Part I
Uma:

"Get your bloody hands off me! What do you mean calm down, ma'am? I will not calm down. I am an innocent victim of authoritarian heavy handedness. Just you wait until I get home. Tony Blair will hear about this."

"Actually, ma'am, you are an illegal entrant to this country. As such we can, and will, arrest you until we decide if you should be deported or prosecuted."

"Prosecuted? Illegal? I don't even bloody want to be here! New Bloody Orleans? That is about the last fucking place in the world I want to be. I don't even know how I got here. Let me go home!"

"Then why did you attempt to hijack a plane?"

"What??? I didn't do that!"

"You stood up and shouted: 'Take me to Kuala Lumpur. This minute!' Kuala Lumpur is the capital of Malaysia. Malaysia is a Muslim nation. In the current climate that looks very suspicious."

"I got on the wrong plane! That isn't even my fault. How can your security be so fucking lax that I can get on a plane with the wrong boarding card?"

"Your boarding card says American Airlines to New Orleans."

"Well, it shouldn't. My ticket didn't say that - look!"

"OK. So that checks out. But you did attack several in-flight stewards."

"I did not."

"You threw your tray of food."

"I didn't! I just stood up quickly and it overturned."

"What about the drink that you tossed at a neighbour?"

"Turbulence. Look you cannot seriously think that I look like a dangerous terrorist..."

"Anyone can be a dangerous terrorist."

"Please. I know someone in New Orleans who can vouch for me. She will tell you that this is a mistake..."

Get the picture? There was I relaxing back on the plane as we hit 30,000 feet when I heard the captain speaking. "Welcome aboard this non stop flight to New Orleans." I honestly thought I was asleep and having a nightmare. I wasn't. Then the madness began. By the time I was being escorted under guard through the arrivals hall, I had had enough. There was only one thing left to do.

Cry.

 So I did. I just burst into tears and bawled my eyes out.

Then I heard this voice; it could have stopped the traffic in Piccadilly Circus:

"Unhand that woman this instant! God, damn your eyes, man, I'll have you flogged for a cur and a poltroon!"

I found myself staring at a tall, bronzed, handsome man, built like a brick shit-house (i.e. just the way I like them) with sea green eyes and long blonde hair tied back. He looked vaguely familiar.

"Now, sir, if you please, this is none of your business. I'd be mighty grateful if you would simply back off and mind your own fucking business."

"My business? This young maiden is, without a doubt, a subject of His Majesty George III..." A slightly built man accompanying my erstwhile defender, grabbed his arm and whispered something in his ear... "Really? Do you smoke that, eh? A woman on the throne again...well, well, well, they'll have them commanding ships next...This gentle lady is a subject of Her Majesty Elizabeth II.... and as such her welfare falls directly under my care. I take it 'pon myself, sir, to offer my protection to this fair lady. Under the Articles of War..."

"OK, that's enough. Pull that joker as well. Could be an accomplice. Read him his rights..."

"PUT ONE HAND ON ME, YOU FILTHY COLONIAL BASTARD SON OF A POX-RIDDEN STRUMPET, AND I'LL...."

"God- Jack!!!!!" I shouted in abject amazement. "It's me. Uma!"

Ann:

I'd planned for us to leave with plenty of time to spare, but then I have this thing about airports. As much as I hate flying, I do like going to airports for some reason. But the New Orleans International Airport, recently re-named for favored-son Louis Armstrong, is not the place to mess around if time's not on your side.

For one very important reason, my friends. The place is guarded by the New Orleans Police Department. Little hint - if one of those boys in blue with the gold crescent badge ever gives that curt wave to ask you to pull over or move your car, do it. Don't argue. Don't sass. Don't be cute. Don't flirt. Just do it. DO IT. Because our cops do not mess around with sorry asses and you'll be so fucking sorry if you think you can ever argue with a member of NOPD.

Now, Terry, of course being Terry, thought I was anxious and leaving early for another reason.

"Jack's plane isn't due for another hour," he whispered to me as I was trying to get dressed. "You're not his yet. You're still with me. Supposed to be me and you until he's here, remember?"

"Terry, I swear to God if you're not ready to go in ten minutes, I'm leaving without you. If you think I'd let Jack get here and wander around while I'm ..."

"I don't need ten minutes to be ready, Annie. I'm ready now. Feel."

Okay, so we were late getting started. Is that a crime?

Oops. Maybe if we'd been there at the time I'd wanted to, we wouldn't have been dealing with the NOPD that day.

I parked in a special area of the parking garage that was set aside for people far more important than me. But I had connections ... didn't use them very often ... and certainly not for things like this ... but we were late and I didn't want Jack to be worried.

Jack. Oh God. I'd been so flippant about how he'd react to Terry and me finding our way back to each other. But in my mind, I saw that I'd be telling him when it was just us two. When I'd be able to remind him of what only Jack and I had.

Course, things got a bit complicated when Terry decided to stay over another night to meet Jack. So now, Jack was going to come walking off that plane thinking he'd be seeing only me and instead he was going to come face to face with Terry before I even had a chance to explain.

And we were late. I cannot stand being late. I was bitching almost non-stop at Terry while he smirked. As I parked the car, I turned to bitch some more but I caught something in his eyes. "Terry? You do know I love you and that I'm going to miss being alone with you? Are you really ready to see me with Jack? I mean, I know you, and I just want to be sure you're not going to feel ..."

"I'll be fine. On my best behavior. I'll only fondle you when his back's turned."

Making me laugh. "Smart ass," I growled out.

We were rushing toward the gates, hoping his plane was late, when I heard him. A voice of thunder that made me look upwards to see if the glass panels overhead were about to crash down.

"Oh fuck me." Terry came to a hard stop. 

I would have looked at him, but I was too busy watching Jack bellowing at three NOPD officers, an NOPD detective who was a friend of mine, a Customs investigative agent I knew and two federal air marshals. And, as disturbing as that picture was, it was seeing a very alive, very lively Dr. Stephen Maturin at Jack's elbow that might have actually been the most flabbergasting sight of all.

"Fuck me is right. What the heck is he doing bringing Stephen back with him?"

"Who the fuck's Stephen? I'm talking about Uma." Terry pointed and that's when I saw this woman, crying and hanging onto Jack while one of the NOPD uniformed cops had a grip on her arm.

"I cannot handle this," I muttered, a sinking feeling dragging my heart to my gut. "When did my life turn into a freak show?"

"This is gonna be fun." Terry looked at me with this huge grin. I could have slugged him hard. "Let's go join the party, shall we?"

Uma:

"Terry! Oh my God, Terry. Thank God, you're here! Please explain to these people that I am not a threat to internal security."

"Ma'am, who is that?"

"My boyfriend."

"The man with his arm round that other woman is your boyfriend?"

"Yes... it's complicated. She's his mother or something." Look, I was thinking on my feet! "Terry, tell them who I am."

"Excuse me, Miss. Do I know you?"

"TERRY! Please do not arse about now. This is really serious."

Ann:

Fucking Terry. I was trying to wrestle his arm from its firm grip around my waist while I was already smiling at the detective and the Customs guy.

"Michael. Where y'at, man? How's your mamma? And Ray? Since when do you slum at the airport? Trolling for illegal oranges again?" Talking fast, trying to dial down the tension in the air.

They looked at each other, at Terry who refused to let me go, at Uma who was still babbling at Terry, at Jack who was looking redder than I'd ever seen him and back at me. Michael, a detective I'd known from my days as a crime reporter, started laughing. "Why does it somehow seem appropriate you'd wander in here just now, Ann? Tell me you don't actually have something to do with these crazy Brits?"

Smile plastered on my face and I went immediately into my old professional routine. "Someplace we can talk this out? Okay with you, Ray? I think I can clear it up."

Boy, things would have gone so smoothly at this point. In a back room, away from witnesses, I knew I could straighten this out, whatever it was. But I didn't reckon on Jack.

"Blast you, sir. You will unhand my lady this instant, you ..." In a voice that even Terry jumped at. His hand slipped from its hold on me and Jack stopped in mid sentence to look at me full on.

Poor Jack. 

"Hi, sweetie," I said weakly. "Welcome home."

