning on kids and all that sort of thing, they no longer did the beast with two backs stuff for fun. And, so, what was apparently on offer was that Seff, Beate and I might wish to spend some quality time together, en masse or in various combinations of couples, depending on my preferences, while Rainer went off and did ... well, whatever he did.

All of which put a strangely different light on the situation, I'm almost ashamed to say.

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

Back in the office, things were almost cheerful - May from CareSpan had dropped in to say hello to Debbie and get the latest on Dave, so I got involved pretty much instantly in a discussion with her and Niusha regarding the Next Big Thing, while Seff and Debbie talked about arrangements for the crux Meeting. She'd decided it should be held at Hertford Square as it was our home patch - even if PCW owned the place - which needed a fair amount of logistical work, given that we only actually possessed five chairs and she thought 'They' would probably turn up with more lawyers than that. Also, we didn't yet know who - or how many - would be coming from the States, nor whether Gareth would be able to be there - even if he'd effectively burnt his bridges with his current employers by telling them that he intended to be ... which I thought was a nice show of confidence. Or maybe bloody mindedness. Anyway, there was a fair amount to sort out, though I'm vicariously proud of the fact that Seff had pretty much everything that could be done at this stage well wrapped up by the time we were due to leave for the boat train. And, to be honest, I was pretty pleased with myself, given that I'd got a big chunk of the revised version of CastList working - OK, not tested and no 'user -friendliness' as yet - within the same ridiculously short time scale.
And so, to our vast surprise, no last minute surprises came up to derail our plans and we didn't even feel particularly guilty about leaving the office on schedule, accepting a big hug each from Debbie before we left, assuring her again that, telecoms wise, the Freie Hansestadt Bremen had a bit of an edge on the Lake District ... and that, anyway, we'd both be back early the next week - earlier, if the Meeting ended up being on Monday. And then we were off, Debs already back on the phone to California even as we were heading down the stairs.

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

I have to admit that I felt a bit weird when we all went to eat at yet another restaurant in the Old Town. I mean, its not often that you and your girlfriend go out with another couple in the expectation that you'll both be sleeping with one of them while the other one goes off on his own. Add in the fact that in this case the Other was apparently going to go and get himself whipped and ... well, it must be my sheltered up bringing or something but I found it all very strange. Rainer, too, was a trifle reserved - as well he might be, I thought - but Seff and Beate kept up a fairly good attempt at witty repartee throughout the meal and generally we kept everything polite and, you know, adult. And drank a vast quantity of wine.

I didn't actually see Rainer go - he must have slipped out when I went to deal with the excess liquid I'd consumed - but apparently this was OK, too. Actually, by that time I was fairly far gone - a combination of the alcohol and the situation itself, I think - so I was more than happy to find myself bundled into a taxi, all of us sitting in the none too large rear seat, and finally decanted into Rainer and Beate's home - another very flash temple of high technology and bespoke design, but one which seemed to lack any real humanity. I wondered who was responsible for the decor - I thought Beate had more of a sense of fun than was evidenced here - but that got me thinking about Rainer again so I shut the thought away, sat myself on a sofa and wondered what would happen next, given that both women had disappeared into the kitchen more or less as soon as we'd entered the building.

What happened, of course, was that more wine appeared, along with a rather lovely carved soapstone chillum and a pile of what might even have been Thai sticks. Oh, and two very nearly nude women - Seff stripped down to a lacy black bra and pants combination, Beate having lost the fetishy dress in favour of a green silk camisole and ... well, and nothing else at all, actually. Her breasts - much larger than Seff's but without the exquisite pointy -ness that I was so taken by - brushed my knee as she leant in front of me, handing me a glass of wine and the necessaries. I began to say something about gender stereotyping - just because I'm male doesn't mean I have to do all the rolling and filling and all that - but Seff stopped me from talking by the entertaining means of stepping round behind me and beginning to pull my t -shirt over my head. Which, of course, meant that I had to give Beate everything back - the inefficiency of it all, I thought - but luckily she took Seff's hint, put the whole lot on the floor and simply got on with removiong my shoes. And then my jeans. The briefs came off with them, naturally enough, leaving me completely nude, dick pointing at the ceiling and kind of wobbling around ... and the two of them stepped back, went to sit on a couch opposite and suggested that I get on with packing the chillum. So I did, while they sat and watched, giving a running commentary in German the while. You never know, it might have been my construction skills they were talking about ... even if that definitely wasn't what they were looking at ...

As my dad used to say endlessly, however, a job worth doing is a job worth doing well, so I ignored the two of them the best I could - even when Seff started playing with B's nipples through the camisole  - and concentrated on the task in hand. And then I sat back, had a long sip of the wine, fiddled a bit more with the thing, spent some time neatly tying the black silk cloth around the base ... and finally handed the thing to Beate to light. Which she did sitting up cross legged on the couch, leaning back and giving me - and Seff - a fine view of her very blonde pubes. Which, I noted, were already visibly glistening, even in the low light in the room ... and even as Seff reached out to confirm the observation, running her fingers along her friend's outer labia, slowly raising it to sniff the odour, grinning at me the while. Beate caught the exchange, began to laugh ... and then choke as she took an inadvertently deep drag on the pipe. And Seff and I began laughing too, both of us moving in to offer comforting hugs and strokes ... and ... things ... gradually subsiding into a heap on the carpeted floor ...

Which is where I woke up the next morning, Beate's right breast pressed into my face, Seff's head lying on my thigh just by my crotch, still wearing the bra, I noticed vaguely, albeit without it interfering at all with my view of her tits. I felt I could enjoy this sort of situation, certainly it compared well to many other awakenings I had had, so I lay still and relaxed, reviewing the events of the evening - and the night, and most of the early hours of the morning - with a self satisfied grin on my face. Until, of course, the need to relieve myself overtook the reverie and I was forced to peel myself away, do the necessary and - being kind and considerate - pause to make some coffee for the crew before returning to the living room, where both women were still soundly asleep, albeit now snuggled up against each other. I sat on the couch and watched for a while, then gradually and quietly began to clean the mess we'd left around the room. Well, one of the couches looked like it would need dry cleaning, given the stains, but I did remove the assorted clothing, the glasses, a dildo and a quantity of used condoms that frankly surprised me. As did the fact that I found the chillum, too, realised that it had only ever been half smoked, the wine also left undrunk. It had been an interesting evening, I thought - as if my tender genitals were not sufficient evidence of that -and wondered whether I ought to wake people or just keep on watching them, at least for a while ...

In fact, as always, the smell of caffeine did for Seff - its almost a Pavlovian response - and she in turn woke Beate when she began to crawl towards her first fix of the morning. So I greeted them both as warmly as I could - given the current state of my anatomy - and we ended up sitting on the cleaner couch in a sort of mutual hug, gently stroking each others more tender bits and kissing whatever happened to be available at any given moment. It was a tender, loving and completely lascivious scene, especially in the front room of a suburban house early on a weekday morning.

And, of course, that's when Rainer chose to make his return. He didn't say a word as he passed the three of us.

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