Uma:

It was one of those moments when I could have cheerfully strangled Terry except my hands couldn't span his neck...I found myself drifting off at the thought of his neck, displayed to perfection in the V-necked T-shirt he was wearing...just a little bit of chest hair showing...I caught his eye. He was smiling at me and then he winked. We stared - everyone else seemed to disappear; Jack's voice receded into the distance, the immigration officials vanished and I was lost in his gaze. Sometimes I think there is some uncanny bond between us. We often start the same conversation simultaneously. The unspoken is stronger than the spoken in our heads. I read pages in his look. He simply mouthed, "Gotcha!"

I wrinkled my nose and sniffed. If only he would take his damned hand from her waist. What was that about? OK, he was winding Jack up - although why Jack should piss him off that much was a worry in itself. Sure, he was teasing me - but what kicks did he get out of that? I didn't deserve it. Perhaps it wasn't a conscious act? Do you think he is just trying to hang on to the last touch as long as he can? Who can blame him? Ann is something else - exactly the sort of woman for a man like Terry. Attractive, smart, confident, professional and assertive - nothing phases her. She can talk the same language as him; she has the same cool, professional detachment and acute reading of situations; she is diplomatic, shrewd and chooses every word carefully.

I haven't a chance, have I? All I can do is hang onto Jack's arm and cry like a stupid schoolgirl. Or open my big mouth and dig a hole big enough to bury myself in. Terry must think me completely pathetic. No wonder he isn't even remotely interested in rescuing me. That's probably what he wants:  Jack and me deported and then he can set up house with Nancy Drew, the Cub Reporter. But I look at him again and his eyes say something else. He can never hide his eyes. I mouth back, "Help me!"

Ann:

Thankfully, Ray and Michael had finally agreed to move our little show away from the concourse and into one of the back interrogation rooms. But even there, even with the stakes seeming so high, Terry was worse than useless to me. He was still trying to be an instigator. He was leaving all the heavy work to me. And he was laying his Australian accent on so thick that all the investigators in that room were convinced they'd uncovered some plot in which all our English-speaking allies were suddenly plotting against our internal security.

And Uma. My sweet Lord. That woman talks like you cannot believe. So fast, so sharp, so fucking British. And pretty foul. Bet she doesn't tell you that. Us Americans in the room were defenseless in the face of her onslaught.

I couldn't even really look at Jack. He'd gone totally quiet and when I'd glance at him, he was watching Terry with this bewildered look in his eyes. I knew he knew who Terry was by then and I felt like my heart would break at what Jack must have been suffering. He probably thought I'd misled him, that I'd known Terry would be coming while Jack was gone but that I hadn't told him.

It was with immense relief that Michael and Ray pulled me out of that room, saying they wanted to confer in the hall. I rose from my seat, crooked a finger at Terry as I went to follow them. He instantly jumped up to join us and I saw him wink at Uma just before the calm negotiator professional look settled in over that handsome face.

In the hall, he folded his arms and leaned against the wall while I faced the two investigators.

"So, you know them?" Ray asked me.

"Yes. They're all friends of mine."

Michael snorted as we heard a fresh round of Uma's voice waft through the door. "And you'd really claim them?"

"C'mon, ya'll. How likely is it she'd make that up? So she got on the wrong plane ..."

"Air rage," Michael said.

"No visa," Ray said.

"There's a simple explanation, I'm sure," Terry said quietly.

"She called me a poncy bastard, whatever that is," Michael said.

"Yeah? Well, she called me a fucking knobhead. Least that's what I think she said," Ray said.

"She tried to slap one of my officers," Michael said.

"She hissed at one of the air marshals," Ray said.

"Give me a break," I groaned.

I looked at the two investigators and a second later, the three of us all started laughing so hard we had to hold each other up.

"You got some weird friends," Ray said, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah. Like Michael," I said, trying to find a Kleenex to blot my tears.

"Hey, you're dissing me and I'm standing right here," Michael said, handing me a handkerchief.

"So, fellas, what's the bottom line here? How do we make this disappear?" I asked them.

"Baby, I'd do anything for you, you know that, right?" Michael said. "Look, I'm willing to concede that if she truly had her boarding pass messed up by the airlines, then, yeah, it'd be understandable she'd be upset and I think I could overlook what happened as a result. After all, she talks at you enough to make your ears bleed but she never really hurt anyone."

We both looked at Ray and he shook his head. "Not that easy on my end, Ann. We'll need to investigate the foul up and there's the matter of the visa. We'll have to hold her a few days."

"Hold her? You must be ... As in, put her in jail? How is that fair, Ray? She's telling the truth. I'd stake my reputation on it. And it's not like she's going anywhere."

"Listen, mate, we're in the same business here," Terry said and I knew he recognized, finally, that he had to help instead of ramping it up. He pulled out his credentials and Ray examined them. "Why don't you call this number in Washington? See if you won't feel a bit more like helping us out here."

Ray whipped out his cell phone, strolled down the hall and we waited out his conversation. When he came back, he seemed to like Terry a whole lot more than he had earlier. Like they were compadres.

But it was still me he was going to make twist in the wind.

"How far out on a limb are you willing to go for her?" Ray asked me.

"I'll sign her out on my recognizance. Would you go for that?"

He looked hard at me. Then at Terry. Then shrugged. The asshole. Obviously, whatever number Terry had given him had convinced him to be nice about this in a way I would never have been able to.

Another fresh outpouring of Uma's raised voice and Ray was ready to move quickly. "Anyway, if I tossed her ass in the NOPD's jail, they'd come and shoot me within an hour. No way are they gonna be happy to deal with that hellcat," he said. "Let me clear it with the boss. I'll release her to your custody, Ann, because you're the local resident. But you better keep her close until we get this straightened out or no amount of fancy D.C. contacts will help. Because if we find out she's lying, I'll arrest her ass and I better be finding her next to you when I come looking for her. Got it?"

I nodded so hard I almost gave myself whiplash. While he was gone, I asked Michael, "Do you think it would be possible to find a place where I can talk to the British gentleman alone? The big one with long hair?"

His eyes examined me. "If I didn't know you better, I'd be asking you what kind of strange things were going on. But, sure, you can use the room next door. I'll bring him to you."

When he came in the room, Jack was still in his quiet mode. He watched me move toward him but his arms were not reaching out for me. I put my hand on his cheek and I could have cried at the look in those eyes staring out at me.

"Beloved," I breathed to him. "I'm so sorry this has happened."

Uma:

So this group of cloned red necks seemed to be enjoying watching Stephen and me sweat. The one called Ray came back into the interview room, followed by Terry who looked a little more intimidating at last. He had on that quiet, business-like expression that usually means he is at his most formidable best. When he's listening and thinking and looks so serious and imposing that I wish I could rip his clothes off and fuck him across the interview desk. I wonder if that passes through his mind at times like that? Probably not.

While the clowns whispered amongst themselves and Terry leant back on the wall taking it all in, I at last got a chance to introduce myself to Stephen.

"I am so delighted to meet you, Doctor Maturin. I do so wish we could have met in happier circumstances." I extended my hand; to my surprise he turned it over and kissed it.

"Dear lady, I am greatly relieved that we were there to assist you in this dreadful happenstance. You have been sorely treated by these buffoons and, if I may say, by the one man here who should be protecting you. It is a constant wonder to me how gentlewomen fall under the spell of such mountebanks. Such is the complex mystery of the Venusian psyche..."

"Sir, are you referring to Terry Thorne?"

"The same, my lady."

"He isn't a mountebank! He just knows that with one phone call he can sort this all out and in the meantime he is enjoying the show. If he thought I was in any real danger, he would not allow anything to harm me."

Stephen bowed slightly. "Then I trust to your opinion, madam. But past experience teaches me to remain cautious. I will reserve my judgement. One word of advice, I beg of you, dear lady. Restrain your natural loquacity, rein in your fiery spirit, choose words of delicacy and compromise! These are uneducated and base fellows. They will not see your true nobility. May I ask you one private question, for I think it does not carry with it the pejorative nuance that it might in my day? Are you a daughter of Eireann? Perhaps even a member of the Church of Rome? I have rarely met an English woman of such unrestrained passion. They are generally more phlegmatic, haughty and (dare I say it?) cold. With the exception of my dear Diana that is..."

"Yes. I am of Irish family. That obvious, hey? I'll try to keep my mouth shut but they had better stop asking such puerile questions..."

"OK, ma'am. Let's just start on your statement...name"

"Name? You've got my fucking passport in your hand! Can't you read?"

A voice cut in. One word. Usually enough. "Uma!"

I glanced at Terry; he was not laughing this time. I gave my full name and settled to answering the litany of trite questions to which they already knew the answers.

"Okay, that's more like it. How do you know Ann?"

I bit my lip. "We belong to a writer's forum. We know each other via email. This is the first time we have met."

"And Mr. Thorne? How well acquainted are the two of you?"

"None of your fucking business!"

"I've warned you about your attitude, Miss. It is not helping your case. I am trying to establish the extent of your knowledge of the people who are offering to vouch for you."

"Knowledge? Of Mr. Thorne? Well, he's got a birthmark on his..."

"Uma!" I caught his eye and looked down but I was smirking. Strike One! 

"Uma and I live together. She is my ...partner."

The guy called Ray looked confused and then shrugged. But then he added.

 "Might explain the young lady's obvious distress. If my wife caught me with my arm round Ann, she'd have it off at the shoulder." I grinned. Strike Two! Terry looked distinctly uncomfortable. He excused himself and left the room.

The tone of the interview changed. I gave my statement, Stephen gave his and we were left alone while the paperwork was carried out. I cannot imagine anyone I would prefer to have been left alone with at that moment. Stephen Maturin is the most agreeable of companions.

Ann:

"I would have given anything for you to have heard about this the right way, Jack. You know that don't you?" I looked in those eyes, the ones that normally were lit from inside with affection and warmth when they were aimed my way.

"This is the gentleman of whom you have been so enamored? He hardly seems worthy of your interest," Jack told me. "He behaved most abysmally to Miss Uma. Not at all stepping in to see to her interests. And she is most wickedly set against you, my dear."

"She'll be fine, sweetie. The only person I'm at all concerned with is you. I need you to understand that I never knew he was coming to see me, Jack."

"And now that he has, sweetheart? What of us?"

Smiling into him and so eternally gratified when his arms came around me. "He has nothing to do with us, Jack. You'll never lose my heart."

"Truly? You can still say this, sweetheart. I wonder ..."

"Do you remember telling me you could read everything about me in my kiss?" I looked up at Jack and he nodded at me. "Perhaps you'd like to look for your answer in my lips, Jack."

God. Jack read my lips like a blind man reads the Bible in Braille. With supreme dedication, faith and enthusiasm to last the long haul.

Wonder how many minutes later Michael was rapping at the door and stepping in to find us? We didn't move fast enough, Jack and I. He still had me pinned against the top of the conference room table and I still had my hands down his pants. That much I do know.

This I also know. Jack had his answer about us. And we'd agreed that any discussions about Terry could come later.

I walked into the hall still straightening out my shirt and smoothing my hair down. Caught Terry's eyes and read him instantly. Christ. When had my life turned into this carnival of absurdity? I felt like I would need to flip a coin to decide which of these two men, both so incredibly important to me, I'd offend next.

Ray was waiting by the entrance to the other room. The one that still held Uma and Stephen. "Everything okay?" he asked me with this delighted twinkle in his eye as he took in what I knew was my flushed face of discomfort in the circumstances I found myself in.

"Next time I run into Caroline, I'll be sure to tell her what a gent you've been to me," I sassed him, referring to his wife and a friend of my cousin's. Hey, New Orleans is a small town in a lot of ways.

We all trooped in the conference room.

Ray said to Uma: "Ma'am, your friend here has vouched for you. You owe her quite a lot. It's because of her you won't be a guest of the New Orleans city jail while we get this straightened out. Now, here's the deal. We're letting her sign you out on her recognizance since we trust her. But we don't trust you very much. And may I just give you a bit of advice? Next time you're in our city, do not curse at cops."

"Tell her the terms of her temporary release," Terry said and I wondered how he kept a straight face because I instantly knew he was going to love Uma's reaction.

I, on the other hand, was pretty sure I wasn't going to like it at all. She scared me something fierce in person and yet I'd known her for quite some time by that point. We were buddies but ... well, there was the little matter of Terry that both brought us together and separated us. We both adored him. And no matter that Uma and I were close friends, the subject of Terry was a minefield. And even though she was the one who'd sent Terry back to New Orleans, intent on having Terry and I find a resolution to what we would be to each other in the Game, I knew Uma well enough to know that the very last thing she'd ever want would be to have to actually witness the very renewal of our relationship that she'd set in motion.

And now she was about to find out that she was going to have to face it full on, in living color and on my turf. She'd sacrificed a lot for me and Terry. But that didn't mean she didn't have conflicting emotions about it. We'd talked about this and I knew she was struggling and not totally positive she'd done the right thing.

Face it. This was a disaster in the making. Nuclear meltdown. There was a real risk here that things could turn very ugly if we couldn't all be mature about being tossed together very much against our will. A volatile mix - Terry, Uma, Jack and I. Would Terry and Uma survive? Would Jack and I make it? Would Terry and I come through this? Would Jack and Terry emerge with bad blood between them? Would Uma and I ever be the same? Stephen might have been the only sane one, the only one not in the vortex.

If I hadn't known any better, I'd have said the Gods were messing with us.

Uma's eyes narrowed as Ray told her, "You will stay in Ann's custody. In other words, the furthest you should be from her is shouting distance. I'd say she should keep you within her field of vision at all times, but I kinda like Ann and I'd hate to inflict that on her."

"Ray. Quit fucking around," I told him.

"What do you mean I have to stay in her custody?" Uma asked, her voice sounding just a bit slower than it had been but she still sounded clearly displeased.

"She's taking you to her home and you'll stay with her until we get all the paperwork figured out. Check out your story. Maybe a couple of days," Ray said.

"Could I go to the Gulag Archipelago instead?" came shooting out of Uma's mouth. From the corner of my eye I could see her fingers form a cross in my direction as if to ward off a vampire.

Terry flew right back with, "Don't tempt me."

I noticed a flicker in Uma's eyes and then she smiled crookedly at Ray. "I have this friend who's a police officer. He's so cute. He has a hair cut just like yours! I love to run my hands across his hair. Feels like velvet." She made as if to touch his head. Ray stepped back.

A tiny groan from me and I looked at Terry. He was shaking his head at Uma and neither of us stopped her. Frankly I'm not sure anyone could have.

"But you know, he's nowhere near as good-tempered you are. What does it take to get your blood up, sweetie?"

Ray's cheeks turned ruddy and he cleared his throat as the other cops in the room hid chuckles as best as they could.

"Instead of leaving me with Ann, maybe you'd rather have me as your house guest for a while? You got any cuffs? The other officer - he lets me play with his cuffs."

"Uma," I said and she barely acknowledged me even though I was speaking quite distinctly. "Ray's married."

"So? I quite fancy married men. They always seem so grateful when you..."

Suddenly, Stephen put his hand over her mouth.

Terry leaned toward me and whispered, "If she mentions fucking White once more..."

"She hasn't actually mentioned that yet, Terry honey, but I guess that's coming," I replied, trying to find the humor in this situation.

His hand still clamped to her mouth, Stephen said, "Why, Miss Uma, you seem to be running a fever. I have some medication here with me that will do wonders for this problem. Here drink some of this for me. Three drops should be capital for the task. There's a good girl."

I was going to have to buy Stephen something really nice for that save.

A half hour later, we were finally at the car. Almost out of danger. Stowing baggage in the back of my mini-SUV. And five grown adults, with most of us trying hard to act like adults, were shuffling in to take seats. Uma was deep into flirting. She'd given up on Jack and Terry, though. She was onto Stephen. Literally.

"I do not understand this at all. This tincture has always had a sedative effect. But it seems to produce a distinctly different effect on Miss Uma. I have never met a woman who has required a higher dosage to bring on the benefits of Morpheus. She must have a wondrous constitution for such a slip of a girl," Stephen said, his flushed face peering at Terry. Probably wondering when Terry would punch him for messing with his lady.

"You've never been on the piss with her, mate. She could drink most men under the table," Terry growled between gritted teeth.

Uma giggled and whispered something in Stephen's ear that made him sweat. I shook my head.

"How did I get myself in this mess? I must be in an alternative universe," I muttered as I headed toward home.

Part II

Uma:

I woke up in a room in a strange house. Well, it wasn't strange; actually it was a very charming house, but strange in the sense that I didn't have a bloody clue where I was. There was a sort of vague dream about being arrested and wanting to kill Terry but it was all mixed up with some scenes from Treason's Harbour, my latest POB novel.

I rubbed my eyes, rolled over and...

"You slept it off then, Mata Hari?" Terry was sitting in an armchair and reading.

"Where am I? Is this a dream?" I sat up groggily.

"No, fucking nightmare. Baby, you got on the wrong plane, abused everyone in a mile radius of the Louis Armstrong Airport, made sexual advances to both a police officer and a doctor, were extremely insulting to Ann who was trying to help you, almost revealed the ins and outs of the warped games you and psycho cop play... have I left anything out? Oh yes, it took a dose of laudanum to put you under. I've just ordered a container load on the 'net."

I put my head in my hands and groaned. "Oh shit!"

"Yeah, shit. You have got some bridges to mend now. Get showered, changed and we will have a nice sweet face on tonight. You got that? Be civilised. Talk to Stephen and keep your hands out of his pants. Keep well away from Jack Tar. Eat your greens and shut up. And most of all, be polite and friendly to Ann. This is her home - she went out on a limb for you as it is."

Swinging my legs off the bed, noticing the slight look Terry gave as I crossed the room in my underwear, I said nothing. My brain was fuzzy and my tongue seemed to be thicker than usual. I couldn't snap out a retort. But I had a very clear feeling that he deserved one. And I also thought he knew it, too.

I took a shower; no one joined me. The room was empty when I returned. My faculties were returning and my blood was up. Behave? Leave Jack alone? Eat my greens? Make life easier for the queen of Voodoo?  Fuck off. I was going to have me some fun. I rummaged around in my suitcase and found the article of clothing I was looking for and began to dress. Mauve lycra low cut long sleeved tight fitting top. Black leather pants- it works for us therefore I guess it has to work the other way round . Stiletto boots. I jogged up and down and smiled. Perfect fit. Plenty of movement. Let the games begin!

A few hours later we were well into dinner and I was matching glass for glass with Jack. I had selected a seat between him and Terry - can you imagine having a thigh on either side and you just can't make up your mind which one you want to squeeze?

"Would you just like to run over the usual formation of a flotilla in battle readiness? How many knots would you maintain? What is the mean distance between the admiral's frigate and the rest of the fleet?" I engaged Jack in a particularly long-winded explanation, ignoring the dig I received in my ribs from Terry. He sat viewing the company with some disdain and then, as Jack paused to refill our glasses -

"Know any good jokes, Jack?" Terry said. I kicked him under the table but the damage was done. Jack launched into a singularly unfunny witticism that left us all either in stony silence (Terry and Stephen) or laughing falsely (Ann and I).

"Great, Jack. Know the one about the seven dwarves?" Terry launched into the Sleeping Beauty joke, which is the filthiest joke I have ever heard. Jack will probably call Terry out if he gets to the punch line of that in the presence of two ladies, I knew. That is if Jack understands it - did they do stuff like that in his day?

There was only one thing for it. I leapt from my seat and jumped into Jack's lap. "I am most heartily sorry if I presume too much, Captain Aubrey, but it has long been an ambition of mine to plait a sailor's hair. I know it is not traditional for a post captain as yourself to sport a queue but, perhaps you could indulge a lady in this trifle?"

Jack grinned broadly and told me to plait away. I pulled his hair from the holding ribbon and deftly parted it into three thick strands. Humming to myself, I leaned forward and weaved the thick blonde waves into a tight plait.

"Terry, ever thought of growing your hair? Perhaps you should dye it?" I looked over one shoulder and saw his face. Strike Three!

It was unavoidable but I fear my breasts were in Jack's face. I didn't mean to discomfort him but his shoulders are so broad I had to bounce a little to reach round to the back of his neck. He has a perfect knee for dandling. Except I kept slipping down it. Luckily his groin acted as a bulwark. Whew! Talk about Raise the Titanic!

Ann:

Bounce. Bounce. Boobs jiggling in her Wonderbra and eyes bobbling in Jack's head as he followed along.

I bounced out of my seat the last time she slid down his knee. I didn't blame Jack, of course. What man alive could have withstood the man-eater? I mean, you'd have to see Uma to understand. She has this touch with men and she absolutely knows that they love her. How could they not? Well, she might not have been in the best of moods when we first met, and who could blame her, but ever since she'd arisen from her laudanum-induced nap, she'd become the woman I'd always known. Witty, urbane, smart and clever. Plus, she knew how to wear clothes. When she came out wearing leather pants and a top that flattered every curve, I thought the three men in that house would have to have surgery to put their eyes back in their sockets.

But it's more than that, truly. Uma's smart about things more than just men, although she definitely is smart about men and they don't overawe her like they do me. She and Stephen even talked in Latin. Latin! And with that background in history, she was holding conversations with Jack and Stephen that went so far over my head they needed a flight plan.

And Terry just looked like he was eaten alive with all that was Uma. I wondered if she was just blasé with him at that point or if she was purposely ignoring the way his eyes never left her for long. The way he seemed to almost ache when she turned her attention to Jack.

I'd have to add Jack to Terry's list of insecurities. Well, more accurately, Jack and Uma. 

Yeah, I know all about my own insecurities so it shouldn't be surprising that when she climbed on Jack's lap, it did something to me. I just couldn't stick around to watch. Yeah, that's me. Once, twice and always a coward.

Nice ambiguous smile and muttered something about going to the restroom. Took a right at the hall and went into the restaurant's bar. Ordered a martini. Hold the fucking vermouth. Double olives. And get to shaking another 'cause I'm going to need it, I told the barman.

About half-way into my first one, Stephen slid into the barstool next to me. He ordered a stout and we both stared into our drinks for a few minutes.

"Rough way to meet me, I'm sure. I'm really not a bad person," I told him finally, after I realized I didn't want Jack's particular friend to think I was always this stressed out.

"You have behaved with the utmost restraint, dear," he said quietly. "For the most part."

We smiled at each other. "We'll get rid of those two in a day or two and then I cannot wait to hear all about what happened when Jack went back. And I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

"And I, my lady, am looking forward to the discussion as well. I am also assured by Jack that I may have time to wander within the nearby swamp to collect specimens before I leave."

It made me laugh. What would it have been like if Stephen hadn't wanted to collect specimens? We sat drinking companionably for a while. Long into my second martini, another man slid atop the barstool on the other side of me. Stephen and I turned to look at Terry.

"He's describing some fucking sea battle and Uma's about to reach orgasm."

"Hurricane Uma's gonna wipe out my little corner of New Orleans." I moaned. "Jack doesn't stand a chance."

"Perhaps one of us should ..." Stephen said.

Terry and I looked at him. "I can't watch," I said.

"I can't listen," Terry said.

"I believe it would be best for me to go protect Jack's interests," Stephen said.

When he was gone, Terry and I both sighed dramatically. Looked at each other and laughed.

"You haven't been much help," I groused at him.

"Ah, but you looked so sexy taking on the cops that I just couldn't step in and take over," he said. "Besides, I like watching when you take charge."

"This is such a fucking mess."

"Think how Uma feels. In a foreign country, in trouble with the law and the only people she knows are the two people she'd most not like to be seeing together."

"Think how Jack feels. Coming home and slammed right into some weird Comedy of Errors routine. He was really hurt, Terry. He never saw this coming."

"And you, Annie? How do you feel?"

I shut my eyes because if I'd been looking at him, I could never have hidden my true feelings. "Confused. Worried about Jack."

"But not about me?" he whispered.

I peeked at him and blinked at the way that made me feel. Put my hand on his cheek and examined his eyes carefully. "I worry about you maybe most of all because you're back in your Terry-who-can-handle-anything mode. At least Jack let me comfort him."

"Good girl, Annie. That helped a lot," he said, leaning toward me to give me a slow kiss.

"Have I even had the chance to tell you how very much I'm going to miss you?"

"You'll ask for me soon though, right?"

Getting lost yet again inside those eyes. Not even aware of what was going on around us.

Until ... that British voice. Uma standing there between us and babbling again about ... who even knows what at that point? I excused myself with a nice smile and went back to the table to find Stephen and Jack. As I left the bar, I heard Terry say he was going to the gents and I caught Uma following him. Watched her stop for a brief second outside the door that closed behind Terry. Knew exactly what she was up to. Shook my head and re-joined the two men at the table.

Uma:

Suddenly I had lost my audience. Jack and I had reached a point where if I made it anymore obvious he would have probably boarded me there and then. But it wasn't really what either of us wanted. Don't let Jack fool you. He might appear to be oblivious to the undercurrents of the scene but he wasn't. He is a strategist of the first water. We were both playing the same game. Alone I stopped my silly games and he fell silent, simply holding me on his knee and playing with my hair.

"I was never one for intrigue, my dear. I'm a clear water man myself. Don't hang about in the murky shallows. If I want a woman, I make it plain. But I never take another captain's lady- there's an honour among navy men."

"He's not navy and what about Molly Harte?"

Jack guffawed. "I was younger and Harte's a scrub. Normal rules don't apply with scrubs, my dear Uma. By the by, speaking of scrubs..."

"He isn't. And you are right. This is not what either of us want - at the moment. But Jack, I have a notion that we might enjoy an assignation somewhere down the line. May I call on you at some future time?"

"Most assuredly, dear lady. I have a few strategic manoeuvres that will really take your fancy. Mercy me, my lady, but we will make a wave."

"A veritable tidal wave, Captain, of that I have no doubts But if you will excuse me...I will await your pleasure..." At that moment Stephen returned and I judged it an apt time to take my leave.

It was not easy parting with that warm solid lap but I had other fish to fry that night. I wandered through to the bar where I amused myself at the sight of the morose duo drowning their sorrows in the bar.

"Thought I'd find you two here. Don't you want dessert? Jack couldn't decide so he's ordered them all. He says I can have a bite of his. Or just a lick if I can't eat a whole one." I smiled sweetly at them both. Terry raised his eyes, exhaled very slowly and said he needed to take a leak. Ann stood up and returned my smile, making her way back to the table.  I watched Terry go one way and Ann the other. I followed Terry.

I have to say that, apart from the times I have wandered in absentmindedly, I have never purposely entered a men's room before. I mean - who the hell would want to? As I approached the door, a man came out.

"Is there anyone in there? I'm looking for my husband," I asked demurely.

"Yes, Ma'am. A brown haired guy just passed me. He the one? You want me to tell him you're here?"

Prim smile. "Oh no, thank you. I'll just wait here."

He moved on, I slipped inside and closed the door. Terry was painting the porcelain with his back turned and I stood leaning against the door.

"Better warn you. You're under surveillance," I said.

To be fair to him he didn't even move a muscle. The rat knew I was there.

"Captain Ahab thrown you overboard, has he? You no longer on the hunt for Moby Dick?" he shivered, shook and tucked himself away, zippered up and turned to wash his hands. I simply watched him, biting my lip.

"Don't be so nasty to Jack. He hasn't done you any harm."

"He's a prat." I decided to ignore him; Terry was in one of his moods and there would be no shaking him by trying reason. What was the chance he would ever admit to feeling jealous of Ann's new lover? Nil. He had about as much self-knowledge as a bottle of beer. However I did have things to say on a different score.

"Terry, I'm really sorry that I'm here. I'm embarrassed and I feel foolish and I wish the ground would open up and swallow me. If I've acted like a tart then it's just my pathetic way of dealing with it. Why didn't you tell me on the phone the other day? It's just cruel keeping up the pretence. As soon as they let me, I'll disappear, go back to KL, just ask the other guys for visits. Keep it purely fun and games." My words gathered speed as I rambled on; I was beginning to garble. "I can see you make a perfect couple. She's so... together. Your sort of woman. Tough, capable, no-bullshit, career woman. You and her - it makes sense. I'm just an embarrassment to you. And she's got bigger tits. Jack and I are only larking about because we are hurt and I guess we both see that we're the spare parts. I just...you know...thought that...I mean Christmas was so...oh shit, I'm going to start crying again..."

That's me. I cry at everything. Usually Terry laughs or just gets annoyed because he thinks I'm putting it on. This time his reaction took me by surprise. He crossed the room and picked me up in his arms, holding me pressed against him, his head buried against my shoulder. I wrapped my legs around him; the feeling of his strength and solidity rendered me weak.

As I sobbed helplessly into his hair, he rocked me gently, saying nothing. We stood like that for some minutes before he seemed composed enough to speak.

"I'm the one who is embarrassed, not you. I don't want to set the two of you against each other. You gave me the greatest gift I've ever been given by a woman and the reward you get is having to be present while I'm still with my lover - on her time, in her house, constantly reminded of what we are to each other. Uma baby, I don't want to hurt you. Please don't cry. But, honey, I don't really understand what you're talking about. Why would you think I no longer want you? What do the size of your tits have to do with anything?  What do you think I want?"

"I think you really want Ann but you're just too sweet on me to say it," I sobbed.

He growled at that. "How many times do I have to tell you how much I love you? Ann and I have something going on but it isn't the same. If Cort or Bud were here instead of Jack - would you have any problem knowing who was your man? I visited Ann - it was a wonderful visit - but I'm coming home with you. Believe me when I say this. I know the effect I can have on women. I've been using it for years. A guy like me knows he's found his match when the woman he really wants seems completely resistant to all his little games. I'm as helpless with you as a kid like Arthur. So if I run away for a bit of romantic fantasy with another wonderful woman who makes me feel like I'm the king, indulge me. I'm just a bloke. I struggle with my ego. But at the end of the day - I know what I need - and that is you, baby."

I whimpered like a little puppy; almost disproving his theory about the lack of effect he has on me. Enough words: time for a more graphic language to reveal our true emotions. Against the wall in a men's room, we kissed shamelessly, almost sliding down the cold tiles in our frenzy to taste and touch each other. A wave of relief coursed through me as I felt his lips possess me - he wanted me just the same. My knees buckled as his tongue thrust deep into my throat and caught my own. I cried out with the force of his suction and felt myself sink bonelessly against his body.

Terry jerked me up, braced me against the wall and began to run one hand between my legs as he kneaded my breast with the other. He was breathing heavily and not in very good control of himself. My eyes rolled as my head lolled back and I realised where we were. Any minute, someone would come in; surely he wouldn't take me there? As if my thoughts had been heard, the door was yanked open and I was aware of another person in the room. I closed my eyes tight so that I wouldn't see his prurient gaze.

The intruder must have ignored us but Terry recognised the potential embarrassment of the situation. He broke away and pulled me into a cubicle - some privacy afforded at least.

"Do we dare?" I gasped.

"Can you stop now?" He panted, as he flipped down the seat, lifted me up onto it and raised my top, pushing my bra out of the way to suckle on my breasts. I wasn't going to get any more rational speech out of him at that moment. I felt him grasp my leather-clad buttocks in his large, strong hands and squeeze the flesh, groaning at the sensation of the soft, pliant hide. Fumbling rather more than he usually did, swearing softly with frustration, he pried them open and peeled them down my legs, letting them drop to my ankles where they remained, caught by my boots. With a growl he tore my tiny panties and thrust his fingers between my legs. I was so turned on that I humped myself against his hand, begging him to hurry up, take me, fuck me, give it me hard - no longer giving a damn who might be listening outside.

He took my hand and closed it round his hard, hot cock, while he hoisted me around him. "Help me, honey," he whispered as he struggled to find my opening in that position. I settled myself upon him, he drove home and we rammed and pummelled each other in ungainly and clumsy congress in that tiny cubicle.

I banged against the wall, reached out my hands to try and anchor myself, flailed out to feel him, was thrown forward against him and then jolted back against the door. From one wall to another we struggled, both on the edge, and desperate to break free from the mad hunger that was driving us.

Terry muttered, "You're so fuckin' tight," between gritted teeth.

"Been a long time, baby," I whispered back.

"Hmmm? Long time? Whatcha mean?" He rutted into me with a steady rhythm. I clung to his shoulders and nuzzled his ear writhing and moaning as his thick cock filled me.

"You were the last man to go there. It's been lonely without your touch."

I knew he was near as I let the words sink in to his passion-befuddled brain. I felt him struggle for control as he pulled back slightly and tensed when my words dawned on him. His head shot up but unfortunately I lowered mine at the same minute and smashed my chin into the bridge of his nose.

Terry grunted, I exclaimed, but he shrugged it away and simply set to with even more abandon. I heard myself scream as he banged against my womb and felt my orgasm soar. The muscles of my cunt contracted violently and he roared and came, almost sobbing as I clamped down hard on his sensitive cock. We both whimpered like crazies into each other, holding each other up and giggling and kissing each other at the same time.

As sanity descended, he released me from the vice-like grip he had been holding and gently rested me back on the seat. I sighed as he tenderly cleaned me up with tissue and helped me to dress. Then he stood me up before him, reached down and kissed me soft and deep, his eyes closed and a slight murmur escaping from his throat.

"Why? Why was I the last man? You saw Cort. I wouldn't have blamed you..."

"Read my diary."

"I won't read them."

"Read it, Terry. You'll understand."

He held me close and we just enjoyed the warm closeness of another much-adored body.

"From now on, you choose who you like. I'm not going to place limits on you. Fly free, Uma, and then come back to me. But one thing. Don't write about us any more. When we're together in the presence of others, we never let them see how we really feel about each other - so don't let them know our secrets. Keep that part of us private from now on."

"I can't say never, Terry, because I don't know what will happen in the long term but I will say this: I won't write about you for a long time. 'We' are off limits to the others for the time being. Is that enough?"

He smiled. "More than I deserve, love. Just touch your lipstick up and let's go and join the others. They probably think we've killed each other by now."

"We nearly did," I giggled as we left the cubicle much to the astonishment of two elderly gentlemen who nearly wet their pants as I calmly replenished my lipstick in the mirror, fluffed up my hair and left with Terry's arm firmly round my waist. I looked up at him and noticed a thin trickle of blood running down his left nostril. Wiping it away with my handkerchief, we recalled how we had banged heads. He grinned: "Jesus, Uma, now you've made my nose bleed!"

Ann:

Anxious beyond all reason. Sad at how things were devolving. Fearful of just how much worse it could get.

"Why don't we go?" I said brightly. "I'll call for the car and we'll be home soon."

"Jack is finishing his dessert," Stephen said. Jack grinned warmly at me and held out his hand; probably not even aware that he'd been playing with fire that evening. There was only so much perseverance I possessed. If I'd thought for one minute Jack had been the aggressor with Uma, I would have ... well, he could be the aggressor but not on my time and not on my turf. Let her invite him for a visit if she wanted to have him that way. I waited as patiently as possible on Jack to finish his dish of bread pudding. He kept pausing between mouthfuls to make remarks to Stephen or me.

"Let's go, guys." Keen to get going. Looking at my watch and figuring Uma and Terry would still be awhile. Figuring this was the perfect way to dump them to fend for themselves while I got things between Jack and I sorted. "They'll take a taxi. Or find a hotel room."

But it wouldn't be that easy. Of course not. That's not the way my day was going, was it?

"Sorry about that. We got lost," Uma said, her voice so soft and so much slower that I almost didn't recognize it. I looked over my shoulder at them. Uma smiling sweetly and Terry snuggled up behind her. He seemed to have blood on his face. Had she hit him? Uma noticed my glance and her eyes danced.

"I made his nose bleed!" she giggled.

I rolled my eyes. "How about a truce?"

"White flag?" she said.

"Never strike your colors too easily," Jack said. "I never would."

"You would if you were fired on by Uma," Terry said.

"You can turn your big gun on me any day, Jack," Uma said, "I'd show you my colors pretty damned fast!"

Stephen and I both started laughing as Jack blushed. Terry shook his head and grinned.

The drive home was so peaceful. At first, it unnerved me and I kept glancing in the rear view mirror, sure I'd see Uma up to something. But she just sat there demurely between Stephen and Terry. And then I remembered. Post-coital Uma. Always silent and compliant.

Beats laudanum, I thought to myself.

Part III
Uma:

The bedroom door closed and we breathed a sigh of relief. We had survived this hellish day and were alone at last. Terry flung himself down in the armchair and began to take off his shoes while I perched on a stool and removed my makeup. He chatted away to me about what I would have to expect from the authorities before they relented and let me go. He pulled off his shirt and threw it on the floor and I smiled. He caught my glance.

"What's so funny?"

"You are. Don't you know, according to your reputation, you are supposed to plaster women against the walls and fuck their brains out when you get them in a bedroom? Thought you were the king of the swingers. Domestic harmony does not become you, Mr. Thorne."

"Give me a break, Uma, you nearly removed my spleen the last time." I stood up and slipped out of my clothes, wiggling my butt suggestively as he muttered lamely. He stopped mid-sentence and cleared his throat.

"Thought you looked a bit stacked tonight. Jack's going to have a shock when he learns about Wonderbras...you fraud."

I stuck my middle finger up at him. He lunged and dragged me down onto his knee on the armchair.

"So you like bouncing on men's knees, do ya, love? Just bounce down here a while and I'll see if I can find anything for you in my breeches."

I straddled his legs and buried my fraudulent breasts in his face; he seemed not to mind. It looked like normal service was about to be resumed when we both stopped and listened.

"What the fuck's that?" Terry said.

"Are we on an earthquake belt?" I asked innocently enough.

"Christ, it's the Ripper. He's launched his attack broadside. Shiver my timbers..."

"Terry, stop! Ignore them. Where were we?" I returned to paying homage to his neck and shoulders as he continued the honours on my nipples. Then a female voice broke the quiet night air: "OH MY GOD!" accompanied by a full-blooded roar of enthusiasm from a certain gentleman. It reminded me of a huntsman who has the fox in view. I think he was.

There was a knock on the bedroom door. Terry stepped forward to open it; I slipped into bed. It was Stephen. He was very apologetic about disturbing us but suggested candle wax. He always found it very efficacious when Jack was either sleeping or awake.

Much later in the night, wrapped up in his arms and deeply asleep, I felt Terry stir and mutter something. I smiled. He was amazing. No, he wasn't. I realised what had disturbed him. Another boarding was taking place down the corridor. He pulled the pillow over his head and groaned. I slipped my arm around his back.

"Feeling a bit surplus to requirements, sweetie?" He grinned ruefully but didn't reply. "I understand. She was with you last night. It must be difficult to accept that. It's just this crazy mix-up. Normally you wouldn't have it rammed down your throat like this. Hey, that's a thought! Got anything you'd like to ram down my throat? You know how you always want to shut me up...."

Terry pulled me close. "Keep talking, baby. Suddenly your voice has never sounded sweeter to me..."

Ann:

I know exactly what Uma will tell you. But I swear to you it really wasn't that ... well, then again. Perhaps it was.

After all, I did need some reassurance. After Uma's bouncing-on-the-knee bit. After Jack's follow-the-bouncing-boobs bit. After a not-very-good-at-all welcome home for Jack that had been fucked up so completely I didn't even know where to begin.

After we'd gotten Stephen settled in one guest room and I'd had Jack settle Uma and Terry into the other guest room, I was in the bathroom in the master suite and staring at myself in the mirror. Things just had to slow down in Perve World or I'd never make it, I told myself.

I caught Jack's eyes in the mirror when he finally came in. Do you have any earthly idea how very much, how insanely, how unspeakably badly I needed what I wanted him to do?

And how grateful my sore heart was that the first thing he did was strip me? And the second thing he did was strip himself? With that look he gets? With those aggressive, insatiable moves he makes on you?

"Lose not a minute, beloved," I whispered with a nervous little giggle. Some last vestige of propriety encouraged me to try to set a quiet tone to what was about to happen between us.

He took me right there, on the bathroom counter, with little foreplay. So forceful, so commanding. So right. Just a bit too noisy. But not that bad compared to how Jack often roared out. I mean, the man's voice can carry like you wouldn't believe. His release this time didn't come near to the shake-the-rafters sound level it often did. I'm pretty sure I kept my own response to him muted. At least I know I tried. Our suite was separated from the other bedrooms; not that we were on the other side of the house or anything. But at least we weren't right next to them. I counted on that distance to be an effective noise buffer.

I had little time to recover. Murmuring to him about how I'd missed him and receiving back from him some comment about making sure I never forgot where I stood with him. Nor you with me, I whispered. The sweetest smile to me and then he picked me up and took me into the bedroom.

Lost inside him. Tasting him and I'd missed this part of him in ways I couldn't believe. Finding myself in him. Moving with him in a rhythm and pace that made me lose any restraint I'd been clinging to that day.

Coming so hard I wanted to not control it but I tried anyway because thoughts of Terry invaded even at this time. The reality was surreal - that I'd been with Terry not too long before this and he was somewhere in this house of mine but not here where he'd slept with me just the night before.

And I don't remember much else of the night. Well, that's not the whole truth. Because I do remember, vaguely, when Jack woke me in the deepest part of the night.

"You've been storing up for me," I mumbled out to him as he pushed slowly into me.

"It has been an entire week since I have been able to touch you, sweetheart," he said. "I have missed the way you feel with me. I have missed the way you make me feel."

Bless you, Jack.

In the morning, I showered quickly and felt a surge of energy that had to be fuck-power. He blocked my exit out of the shower until I told him I needed to go get breakfast on for the household of guests.

Inside my kitchen, I bustled around with the preparations for breakfast. Stephen was the first person to join me. I slid a cup of coffee under his nose and he smiled absent-mindedly at me as he looked at the newspaper.

Next person in was Terry. "Have a good night?" he asked me, winking with this knowing leer. So this is how we'll face each other this morning, I thought to myself, with a joke and a jab? Tried to shut him up by sticking a piece of toast in his mouth. Tried not to reflect on what I read in his eyes.

In came Jack. Looking very happy and humming a tune. Last one in was Uma. Her eyes swept the room and stopped on Terry. God. The way they looked at each other. It was breathtaking. She looked at me last. We grinned at each other. Uma wasn't much into morning chatter until she'd had breakfast.

So, hey, I'm telling myself. Look at this - we're all gonna be adults today and we're all happy. Right.

Everyone sit down, I ordered. I plopped large platters on the table of hash browns, country potatoes, bacon, sausages, toast, stewed tomatoes and sliced cantaloupe. It was about the biggest feast I could prepare for breakfast and I only did it because it was Jack's first day back and because I was bustling with energy.

Scrambled eggs coming up, I called out. Watched everyone start passing plates and feeling like quite the little hostess. How unlike me. If they only knew. Well, Jack did, but he had been able to overlook those failings that would never make of me the perfect housewife.

As I walked toward the table with the skillet of scrambled eggs, Uma said to me, "You were walking fine yesterday, Ann. Something unusually large hit you?"

I thought I'd choke. It got worse and I wondered why these two didn't just take their act out on the road.

"Jack, looks like you worked up quite an appetite," Terry remarked.

Uma snickered and I glared at Terry.

"Plenty of protein, Jack, red meat replenishes the blood, you know. Or perhaps a pint of Carlsberg? They say that it reaches parts that other beers cannot reach..." Uma shovelled in muesli and shot out darts.

Terry looking at me, right in the eyes, saying, "Pull up a chair, Annie. Would you like me to get you a cushion to sit on?"

The boy should have known better. You should never sass someone holding something that can hurt you. I leaned toward Terry to serve him eggs and smacked him a glancing blow across his noggin with the frying pan.

"Oh my. So sorry, Terry, but you have such a big head. It just gets in the way sometimes," I said sweetly.

When I sat down, I caught the lingering smirk on Terry's face. Wanted to wipe it off there. "You two seem well rested. Good night's sleep?" I said to him then turned and smiled at Uma. "Something you need to tell me? Has it already gotten purely platonic between the two of you?"

"You are joking," she growled out to me.  

Smiling at Terry. "Jack swears by sardines. Perhaps you'd like me to make you a sardine omelette?"

"Kippers are also very good for the libido, Terry," Stephen piped up.

"As are oysters, don't you find, Doctor?" I said.

"So I have been told but I have personally had no experience with using them for that restorative effect," he said.

"Raw is best. Couple dashes of Tabasco in each one and he'd be restored, I'd say," I said. "I can run down to the fish market. Get a few dozen for you, Terry."

"Maybe you'd like Terry to clear the breakfast table for you? Don't push him." Uma was getting wound up even more.

"Terry doesn't need to prove anything to me," I said sweetly. 

 Jack said, "Oysters? I do dearly love them when they are fresh from your lake. I'll take some, too, sweetheart."

"You don't need any, Jack," I said with no restraint at all and giving Jack a huge wink. In return, I saw that look that I adored light up his face.

"Christ, I am getting out of here if he's starting again," Terry muttered darkly.

"No, Terry, don't leave on our account. Stay, stay. In fact, why don't you make yourself useful and do the dishes? You look so cute in an apron. Jack and I need to go do a bit of sorting out. He can't find his ... something ... um ... it's somewhere in the bedroom. We'll be right back."

"Winch? Pulley? Splints? Can't see how else he can get it up again after what he's put away," Terry muttered as we rose from the table.

And the parting shot from Uma, in one of her stage whispers: "Reckon she's got bilge holes in her knickers...it's a wonder the house isn't awash in spume. Isn't that what they call the white bits on the top of waves, Jack?" I looked up. Glanced at Stephen.

He was shaking his head. "The affairs of Venus. That so much endeavor can be expended in such a transient pastime is a wonder to me! The stirrings of amorous propensity! The bull, confined, becomes vicious...How fortunate we would all be if Cupid's arrow remained firmly in its sheath. In vaginam gladium tene!"

I heard the snort from Terry and Uma at that last remark as she translated. It sounded something like: "Sheath your sword, Jack!"  

Now, trust me when I tell you that this was NOT going well. In fact, if last night's round in the restaurant had been bad, this went so much worse, it was simply unbelievable.

Not even positive exactly when it happened, but things turned from Uma and Terry taking pot shots, to me saying nasty things, to Jack suddenly deciding he'd had enough.

"If you have a problem with me, sir, then spit it out, man, and desist from muttering cowardly jibes behind my back. If you haven't got the courage to call me out then let me do it for you, you paltry, whoreson, Antipodean spawn of a convict dog!" Jack's voice rose to a crescendo.

I'd never seen Jack angry before. He stood at his place, pounded his fist on the table, and out of his mouth came this stream of words. His normally jovial expression was gone as if it had never existed. In its place was the face of a supreme commander, a dictator, a tyrant of doom.

And then Terry changed to anger. He was up on his feet, his body tightly held with fury, his chair skittling back across the kitchen floor. He wasn't yelling though. He waited until Jack stopped and then really nasty things came out.

"You think I'm scared of you, you longhaired girl's blouse? I could take you out with my fucking eyes closed. You think she really wants you? I could tell you a few tales about our Annie...." Things that only someone like Terry would say because only Terry knew particularly how to wound me.

"How dare you, you complete bastard..." Me.

"Don't you speak to him like that. You've had his head fucked up for months with your Voodoo shit..." Uma.

"Fuck off, Uma. You don't know shit. Keep out. This is not an excuse for you to start on Annie. This is between Captain Pugwash and me. Keep your girly bitching to yourself..." That's right. He was even attacking Uma.

And then Jack yelled more because Terry dared to say such things to 'Miss Uma.'

"What kind of blackguard are you to address your lady like that? God damn your eyes, man, I'd like to rip your heart out with my bare hands..."

This was it then. A battle to end all battles. 

Kind of a round robin of absolute anger and mayhem.

Everyone was yelling at each other but me and Stephen.

Me? I had gone absolutely quiet.

They didn't know me very well. If they had, they'd have known that when I'm really, really angry, I go deathly still and quiet. Why? Because I've finally learned some hard lessons about my anger - and that when I'm really mad, I always say things that I live to regret. I've trained myself as a consequence. I just cannot deal with my own anger so I simply shut down.

Into this madness, Stephen was the only one who didn't flip out. In one very sudden bit of cold silence, Stephen said, "I detect the machinations of an outside agent here. This grievous crisis has been fomented by malicious forces - of that I have no doubt. If someone had wanted to cause more grief and suffering to the four of you, they could not have planned this any better. Who might have known that pitting this group together, under these particularly trying circumstances, would incur a cataclysm of epic proportions sufficient enough to bring down the very fabric of the world as we know it.  For surely, most assuredly, this was a predictable outcome."

Terry opened his mouth and then stopped in mid remark as a sudden light came in his eyes.

Jack's heavy breathing filled the room and he looked around at all of us, as if it was only then dawning on him what had been happening.

Uma and I looked at each other. 

"Fuck it all," I said. "We should have seen it."

She nodded at me. "That arsehole SID. He's getting us back, isn't he?"

Uma:

It was so bloody obvious. How had the combined brainpower of all of us supposedly intelligent people failed to see what was written as clear as day? This was no accident: we had been shafted by Loki, the God of Mischief himself, a.k.a. SID. This time he had nearly won. One more minute and we would have been past the point of no return. Jack and Terry would have probably killed each other and Ann and I, well, even I shudder to think what might have occurred between us.

It had taken Stephen - rational clear thinking, sexually uninvolved Stephen - to recognise the truth - and he did not even know of SID's existence. The four of us stood open-mouthed, each trying to understand what had happened, each ashamed of the truths that we had uttered. Because that's the point, isn't it, when you let rip like that? Some of what you say is bound to be shit, but truths do escape. Was it too late to heal the breach?

"Devils. This is all about Devils." I said quietly.

"Devils?" Jack and Terry spoke together. Seems neither had read it. Ann and I looked at each other, reddened, and giggled. She cleared her throat.

"Just a bit of fun we knocked together over last Christmas with some mates. Sort of fantasy spoof."

Terry gave us a sidewards look, you know the one, usually accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. "The Usual Suspects, then. What spoof?"

I tried my 'innocent abroad' look but Terry just sneered. "It was a bit of a lark about Hando appearing in the plots of your films. Sorting things out in his own inimitable way..."

"Hando." The way Terry says his name!

"Er, yes," Ann said nervously. 

Jack looked confused. "Who is Hando? Sounds like a swab."

"Something like that, Jack me old mate." Terry replied. "In fact, he looks pretty much like someone you might impress and then chuck overboard in shark infested waters at some later date when you'd given up trying to knock some sense into him. Uma, was my film involved?"

"Er...a bit."

"What the fuck did you say about Alice?"

Ann and I went round-eyed. "Alice? Did we mention Alice? No...she didn't really figure..."

"Stop lying, Uma. Right, what's it on?"

"Izzy's site," Ann coughed up. I dug her in the ribs. She mouthed, "Do you think he won't find out?"

Ann and I lurked at the back of the room while the three men read the contents of the screen. I started to bite my nails. Ann nibbled a strand of hair.

Suddenly Terry burst out laughing. 

"That'll be Gladiator. He'll find that funny," I observed, "Or LAC. Or TQATD."

Stephen and Jack broke into chuckles. They both enjoyed the Killick-Hando sequence. But neither of us was looking forward to POL.

"Who's Alice?" Jack queried. He's a fast reader.

Terry looked at us with a pained expression. "I should put you two over my knee but you'd both enjoy that too much..." and then he grinned and held his hands out. "Hey, every guy makes mistake. Am I ever going to hear the end of that one? And remember it wasn't just my mistake. There was a strong pull from the Creator there..."

We put our fingers in our ears. That was not what either of us wanted to hear.

"OK, guys. Now you know. But that is not the point. The point is...it had to have been SID. I imagine we really pissed him off royally to be making such fun of him in that piece. Not that we meant to," Ann said.

I tried to act innocent. "Of course not. Would we ever purposely try to upset any of you? But why don't we keep to the subject of SID. Revenge. Any ideas?"

Jack and Terry sat down. "Right. Girls, clear this mess. Time to nail this fucking twat for good and all. Jack, let me fill you in. How much do you know about cyber space..."

I expect it sounds hard to believe but Ann and I meekly cleared up, loaded the dishwasher, made cups of coffee and generally did the girly stuff while war talks were being held at the kitchen table. Jack and Terry are cut from the same cloth; no women on board when the action starts. Not that either of us gave in easily. Every time I opened my mouth, Terry just gave me one of his looks and I gave up. Ann and I sat on stools at the kitchen counter and grumbled about men, the myth of the feminist revolution and then decided to make the most of my visit by having a spoil yourself day together at the beauticians. An after-holiday season detox. The works. There was a flyer on the counter about a New Year special on at her local spa - too good to miss.

They barely looked up when we announced we were off out for a few hours. Men! Who do they think they are? Do they think we have fluff for brains? Like we wouldn't know what they were talking about? Did it make them feel tougher if they could take over and let the little ladies dance attention in the background? Moan, moan, moan. We got to the car and then I ran back to filch some money out of Terry's wallet. Ann looked horrified; she has morals.

"Get over it, Ann. Anyway I haven't any money. I'm an illegal immigrant - remember? Let's have a ball - courtesy of Mr. Thorne!"

On our return, the men were having a beer and watching one of those incomprehensible American football matches where everyone shouts numbers and bangs into each other. Are they soft? Why do they wear armour? I like men to get hurt - is that just me?

We slipped in next to them on the couch. Terry flipped my hair and sighed. He had noticed. Good job, he'd be dead if he hadn't. Jack lifted Ann up on his knee for a bit of bouncing. The three Brits asked confused questions about the rules of the game.

"Well, are you going to tell us?" Ann asked eventually, i.e. when she came up for air.

"What would you like me to tell you, sweetheart?" Jack murmured into her neck.

"About SID! C'mon, what have you done?"

The boys exchanged glances and laughed heartily. 

"Nothing much. Just made sure that his modem is disconnected for a couple of days," Terry replied.

"You mean he can't get online?" I asked.

Snorts all round. "Not quite. Let's put it this way, baby - if he gets an evil thought, it won't travel down his circuits. All he can raise is his voice from now on. Until we lift the bar. And let's face it, we are not in any hurry. He's been a bad boy all round recently it would seem - not just to you. No one is complaining if he takes the veil for a while. Except SID, that is. He's complaining - very loudly. But - it's all piss and wind, mate. Not a chance of any blue emissions out of that bad boy until further notice."

Ann and I looked over. Wonder how they'd done it? Was Heather involved? Had they given him a cyber social disease? Was this a new type of computer virus? Whatever it was, it had worked wonders - Jack and Terry acting like brothers-in-arms, Ann and I giggling like two best mates out on a double date (which, come to think of it, we were). Only problem was Stephen. That guy needs a woman. He is so cute. I would love to see him lose it; I would love to give him a special treat. So would Ann - she told me so. Maybe...one day...soon...

Ann:

By the time Ray and Terry got Uma's little legal problems all tidied up, we were all ... oh, yeah, right. You'd really like it if I was to say that by then we were all the best of buddies and everyone was getting along swimmingly?

Wouldn't you? Admit it, go on.

Truth was, I would have to say that we were all a lot more realistic about where we stood with each other. And where we stood wasn't so bad. Not really. But we were also studiously avoiding any potential areas of conflict. Those two factors combined made the rest of the time Uma and Terry were in New Orleans ... well, it was more than bearable. We had some fun.

We just tried hard not to be physically demonstrative around the others. I mean, no sense rubbing any of our noses in the odd mix of couples present in that house.

When we were all together, Uma and I actually spent a lot more time with Stephen or with each other. Jack and Terry did the old caveman macho routine but when they didn't think either of their women were watching, they honestly seemed to talk to each other with genuine interest. Jack was full of questions about the Game; Terry seemed more than willing to chat about it.

Two days later, her visa problems cleared up, Terry took Uma back to KL. He had to miss a stopover in Los Angeles to meet Darrin and Alex, but when he found out that Ray's boss insisted that Uma leave our country immediately - said the only way they'd turn a blind eye to the visa problem was to pretend she'd never been here - well, even I could accept Terry wasn't about to be separated from Uma at that point.

Frankly, Terry was just focused on Uma and that was as it should be, all things considered, I guess. He told Stephen that he needed time alone with her. I figured Terry knew she needed to be the only woman around him for a while; that she needed this period of readjustment after what had happened between all of us. Stephen thought I was wrong - that it was Terry who needed to reconnect with Uma.

I had one very brief conversation with Terry the morning they left. We were the first two up and about. 

"You better be good to her," I told him as I started the coffee brewing.

"Have you ever known me to be anything less than amazing?" he retorted with that cocky grin of his.

I looked at him. Standing there in my kitchen. My obsession. "We're okay, aren't we, Terry?"

"We're great, Annie," he said. He didn't have to touch me for me to know he was telling me the truth. I read it in his eyes.

At the airport, awkward but ultimately funny goodbyes all around. When Jack hugged Uma, Terry growled at him to lower his jib. I cried when I hugged Uma but then I cry a lot at times like this. We had to share Terry's hankie to dry our eyes.

On the drive home, I only had the emotional energy to listen as Stephen and Jack talked about New Orleans and where Stephen wanted to go exploring. Tomorrow, I made them promise, you're going to tell me all about your trip back to the Surprise.

And I know what Uma will tell you. But I am not at all sweet on Stephen. Not a chance. You can take that to the bank. 

I think. Maybe.

Have you ever known me to lie?